Measuring Up

by G. J. Stroud

Overview

Jonah’s life has been like riding the perfect wave—the wonderfully simple routine of school, partying, and surfing with his friends. With the stress of his senior year looming, he realizes all of that is about to change. Rattled by the fear that he is destined to live in the shadow of his legendary older brother, Link, Jonah’s self-confidence begins to waver, along with his mission to lose his virginity before turning 18. Just when he has decided things couldn't get any more complicated, Link drops a bombshell on his unsuspecting family. Despite these overwhelming transitions, Jonah soon discovers that life has a funny way of sorting out the big issues from the small, and that the answers he’s looking for may be right in front of him. Frank and funny, this coming-of-age novel is a definitive tale of family, friendship, and the pressures of adolescence.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781921372902
Publisher:	Scribe Publications Party Limited
Publication date:	08/01/2010
Edition description:	Original
Pages:	186
Product dimensions:	5.00(w) x 7.70(h) x 0.60(d)
Age Range:	12 Years

About the Author

G. J. Stroud is a primary school teacher. She has been awarded two residencies at Varuna Writers’ House and contributes a regular column to her local paper.

Read an Excerpt

Measuring Up

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By G. J. Stroud

Scribe Publications Pty Ltd

Copyright © 2009 G. J. Stroud
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-925113-34-1

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CHAPTER 1

My brother calls me Feet, short for foetus. He was five when Mum was pregnant with me. And curious. Lincoln wanted to know all the details so Mum explained that I was still growing. She told him I wasn't a baby yet, just a foetus. Link loved the word.

'Mum's having a foetus.' He told everyone. Apparently, he could quote the due date and explain the concept of trimesters. And the worst part was that I was trapped, floating around in embryonic fluid. I couldn't even tell him to shut up.

Link's still a freak. Twenty-two and doing Arts at Canberra Uni. He's already got his Masters in BS. He bullshits his way through everything. People don't seem to notice him crapping on; he's like a celebrity.

He's not that bad — only brother I've got. I just wish he'd call me Jonah. Not Feet. I'm not some unformed little sprog anymore. But there's no point arguing. Link's response is always the same: 'You don't get it, do ya, Feet? You're nothing yet. Your life hasn't even started.'

Like I said — he's full of crap.

Just after Christmas, Mum and Dad were off to the Whitsundays. Mum said she needed 'real sun', as though ours in Merimbula was a cheap imitation. She didn't trust me to be home alone and insisted that I go to Canberra and stay with Link. That annoyed me because Link could've come home and stayed with me. He usually does — bums the whole summer break at Mum and Dad's calling me a foetus. If I'm a foetus, he's a sponge. But not this summer. He came down for Christmas Day and that was it.

'Can't you just stay here?' We were struggling up the rocks from Short Point Beach. It was Christmas morning and the surf had been good. I thought he might change his mind. 'It's five weeks, Link. Look what we'll be missing.'

We turned to stare at the surf below. Perfect sets were rolling in and the water was clear. We watched a young kid catch a neat little wave and ride it all the way in.

'I can't. Not right now.' Link shook his head like a wet dog, letting droplets spill over me.

'What's the problem? Uni doesn't start till February and I'm about to do Year 12. I just want to start the year right, you know?'

'I'm not staying, so shut up.' He slapped me on the back, his palm burning into my skin.

I headed for home without him, but Link didn't seem to care.

Halfway down our street I met Dad staggering up the hill with his ancient longboard. I was surprised to see him. He hardly ever surfed — he said it wasn't a suitable pastime for the local senior sergeant.

'What're you doing, mate?' He put his board down and wiped the sweat from his face. 'I thought you and Link were surfing.'

'We were. Link's still there.' The asphalt was boiling under my feet.

'Come and have a hit with your old man,' Dad said, reclaiming his board and gesturing for me to turn around.

I stepped onto the grass and thought about going back for a surf with Dad. Then I remembered Link and that stinging slap on the back.

'Maybe later.' I trudged down the hill to our house and dumped my gear in the garage. Then I sat out on the deck and waited for them to come home. I told myself I wasn't sulking.

They finally wandered back down the hill. Link was talking nonstop, probably dribbling some crap about uni. Dad had his head down. They paused outside our front yard and I watched them rest their boards against the fence. Link was still talking.

