CHAPTER 9
It’s like we can do no wrong. Every move we make is right, whether we’re dancing, walking down a corridor, sitting together at the café. If I put my hand out to hold hers without looking, she’s done the same. In class Abigail and I bring out the best in each other. She’s found emotion, tapped into some vulnerability that impresses Miss Raine. I’m almost the opposite. I’m less vulnerable. I feel like I can do anything, dance anything, and it shows. In class we’re doing a scene from Cinderella.
‘Remember this is the first time the prince has seen Cinderella. They can’t take their eyes off each other,’ says Miss Raine.
I hear her words, but I don’t know if she’s talking about the characters or Abigail and me, because we can’t take our eyes off each other either.
Miss Raine is impressed. ‘Finally you’re showing me some artistry.’
The only thing that interrupts our dancing is Tara’s phone. She’s sitting at the edge of the dance area with her crutches on the floor beside her. She missed the showcase because she dislocated her knee when she was running back from the ferry with Christian. As she can’t dance, Tara’s thrown herself into organising an end-of-year formal for us.
Miss Raine isn’t impressed with that. ‘What is it now, Tara? A crisis over napkin colours?’
‘Sorry,’ she mumbles.
As Abigail and I rehearse our pas de deux from Cinderella alone the next day, there’s a delicious agony between us. Actually for one moment there’s real agony when I touch Abigail’s face and my watch snags in her hair.
As I gently move her hair free our faces are so close. It’s not like they haven’t been close before. We’ve been doing plenty of kissing but this is even closer.
This closeness is different. It makes me nervous in an exciting way. I think it’s time.
‘You know …’ I say, sounding unsure. ‘We’ve been doing this for a while now – it could be worth discussing … ’
‘… the next level?’ she says. She can read my mind. She must be thinking the same thing.
‘We’re not ready,’ she says.
She’s not thinking the same thing.
‘Right, no.’ I try to cover my tracks. ‘I didn’t think so either.’
Back to rehearsing.
That night I feel bad. I’ve been a typical bloke. I start going out with a girl and then next thing I’m pressuring her for sex. I don’t want to be that guy. It’s not right. I totally respect Abigail. I lay in bed and part of me is actually relieved she said no. I just assumed because things were great it was the next step. It doesn’t have to be.
In Miss Raine’s class the next day I catch Abi looking at me. She’s probably wondering why I’ve turned into one of those guys all of a sudden. I lean over to her.
‘About yesterday, I feel bad it might have seemed like I was pressuring you. I don’t want you to think that, because I really respect you.’
‘Actually,’ Abigail says, ‘I’ve changed my mind. I think we are ready.’
‘You do?’ I can’t believe it.
‘Next group,’ Miss Raine calls.
It’s our turn to perform our pas de deux but this is not a conversation Abi and I can hold off for later. We continue talking as we dance, hiding our words behind our arms or when we turn so Miss Raine can’t see.
‘Sorry, stroked out there for a moment. Ready?’
‘Ready,’ she repeats. ‘But if you don’t agree we can wait.’
‘I’m a guy. I’m hard-wired to think I’m ready.’
Miss Raine sees my mouth moving.
‘It’s ballet, Samuel. Communicate through action, not words.’
Miss Raine really wouldn’t like it if I communicated what I was thinking right now through actions. I try to focus on the pas de deux instead.
‘Okay then,’ Abigail continues as she turns her face away from Miss Raine. ‘Let’s embrace the cliché of the formal. It’ll be special.’
I’m all nerves. She may be speaking in her sarcastic voice but when a girl says she wants it to be special, it needs to be Special.
My heart pounds and I almost miss my step. The pressure’s on. How do I make something I’ve never done before Special? I can forget any thought of sleep between now and the formal.
The next day Christian and I are out running. We do a circuit around the harbour foreshore, past Circular Quay, up and down the Opera House steps and then back. Somehow he always manages to stay about three paces ahead of me. From the top of the steps I’m thinking about how I might raise the subject of ‘the next level’. He’s a man of the world. He might be able to give me a few pointers.
