Guess Who: Chapter Eleven

Travis has signed in

Griffiths: Hey man, what's up?

Travis: nothing, just that stupid english assignment

Griffiths: Sounds fun.

Travis: yeah im havin the time of my life here

Griffiths: Ha. Oh, hey, I heard that you got booked yesty. $125 fine?

Travis: ugh yeah i did. i was like 5ks over the limit it was such bullshit. fkn cops man

Griffiths: Trav's first run-in with the law. I'm proud.

Travis: get off it griffiths. and its not the 1st time anyway

Griffiths: That's right! I forgot about the fire extinguisher incident.

Travis: yeah hahaha fun times

Griffiths: Funny times. Man, you were shitting yourself.

Travis: oi so were you and you didnt even nick anything

Griffiths: Nah, that bit was probably you imagining stuff.

Travis: as if

Griffiths: And anyway, I might've been worried if I'd actually done something. But no, only you were stupid enough to spray a McDonalds worker with a fire extinguisher. I mean, what the hell?

Travis: fuck you

Griffiths: If you want to get off that way, ask Mike. Or hey, actually get a girlfriend.

Travis: up yours griffiths that wasnt funny

[Travis appears to be offline. You may still send him messages, but he may not respond]

Griffiths: Uh, sorry?

MIKE has signed in

MIKE: HIIIIIII :D

Griffiths: The extreme capitalisation of your name is making my eye twitch.

MIKE: NO THAT'S JUST A PIECE OF DIRT.

Griffiths: Step away from the Shift key, Mike. This is a serious and unhealthy obsession.

MIKE: LOL NO. BUT HOW DO YOU KNOW I'M NOT USING CAPS LOCK?

Griffiths: Because I disabled that button last time I came over your place. I would have done it to the Shift key too, but then you'd be screwed for assignments.

MIKE: MAN I WISH I WAS SCREWED.

Griffiths: …

MIKE: YOU VOLUNTEERING, GRIFFITHS?

Griffiths: Please tell me Tucker isn't home.

MIKE: SORRY TO CRUSH YOUR DREAMS BUT HE IS. TUCKA IS IN DA HOUUUSE.

Griffiths: So is his love of pot, I assume?

MIKE: HAHA YEP. I LOVE MY BIG BRO 3

Griffiths: Bloody hell…

MIKE: I MET YOUR GIRLIE TODAY. I'D SAY SHE WAS HOT BUT I DON'T PLAY FOR THAT TEAM. SHE WAS DIFFERENT TO WHAT YOU THOUGHT THO.

Griffiths: You met Holmes?

MIKE: IS THAT HER NAME?

Griffiths: Yeah

MIKE: WHAT A WEIRD NAME. WHEN SHE ANSWERED TO THE ROLL I SWEAR SHE SAID YES TO A NAME STARTING WITH S. SSSSSSS. LIKE A SNAKE.

MIKE: BUT HEY, I'M HIGH SO I COULD BE IMAGINING THINGS.

Griffiths: I'm going to bed.

MIKE: GET SOME PICS FOR ME EH? ;) XOXOXO

Sign out? Yes

"Knock knock—anyone home?"

"Mum, hey. What brings you to my soon-to-be-cleaned room?"

"You and I both know this is a never-to-be-cleaned room, Matt."

"You caught me."

"You're not doing anything important, are you?"

"Nah, I like to watch porn when you and Dad aren't in the house."

"Matthew!"

"You're right. That was a lie. Sometimes I do it when you're sleeping."

"Matty…"

"Fine. Sorry. No more inappropriate jokes. And, Mum, please don't call me 'Matty'."

"It's your name, honey."

"Technically, my name is Matthew. Not Matty. Ugh."

"Is this because of—"

"It's not because of anything!"

"Watch your tone."

"I know. Sorry. It's just…let's not mention him, or anyone, or what may or may not have happened last year.

"Honey, you can't ignore your past forever."

"I can damn well try."

"Language, Matt. Keep it respectable."

"You're kidding me, right? I say 'damn' and you ask me to stay respectable. Wow—wow. You do remember what happened last year, right?"

"Your past doesn't define you."

"Well, maybe mine does."

"You've changed. You're better."

"Sure I am."

"Ah—fine. Don't believe in yourself."

"What did you come to talk about, Mum? Not my miserable self-worth, surely."

"I have some bad news. I—your…"

"What is it?"

"It's Nan."

"Oh, God. Is everything OK?"

"No."

"Oh, man. Oh, no. She isn't…?"

"She's back in hospital, yes. She has maybe three weeks."

"But—the doctors said before, after her first stroke—"

"Doctors can be wrong, honey."

"Oh."

"Pack your bags, Matty. We-we're flying down to Melbourne. We're going to b-be with her, when she…oh, God…"

"Don't cry, Mum…"

"I'm fine. It'll be fine. We'll be fine."

"Yeah."

"Yeah. OK. OK, hurry up. We're leaving tomorrow afternoon, so you'll have a chance to say goodbye to your friends in the morning. I'll pick you up from school at recess. We might be away for a while, I'm afraid."

"How long?"

"It depends. Pack your bags, sweetie. I'll call you down for dinner in about an hour."

"Sure."

"Love you, Matty."

"Yeah, love you too."

To: s_holmes at hotmail dot com
From: soccer-star-MG at live dot com dot au
Subject: Reply ASAP, kid.
Date: Tuesday, 25 Feb 2012 6:11:25 PM (AEST)

Hey, as soon as you can get this, could you go on chat? Need to talk to you about something.