Dad stretched out his quads, leaning his weight against the fence. I wondered if he'd be able to walk the next day. Mum'd spew if he did an injury before the big trip.

Link suddenly looked up at me on the deck, as though he'd known I was there all along.

'Hey, Feet!' he called out. 'Get us a beer, would ya?'

'Get it yourself.'

Five weeks in Canberra with Link. I couldn't wait.

Boxing Day was stinking hot and the last place I wanted to be was stuck in a car with my brother heading towards our nation's capital. The salty coolness of my morning surf had quickly evaporated and by the time we reached the city I was already counting the days until I'd be home.

Link had a flat in Watson, a northern suburb of Canberra. The place was dingy with mismatched furniture and curtains that were always closed. Used plates and cups were left to rot like skanky ornaments.

Link directed me to the lounge room. He dumped my bag on an extended sofa bed that looked suspiciously slept in.

'You can sleep here.'

I pulled at the sheet and it lifted up in one stiff, wrinkled piece.

'Nice,' I said, raising my eyebrows.

'Mum doesn't work here.' Link poked me in the chest and sauntered through to the kitchen.

A large poster of Pamela Anderson in all her red-swimsuit glory beamed down from the wall. I loved her in those Baywatch pictures, before she got her tits pumped up to the max. She looked more real back then, like she might even go for a guy like me. I smiled up at her.

On the opposite wall, twice the size of Pam, was another poster. It featured a naked man, done in black and white. He had dark skin and he was big. Too big for Speedos, this guy would probably even bust out of boardies. It was meant to look arty — sexy and erotic — but there was something not quite right. And I don't just mean his dick. The look in his eyes, like he was starving. I wondered if Pam might need her heavy-duty tits after all.

I straightened the crusty sheets and tried not to look at the black dude. Instead, I thought of the beautiful surf I was missing. It was early afternoon and the sand bar off Main Beach would be pumping. I could imagine Dan soaking it up. Ferret would be causing havoc out the back, cutting people off on his little boogie board. If the day was nice, Mel might even be there watching them.

I was almost homesick but then Link's flatmate strolled past. Katerina was older than Link, another Arts student. She was peeling off her top as she walked and I caught a glimpse of her smooth, tanned stomach. I looked at Pammy and back at Kat. A few weeks here mightn't be so bad.

But then Link came in, beer in hand and shirt off. He scratched his belly and sat down. There was a moment of silence. Then he stood up and farted in my face.

Living with Link was like being on a whole different planet. No one got out of bed before ten. People came and went. Drugs were smoked and swallowed and sniffed. Sex was joked about and alcohol flowed like tap water. I tried to imagine myself living this exact life twelve months from now, but the stress of the HSC consumed me. I couldn't imagine the day after the exams, let alone the year.

Link was more focused than the others. He had a basic routine: a late sleep-in to recover from the night before, then gym, followed by hours in the bathroom. Most afternoons he went out. He never said where he went and I was never invited. Nights were always the same. Link cooked for the odd selection of people that had accumulated in the flat. If Link felt like going out, they'd all go. If not, they'd stay in. He was the alpha-male that Mel would laugh about. Everyone would be talking and joking, but always looking towards him.

None of that surprised me. Link was a natural. A natural person. People were his thing. Part of me admired that, but what was he really doing? Cooking dinner, crapping on and smoking pot.

The gym was new though and I was surprised to see how strong he was. He worked out for at least two hours every day. He had his own weights set up in the garage. I'd never thought of Link as being strong, having muscles. Surfing was our sport. We didn't do anything else — not seriously.

'Why do you do this?' I was spotting him as he bench-pressed a big bar of weights.

'Fourteen, fifteen.' He exhaled and dropped the bar back onto its cradle. 'I dunno.' He rubbed a towel over his face and shoulders. 'Kat's brother sold me the gym stuff and since there's no surf here, I just started doing it.' He wandered over to the tiny mirror he had propped in the corner. 'And now I look magnificent.' He flexed.

'You do.' I admitted. 'You look good. Even better than when you were surfing.'

