by J. C. Burke
That must've been what happened. Ace went back to the house before us. She must've stepped on it. It's not like she would've gone looking for it. Was it?
I was trying really, really hard to keep it together. But this felt as bad as I'd always imagined it would. Finding out that someone has been through your diary is like being turned inside out. Suddenly this person has a totally different view of you because they've seen the things they weren't mean to see: your most private, private thoughts. Now they know every layer of you and every space in between: your fears and fantasies, your darkest secrets, every little tiny bit of you. There is even worse to come because now they can spread that information to other people.
If I found a diary, would I read it? Or would I put it back knowing that it wasn't for me to see? Reading someone's diary is a low thing to do. Maybe even the lowest. It isn't the sort of thing you do to a friend, especially a special friend.
But had Ace and I really ever had that type of friendship?
Now I felt like I'd been fooling myself. Us four had held hands and made pacts and promises. We'd sworn loyalty and friendship. But that was back then, when we were the Starfish Sisters and I was Miss Micki. Stupid, stupid Miss Micki, thinking I could be like everybody else.
Kia came bursting into the kitchen.
'You're not meant to be in here!' Brian shouted. 'Micki's on lunch duty. Not you.'
'I just have to tell Micki something. I'll be quick, I promise.'
I was carefully drying the salad leaves 'cause Brian said I had to 'pat' them, not 'wipe' them or they'd bruise. Part of me wanted say, 'Brian, go shove this lettuce up your arse. If the biggest drama in your life is bruised lettuce leaves then you're doing okay.'
But I didn't like that part of me. I'd met enough kids at support groups to understand that bitterness and anger was only around the corner. The I-hate-everyone- because-my-life's-not-like-yours disease was easy for kids like me to come down with.
I had worked hard to stay free of that disease. Yet thanks to Ace, I could feel it now, just footsteps behind me. I wanted it to go away. But how?
Not even the sure cure of surfing had worked. In this morning's expression session, I'd done a doughnut then nosedived into the wave and got badly chundered around like a sock in the wash. Not even that beat it out of me.
I could hear the change in my voice. I could feel how hard my face had become. I could sense how silent I was being and I knew Georgie and Kia sensed it too.
'Oh, Brian, you have to save Georgie's lunch for her,' Kia told him.
'Why?'
She began to giggle. 'Because she's got an engagement.'
Brian opened his mouth to complain but Kia got in first. 'Carla knows about it.'
'Tell her it'll be in the dining room,' he said. 'And tell her to wash up afterwards.'
'Micki?'
'What?'
'Don't you want to know what Georgie's engagement is?'
'Um?'
'She's giving Jules a surfing lesson. Right now.'
'Out, Kia.' Brian shooed me away. 'You've delivered your message, off you go.'
'Go and spy on them.' I forced my voice to sound lighter around Kia.
She hadn't been the one to read my diary. Neither had Georgie. But I had a feeling that Georgie knew my stuff now. The way she'd sat on my bed and squeezed my foot while asking me about Dad made my antennae spring up on high alert. But was that because I knew what Ace had done? It was hard not to jump to conclusions and get paranoid.
I hated anyone – the neighbours or the teachers, anyone – even asking me how Dad was. At least in that situation I could make up my own story. But if Georgie already knew the answer then what could I say back?
Georgie did know. It was obvious. I saw her trying to whisper something to Kia at breakfast. When I asked what the secret was, Georgie went bright red and wiggled around in her chair.
Just say Georgie had already asked Kia? Just say Kia was like, 'The truth's out now, I might as well tell her everything'? Right now, Georgie was probably out in the surf telling Jules. She'd be saying –
'Micki!'
I had dropped the salad bowl. Tiny pieces of glass scattered all over the floor.
'Don't move,' instructed Brian. 'You'll crunch glass all through the kitchen.'
'I'm so sorry, Brian.'
'Accidents happen. Don't worry. Megan just about chopped her hand off this morning. You're just out of practice. You probably haven't had a tea towel in your hand since you were here last.'
My new best friends, my tears, bubbled up and exploded from my eyes and again I couldn't stop them.
I bolted out the kitchen door and along the walkways across the lawns and into the Starfish Bungalow.
There was only one way to stop this. I had managed to protect myself all these years. Lies, lies, hundreds of them I'd told. And now everyone knew!
I roared as I charged towards my bed, my hands grabbing at the pillow, tearing off its pink spotted case. My diary dive-bombed to the ground.
I threw myself on it, clawing at the pages as I ripped them from the spine. All the pathetic words of my pathetic life scattered and skipped across the floor.
'Micki!' Kia's voice came hurtling through the room. 'Micki! What are you doing?'
'I hate my life!' I choked. 'I hate, hate' – at each 'hate' I tore out another page – 'hate my life.'
Kia wrestled me to the ground. My arms and legs flapped and kicked but she managed to hold me firmly until I stopped shouting and started to breathe.
'That's right, Micki,' she whispered. 'Breathe. In and out. In and out. Just make it to the next minute. The pain will start to go. It's okay. It's okay.'
There was a gentle tapping on the door of the bungalow. It snapped me to my feet. I'd heard that thoughtful 'Don't want to interfere but is everything all right?' knock on the door at home many times.
