by Kate McMahon
‘Right, you. One more word and we’ll stick you on a bus straight back to Bonita Shores tonight. It’s time you started worrying about your own life. Quit hassling Jaspa about hers.’ Anthony’s disciplinary button isn’t pushed easily – you know you’re in trouble when his voice rises above 80 decibels.
Tyler fumbles around, noisily stuffing things into his backpack. ‘Well, looks like she’s a loser, too. I’m outta here.’ He kicks his feet into his thongs and storms off.
Anthony squeezes Ellen around the shoulder and kisses her temple. ‘It’s not over yet,’ he mumbles to himself. ‘C’mon, Jaspa, you’ve got this.’
It all happens in less time than it takes to unzip a wetsuit. Jaspa is left looking down the line, stunned, watching Lisa tear apart the wave Jaspa should’ve been on. She glances over her shoulder to see Mel glaring at her.
‘Jaspa, what the frick were you thinking?’ Mel fumes, clenching her teeth and skimming the ocean with a closed fist. ‘This is no time to play the nicey-pie samaritan!’
Jaspa stares at Mel like a naughty puppy caught doing the wrong thing. ‘I’ve still got five minutes, I can do this, I promise.’ She subtly shakes her head at herself, closes her eyes and looks away from her best friend. Jaspa’s pretty sure she’s blown it. Why does her heart always pull rank over her head, especially today of all days?
Two minutes pass and the ocean is flattened by the biggest lull they’ve seen all final. No one is catching any waves, meaning the positions remain the same. Three big droplets pound onto the deck of Jaspa’s surfboard. She looks up and is surprised to see a thick blanket of rain. Pellets of water start pelting against her face, and a storm cloud hovers over them like a lump of charcoal. The sudden darkness makes it difficult to decipher any movement in the ocean, and the loudness of the downpour slapping against the sea makes it impossible to know if the score for Lisa’s ride has been announced yet.
Jaspa holds her watch a few centimetres from her face and notes that there are forty seconds remaining. She swallows back a gulp of tears as she realises she won’t be joining her two best friends on the World Junior Tour next year.
As she anticipates the siren that will mark the end of the heat and braces herself for the questions she’ll have to answer, she catches a glimpse of Mel paddling furiously to the outside of her, screaming, ‘Go, just GO!’
A bit of swell bumps up underneath Jaspa, so she quickly strokes into position and takes the drop. The wave doesn’t have the potential to be a heat winner; surely Mel knows that? But Jaspa figures at least she can have fun, go ballistic and surf it the best she ever has. She mightn’t have made the tour, but no one can take surfing away from her.
Soaring into a turn at the base of the wave, before Jaspa even has the chance to transition her board, she sees Mel do the absolute unthinkable.
Five metres in front, Mel drops in on Jaspa, the worst sin you can commit in the competition. Right at that moment the rain lightens, and a stunned silence embraces the crowd as they see what’s unfolding before them. It feels like the world has stopped around her as Jaspa stands, lifeless, like a mannequin glued to her surfboard, staring at Mel in disbelief. The wave shuts down and both surfers lie on their boards to ride the whitewater towards shore as the horn blasts and the red flag is raised. The final is over.
‘Are you crazy? Mel, why did you just do that?’ Jaspa cries as they glide within shouting distance. ‘I do not want to be responsible for blowing your chances.’
‘Well, you left me no friggin’ choice did you? I was your only hope. I had a decision to make and I made it, so shut the hell up. I’m sick of your whining.’ Mel uses her hand as a rudder to guide herself away.
A bump of backwash travels towards Jaspa. She lifts the nose of her board to hop over it, leans her elbow onto the deck and rests her forehead in her hand as she tries desperately to do the maths. Clearly, Mel used an interference so she’d be penalised her highest scoring ride, surrendering first place to Jaspa. But that means Pepita will move into second place. So where does that leave Mel? She needs to come third to qualify, but they’re yet to hear the score of Lisa’s ride. The very one Jaspa gave away to her. Oh no, no, no, this can’t be happening.