Link kept posing and I took in his solid quads and the hard straight lines of his back. His chest and abs were firm and there was more bulk around his shoulders and neck. He thumped his chest like Tarzan.

'You should try it.' He gestured to the bench and I shrugged, taking his place under the bar. He explained the best posture and technique.

'This'll be good for you, Jonah.'

My name. It was nice to hear it.

I liked working out with Link. We started a routine of long runs in the morning washed down with fortified protein shakes. Link had me taking a heap of different muscle-boosting vitamins and he worked me like a dog. He was a relentless trainer and genuine praise was hard to earn.

Flirting was another uni pastime I decided to try. On New Year's Eve I tried to hit on Katerina. Link had a party in his flat: millions of people wall-to-wall. I'd had a lot to drink and so had she. We were sweating it out in the kitchen on the unofficial dance floor. The music was crap — straight from Link's collection. Madonna was begging us to strike a pose and Kat was using me as a prop, posing and pouting around me while I tried to anticipate her moves. I reached for her hand and gave it a kiss, trying to draw her towards me. Even pissed as a newt she'd laughed and slapped me away. Told me I was just a baby and not to waste my time on her.

I didn't kid myself, I knew I had no chance with Katerina, but we had a lot of fun together. Since my bed was in the lounge room, she would often hop in with me. We'd lie there and watch TV or use the PlayStation. It wasn't anything hot, more like she was cuddling in with the family pet.

I was out of control whenever Kat was near me. The first time she crawled in with me, Ferret's voice had sprung into my head like the voice of Satan. She's a hottie. You should bang her. Kat was leagues beyond me though and even I knew you didn't 'bang' a beautiful woman. You were meant to make love to them and apparently that was something very different to having a root.

She just wanted to talk anyway. And it's a good thing she was happy to fill in the silence. I loved having her beside me but I had no idea what to say.

I was sure she'd sense my virginity and expose me for the inexperienced kid that I was. She didn't though, she just stared up at the black dude while I gazed at Pam.

Most of the time, I was trying to hide my erection while following the drift of the conversation. Kat never seemed to notice my hard-on and sometimes she'd lie on her side with her tits falling everywhere beneath her t-shirt. I'd stare at Pamela Anderson, amazed that this was my safest option.

After a while I'd calm down and the blood would start circulating back to my brain. Then I'd try to talk. It was like she really wanted to hear what I was saying.

'I wish I could meet a guy like that.' Kat looked up at the Mr Big poster and playfully kicked her leg at him.

'Really?' My little pecker shrunk away.

'Yeah.' She sighed.

"Cause he's got a massive dick?'

'No.' Kat sat up and looked at me. 'Because he's self-assured. Look at him. He knows what he wants. He's determined and decisive. He doesn't want to be friends. He wants action.'

'That's 'cause he's got a big dick.'

Kat laughed and flicked her hair round. 'Yeah. Probably. I mean a big dick's a good thing! But you could have an industrial-sized hose down there and it means nothing if you don't know what you want.'

'Yeah?' The industrial-sized hose momentarily distracted me.

'Yeah.' She turned on her side and her breasts followed, one of them gently grazing against me. I felt my dick firming up. 'So are you going to follow in your brother's footsteps?'

'Sorry?' By now I was out of control and hoping my penis would grow to industrial proportions.

'You know — his big break; the new job.' She wriggled her fingers in the air to put the words new job in inverted commas. I looked at her and tried to think about what she was saying. Suddenly, her phone rang, vibrating between us and sending me crazy as she fumbled around to answer it. Her tits were on the loose and the blood continued pounding in my groin. She rolled off the bed and wandered away talking animatedly. At the doorway she blew me a kiss.

'Beat that,' I said to the black dude.

'Where do you go?' I asked Link the next day. We were wiping down equipment slick with sweat.

'Go?'

'Yeah. You know. Most arvos when you nick off after weights.'

Link paused, towel resting on a worn and cracked training bench. 'Shops.'

'Liar.' I flicked him with the towel and he flicked me back; double strength. 'Just friggin' tell me,' I said, rubbing the welt on my ribs.

He sat down and plucked at the foam bulging from the cracked bench.

'You can't tell Mum.'

I nodded.

'Or Dad.'

I nodded again.

'You can't tell anyone.'

