Thoomp thoomp thoomp
thoomp. The music beats and
pulses around me, filling my head and making me dizzy. Bright lights shine and
flicker, dazzling my eyes as they play along the bodies amassed around me. All
of us, moving to the one rhythm, all in tune, together. We jump up and down,
our hands in the air, we weave around each other, seeing flickers of smiles in
the strobe. I feel dizzy, lightheaded. My body keeps dancing, moving all on its
own in a primal response to the music all around me, but my mind drifts- and I
think back to the start...
It’s over! School is
finally finished! Oh my god, I’ve been waiting for twelve years for this! Now I
can look back on all the work, the toil, the sleepless nights and horrendous
days and think... I’m done. It’s finished. I’m free. Me, and all these other
ex-students. There must be about two hundred of us, from all over the state,
all of us piling on a plane to our island holiday. This schoolies week, this is
our reward. I’m surrounded by smiling faces, the excitement is palpable and I
know I’m going to have fun this week.
The music changes. Still full of bass and beat, but much
slower, more mellow. I stop jumping, and just flow. I’m sweating, and my legs
are sore...
We lounge in the sun,
all of us spread out on the deck of the yacht. We make small talk, but our
hearts aren’t really in it. We just melt into the floor, soothed by the heat of
the sun and the roll of the waves. I think my sunscreen’s worn off by now, but
I can’t get up. True relaxation sucks me down until I can’t move, until I just
don’t want to anymore. I think I’m burning, but that’s okay. It feels good
right now.
I stagger out of the room, panting and hot. The music is
pumping and I’m bopping, but I can’t dance anymore. Not right now. There, over
by the door, a bubbler. I sway my way over to it, revelling in the splash of
cool water in my face...
The spray whips at my
face as I skim across the waves, salty and cold in the slipstream. The tube I’m
on jolts and bucks as the motorboat tows me around into its wake. It powers
ahead, and I fly over the water, only to be smacked into the surface before
bouncing up again. We go into a turn, sharper and sharper, faster and faster
until- I’m tumbling ,flipping side over side as the tube is whipped around. Now
underwater, now gasping for air as my hands refuse to relinquish their hold on
the mesh straps. I stop flipping, we’re going straight now. Only I’m underwater
being hit repeatedly by the tube as it skims the choppy sea. My lungs scream at
me, so I force my hands open and stop, floating gently on the waves as the boat
comes round to pick me up for another run. I can’t get the taste of salt out of
my mouth.
The music draws me back. It’s late, I’m tired and sore, but
it’s as if my body is not my own. I have been completely taken by the music. I
hardly even see the people around me anymore, just masses of shape and warmth,
all moving together. The strobe flickers in and out of life, and then it’s gone
and the lasers strafe the room, green lines, and swirls of red...
Lines of green, swirls
of red, colours spread out around me in a massive tableau, and I can’t get
enough of it. I look down through the cerulean water at the reef below, the
fingers of coral reaching up to the sky, the massive colourful blooms that
blanket the sea floor. And the fish, the multitudes of fish, darting in and out
of all the tiny nooks and crannies, some no bigger than my little finger,
others more than half my size. I take a deep breath, my ears popping as I dive
down. A fish swims past me, intent on some task of its own, and all I can do is
gaze in wonderment at the sheer abundance of life swarming all around me. Here,
tiny crustaceans scampering across a brain coral. There, an eel slithers back
into its sheltered nook. My lungs tell me it’s time to surface, so up I go. But
only long enough for another deep breath.
It’s getting too hot now, the smoke machine irritates my
eyes and throat, the pounding of the music in my brain no longer pleasant. I
veer dizzily around the room, trying to get my bearings. A hand grabs mine,
towing me through the squirming bodies. All I can see, all I can concentrate on
is this hand, slender and cool, leading me away from the muzzy heat into the
cool clear air. Tanned skin and brown hair is all I can see in this light, the
residue from the dancefloor, but I know exactly who my saviour is. After all,
we’d been together on the boats for the better part of a week...
She sits next to me at
the railing, our legs hanging over the edge as the yacht slides through the
waves. It’s evening, and cloudy, and a cold wind rakes the deck. The occasional
wave splashes across the deck as we tilt crazily from side to side, tacking in
the wind. We’re chatting about something, anything, and she’s shivering. I
throw my arm around her, as if that would help. She doesn’t seem to mind.
We’re walking along the beach, and somehow her hand hasn’t
left mine, our fingers interlocking snugly. The music fades away, yielding to
the cool breeze of the night and the soft sighing of the waves caressing the
sand. Our sea legs trick us, and send us swaying into each other, colliding
softly one way, and then the next. We don’t talk, suddenly it’s as if we’ve
known each other for years and there’s nothing left to say, there’s only being
together. She sits down in the sand, pulling me after her and wrapping my arms
around her. She leans back into me, and I can smell her hair. We’re still
swaying, and I feel the heat of her in my arms, her legs pressed into mine, our
cheeks resting together. I could sit like this forever.
A shout, her friends are calling her. I will her to stay, to
ignore them, I hug her tightly to me. I can feel her smiling at me. I turn to
look at her, only to be trapped in her gaze. The starlight glints on the water,
and on her eyes as she gazes at me, a soft smile curving her lips. Her forehead
touched mine, then her nose, and our lips meet. Tentative at first, small,
fluttering kisses. Then bolder, I taste the salt of the sea on her lips, and sweetness
on her tongue. I’m drawn deeper, deeper into this wondrous sensation, revelling
in this warmth, this intimacy.
Then she’s gone. Gone into the night, gone back to her
friends. Gone to bed, as I should have done hours ago. Suddenly I feel cold, my
entire body aching to feel her heat again, to hold it once more, and fill that
void I tried to convince myself I didn’t have. I trudge back to my unit,
brushing my teeth to the snores of my roommates before flopping into bed. Her
taste lingers in my mouth, making my thoughts race and my heart ache, accenting
my dreams.
That was the last night of my week in paradise. We all fly
away early the next morning, all gone our separate ways back home, wherever
home is. I don’t see her again, not properly. Not enough for me, tainted by the
smiles and presence of the others. I smile like the rest and play along, the
void inside me warmed by that spark, the memory of something special shared on
the beaches of the Whitsundays.
Ten years later, and an email from someone I don’t know.
Spam, likely. But curiosity gets the better of me, so I open it anyway. It
greets me like I’m a friend, like it’s doing me a favour. It is. Because it’s
telling me about the reunion, of the schoolies now gray and drifting in my
distant memory. Two hundred muddled names, blurred faces I’ve forgotten.
And the one I never could.
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