What I Like About Me

by Jenna Guillaume

  ‘Let’s go get some lunch,’ I said after a while.

  ‘It’s too early. I’m not really hungry yet,’ Anna protested.

  ‘Yeah, me neither,’ Sebastian said.

  ‘I’ll come,’ Beamer said. Of course.

  So Beamer and I (there’s a phrase I never thought I’d say) trudged up the beach. And I tried to shake off the sinking feeling I got as we walked away from Sebastian and Anna, lying side by side. I tried even harder to dismiss the visual of Sebastian leaning over Anna and kissing her, and the knot that visual was weaving in my stomach. Because Anna seemed happy. And I had told her it was okay. Which meant it had to be.

  That didn’t mean I had to be okay with getting stuck with Beamer, did it?

  As soon as we were out of earshot of the others, he turned to me, a serious look on his face. ‘Listen, about the other night –’

  ‘Forget about it,’ I said, cutting him off.

  ‘Nah, Maisie, I wanted to explain –’

  ‘There’s nothing to explain.’

  ‘There is,’ he said. ‘I wanted to explain that spending time with you – it wasn’t some trick or plan to allow Seb to get some action.’

  ‘Ha. Like that’s not what’s happening right now?’

  ‘No, that’s not what’s happening right now,’ he said, frustration seeping into his voice.

  ‘It’s fine – I told Anna she should be with Sebastian,’ I said.

  He raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘But I thought –’

  ‘If they like each other, I’m not going to get in their way. I’m over him, anyway.’

  Beamer snorted as he passed in front of me. We had reached the outdoor shower and tap at the end of the path.

  ‘Looks like you and I are gonna be stuck with each other, hey,’ I said with resignation.

  I couldn’t see Beamer’s face and he didn’t say anything as he stood under the shower, rinsing the salt and sand off his body. I looked away, waiting for my turn at the tap. I just needed to rinse off my feet.

  Cold water splashed my side. I squealed and turned back to see Beamer grinning wickedly. He laughed when he saw the murderous expression on my face.

  ‘It’s like you said, Maisie Martin: you’re stuck with me.’

  I let out an irritated cry and walked away as quickly as I could. He jogged to catch up, still dripping wet. His towel was flung around his shoulders and he ran one end through his hair as he smiled at me. He opened his mouth, and I expected an apology – however insincere it might be – but all he said was, ‘So, The Scorpion King, San Andreas or Central Intelligence?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Which do you want to watch first?’ He sniffed and wiped at his face with the towel.

  I remembered our argument from the other night. ‘Beamer, you’re not going to convince me that The Rock is the greatest action star of all time, so you may as well just drop it now. You’re wrong, and you have terrible opinions.’

  ‘Prove it,’ he said with a grin.

  We made a deal. I’m going to show him three Arnold Schwarzenegger movies and he’ll show me three of The Rock’s. We’ll each rate them according to five important criteria: quotable lines, overall entertainment value, explosions, timelessness and action hero-ness (which is kinda like je ne sais quoi in that it’s a distinctive quality that’s hard to describe). We have to be fair. And at the end of the experiment, the person whose champion has the least amount of points loses and has to take a punishment of the winner’s choosing.

  It’s really, really important that I win, ’cos I can only imagine what sick monstrosities Beamer’s mind would conjure up.

  We grabbed lunch and went back to the cabin, starting off with Terminator 2: Judgment Day, which Beamer had never seen (just shows you how unqualified his opinion truly is). We agreed to keep our scores private until we’ve made it through all the movies, to ensure it’s a fair competition.

  I gotta admit, it was pretty fun. I mean, you can’t really go wrong with T2, and it helps that you have to stay pretty silent while watching a movie, so my Beamer Tolerance Threshold remained in the safe zone. Even when he injected his own commentary over key scenes, I didn’t mind, because I could tell he was enjoying it (I swear, as Arnie gave that last thumbs-up at the end, I glanced over at Beamer and he had tears in his eyes). I’m totally gonna win this thing.