'Yeah, righto. What is it? You've joined the secret service?'

'I've dropped out of uni.'

'Really?' I sat down on the other end of the bench and tossed my towel on the floor. 'Mum'll freak! She'll go ballistic.'

'She won't know,' Link insisted.

'Hey, I'm not going to tell her, but she'll find out, won't she? I mean, sooner or later, you'll have to tell her.' I paused, imagining Mum hearing the news. Then I laughed. 'She's gonna kill you.'

'Shut up.'

I stopped joking and looked at him.

'I've got a job. The pay's good and it's going to get better. I'm building a career and once I've got something to show for it, I'll tell Mum.'

'So what is it?' I looked at him with a million crazy thoughts running through my mind. Pro weightlifter. Bouncer. Drug dealer.

'Modelling.'

I stared at him, trying to work out if he was for real.

'I'm modelling. It's just a few small things right now, but my agency says I've got potential and I've already made some good money. I'm covering the rent, so that's okay.'

He looked at me with a face I'd never seen before. I didn't know what to say.

'And I'm good at it, Joe. I really like it and the shots look great. Different, hey? Like you don't even recognise yourself sometimes, but they're good and I'm meeting heaps of awesome people.'

That same face again. And I realised, for the first time ever, my big brother wanted my approval.

'Good for you, Lincoln.' I held his gaze. 'Good for you.'

'Thanks,' he said smiling. 'You can clean the rest of this.'

He kicked the towel at my feet and walked out of the shed.

That night I dreamt I was having sex, except instead of a penis I had an enormous industrial-sized hose. Women were queuing up for me to service them and next in line was Pamela Anderson, only when she came closer she morphed into Mum and started screaming at me for letting Link quit uni. I woke up feeling horrified and exhausted, trying to tally up how many joints I had shared the night before.

There wasn't a clean glass in the kitchen. Two strangers were asleep at the table. Uni living was starting to get to me. I acted like I didn't care, but I just wanted a clean bed and a toilet without permanent skid marks. I missed the surf and the sea breeze.

Year 12 loomed ahead of me like a massive grey fog. I couldn't imagine getting through it to enjoy a life of hung-over haphazardness like Link did. I wanted order and calm — some sign that life could be controlled and navigated. I needed Mel.

The next day I bummed money from Link, put credit on my phone and called her.

'How're your holidays?' I pulled at the hairs on my leg.

'Yeah, okay. Yours?'

'Alright. I'm over it though. Living here is like being on a never-ending school camp. I can't study.'

'Don't stress. You'll be back in routine soon and you can catch up.'

'Mmm. I hope.' I scribbled little crosses on an old pizza box.

'Dan and Stacey are back together. They broke up for about four hours over New Year's.'

I was keen to know if Mel had hooked up with anyone for New Year's, but she didn't say. And I wasn't going to ask. I remembered my dismal effort with Kat and was glad that none of my mates had been there to see me.

I listened as Mel crapped on about our friends from school. It was chick-shit and I knew it. Guys can smell it a mile away. I was usually immune to the stuff. Girly gossip and bitchy backstabbing didn't interest me. But I just wanted to touch base with home, to remember my real life. Mel kept telling me I wasn't missing anything and to live it up while I could.

'And get this,' she said, giggling. 'Ferret got into a wave-rage fight. Some guy from Melbourne cut him off and you know how Ferret always wears his snorkel mask? He followed the guy to the car park with his mask and flippers still on. The guy from Melbourne goes, "I'm about ready to punch you, mate, but I wouldn't like to hit a guy with glasses."'

I laughed. The world was good again.

'And Jonah?' Mel paused.

'Yeah.'

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from Measuring Up by G. J. Stroud. Copyright © 2009 G. J. Stroud. Excerpted by permission of Scribe Publications Pty Ltd.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Editorial Reviews

"This novel puts a 2009 twist on the whole sex, surf, and sun premise that was so beautifully captured in the groundbreaking book Puberty Blues. . . . A fun, humorous coming-of-age story to be enjoyed by boys and girls alike, it will certainly resonate with readers over 15 years of age."  —Australian Bookseller & Publisher

"A modern-day homage to Puberty Blues."  —Courier Mail

From the Publisher