By the time we’re approaching the Harbour Bridge again, all I can think of is a casual roundabout approach.
‘So, um you and Tara. How’s that going?’
Christian gives me a weird look. It’s a lame attempt. I try again.
‘I mean you’re close but you’re not, you know, “close”.’
‘No. We’re not.’
‘I assume …’ I have to stop running. I can’t have this talk and run at the same time. ‘I assume you’ve been, you know, close with someone in the past.’
‘Mate, I don’t talk about that kind of stuff.’
I’m not getting very far. I try to sound casual and I’m almost convincing.
‘Off the record, would you have any, I don’t know, words of wisdom if someone was thinking about getting close?’
‘Really, you and Abigail?’
‘She’s requesting “special” and I don’t know how to deliver.’
‘Okay. Advice? It’s not special when it’s rushed. Or if both of you aren’t on the same page. If it feels wrong then it probably is.’
This isn’t the sort of advice I was looking for.
‘I’m thinking more logistics – music, location. What are your thoughts on manscaping?’
I’ve pushed it too far.
‘If you borrow my razor you’re a dead man,’ he says and breaks back into the run. I follow, trying to catch up as usual.
On the night of the formal Christian and I wait at the bottom of the stairs of the boarding house for our dates. I’m regretting the manscaping. I had no idea it would make me so itchy. Then Abigail and Tara appear at the top of the stairs and I forget my tender skin. Tara looks lovely but Abigail is stunning in a soft grey strapless dress with her hair combed over to one side.
The formal up on the roof of the building is great. All Tara’s work has paid off. The lights look beautiful against the night sky – and who could ask for a better backdrop than Sydney Harbour. We dance and even in a crowd of Australia’s top dancers, it feels like we are the chosen couple, the pair everyone is admiring. I don’t want it to end but the moment comes for the two of us to leave.
I’ve filled my room with tea lights, stealing virtually every glass in the building to hold them. My hands are shaking as I fumble with matches lighting them. Suddenly it all seems pathetic. I glance round and it just looks like my normal room with a few candles.
I was obsessing so much about the music and then I went down this creepy rose petal path before I realised I was trying too hard. Now I feel like I didn’t try hard enough.
I give her an out. ‘It’s probably not what you meant by special. We should raincheck.’
She doesn’t take it. ‘It’s perfect.’
‘What made you change your mind?’ I ask suddenly. I don’t know why I’m talking. This isn’t meant to be a moment for talk.
‘I get these glimpses where I want to be about more than just dancing.’ She leans in to kiss me.
She’s so far from Abigail the ice queen that I first met, who didn’t dream of anything but dancing. I think of what she put herself through, the not eating, the hard driving determination, and feel like I’ve broken all that. She’s sitting there all beautiful, all vulnerable – waiting.
‘What made you change your mind?’ she asks me.
I don’t have an answer so I kiss her instead.
She responds. I can tell she’s ready. As we kiss on my bed I can tell this is what she wants but I hear a voice in my head. It’s Christian’s. The words I wasn’t interested in hearing before repeat softly in my mind. They become louder and louder until I can’t ignore them any more.
If it feels wrong then it probably is. If it feels wrong then it probably is.
It does feel wrong. I pull away.
‘Can we stop for a second? It doesn’t feel right. And it should. You deserve that.’
Abigail blinks, stunned. ‘No … good decision,’ she says, covering her disappointment.
I look away. I can’t bear the confusion in her face. I’m supposed to be hard-wired for this. I’m supposed to live for this moment.
But no, not me, not Sammy Lieberman. I don’t do anything normal.
CHAPTER 10
‘I thought we could do something special this afternoon. Maybe a picnic?’ Abigail asks me.