  We only got through the one movie before Sebastian and Anna walked in, all sunshiney and giggly, and Anna announced she was not sitting through any action movies when it was still so beautiful outside. The four of us went for a walk, Sebastian and Anna leading the way. Sebastian started up a game of ‘Would You Rather’ that included highly intellectual questions like ‘Would you rather never find love, or get married to your soul mate, but have to wear a vest made of their pubes every day?’ (it’d have to be the pube vest, obviously), and ‘Would you rather pee every time you laugh, or have your eyeball pop out every time you sneeze?’ (I chose pee laughter).

  At dinner, Sebastian made a big show of getting Anna a drink and passing her food and generally being oh-so-attentive. It made all the adults exchange looks, but that didn’t seem to bother Sebastian. He only stirred when Kane, cackling with glee, said, ‘Sebby, is Anna your girlfriend now?’, and Lincoln started making smooching noises. Their laughter soon turned to screams when Sebastian got them both in a headlock. He didn’t let go until his dad said something to him in Hokkien that made all three brothers settle down real quick.

  When Sebastian returned to his seat, he and Anna shared a look that felt so intimate, I was almost embarrassed for them.

  Still. It was nice to see Anna so happy. Really, it was.

  Thursday, 21 December

  1 thing I discovered today

  1. I think my parents might be headed for a divorce.

  Source: This article I found when I googled ‘how to know if your parents are going to get a divorce’.

  *

  Look, I didn’t really think my parents were in that much trouble. I mean, sure, the amount they’ve been fighting and/or not talking lately has been kinda freaking me out. I kept telling myself it’d blow over. But Dad hasn’t been answering my calls the past couple of days. When I mentioned it to Mum, her lips went all tight and she muttered he was busy working, but I could tell she was holding something back.

  I finally got through to Dad today, and . . . he was really cheery. For a moment I considered I’d just been overthinking everything. But then Dad asked to be put on to Mum, and she said she couldn’t talk right then – because she was painting her nails. The disappointment in Dad’s voice when I relayed the message was like a punch to the gut.

  When I hung up the phone, I turned to Dr Google, expecting the results to tell me, ‘Don’t be silly, Maisie! Your parents love each other! Everyone goes through rough patches, they’ll be fine!’ But what actually came up was this article, ‘8 Interesting Signs Your Parents Might Get Divorced’ (although I don’t know what’s so INTERESTING about it). And it was things like, oh, you know, avoiding talking to each other, spending long hours at work, going on separate holidays, taking extra interest in their appearance . . .

  . . .

  . . .

  . . .

  DJ, ARE MY PARENTS GETTING A DIVORCE?

  I know what you’re going to say. Why am I asking you? What would you know? Nothing, except what I tell you, of course.

  I guess I could ask Laura. Mum tells her everything.

  Or, you know, I could just ask my parents.

  But I don’t think I will, DJ.

  Because I don’t think I want to know the answer. Not really.

  Instead, I’ll do what any healthy, well-adjusted sixteen-year-old would do. I’ll bury my worries deep, deep down, and use copious amounts of alcohol to forget they exist.

  Kidding! I’ll just drown them out with terrible movies and other assorted summer fun. Today, for instance, I watched Fast Five with Beamer (I’ve seen it before and I’d never admit it to him, but it�
�s pretty great), and I dragged my butt to the beach with the others not once but twice. I didn’t go in the water, of course. But I was there. Tonight, we all played Monopoly. (Anna won. She’s viciously competitive when it comes to games. So is Sebastian; he sulked for a good few minutes like the sore loser he is – but then Anna’s kisses cheered him up considerably.)

  As for me, not a worry was to be found. No siree, none from me. Hakuna Matata. No worries. None about my parents. None about Sebastian and Anna. Especially none about my sister, who – did I mention? – is arriving tomorrow. None at all.

  Friday, 22 December

  3 things I discovered today

  1. FORGET WHAT I SAID ABOUT NO WORRIES. I AM ALL WORRIES. IN FACT, I’M IN WHAT YOU MIGHT CALL A PICKLE, IF YOU WERE A NINETY-FIVE-YEAR-OLD NAMED BERYL.

  Source: A surprising phone call I received today.

  2. My sister is the biggest hypocrite in the world.

  Source: Her actions do not match her words. Not even close.

  3. People have really strong opinions about tomato sauce.

  Source: It’s the kind of debate that divides friends. Nations.