Jaspa squeezes her thumb and forefinger deep into her temples. She’s come around to the idea of being on the tour, but not without her best friend, and certainly not at the expense of her best friend’s dream. The weight of worry bears down on her like a river of concrete. Sliding off her board, fatigued and helpless, she wades in the shallows, her legs wobbling. Mel’s icy stare pierces Jaspa’s heart and she wrestles with the notion of her best friend, who loves her so much, hating on her. She ignores her board flipping about in the shore break, the leg-rope still attached to her ankle, unable to muster the energy to unleash it. If Mel doesn’t make it through, she’ll never forgive herself. And she knows Mel won’t, either. Jaspa’s face screws up and her shoulders convulse as the sobs shoot out of her like cannonballs.
The commentary team builds the suspense, keeping everyone on standby as they wait for the official scores, notably Lisa’s. Meanwhile, the men’s final has been running for five minutes, but the drama of the women’s showdown is capturing everyone’s attention.
‘Alright, here we have it.’ The speakers silence the crowd.
Jaspa looks through watery eyes over at Mel, who stands dead still, her head hanging low.
‘Lisa Campbell fourth on 8.1, Melissa Appleby third on 8.3, Pepita Mapstone second on 15.4 and Jaspa Ryder, congratulations, you are the Wiloonga Junior champion on 16.5.’
Jaspa runs through the rain to Mel, who collapses into a squat and drops her head, crying into her folded arms.
‘Mel, we did it. We’re through,’ Jaspa weeps. She knows Mel is going to be crazy angry, but the end result is perfect, and isn’t that the main thing? ‘I’m so sorry for what I did back there. You know I often do dumb stuff that makes no sense … I’m just really, really sorry,’ Jaspa wails over the strengthening downpour.
Anger rises from Mel like a pitching wave. She stands and wipes her nose on her forearm. ‘Jazz, you can’t do that crap anymore, ya hear? This is serious. I can’t … I won’t look out for you like that when we’re on tour,’ she screams, making Jaspa flinch.
Jaspa buries her face in her hands. ‘I know that, Mel,’ she mumbles. ‘I just felt sorry for Lisa and made a stupid decision.’ She so badly wants to wrap her arms around Mel, to remind her that their friendship is what matters, but she’d feel less scared doing that to a great white shark at this moment.
An expression of annoyance creeps over Mel’s face. ‘Dammit. Lisa is a big girl, she can look after herself. Do you think she would’ve done the same for you? Do you? DO YOU?’ She shoves Jaspa so hard she falls back onto the sand.
‘Ow!’ Jaspa winces. She looks up at Mel through blurry eyes, her bottom lip quivering, unable to speak. As her chest heaves with sobs, Jaspa wonders: is this what it’s like to be a professional surfer?
Their families run across the sand through the driving rain, soaking wet and echoing a symphony of hoots and whistles, oblivious to the building tension between the girls. Their dads hoist them onto their shoulders and carry them into the well-wishing crowd surrounding the podium. No one notices that the two best friends are refusing to even make eye contact.
Jaspa climbs the stairs to the stage behind Mel, who stands in third place next to Pepita. As an official ushers Jaspa to the opposite side, she looks down to see Carolyn in the front row giving her a shaka sign. She grins and wriggles her fingers hello, wondering if Carolyn’s even aware of the soap opera moments that just filled the final. Probably. Anyone close to Mel knows she never takes the easy route. Drama follows her around like that friend your parents warn you about but who you can’t agree to let go of, because they’re so exciting.
The countdown to the end of the boys’ final can be heard, and Cooper is announced victorious on 16.5; the exact same score Jaspa secured her win with. Eva Hurst steps
to the front of the stage carrying a microphone, wearing a spearmint hooded jersey dress and white Dunlop Volleys. She was a pro surfer on the main world tour, but after not qualifying for the last few years she’s instead taken up TV presenting on Wired, a new TV channel solely dedicated to action sports.
Eva rambles off thanks to the long list of sponsors, and starts the congratulatory ceremony from fourth place, but Lisa isn’t there. Rumour has it she split immediately after the final and started hitching back to Jan Juc.
Jaspa watches Mel collect her prize, but quickly drops her gaze when she swings around to get back in line. Right now, Jaspa wishes she could leap off this stage and run as far as her legs will carry her. The last thing she wants to do is give a speech and act all happy, considering what she’s lost to get here. She glances up to silent stares from the crowd below and sees Eva waving her over with a laugh.
