“Mommy?” A voice asked, reaching out a hand to the open air.

Only the wind held it. It grabbed and grabbed looking for some sort of purchase, but found none. Just empty air.

The wind burned his face with its chill. The noise around him was heavy. But his ears tuned it out. So much noise created a sort of blanket around his ears like a tight rug.

His favourite puffer jacket clung to the edges of his wrists. The winter was too cold but his family couldn’t afford another for him. He kept his hand outstretched, then sirens started blaring.

The people around him were screaming across a concrete jungle of colourful signs and fancy cars.

James stood still as a statue.

His eyes ever so carefully wavering up. Never daring to look down. Towards the pavement and the intersection. People were running past him now, someone was shouting in his ear. Telling him it was going to be okay.

It wasn’t his mother.

So it wasn’t okay.

James didn’t look down.

His hand wandered to his arm unconsciously and he found it. The large burning red skid marks. Strange for someone standing to have fresh skid marks like they’d been dragged along the pavement.

But James hadn’t been standing. He’d been sprawled across the pavement, with countless adults trying to access his injuries. Some knew first aid. Most just gawked.

Tragedy is a strange thing. People are drawn to it like moths to a flame. It was like the smell of blood in a pit of sharks. Suddenly everyone was concerned. Concerned they weren’t going to have their curiosity answered, so they better take a better look.

James didn’t look down.

The sirens were getting closer.

His heart was starting to pump faster as his own childish voice cried in agony. Those red skid marks scarred his left arm for life. Maybe he had a right to feel pained at that moment.

But James knew he hadn’t felt pain yet. Not until he looked down.

So James didn’t.

He didn’t look down in this horrid nightmare when the sirens were next to him, or when the gurney rolled out of the ambulance, or when the nice lady in the yellow jacket told him he got to ride in an ambulance all of his own.

Only when he was sure the first ambulance was gone did he dare to look down.

Nightmares are funny things. They let you stand when you should be laid out crying in pain. They let you think you're running in the sand when fear is behind you.

They trick you.

They lie.

James had followed the nightmare's rules and every night he learned the same truth.

His mind lied.

Because the ambulance was gone, but his mother was still there, lying peacefully on the zebra-striped crossing. Her expression which he last remembered being one of anxious fear and worry had settled into something calm.

Her eyes were clear of emotion.

Free of any desires, guilt, or promise.

And her body was not the mangled gore he pushed down to the bottoms of his mind.

It was just like it had been when they were walking. Yet still and rigid. Cold.

Dead.

James felt something well up in his heart. His eyes stayed glued to the picture of his mother dead in the street. There was swearing to accompany the image. Swearing and screaming.

A large man lumbered into existence in front of him.

His face was blurry and the sounds were blaring but James didn’t care. His eyes were attached to the man, trying to break that fog his mind made. The sound of the man’s voice was loud and obnoxious.

But it all faded to white noise.

Even the sadness in his pumping heart faded away as something old replaced it.

Hate.

“Waffles aren't on the bed and breakfast menu.”

*******

James shot up straight like a ninety-degree angle, his back the perfect square and his spine deeply decompressed by his expensive mattress. As it turned out he had jumped up a little too hard and his head unceremoniously smacked into the bunk above him.

“Mmmmmmmmmm,” James grunted nursing his head like he had a bad hangover. He couldn't remember how many times he’d smashed his head into the top of the bunk, but he sorely regretted agreeing to it.

“As I said, waffles aren’t on the bed and breakfast menu. So get up!” An annoying voice chirped as its hands reached out and started trying to drag him outta bed.

James responded with a light kick, sending the little nuisance tumbling back. While the demon tried to get out from under the laundry he had rolled under, James rubbed his eyes, trying to ignore the messy parts of his room.

He’d like to say that he intended to clean it soon, but with uni and work on his plate, that probably wasn’t going to happen. At least the posters made the room look sort of even.

Along with the shelves of commerce history and self-help books. A new one each Christmas.

James rolled out of bed and ripped his black tee out of his oversized dresser before swapping pyjama pants for jeans in record time.

A quick squiz at the clock told him he had time for breakfast, but not much time.

“Untangle or I’m eating your waffles.” He murmured in a drowsy voice to the living pile of laundry who was totally not his little brother Michael.

James waltzed past the plate of freshly made waffles and straight to the fridge for his morning wake-up call. Sweet, sweet iced coffee. Their kitchen was a living room befit with that slightly upper middle-class apartment in the outer layers of the city, but the man who owned it and was manning the waffle iron looked out of place in his own sleek modern home.

He worked in an almost robotic efficiency making those waffles, showing years of experience with early morning breakfasts.

“You're up late.” The giant of a man said through sips of his black coffee. “Nightmares again?”

James nodded, stealing the nicest-looking waffles from the communal plate and adding them to his own. Although they weren’t truly waffles. More like waffle cakes considering his dad was far too lazy in the morning to prep the waffle mixture. Hugh preferred using the store-bought pancake mixture.