It’s a couple of weeks after the formal and we’re about to go into class. Right now a picnic is the last thing on my mind, especially one that involves the ‘special’ word. After the no-go on our ‘special’ night I hate it.
Everything is going off. The night of the formal was an even bigger disaster for Christian than for me. He and Tara broke up. He’s gone missing and didn’t even sleep in his bed last night. I’ve left a hundred texts and voicemails for him with no reply and now Patrick is onto me saying I should be looking out for him. Patrick’s right.
Now Kat’s rebelling against the cancelling of hiphop classes by starting her own classes – ‘Defence of the Hip-Hop Arts’. She thinks we’re going to take on the evil old wizards of the Board and I’ve agreed to help.
Abigail isn’t impressed that I have bigger priorities than her picnic. ‘So Kat snaps her fingers and you come running?’
‘They need me,’ I say and leave it at that.
I really don’t have time to indulge her. If Christian misses too many classes they’ll kick him out. I have to find him. When class ends I call him again. The phone answers but it’s a female voice.
‘Who’s that?’ I ask.
She asks me the same.
‘Sammy,’ I say. ‘Is Christian there?’
The girl doesn’t answer.
‘Listen, whoever you are, I need to speak to him. It’s urgent, he’s in trouble.’
Still silence on the end of the phone.
‘If you have his phone you’re either a friend or a thief. If you’re a friend you’ll tell me where I can find him.’
There’s another pause and then I find out it is a friend – a good one as it turns out. She’s called Kaylah and she used to hang out with Christian before he came to the Academy. She was Aaron’s girlfriend - the guy that robbed the servo with Christian. She tells me they’re down at the Maroubra skateboard park.
I have to get there as fast as I can. I know it’s Kat’s Defence of the Hip-Hop Arts class, but Christian needs me. When I get there, Kaylah spots me straightaway – probably because I’m the only person there that looks like he’s never set foot on a skateboard in his life.
Christian’s pushing his board like there’s no tomorrow. Even on wheels he’s got a rhythm the others don’t have. He’s loving it. I was expecting to find him cut up but right now he’s with his old boarding helmet on, thrashing the half-pipe, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He makes it look so easy, I feel I could do it. Almost.
‘You said he’s in trouble,’ Kaylah says.
‘He’s been skipping class. They’re worked up about it at the Academy.’
‘That’s it?’ she says.
‘They’ll kick him out. I love Tara to bits but she’s not worth that.’
Kaylah looks at me as if I’m a complete idiot. ‘You think this is all about a girl?’
‘It was a pretty intense break-up.’
She starts laughing. ‘You so don’t get it.’
‘Get what?’ I ask.
‘Aaron’s disappeared. Gone north. And it’s the court case next week. Without Aaron there to say he planned the robbery and brought the knife …’
‘But it wasn’t Christian who set it up. With a good report from the Academy they won’t send him to prison.’
‘Try telling him that.’ Kaylah folds her arms.
When Christian sees me he comes over. ‘Am I going to get a lecture?’ he asks with a big grin.
I’ve never seen him so upbeat.
‘What? No …’ I’m lying. The lecture will come later. I don’t want to spoil his mood. ‘But you could have said what was going on.’
‘You want a go?’ he offers the board to me, ignoring the fact that Kaylah’s obviously told me everything.
‘Think I’ll pass.’
‘Your loss,’ and he’s off again.
He finally breaks off for some food and the three of us go for burgers, which Christian swears are the best in Sydney. He’s bought six, as if he’ll never get to have one again.
‘Next weekend I’ll be eating gruel and wearing prison overalls,’ he says.
Kaylah gets annoyed. ‘Will you stop it?’
‘Yeah,’ I agree with her. ‘They don’t send you to prison for shoplifting.’
‘We had a knife, it’s a whole different ball game.’
‘My aunt’s a barrister. I can talk to her, get some advice.’