Email: s_holmes at hotmail dot com
Password: **********
Screen name: Holme-dog
Status: N/A
Appear: [Online/Offline/Away/Busy]

SIGN IN YES

'Holme-dog' has signed in

Griffiths (6:21 p.m.): Hey.

Holme-dog (6:21 p.m.): You summoned me?

Griffiths (6:21 p.m.): Yeah. I need your phone number.

Holme-dog (6:22 p.m.): Oh, you do, do you?

Griffiths (6:22 p.m.): I'm gonna take a wild guess here and assume that you're still pissed at me.

Holme-dog (6:22 p.m.): Get over yourself, Griffiths. It's not just you I'm pissed at. I'm annoyed at everything.

Griffiths (6:23 p.m.): Yeah, fair enough. I know exactly what you're talking about. I'm having a pretty crappy day myself.

Holme-dog (6:25 p.m.): I just waited, like, five minutes for you to elaborate. Feel free to dump your pain onto me any second now.

Griffiths (6:26 p.m.): Right, right. Sorry. We—me, my mum and my dad—are going to Melbourne tomorrow afternoon.

Holme-dog (6:26 p.m.): Why?

Griffiths (6:26 p.m.): It's my nan. She's really sick.

Holme-dog (6:26 p.m.): Like, sick-sick or just sick?

Griffiths (6:27 p.m.): I've no clue what you just asked me, but I'll just say that the answer is whichever means 'going-to-die-sick'. She's had a heart attack, and they don't think she'll recover like she did last time.

Holme-dog (6:27 p.m.): Oh, man. That sucks.

Griffiths (6:27 p.m.): Yeah, it does. But I'm not here for sympathy or anything. Just your phone number—I don't know how easy it would be to send emails, since Nan doesn't have internet and I doubt Mum will let me bring my laptop.

Holme-dog (6:27 p.m.): Are phones even allowed in the criteria?

Griffiths (6:27 p.m.): Screw the criteria. I mean, is this even about the project anymore?

Holme-dog (6:28 p.m.): How do you mean?

Griffiths (6:28 p.m.): Well, aren't we sort of friends now? Not just email-buddies?

Griffiths (6:30 p.m.): Holmes?

Holme-dog (6:34 p.m.): How are we friends? We've never met. I barely know you. I'll give you my number but it's for the project.

['Holme-dog' appears to not be online. You can still send her messages, but she may not respond]

To: soccer-star-MG at live dot com dot au
From: s_holmes at hotmail dot com
Subject: Reply ASAP, kid.
Date: Tuesday, 25 Feb 2012 7:02:51 AM (AEST)

OK, I might have been harsh. I'm in a shitty mood, I know, and I'm sorry. We are friends. You're the closest I have to a friend other than Kira, anyway.

Have fun in Melbourne—or, like, as much as you can with the awful situation. I sent you my number in our IM chat. Sorry.

You have one new message/s from Ben Mackey
Read new message/s from Ben Mackey? Yes

From: Mackey, Ben
Date: Wed, 26 Feb, 2012

Hey man, Mike told me about your nan. Sucks grimy Jimmy Ortiz balls, that does. Wish I could do something to help you out, man. See you in third period?

Reply? Yes

To: Mackey, Ben
Date: Wed, 26 Feb, 2012

Nah, I'm getting picked up at recess. Why weren't you in Woodwork this morning?

You have one new message/s from Ben Mackey
Read new message/s from Ben Mackey? Yes

From: Mackey, Ben
Date: Wed, 26 Feb, 2012

I was getting my knee checked out. Ryan Taylors, the piece of shit, messed it up during a muck-around game on the weekend. I'm in Adv. Maths right now—how the hell did I even make it in this class?—but I'll catch you at recess before you get picked up? How long'll you be gone, anyway?

Reply? Yes

To: Mackey, Ben
Date: Wed, 26 Feb, 2012

You're in that class because you cheated on the test last year. You're not as subtle as you think, mate.
And I dunno how long I'll be gone. Few weeks maybe. It's, what, Week 6 now? I'll be back in Week 8 or 9, I think. I mean, after she, y'know, dies, we'll have to organise the house and the funeral and her will. I dunno.

You have one new message/s from Ben Mackey
Read new message/s from Ben Mackey? Yes

From: Mackey, Ben
Date: Wed, 26 Feb, 2012

Definitely no chance she'll pull through?

Reply? Yes

To: Mackey, Ben
Date: Wed, 26 Feb, 2012

Doubtful. I have a feeling she doesn't want hang around too long anyway. Shit, a teacher's coming. Don't text bac

"Matt! Hurry—we're leaving for the airport in a half hour. Chop chop!"

"Yeah, Mum, hang on. Just checking my email."

Create new contact? Yes
First name S.
Last name Holmes
Mobile No. **********
Home N/A
Work N/A
Email N/A
Address N/A

Save contact? Yes

To: Holmes, S.
Date: Thu, 27 Feb, 2012

Hey, it's Griffiths. Got here OK. Nan's bad.

You have one new message/s from S. Holmes
Read new message/s from S. Holmes? Yes

From: Holmes, S.
Date: Thu, 27 Feb, 2012

Just saw your text then. So sorry I was a bitch about us being friends before.
No idea about timezones, but it's 10 p.m. here. G'night.

Reply? Yes

To: Holmes, S.
Date: Thu, 27 Feb, 2012

Matthew Griffiths. Rollcall class 11E. Extraordinaire at screwing up. Committed manslaughter while under the influence (in defense, but still fucking murder). Bullet wound on the left hip. I guess that you win

Save message to drafts? No

Delete message for good? Yes

To: Holmes, S.
Date: Thu, 27 Feb, 2012

Sweet dreams.