‘Oops, sorry, I didn’t hear you,’ Jaspa whispers as she stands next to Eva and accepts her first-place trophy; a quirky surfer doll made from scraps of metal. Eva informs the crowd that Jaspa has also won a family holiday to Uluwatu Luxury Surf Villas in Bali, a Nikon waterproof camera, a $500 SurfStuff.com voucher and an Ocean Organics skincare basket. With a forced smile, Jaspa takes the microphone. What’s she going to say? Oh, thanks for these amazing prizes, but I don’t deserve them. Instead she figures she may as well use this opportunity to try and make amends.
Bringing the microphone to her lips, she looks over the mass of heads to focus on the ocean, willing her voice not to crack. ‘Umm, hi. Um … I’d like to thank the contest organisers, Mum and Dad and Carolyn for their support, Aqua Adore for my free swimmers, and my best friend, Mel, for pushing me to be the best I can be – if it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t be here today.’ She pauses to take in the rows of faces beaming up at her, searching for one person in particular. ‘Lastly, I want to dedicate this win to my incredibly talented brother, Tyler Ryder.’
Who’s nowhere to be seen.
#21
‘Yo,’ Carolyn demands with a clap of her hands, ‘let’s do this.’
Jaspa nods nervously, then links arms with Carolyn to walk up Whaler Road. Mel took the piece of paper, so they don’t know the exact address, but it’s not difficult to guess where the party’s at. A deep bass beat thumps beneath their feet, and squeals and laughter can be heard a few houses away. Jaspa is taking ridiculously small baby steps, suddenly overwhelmed by a big dose of the jitters.
‘It’s gonna be fine, stop stressing,’ Carolyn reassures her, lengthening her stride and pulling at Jaspa’s locked elbow.
Jaspa contorts her mouth to one side into a grimace. She could definitely think of more enjoyable things to do than walking into a party where at least three of the people there are annoyed with her. ‘Does Mel even know I’m coming?’ she asks. Until now, Jaspa has avoided talking to Carolyn about the beach spat because she doesn’t want to drag her off the fence and into the middle of it.
‘Yep. And I’m sure she woulda come in with us –’ Carolyn pauses, grappling for an excuse. ‘But, you know, her place is in the opposite direction, so it was just easier for her to meet us there.’
‘Uh huh, right.’ That would be a fair assumption if they weren’t talking about Mel – it takes a crowbar to release the grudges she holds. Jaspa stares at the driveway, knowing the best way is to make it quick, like ripping off a Band-Aid, rather than hovering uncomfortably at the entrance.
A skateboard ramp has been erected in the front yard, and a bunch of girls and guys, mostly dressed in black, are taking turns to outdo each other’s tricks.
The back of the house is furnished with old couches and beanbags. A DJ up in the Rocket Fuel booth spins records, not paying much attention to the spread of girls loitering around, though it’s clear they’re not there for a song request. At a guess, there’s at least fifty people scattered around, and the sun hasn’t even set yet. This party is going to pump!
Jaspa and Carolyn scout around for a good position; somewhere with maximum people-watching potential. Jaspa’s main requirement is that they’re well away from Tyler, who’s slumped in a corner and has apparently been drowning his self-pity here since this afternoon. The friendly waitress from the cafe is straddled across him, using all her tricks to help him forget about his woes.
Just as they make a beeline for the empty sofa by the back fence, a voice pops up behind them. ‘Hey, glad you made it.’
Jaspa swings around to see Kazumi Hall grinning at them. He cups his hands and shouts across the yard, ‘Hey Mel! Your friends are here.’
Mel looks up, expressionless, pausing for a moment, then bounds her way over.
Jaspa glances at Carolyn, puzzled by Mel’s enthusiasm.
‘So, hot-shot, congrats, I hear you were a winner today,’ Kazumi says to Jaspa innocently, unaware he could be dousing her with gasoline.
‘Oh, umm, yes, thanks, thank you,’ she says quickly as Mel approaches.
Mel launches herself between Jaspa and Carolyn and locks her arms around them. ‘My chicks! I’m so glad you’re here, I’ve missed you!’ She smothers them with exaggerated kisses over their cheeks while Kazumi watches on, oblivious to the Oscar-worthy performance that’s unfolding before him.
Jaspa stiffens suspiciously. ‘I’ve … missed you too, Mel,’ she draws out slowly. Surely Mel’s not going to let her off that easily? She once gave Jaspa the silent treatment for days over not wanting to watch the same movie as her.