‘I’m sick of advice.’ Christian’s not listening to anyone. ‘I’ve done everything they asked me and for what? I’ve got one week left of freedom and I’m going to enjoy myself.’
‘You’re an idiot.’ Kaylah walks off. She can’t believe he’s throwing everything he’s got away because Aaron let him down.
I can’t leave Christian like this. Somehow, someone has to talk sense into him. It will have to be me.
Christian is sprinting through his ‘Ten things to do before I go to juvie’ list and dragging me along for the ride.
He brings me to the top of some rocks high above the sea. It has to be at least ten metres down, but every time I look it seems further. He can’t be serious.
‘Aaron and I used to do it all the time. Trust me, it looks worse than it is.’
‘Why are we doing this again?’
‘Cos life is short, Sammy.’
Without a second thought he jumps off. It’s the life’s short bit that worries me. Life could be about three seconds short if we hit the rocks. Christian hits the water fine. If this is what it takes, then I guess I’ll have to do it. I take my T-shirt off and jump.
My heart stops but then I hit the water, alive. More than just alive. It was brilliant. I want to climb out and do it again, but swimming at the rocks really would be stupid.
Instead we swim round to the beach, run out and throw ourselves on the sand.
‘That was awesome!’
‘I told you,’ he grins.
‘You were right,’ I say.
He looks so happy, with water dripping off his face.
‘But you’re wrong about the court hearing. You’re running away.’
‘What else am I supposed to do?’
‘Gee, I don’t know. Get some legal advice. Keep going to class so you get a reference from the Academy?’
‘But I did it. I was at the servo. We totally did that guy over.’
‘You going to do it again?’
His hurt and angry look answers me.
‘Exactly. So why are we lying around here? They need to know that.’
Christian looks at me. Really looks at me. I think I’ve finally gotten through.
‘You’re like a forty-year-old man trapped in a geeky sixteen-year-old body, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, I think I am.’
For all the trouble Christian’s facing, it’s been an awesome afternoon.
Me and my mate hanging out, debating burgers, jumping off rocks, enjoying each other’s company.
When we get back to our room in the boarding house, Abigail’s sitting on my bed with a picnic basket and a major
scowl. Christian bails out immediately.
‘We had a date,’ Abigail says.
‘I forgot. I’m so sorry. Christian’s got some really messed-up stuff going on. I can’t tell you what it is but it’s serious.’
‘Tell me one thing. At any point this afternoon did you remember you were supposed to be with me?’
Her words sting because she’s right. I feel terrible, I didn’t think about her once. I’ve been avoiding her since the formal. I haven’t admitted it to her, or even to myself, but there’s no avoiding it now. How can I spend a whole afternoon not thinking about the girl I’m meant to be in love with?
‘It’s not working, Sammy, and I don’t know how to fix it.’
‘I know. Me either.’
‘Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this any more?’
‘Maybe we shouldn’t.’ I say it before I can even think about it. ‘I mean if that’s what you want.’
‘Yeah, it’s what I want,’ she says. It’s not what she wants but she’s not going to let me see that. She’s pulling back. The ice queen that I worked so hard to melt is freezing over again. I can’t believe I’m the one that’s triggering her defence mechanism.
If anyone had told me a week ago, a day ago or even ten minutes ago that we would be breaking up I’d have thought they were mad. But that’s what’s happening. After everything we’ve been through – my relentless campaign, her stubborn resistance and those amazing weeks when we felt so close that touching was almost too intense – we’re here sitting miles apart on the edge of my bed with an unused picnic basket between us.
It’s over.
For the next week I’m determined to help Christian get to his court case and keep out of juvenile detention.
It’s not an easy task. His mate, Aaron, turns up. At first this seems like good news but he persuades Christian to change his statement, to say that it was Christian’s idea to take the knife. Aaron reckons the good kid doing well at the Dance Academy will get away with it. He won’t, but Christian goes along with the plan because he thinks it’s the sort of thing mates do for each other.
Sammy Page 5