Mindy thought that was some type of heresy against sugary breakfasts but his dad didn’t care in the least. He preferred efficiency over most things. That was just the type of person he was, sporting his work wear of high vis, padded pants, and boots.

It went well with his scruffy beard and short black hair.

Gave off the whole working man look that he strived for.

“Where’s Mike?” His father asked, serving up his own waffles.

“Doing laundry.” James chuckled to himself.

The teenager emerged from their shared room a few moments later looking peeved. The smell of fluffy waffles calmed him down a little but when he sat down at the table he still had an I’m gonna get you in trouble face on.

I regret nothing

James thought to himself sitting there blissfully as his brother complained to their father about how it was unfair they had to share a room together when they had enough money to get an apartment with more than two bedrooms. His father’s face went blank as it normally did when they brought up moving.

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They talked about it a lot, but James had conceded a long time ago that his father would always refuse. He didn’t want to move. Hugh liked the memories here. He was aware that he wouldn’t make new ones like them ever again if he left, so he didn’t. That must’ve been a sore spot between Mindy and him, but James’ didn’t think it was his business to mingle in his father’s relationship.

At least he had one again after so many years.

“You need to stop trying to drag your brother out of bed if you don’t want to get handled, mate,” Hugh said, briskly.

He threw a finger at James.

“And you need to learn to pull your punches on a fourteen-year-old.”

…no.

James kept that thought to himself. If his brother wanted to act like a big boy and then pull childish pranks, then he was gonna get it.

“You’ve both heard of the meteor shower happening tonight? Mindy wants to see it, so you’re on your own for food.” Hugh asked, swiping through the news on his phone.

Meteor shower, huh? James had heard there was going to be one in mid-winter, but he hadn’t realised now was mid-winter. It was only the start of June. How was that mid-winter? He distinctly recalled Jake mentioning how they should go see it together with two girls from his dorm.

Is that why I have so many texts from him?

James wondered looking at the notifications on his phone. He wasn’t opposed to looking at a meteor shower considering they were rare enough of a thing and he liked stars, so it was sort of up his alley. Well more so sci-fi and contemplating the significance of his existence in the cosmos. Going on a date while being distracted by debating whether or not his world would make any sizeable impact on the final frontier was probably not the best idea.

Maybe just skip that one-

It was seven-thirty.

James stood up in a hurry and ran over to the closet to grab his bag.

“Wait, what are we doing for dinner James, hey? Hey!” Michael yelled as he rushed towards the door.

What's better? Michael or Jake? Jakes my best friend. Michael is my brother.

Michael had the distinct advantage of not trying to introduce him to women he would sorely disappoint. But he was also really annoying.

“I’m hanging out with Jake tonight. Figure it out yourself!” James yelled.

He sprinted down the stairs of his building as fast as he could, praying his tram pass still had money in it.

He didn’t want to be late to class again.

**************************

“Why are you here, Mr Grove.” Professor Flint asked in a more neutral tone then James found comforting.

“Because I pay to be,” James responded almost reflexively.

The lecture hall of his uni managed to echo his voice slightly, but it had no need considering his teacher was only a few feet away. Standing above him and talking to him like he was a child instead of an adult after he had inevitably been late for his mathematics class. It wasn’t like he’d tried to be.

Whenever he had one of his nightmares he tended to wake up later than he would’ve wanted. Not that it made much sense. Working late into the a.m’s on his engineering project likely didn’t help. Building a bridge stable enough to hold fifteen kilos was tedious. Building it out of Legos because he made barely enough money to survive made it more so.

“No, Mr. Grove. I’m aware you finance your own education, and I find it commendable.” Professor Flint was lanky and short, which made him a small man by default. His salt and pepper hair tied with his tendency for blazers made him look like a refined gentleman. Also like he would ask you what a “Facebooks” was. “What I’m asking is why are you here? I’ve talked with your father before and I know he wants you to be here. I know why as well.”

“Did Hugh give you the spiel about giving me the chance, about being a social climber and not having to be out in the heat and the cold?” James asked. He already worked as a construction worker for the government part-time and personally, James found it far more satisfying than anything he’d learned about engineering.

“Yes, he did. I found it touching for him to care that much. But it doesn't answer my question.”

He doesn’t care that much. Well, he does care, but not like that.

James' father didn’t give a rat's ass what he did for his future so long as he did something. Being a loafer was not allowed in the Grove household. He had given the same spiel to every teacher James had ever had when he was having problems because frankly, he didn’t want to deal with them.

“Am I staying back because I’m late?” James asked. “Or because you're concerned with my future.”

He appreciated it. Honestly. James liked the idea that teachers actually cared about their students. But he wasn’t worried about his future. Jake always said that was James’s best quality. Because honestly…

I’m just happy to be alive.

“I’m just concerned about your ambitions in life young man. Because you don’t seem to be, considering how you behave in class.” Flint professed.

James didn’t have ambitions beyond his own amusement. He just wanted to live a happy life and have a good death.

