‘I guess,’ I lied.
‘What was that about?’ Anna asked.
I looked around, searching for an answer that I didn’t really have yet. Everyone was looking at me intently, except for Beamer. He’d turned away and was leaning against the railing of Jo’s verandah, looking out towards the ocean.
‘I dunno,’ I said. ‘That was awful.’
‘I thought it was great, Maise! You spoke really well,’ Anna said.
I winced. As though he sensed my discomfort, Sebastian tapped Beamer on the shoulder and gestured with his head towards the steps leading away from Jo’s house. Beamer silently followed him, shooting me a tight smile as he left.
That was the moment I burst into tears. Leila squeezed me tighter.
‘What’s wrong?’ Anna said.
‘They don’t want me. Nobody wants me,’ I said with a sob.
‘Of course they do! That’s what that whole video was about! You’re making history!’
I shook my head, my throat burning with the emotion I was trying to get under control. She didn’t understand. I didn’t want to make history. I just wanted to be like everyone else.
All my life, I’ve been different. I just wanted to fit in. In so many ways, I just wanted to fit. But I never could. And no one would ever let me forget it.
‘Fuck ’em!’ Leila was saying. ‘Who needs them and their ridiculous beauty standards? Fuck. Them.’
‘You’ve been hanging around me too long,’ Jo said from the doorway. She stepped in front of me, leaning against the railing. ‘You okay?’
I nodded, not really okay, but beginning to feel somewhat cried out.
Jo smiled. ‘Forget about the lot of them. Let’s go have some fun.’
*
We agreed to meet up at the carnival in an hour or so. We needed to get glam, which for me meant applying at least five hundred layers of make-up before I was ready to face the world. To be honest, all I really wanted to do was curl up in a ball in bed and never get up again, but the girls convinced me I’d feel better if I got out and distracted myself, and I knew they were right.
When Anna and I walked into the cabin, Mum was hunched over her phone. Laura was on the lounge next to her, saying something that she quickly cut off as soon as we walked in. Without a word, Mum got up and squeezed me tight, holding on to my arms as she pulled away and looked into my face with concern on her own.
‘Missy-May, don’t you worry about those comments. Don’t you listen to any of them. A bunch of no-life loser trolls, that’s what they are. You have every right to be in that pageant, and you know what? You’re going to win it. You’re beautiful, Maisie. Beautiful, do you hear me?’ By this stage, she was squeezing my arms a little too tight.
‘Comments?’ I squeaked out.
‘Seb and Beamer were just here – they mentioned you were upset,’ Laura said, a look of sympathy on her face.
‘But what comments are you talking about?’ I could feel the panic rising again as suspicion grew in me. Surely it couldn’t get worse.
Ha. Of course it could.
I got out my phone and found the video on Facebook. Sure enough, there were already dozens of comments on it. There were some positive ones, but plenty that weren’t.
Fat dog.
What’s her talent, eating 20 burgers in one sitting?
Gross. No one wants to see that.
I couldn’t read on. Literally, because tears were blurring my sight. Turns out I wasn’t all cried out. Not by a long shot. For the first time in years, I collapsed into my mum’s arms and sobbed my shattered heart out.
‘It’s not too late to cancel your entry,’ Mum said after a while. ‘This was exactly what I was worried about when you said you wanted to enter. I knew it would just upset you. If you’d only –’
I pulled away, shaking my head. I didn’t want to hear the rest. I didn’t want to think about it anymore.
‘Anna and I are going to the carnival,’ I said.
Mum raised her eyebrows at the abrupt subject change. She opened her mouth to say something but hesitated. Finally, she said, ‘I think that’s a great idea. Have some fun.’ She looked over at Laura. ‘We might see you there, hmmm? We were just about to head down with the twins.’
‘Yeah, maybe,’ I said. I sure hope not, I thought. I wanted a parent-free, worry-free, just all-round-free night.
Which goes to show you how truly foolish I am.
*
I was finishing my eyebrows when I noticed it. I’d stepped back from the mirror to check my handiwork and its reflection caught my eye. A slip of paper, half tucked under my pillow.
It looked like it had been torn from a notebook. It was folded in half, and my name was scrawled on one side in messy boy handwriting. I opened it up. And . . . whoa.
I was glad Anna was in the shower at that moment. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d opened it while she was there.
Then again, it might have saved me from doing the most terrible thing I’ve ever done. EVER.
But I’ll get to that.
There, in more of that messy writing – writing that hadn’t much improved since I’d secretly read it all those years ago – was a poem. A poem . . . for me?
A poem about me. About my body. About how beautiful my body was.
Sebastian Lee . . . had written me a poem.
For the first time since that morning, the knot in my stomach began to unravel and butterflies took up residence in its place. I was tearing up again, but this time, mixed in with the shame and self-hatred, there were feelings of gratitude and hope and, well, a lot of confusion.
At the bottom of the paper was the message: Meet me in front of the main stage of the carnival at 5.
It was four forty-five.
‘Maise, you know, I’m not feeling too great, maybe I should stay in,’ Anna was saying as she walked in wearing a towel, her hair hanging damp around her shoulders.