'Yes, thank you. Everything's fine,' I would say to the nosey lady across the street.
But I couldn't play that here because Ace had ruined the game.
Kia tiptoed over to the door, opening it enough to stick her head out. I paced around listening to voices, all female, whispering on the other side.
Kia shut the door and without a word came up to me, took my hand and guided me into bed. I let her too 'cause I suddenly felt so tired.
'Come on,' she said, squeezing in next to me and puffing the doona around us. 'It was just Carla and Shyan. They said we can do our evaluation later.'
'Did they ask what was wrong?'
'No,' answered Kia. 'They just wanted to know if you were okay.'
'Carla and Jake know,' I said and yawned, 'about my dad.'
'Shh. It's okay.'
I snuggled into Kia's shoulder. My eyelids felt like they had giant weights on top of them.
'You still want to come and live with us, don't you?'
'Yes. I do.'
'What happened? Just then?'
'I lost it,' I whispered. 'I snapped.'
'Don't worry,' Kia said. 'I used to do that all the time.'
GEORGIE
'You're a natural, Jules!'
'Yeah?'
'At surfing, I mean. Actually, you're really a goofy 'cause you put your left foot in front,' I explained. 'Natural footers surf with their right one in front.'
'What are you?'
'I'm a natural, of course, sweetie!'
'Whatever you are, you're an awesome instructor, Georgie,' Jules said. 'Or as you guys say, a "heaps good" instructor.'
Jules and I were walking back along the beach. The gooey sand felt cold as it oozed between my toes. We'd had to surf down the southern end of Coolina, almost in front of the rock, 'cause Jake said I wasn't allowed to take Jules out in front because that was reserved for elite surf institute surfers only. La-di-da!
For a second I'd contemplated arguing with Jake. Number one, how would anyone know that Jules wasn't from here? He looked fit enough. But just as I was coming up with number two, I realised that it
was better for everyone, namely me, if we surfed as far away as possible.
Imagine Megan spotting us! She'd be out there snaking and hassling us on the waves. She'd be shouting out rude things to Jules like she did that night at the sushi-train restaurant. It would be totally humiliating.
And if Kia and Micki got the bright idea to paddle out and join us they'd probably turn into giggling idiots, which'd make Jules think that because I was their friend I was a giggling idiot too.
The south end of Coolina beach didn't have the beautiful long peeling left that the north end had but there was still heaps of fun to be had out there. Jules wasn't too bad. He'd ridden the first couple of waves on his knees. Then he got nailed over and over for about the next twenty minutes. But he hung in there and didn't give up. By the end he was on his feet. No turns or anything but he was heaps stoked.
'I want to get tubed or barrelled as you guys say.' He was talking fast. 'Ace reckons it's the best feeling ever.'
'She's right. It's unbelievable,' I replied. 'The first time you're so scared but so pumped and excited. I remember I had my eyes closed, like squeezed really tight closed. Then I opened them and I was inside this green tunnel of water and I could see this little hole at the end that I had to squeeze out of. Getting barrelled is like everything they say it is.'
'Wow.' Jules was smiling. 'Even when you were talking about it your face was like, I don't know, lit up or something.'
'Was it?'
'I get that adrenaline rush if I'm pitching really well.'
'Yeah? I don't know much about baseball.'
'But you know what I'm talking about. It's when your heart starts thumping and –'
'Yeah, and the hairs on your skin are standing up to attention,' I said. 'When I play soccer –'
'Hey! Do you play soccer?'
'Did play soccer,' I corrected myself. 'I had to choose between that and surfing. Surfing won. I preferred the outfit, you see. Looks beautiful on me, doesn't it?'
Jules was grinning and nodding. 'Seriously, do you miss playing soccer?'
'I still play a bit for fun. But yeah, I do miss it. Heaps sometimes.'
'Is it odd competing for yourself, you know, after being in a team?' When Jules spoke to you, he really, really looked at your face. It was distracting. It meant I had to concentrate on every word he said in case I slipped into a Jules trance. 'I only know team sport. That's all I've ever played. Sometimes I wonder what it'd be like being out there on your own.'
'Yeah. I had to forget the "there's no 'I' in team" line,' I laughed.
He nudged me with his shoulder. 'You don't strike me as an "it's all about me" kind of girl.'
'I had to learn it. That was the big breakthrough for me last camp. Ace helped me. She was great.'
'I bet she was.' But just as I felt those words slice my insides Jules said, 'She hasn't got the personality for team sport.'
Now I was too scared to look at his face. Did I want to hear the sting in his voice? Had I imagined it? Or did I hear it because it was there?
'So now I think of my opponents as a team.' The best thing to do was to stop thinking and keep talking. 'I'm one team and they're another team. When I played soccer our absolute enemies were the Coolangatta Cats. We hated them and they were hard to beat. So I think of this girl, Megan, like she's one of the Cats. I don't like her as a person; she's seriously not nice. But I admire her. She's got big talent and she's so gutsy. I love competing against her. She makes me want to win all the more.'
'Do you think you make her feel like that?'