  *

  Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

  I feel like Anakin Skywalker in Revenge of the Sith. ‘What have I done? What have I dooone?’

  Let me go back to the start. Another morning at the beach (if you’re wondering: yes, I’m sick of it, but apparently I’m the only one).

  Everyone was in the water and I was lying on the sand, stewing in my own juices as per usual, listening to my mega movie scores playlist (it relaxes me, okay?). All of a sudden, Leila’s grinning face was above me.

  ‘Hey, babe, I thought that was you,’ she said as I pulled my earphones out and sat up. She pointed to her group of friends about twenty metres away and insisted I join them.

  ‘Oh, I don’t want to intrude,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t be silly! Everyone wants to meet you.’ She was already walking away, so I scrambled up to follow her. I glanced out to where Anna’s head was bobbing in the water, waved to try to get her attention and then pointed towards Leila to indicate I was moving. She waved back, so I assumed she got the message.

  Leila’s friends were spread out on towels in an informal semicircle, a packet of chips open between them, alongside an iPhone hooked up to portable speakers playing Flume.

  ‘Maisie, meet the crew.’ Leila gestured to a girl with dark hair piled on top of her head and glasses framing her dark eyes. ‘This is Jo, she’s the smartest person I know. She’s gonna change the world one day.’

  Jo rolled her eyes, but smiled and waved at me.

  Leila pointed to a white guy with brown tousled hair and big lips, who was lying on his side propped up on his elbow next to a pretty girl with the longest hair I’ve ever seen. ‘That’s Will and Hannah; they’re sickeningly cute, but not terrible people if you can ever get them apart,’ Leila said.

  Will stuck his finger up at her and Hannah threw a chip in her direction. They both said ‘hey’ to me.

  Leila gestured to the last person in the group, a skinny guy wearing a wide-brimmed hat. ‘And this is Kieron, the bane of my existence.’

  He blew Leila a kiss and smiled at me. ‘Help yourself,’ he said, gesturing to the chips as Leila sat down and I kneeled beside her.

  ‘You’re just in time to help us settle a debate,’ Will said, speaking with his mouth full. ‘Does tomato sauce belong in the fridge or the cupboard?’

  ‘Um . . . the fridge?’ I said.

  Will groaned, but Jo let out a ‘yussss’ of victory and said, ‘See! I told you! It says right there on the bottle: Refrigerate after opening!’

  ‘Well my mum has been putting it in the cupboard my whole life and it’s never done me any damage,’ Will said.

  ‘That we know of,’ Jo shot back.

  ‘Guys. Come on. There’s only one place it belongs,’ Leila said.

  The others looked at her expectantly.

  ‘In the bin.’

  ‘Mate, that’s un-Australian,’ said Will.

  ‘Mate,’ Leila said, lacing it with meaning – that meaning being, Shut up, you’ll never win this.

  They traded insults back and forth for a while until Hannah said, ‘Alright, change of subject, please,’ which got them onto the topic of the ‘epic’ party happening at Will’s place on Christmas Eve.

  ‘You should come, Maisie,’ Leila said. ‘It’ll be fun. Bring the others too.’

  ‘Oh, no – I mean, I wouldn’t want to intrude.’

  ‘There you go again. You wouldn’t be. Right, Will?’

  Will was quiet for a moment.

  ‘It’s okay, really, don’t worry about it,’ I said.

  ‘Look, I’m not gonna lie to you, Maisie – I don’t like it,’ said Will, scratching his chin.

  Hannah elbowed him in the stomach.

  ‘Ow! What? It’s not my fault the woman has terrible opinions about tomato sauce. I mean, I might invite her into my house and my sauce would somehow mysteriously end up in the fridge, and then who would I have to blame but myself for letting an enemy into my territory?’

  ‘Ignore him, Maisie. He’s just being a dick. You’re definitely coming,’ said Jo.

  ‘Hey, nah, you can’t say that, you’re one of them! You’re not invited either,’ Will protested, trying to keep a straight face and failing.

  ‘But you’re coming, right, Maisie?’ The question came from Hannah.

  ‘Of course she is,’ Will said, tossing a chip into his mouth. ‘I was kidding, in case that wasn’t obvious.’

  All eyes were on me.

  ‘Um . . . I’ll have to check with my friends, if that’s cool,’ I said. And my mum, I thought.