Anna, who was my best friend.
Anna, who was with Sebastian.
Sebastian, the boy I’d been in love with for years.
Sebastian, the boy who’d just written me a poem and made me feel light when I was in a really dark place.
Unable to stop myself, I mumbled, ‘Um, I just remembered I have to give Leila something, I’ll be back in fifteen.’ I rushed out the door.
The carnival was a ten-minute walk from the cabin. I made it there in six.
As I pushed my way through the crowd – mostly families with little kids at this hour – I saw him, standing in front of the main stage.
He was actually there.
Our eyes locked and he smiled. I closed the distance between us, my heart threatening to thud its way right out of my chest.
‘You got it then,’ Sebastian said, more of a statement than a question.
‘Yeah,’ I said, holding up the note. I was panting because I’d run half the way and also because I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to breathe properly again.
‘This should be interesting.’ He pulled out his phone and typed something. Then he looked up at me and said, ‘How are you, Maise?’
‘Okay.’ Pant. ‘Better now.’
He smiled. ‘Listen, you’re gorgeous . . . you know that, right? Don’t let a bunch of dickheads on the internet – or anyone else – let you believe otherwise. I swear, if those trolls were standing in front of me right now – well, they wouldn’t be standing for long.’
It was something about the way he said ‘dickhead’ that did it. All those years of yearning, all those pent-up feelings, coursed through my body like a tidal wave. Starting low and spreading through every limb before finally bursting through my lips. Unleashed by a poem and a ‘dickhead’.
I stepped forward, grabbed his face and mashed it against mine in a kiss.
A kiss.
I was kissing Sebastian Lee.
I was kissing Sebastian Lee.
Sebastian Lee . . . was not kissing me.
His hands were on my s
houlders, pushing me back. I opened my eyes and saw confusion and embarrassment and . . . pity? . . . in his.
‘Maisie –’
Whatever he was about to say was cut off by the speaker we were standing near suddenly blaring to life. The opening chords of ‘(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life’ from Dirty Dancing caught my attention and I looked up. A figure all in black had appeared on stage.
Was that . . . Beamer?
It was Beamer.
And he was dancing.
Dancing.
He had a look of concentration on his face, and he was totally offbeat, but he was dancing. When he reached the front of the stage, he paused and bent forward, crooking his finger at me.
‘Nobody puts Maisie in the corner,’ he called out.
Oh. Oh my god. Oh my shitting fucking god.
I felt cold all over. On stage, Beamer straightened, but he was still smiling. Vaguely I registered people around us stopping to see what was going on.
‘Come on, Maisie Martin, you’re not gonna leave me hanging here, are you?’ Beamer said.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I don’t think I was even breathing.
The song played on.
And Beamer’s smile slowly dropped, giving way to confusion. I watched as his gaze moved from me to Sebastian, still standing close to me, still resting one of his hands on my shoulder. Sebastian seemed to register this at the same time as me, because he pulled away. He stepped towards the stage and spoke quietly. I couldn’t hear what he said, but it made Beamer’s eyes flick back to me. And I saw something in them then that I’d never seen there before.
Hurt. He was hurt. And I was humiliated.
In that moment, I did the only thing I could think to do.
I turned and ran.
*
Oh boy, did I run. Literally, I ran back to the cabin. Metaphorically, I ran wee wee wee all the way home (in the passenger seat of my mum’s car).
Oh yeah. You thought that was the worst of it, that whole humiliating litany of seriously bad, no-good, embarrassing events? Ha! Surely you know me better than that by now, DJ.
I stole Mum’s car.
Well. Does it count as stealing if you have the keys? What about if you’re not driving?
I think it probably does.
Mum definitely thinks it does. She’s furious.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
When I got back to the cabin, Mum and Laura were nowhere to be seen, but Anna was in the bedroom, dressed and shoving something into her backpack.
She looked up guiltily when I entered. I found out why later. In that moment, I barely even registered what she was doing. I was too caught up in my own emotions. My own mixed-up, overwhelming emotions. I didn’t know what I was feeling.
Everything. Nothing.
One thing: I had to get out of there. I wanted to disappear. I needed to go home.
‘What’s wrong?’ Anna asked, her brow furrowing.
How could I tell Anna what had just happened? She’d hate me, like Sebastian probably did. Like Beamer definitely did.
‘I want to go home,’ I said. ‘I’ve had enough.’
She contemplated me for a moment. I was crying, like really ugly-crying, all snotty and slobbery and gross.
‘So let’s go,’ Anna said.
I nearly choked. ‘What?’
‘Let’s get out of here. Everyone’s out for the night. They probably won’t even notice that we’re gone until tomorrow. By that stage, you’ll be safely at home with your dad. What are they going to do?’
The plan was appealing. ‘But how?’
‘We can borrow your mum’s car. I’ve got my P’s, I can drive.’
‘But how will she –’
‘Come on, Maise. Let’s do it. Or would you rather be stuck here for another week?’
I should have been suspicious. I should have questioned her motives. But right then I was too focused on trying to hide mine. I needed to escape. It was too tempting to resist.
