Rebecca’s house lies in wait. The park acts as a moat protecting her castle. It is a double story, modern and well maintained. The boy walks across the park, his eyes peeled for crocodiles. The lights of the castle are on. The second story windows beam at him. The illumination of the front lawn creates the illusion of a German stronghold, Nazis guarding a death camp. A chill runs down his spine.

He knocks twice at the front door, nervous and unsure. Rebecca answers. Her hair is tied in bun. The shape of her breasts is visible under her vest, no bra. Her desperate sensuality is absent, replaced by a relaxation the boy finds mildly attractive.

“I’m up here, big boy,” the boy looks into her dark eyes, her beautiful eyes.

“…” The boy smiles at her; warm and laced with intent.

“Come inside. My parents are out for a while.”

The boy obeys.

He catches her flowery scent, lavender and lilac. Flashbacks of earlier intrudes his mind. The foyer is decorated in marble, black and white. The stairs leading to the bedrooms are a dragon waiting to swallow him whole. He feels the warmth of its breath in his face. Rebecca touches him on the shoulder and leads him to the living room.

It is a mahogany celebration on the walls and the floor. The furniture is leather. A fireplace burns below the enormous television. The boy sits in wonder on one of the leather couches.

“Relax, we’re alone,” Rebecca nearly sits on his lap.

The close proximity of her body is a healthy intrusion. The boy looks into her eyes. The faint crackling of something upstairs makes him break the gaze.

“I said, relax…” Rebecca caresses his leg, slowly moving towards his inner thigh.

“…” The boy mumbles incoherently.

The swift sequence of events catches him off guard. Rebecca eases closer to him. Her breath mixes with his. He can feel her passions pushing up against him. She kisses him, slowly. Her lips, first soft, explode into tiny particles, each responsible for providing pleasure to every corner of his brain. The kiss increases in intensity. She digs into his leg, her nails piercing the hard shell of his detachment. He returns the passion, forcefully. He grabs her hair and pushes her lips hard onto his.

“…” his incoherent mumbling turns into a savage growl. The dragon returns the mating call. Fire escapes from its mouth and blazes a trail to the living room. The dragon flaps its wings and sweeps the two teenagers into its mouth, fire and blood raging…

“This way.” She grabs his hand and runs towards her bedroom. The boy follows with lust showing the way.

He pushes her onto the bed and pulls off her pants, no underwear. He pulls down his. The world dissolves into liquid moments flowing from house to house. The boy drinks in the moment of the room, huge gulps of heat and tension. Drenched in the moments before he enters her, warm and wet. She moans softly and wraps her wanting legs around him, tight and fierce. The moments drain into empty space of rhythm and hurried breath. He rolls over and the world solidifies and gravity returns.

“So, do you want to talk now?” Rebecca smiles at him, her face flushed and satisfied.

*****

A forgettable Wednesday passes, without greeting. The boy rolls out of bed and does his daily routine. He eats breakfast, Weetbix, and walks to school. His mind wanders a little. The morning air gives him enough pollution to avoid smoking. He sees Rebecca standing at the entrance. Her body and sensuality is cloaked by her bored face.

“Hey, big boy.” She greets him with no enthusiasm. “Today is going to be shit. We have double Maths and the Bio teacher wants that homework we didn’t do. Prepare yourself.” She sighs and turns around, back hunched, and enters the school.

The biology teacher is an old woman. Her concept of evolution stops at the monkeys learning to speak. Her white hair matches the stained white walls behind the boy’s head. Her moth ball blouse and 19th century skirt drudges back and forth as she reads the Life Sciences gospel. Her spectacles resting on her straight spot covered nose.

“I hope the homework went all.” Her speech spits dust into the faces of the generation she despises. “Your summaries of Chapters five to ten, show them to me.”

She looks at the boy. Ancient eyes seeking a response she disapproves of. She smells fear as the boy does not return her gaze. She drudges intently to his desk, spewing the ashes of her previous victims onto the floor.

“Let me see your book.” She says dryly.

The boy opens his blank book and prepares for another layer of dust to settle on his face.

“Ha! You laaities of today, lazy and stupid, no wonder our country is in the kak.” An explosion of dust hits his face, violently. He coughs and stares at the dinosaur defiantly. “What do you have to say for yourself, boy? Defend your fellow hooligans!” The boy stands up and pushes past the relic. “Are you deaf and dumb? Where are you going?” He walks to the door, stops, turns around and raises a middle finger. “You little shit!” The boy leaves…

Rebecca: What the fuck, dude?

Boy: What?

Rebecca: Bio :O

Boy: She’s old. She’ll forget what happened.

Rebecca: I’m worried about you.

Boy: Don’t be.

The boy pockets his phone and walks briskly to the safety of the park. He sees Rebecca’s house, the conquered castle. He smiles at the memory of the other night. His phone vibrates twice.

Russell: Still coming tomorrow?

Boy: Yeah.

Russell: 8. Bring kroon.

Boy: Okay.

The home he despises stares at him from across the street. The unkempt gutters and lawn are joined by a black BMW in the driveway. He sighs. The distinct aroma of his mother’s pretentious; conflict avoiding cooking makes his stomach grumble as he reaches the front door. His father is home.

Boy: Dad’s home. Asshole alert. :/

Rebecca: Lol. Don’t fight fire with fire.

Boy: I’ll try.

The door opens as the boy is typing. His father bumps into him.

“Shit, boy”, he says.

“…” the boy takes two steps back and avoids his father’s gaze.

“Why are you so late anyway?” The boy attempts to squeeze past the pathetically short man, but… “Boy. I asked you a question.”

The boy pushes past his father: a shoulder barge and a surprised look. He does not look back. He sees the evening news on the television. He sees the food on the kitchen table. He sees the sanctuary of his room. He enters. His father enters.

“I have two words for you, boy: no phone.” His father holds out his hand. The boy stares back defiantly and does not yield. “Boy. You know what you did. Did you think I wouldn’t find out? The teacher wants to get you suspended. What’s wrong with you?” His father’s tone signals dread.

The boy submits. He watches his father’s exit with contempt. The asshole strikes again. The boy is offline.

***

Tell us what you think: Why do you think the boy is depressed? Should he go to the party with Rebecca?