  ‘Sure, no worries,’ Will said cheerily.

  They started talking about plans for the night and I was sitting there listening, trying to be as still and quiet as possible so they wouldn’t regret asking me to join them, let alone inviting me to their party, when my phone rang. I didn’t recognise the number and was planning to ignore it, but Leila turned to me and said, ‘Are you going to answer that?’ I smiled and pressed the green button.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hello, this is Janice from the Miss Teen Summer Queen pageant, I’m calling for a Maisie Martin?’

  Shit.

  ‘Um, this is her, I mean she, I mean me,’ I choked out. Shiiiiiiiiiit.

  ‘Wonderful! Maisie, we’ve received your application and we’d like to congratulate you on being accepted to compete in this year’s pageant, to take place at the Paradise Hotel on Saturday the sixth of January. The entry fee of one hundred and ninety-nine dollars is due by December thirty-first. A free sash is included in the cost!’

  ‘Um . . .’

  ‘If you have any questions or concerns, please let me know. You have my number now. We look forward to seeing you on the day!’

  ‘Okay . . .’ I said. My head was spinning.

  ‘Bye now. Have a Merry Christmas,’ Janice said in her chirpy voice, and hung up.

  I stared at the phone, frozen in horror.

  ‘Babe, are you okay?’ Leila asked.

  I slowly raised my head to look at her, my eyes wide.

  ‘Who was that? Is everything alright?’

  What have I done? What have I doooooone?

  ‘That . . . that was the pageant. They were calling to congratulate me on the acceptance of my entry.’

  Leila screamed and jumped up, grabbing my hands and pulling me up with her. I dimly registered some of the others cheering.

  ‘Oh my god, this is amazing,’ Leila was saying, bouncing up and down, still holding on to my hands. When I didn’t match her enthusiasm, she stopped and peered into my eyes. ‘This is amazing, right?’

  I just stared at her, unable to speak. I was feeling so many things at once that I felt nothing at all. My body, my brain, everything was blank.

  ‘Hey, let’s take a walk,’ Leila said after a minute of me standing there like I was playing a
one-woman game of stuck in the mud. She tucked her arm through mine and pulled me along. As we walked, my thoughts slowly spilled out of me. I told her how I couldn’t believe I’d actually been selected. That it must be some kind of joke. What were they playing at? I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stand up on stage. In an evening dress. In a bikini. I didn’t have any talent. It would be humiliating.

  Leila listened to it all, and then she said, very gently, ‘But, babe, I thought there was a part of you that really wants this?’

  I swallowed, but didn’t say anything.

  She smiled as she turned us both around and we headed back towards the others. ‘I reckon you’ll be brilliant. But it’s up to you. Just think about it, alright?’

  I shook my head. ‘There’s no way I can take part in that pageant.’

  *

  Oh god. I’m taking part in the pageant.

  You’re probably wondering what made me do this one-eighty. To be honest, I still feel really sick about it all. But this afternoon, something happened to change my mind. Guess who was here when we got back from the beach?

  Well, you don’t have to guess, since I already told you she was arriving today. Yep. It was none other than my darling big sister, Eva.

  She had her new girlfriend in tow. Her name is Bess. She seems really nice. Has a great laugh. This amazing pin-up girl style. Lots of tattoos.

  Oh, and she’s really fat.

  I’m not saying that to be mean or bitchy. It’s just a fact.

  She’s fat. Like I’m fat. We’re fat!

  You know who’s not fat?

  You know who hates fat people?

  EVA. My beautiful, darling sister. The one who – who –

  Who is the biggest effing hypocrite I have ever met in my life.

  There she was, acting as sweet as a cinnamon cronut – Oh, Maisie, it’s so good to see you, why didn’t you write back to my emails? I’m so happy you’re finally meeting Bess, I’ve been telling her all about you. Won’t this be an awesome summer? It’s a shame Dad’s not here, but it’ll be nice to have some girl time, hey?

  And there was Mum, all teary-pride, hugging and squeezing Eva like she hasn’t seen her in years (I mean, it’s only been six months), and hugging and squeezing Bess like she was a long-lost daughter too, and saying, Yes, yes now the whole family is here we can truly have a wonderful holiday.