Maybe that was his only ambition.

A good death.

James stood and gave him a wide smile.

“I wouldn’t worry. I just have a lot on my plate is all.” James said, earnestly. “Although I’ll try to manage it better so I have more effort to put in.”

That seemed to deflate the professor's worry and he straightened up from his slumped posture. James hadn’t even noticed till the weight lifted off the man’s shoulders. Had he been that worried for a student?

Mr Flint was a good person, James decided at that moment.

I’ll put in more effort for him. That's a good ambition to have.

Maybe that was the magic of good teachers. They made you care because they cared.

Mr Flint let him go after that and James did his best to give thanks for his concern while reiterating that it was unwarranted. He wasn’t wrong to worry, but James felt it wasn’t something he should burden his teacher with. Because he himself didn’t feel burdened by it.

Saying his greatest ambition was a good death at twenty made James sound more suicidal than wise. So he kept it to himself.

James found the rest of his classes the strange mix of thrilling and dull that he always had. There was always a strong divide in his mind between listening and learning that even Professor Flint didn’t seem to understand. At some junctions he could be completely enthralled in the research they were learning about, and the next moment they were doing completely mundane things that he just couldn't wrap his head around.

Boring him half to death.

He hated being bored.

Maybe he had undiagnosed ADHD, maybe he just didn’t care enough about what he was learning. Like the waffles he ate for breakfast, it was probably a mixture.

Still, he slogged through uni as he always did, never hating it and yet never getting in the groove enough to enjoy it either. Maybe James just wasn’t the type of person for it.

By the end of his last class, somehow he was looking forward to the double date, which James hadn't thought possible.

Am I a hermit?

He wondered waiting for Jake at their favourite fast food spot a block or two down from his university. For all the problems the city had, Melbourne hadn’t earned its place as one of the most livable cities in the world for no reason. Like much of Australia, it was a pot of multiculturalism that James wouldn’t trade for anywhere else. It was all he’d ever know and he liked it.

Sure it had its problems, like never having two inches of space to oneself and the rather lacklustre public transport.

But goddamn, the coffee was good. James was already on his second cup.

Iced coffee doesn’t count.

“Yo Jazz!” Jake waved as he walked up to where James was sitting, dressed…

Aw shit.

Jake was every bit the social butterfly that James dreaded ever becoming. He was the type of person who went to a house party and thought “You know what this place needs; more people”. James wasn’t exaggerating. He’d only ever agreed to go to two house parties with Jake and both times he’d hijacked it with his own social circles.

Perhaps that wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but Jake wasn’t the type to worry. He was well-meaning most of the time, and that end, to him, always justified the means. James had been stuck with him since they both started trauma counselling more than a decade ago and he’d be lucky if he ever had a crumb of the man’s social ability.

That being said, James had severely underestimated the dress code for their double date.

Jake cared about his appearance and trends far more than he’d ever admit to James, and it showed in the way he dressed. A long coal-coloured dresscoat over a nice creme-coloured sweater and black chinos. Even his boots were stylish with a nice yellow stitching along their sides.

What did he say they were called again? Dr something… eh, I don’t care.

James decided, realising his jeans, t-shirt, jumper and raincoat might not cut it even if they kept out the chill better than Jake's outfit as he waved back.

“You excited?” Jake asked with a giddy expression as he slid into the chair across from him.

Am I excited? James wondered. He let a smile out.

“Maybe.” He let slip.

“See! I knew-”

“Dude, volume!” James interrupted Jake as he started getting loud enough to spill James's secrets to everyone else. He did that when he got excited.

“Right, right, but see? I knew you needed something like this with all you’ve got going on. That job must be killing your will to live.” Jake said softer, sipping his drink.

“I happen to like my job.”

“Didn’t you almost lose your finger like a week ago?”

Shouldn’t have told him about that.

James coughed before replying. “You get used to it after a while, and the government pays good.”

“Good pay sounds rough.” Jake joked. “What are you even building this time in winter?”

James started before he bit his tongue, thinking. Technically he didn’t know what they were building. It involved a lot of steel and concrete work, along with mining, and he knew it had to do with building subspaces in the sewers of the city.

“I think we might be building a subway.” James guessed.

“Really? A subway in Melbourne. Isn’t that what the trams are for?”

“Look man my foreman doesn’t tell me, he just pays me.”

“Fair, but if I was-” Jake paused, looking at the beeping on his phone. “Shit, shit, we gotta go man. We’re going to be late!”

Jake pulled James up with him to go and he made a sound of protest

“I thought you said you were going to brief me on my date beforehand!” James said, not liking where this was going. He only agreed because he didn’t want to watch the meteor shower with Michael.

“Shhhh.” Jake hushed him. “We’ll walk and talk. Don’t worry it’s far enough away that you’ll know all the ins and outs of Jess before you two lovebirds meet.”

He sighed.

Somehow James felt like this night would go poorly.

He had no idea.