PETCHALL: We just need to know that you’re safe. Your mum wants you to come home now.

TAMARA: Home?

PETCHALL: Yes.

TAMARA: My mum wants me to come home? Doesn’t that sound nice?

PETCHALL: That’s what she said, Tamara.

TAMARA: Did you ask her to define home? The one she left or the new one she has that she keeps me out of like I’m some dog.

PETCHALL: No. I know you’ve having a rough time.

It can’t be easy.

TAMARA: What can’t?

PETCHALL: Things with your dad. With the… news.

TAMARA: What do you know about that?

What is it with schools? You find out everything.

PETCHALL: It’s so we can try and help.

TAMARA: Help? How can you help? Check I’m in uniform?

PETCHALL: What would you like us to do?

TAMARA: Everything’s gone bad and it’s closing in around me. Do some-thing. Stop it. Click your fingers or something and make it stop. Give me something better?

PETCHALL: I can’t/

TAMARA: Of course you can’t. Teachers can’t do shit.

Not staying here anyway. Why bother?

PETCHALL: What are you talking about, Tamara?

TAMARA: I’m leaving.

What’s the point? You try to do things right and they fuck up anyway. I hate everything about this place. Everyone knows your fucking business and it’s all so friggin’/ boring.

PETCHALL: You’re upset.

TAMARA: Yeah.

PETCHALL: But you’re a good student. You have a good future.

TAMARA: You reckon?

PETCHALL: I reckon.

PETCHALL: Let’s talk later when you’ve had a chance to settle down.

I’ll give you a note to go back to class.

TAMARA: I’m not going back to sit in that shit box. You can keep your notes and all your concern for some other case.

She goes.

PETCHALL: Follow but I’m too slow. Ladies in the office point to the swinging doors.

TAMARA: sms

SQUID: u still in there?

sms

TAMARA: no.

sms

SQUID: where r u?

sms

TAMARA: fuck you fuck off

sms

SQUID: nice. u in the park?

sms

TAMARA: no

sms

SQUID: u ok?

sms.

Nothing.

TAMARA: Stand on street get on the bus. Sit on the back seat looking down at people in cars in traffic women on phones in four-wheel drives and men in fluoro uniforms driving utes. Think about Dane and his arms and his smile and how he said the way you do that you sure wouldn’t know you were only seventeen. Seventeen.

Make plans for me and Dane. I could learn to surf—he’d like that—reckon he’ll let me live at his place for a while till I found a job till I got on my feet a bit…