And that’s how I ended up spending New Year’s Eve in a stolen car, with my best friend in the driver’s seat, and all my worries receding behind me.
Except that’s not really true, is it? About leaving my worries behind. Because the thing about worries is, they’re in your head, and they tend to follow you around wherever you go, like a vicious little puppy that won’t stop biting at your ankles (only far less cute).
Still, at least I wouldn’t have to face everyone and relive the mortification of the past few days over and over again. At least I could pretend.
Oh, who am I kidding? I only made things worse.
DJ, I really fucked up.
Tuesday, 2 January
2 things I discovered today
1. The Rock has starred in way too many freaking action movies.
Source: I tried to find a decent one on Netflix that DIDN’T star him and it was basically impossible. I ended up skipping the genre altogether and going on a horror binge. I probably won’t sleep tonight . . . not that I would have anyway.
2. I’ve updated my list of things I like about myself.
Source: See below.
*
Hey, DJ, here’s a list of things I like about myself:
Wednesday, 3 January
1 thing I discovered today
1. I don’t know if things will ever be the same between me and Anna again. I don’t know that I want them to be, either.
Source: Anna came around today and we had a big, long talk. It helped. But everything is still weird.
*
If you’re feeling like you’re missing something right about now, DJ, it might be because you are. It was all getting to be too much the other day, so I kind of skipped over the bit about me and Anna. You know, the post-stealing my mum’s car bit.
The bit where we were stuck in a car for eight hours together.
The bit where everything came out.
We were about four hours into our little adventure when I started to have major second thoughts. The visions of the video, and the trolls, and the look on Sebastian’s face . . . and the look on Beamer’s face . . . and everything else were slowly being replaced with the inevitable sight of my mum absolutely blowing her top when she discovered us – and her car – gone.
Until that point, it had been kind of fun. Exhilarating. We blasted angry music and screamed and laughed. We stopped for snacks and dirty servo coffee. We didn’t talk much, but it felt like for once I might actually be in a movie. It was freeing.
Still, something had been gnawing at me. I think it was guilt. And fear. Not to mention a healthy dose of regret – not just for what I’d done that day, but for what I was currently doing. And it built and built and built until –
‘We have to turn back,’ I said.
Anna glanced at me but didn’t respond.
‘Anna! Come on. We’ve had our fun. Now we have to go back.’
‘Are you serious? We’re nearly home!’
‘We’re still hours away. Let’s go back. It’s not too late. Like you said, no one will have even noticed we’re missing.’ I’d messaged Leila and said I couldn’t go to the carnival because I was feeling too shit, and she’d replied saying she hoped I was okay and she’d see me tomorrow (that was one of the things that had been gnawing at me). I knew Anna had messaged Sebastian to say we were staying in. I hadn’t told her yet that he probably would have understood our absence even if she hadn’t said a thing.
‘Anna?’
She kept her eyes on the road.
‘Anna?’
‘We’re not going back, Maisie. Now is not the time to grow some balls.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘This is your MO, right? You run away and hide. From everything.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Remember that time in Year 8 when Pete O’Grady wanted to ask you out, and you went and hid in the toilets? I had to come and physically drag you out. Because a boy liked
you!’
‘He didn’t like me. He liked you,’ I mumbled.
‘He was asking you out!’
‘To get closer to you!’
She shot her eyes my way. There was real anger in them now. It singed me.
‘What about when we were supposed to do that group presentation in Year 10 English, but you totally bailed at the last minute?’
‘I was sick.’ I had been sick. With fear about standing in front of everyone. I thought she understood that.
‘Or how about two weeks ago, when you went MIA for a whole day, even though you brought me along on this goddamn holiday and I had to hang out with your family and friends all by myself? And now, the one time I’m actually on board with you running and hiding, you want to chicken out.’
I narrowed my eyes. ‘Why are you so desperate to get home, anyway?’
She kept her mouth shut at that, staring straight ahead again.
‘Anna?’
She sighed. ‘Look. Dan’s been messaging me. He feels really bad about everything and he wants to get back together. He’s at this New Year’s party tonight, and I was kinda hoping to get to him by midnight . . . you know, be all romantic.’ A shadow of a smile passed over her face.
Something had been building in my chest as she spoke. Something tight and hard. Something a lot like rage.
‘Dan?’ I said, very quietly.
She glanced at me. ‘Yeah.’
‘Dan. The Dickhead?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Grow up, Maisie.’
The rage exploded.
‘Are you serious, Anna? Are you fucking serious?’
‘What?!’
‘What about all the shit he pulled on you?’
‘He’s changed.’
‘He cheated on you!’
‘He regrets it.’
I took a deep breath, trying to get a handle on my fury.
‘What about Sebastian?’ I said with only a slight quiver in my voice.
She shrugged. ‘It was just a summer hook-up. Nothing serious.’
I was shaking. Just a summer hook-up?!
The words spilled out of me before I could stop them. ‘Oh. I guess you won’t mind that I kissed him, then.’
Now she was shocked. ‘You what? When? How?’
‘Just before we left,’ I said. ‘When I went out. I was meeting him.’
What I Like About Me Page 13