Mel leans in close to Jaspa. ‘I’m still mad. We’ll discuss later,’ she whispers, then breaks away and sidles up next to Kazumi.
A little trickle of dread climbs up from Jaspa’s stomach into her chest. Can’t they just hug it out now, sincerely, and then move on and not look back? Mel almost thrives on drawing out conflict – Jaspa doesn’t understand why. But she knows they’ll still be best friends, so she may as well just enjoy the party.
Kazumi drapes his arm around Mel’s shoulder, his fingertips nestling on the base of her neck. He draws her in close so the top of her head is pressed against his lips and whispers into her hair, ‘Let’s go for a walk, beautiful.’
She smiles and turns to meet his eyes, nodding. ‘Yes please,’ she says huskily.
‘We’re, umm, going to hang,’ Mel says, glancing back over her shoulder and giving them a look that says, I’m about to gather some serious gossip fodder, girls, so stay tuned!
Jaspa watches Mel walk off and notices metaphorical daggers flying towards her from every other female in viewing distance.
‘She’s nothin’ but trouble, that girl,’ Carolyn teases as they head for the sofa.
‘Yep, and that’s why we love her,’ Jaspa chimes as they sit down to enjoy an unobstructed view of the shenanigans. Lochlan Jacobs, who is in their year at school, is throwing up in a garbage bin as his friends film him on their phones. The guys who heckled them on the beach yesterday take turns back-flipping off the fence. The Rocket Fuel promo girls prance around handing out free drinks, their shorts riding up so far they may cause permanent erosion.
‘Look at those boobs – man, they’d make perfect tray tables,’ laughs Carolyn.
Jaspa giggles at the promo girls sticking their chests out, wearing very low-cut tank tops and very high bras. ‘I dare you to test them out – go and put a drink on them,’ Jaspa says in hysterics.
‘Well, I double D dare you!’ Carolyn cracks up, before her expression changes and she nudges Jaspa with her elbow. ‘Hey, Cooper’s over there. What happened between you two anyway?’
Just like in the movies, everything around Jaspa seems to stop as her gaze pans around the room, zooming in on Cooper, who’s leaning on the kitchen bench chatting to a couple of girls – thankfully without much interest, it seems.
‘Dude, hello, what happened?’ Carolyn repeats, knocking Jaspa’s knee with hers.
‘Oh, sorry. Well, did you see when I went to talk to him on the beach after my heat?’
Carolyn frowns and cocks her he
ad. ‘No, what happened?’
‘Well, I was planning to do what you suggested and maybe let him know I like him, but he totally brushed me.’ After finally talking about it, Jaspa notices the pain is a little less now. More like a butter knife in the heart than a dagger.
‘Serious? Are you sure? Maybe he was just psyched to surf,’ Carolyn suggests with a shrug.
Jaspa shakes her head and stares towards him. ‘Nup, he snapped at me and made me feel about this big.’ She holds her thumb and forefinger an inch apart. ‘I thought he was different to most guys. The stupid thing is, I think I still really like him.’
Cooper meets Jaspa’s gaze across the yard, and her cheeks flush the same shade as her pink dress.
‘Urgh, this is torture,’ Cooper mumbles to himself. His train of thought is derailed as a gorgeous brunette saunters up to him. She boldly slings her arms around his neck and murmurs, ‘Congratulations, surfer guy,’ into his ear, allowing her lips to brush against his lobe. Leaning her hips into his body she finds the contour of his mouth with hers, guiding him into a deep kiss. He pulls her closer towards him, circling his tongue lightly around hers.
Jaspa’s jaw drops in disbelief. ‘What an absolute rat,’ she says, picking up her cup and swigging down her drink without taking a breath. Carolyn grabs Jaspa’s arm and pulls her up off the couch.
‘C’mon, let’s go and look for some fun to get into.’
‘That’s a fabulous idea. I am so over wallowing.’
They walk across the makeshift dance floor, where a few guys are having a hip-hop battle. Carolyn drop-knees to the ground without warning and busts out the six-step, followed by a baby freeze. The guys pulse on the spot and hand jive to egg her on. She flips her palms backwards either side of her head and pushes to spring up onto her feet, then flicks her fingers at the B-boys and saunters away. Jaspa catches up to her and grabs her shoulders, laughing. They’re headed for the skate ramp at the front of the house when a hand catches Jaspa’s wrist.