'Doubt it,' I answered. 'Megan's pretty cocky. But she's got a reason to be.'
Jules was nodding. 'But you need someone like that to bring the fire out in you.'
As the camp buildings came into view he slowed his walk. Or did I?
'Georgie, can we go out again tomorrow?'
'I can try,' I answered. 'It depends what the schedule is. We're not guaranteed a free surfing session every day. It feels a lot stricter this time.'
'Can you do it at lunchtime again?'
'What's this, an enforced diet?' I joked.
'No way!' Jules laughed. 'You're not obsessed about everything you put in your mouth like Ace, are you?'
'Do I look like I am?'
'You're good,' Jules told me. 'I'd say you're perfect.'
Did he just say I was perfect?
'I'm not into skinny girls,' he said. 'When I'm visiting the States I see girls that are either really, really skinny or really, really fat.'
I wasn't totally comfortable with where this conversation was going. At the same time I had a sick curiosity to take it further. Maybe Jules would tell me exactly what he meant when he'd said I was 'perfect'. Was it because I wasn't some scrawn bag? But then I hated it when people said I was cuddly. Because I wasn't. I was big framed; that's different to being cuddly.
'So, um, what do you think about the girls here, in Australia?' I pried.
'They're probably more like the girls from home.'
'From Canada, you mean?'
'That's where I call home.'
'Do you miss it?'
'I do at the moment,' Jules answered. 'It's summer holidays there. All my friends are partying, going away. Every day there's a new story about something crazy they've been up to.'
'And you wish you were there?'
'I do, but then I wanted this. I wanted to come to Australia. I mean, how cool.'
'But it's not home,' I told him.
'It's not home.' Jules stopped walking and started doing some squats. Up down, up down. I stood there waiting for him to finish. Random!
'Sorry,' he said and laughed. 'There's a bit of chafing going on. Probably 'cause I'm in a chick's wetsuit.'
'Too much information,' I muttered under my breath.
He grinned back.
I had purposely given Jules my spring wetsuit to wear and kept my winter one for myself. Mostly, it was 'cause I wanted to cover my legs but also my spring suit was a size smaller. My wettie being baggy on Jules was more than my self-esteem could take.
'Haven't you got a cossie on underneath?' I asked, trying to swallow the giggles that were creeping up my throat. Jules looked ridiculous bending up and down like a total unco.
'Do I look like I'm doing ballet?' Jules said, doing embarrassingly stupid arm movements.
'Really, really bad ballet.'
'I was wearing boxers but I took them off. Not such a good idea, huh? Next time I'll keep them on. I promise.'
Next time. Next time? What was that meant to mean?
So many things were different about camp. For a start, it didn't look as pretty but that was 'cause it was winter and it was like seeing everything through grey goggles. There was the obvious difference: Ace not being here. The disastrous one, which was Megan living in the Starfish Bungalow. The serious one, in that it was much, much stricter. To be truthful, I was even missing Jake's bad jokes. And the quietness. I didn't even know how to describe that.
In January this place had been chock-a-block with girls shouting, laughing, singing, running up and down the walkways, visiting one another's bungalows. But now it was quiet. Like, so quiet that the silence was echoing through the corridor, making it 'loud quiet' if there was such a thing.
'Hello?' I popped my head into the dining room. The only thing in there was my lunch, covered in plastic wrap, and a note that said 'Please wash, dry and return plate to kitchen.'
I took my sandwich and wandered down the corridor.
'Hello?' I called again.
The timetable had said '2 pm – 4 pm skills evaluation/video/discussion. Meeting Room 4'.
But it was 2.35 pm and no one was in meeting room 4. Or 1, 2 or 3.
I went back to the timetable pinned up outside the dining room to check I'd read it properly.
'Georgie?'
Carla came out of the kitchen with two cups of what smelt like hot chocolate.
'Don't you know where you're meant to be, darl?'
; 'Well, it says meeting room 4 but no one's there.'
Slowly I walked along with Carla as she balanced the steaming drinks.
'They didn't leave a note?' she asked.
'Who?'
'Jake was going to put a note on the door to say they were in the gym.'
'Okay.'
'How was your student?' she asked me with a tiny smirk.
'He stood up,' I answered. Surely I could talk about my friend's boyfriend without the tomato face making an appearance. But it didn't feel like it!
Carla and I stopped outside the entrance to the gym. Inside, Megan bellowed in time with the clunk of a weight machine. I took a deep breath and told myself it was good Megan was here. As Jules said, I need 'someone like that'. She pushed me to be a better surfer. It was just a bummer that she pushed me when we were out of the surf as well.
'Have you been up to the bungalow?' Carla asked me.
'No. I got changed in the surf shed. Too much of a trek going up and down all the time.'
Carla stood by the double glass doors. 'Can you open them for me, Georgie?'
'Sure.'
Carla stepped out and chucked a left towards the walkway to the bungalows. It seemed odd that she'd be taking the cleaners a drink each. She was always complaining that either they were slack or we were too messy.
But when I went into the gym to find only Megan and Jake, it suddenly seemed more than odd that Carla was heading up there with two cups of hot chocolate.
'Where are the others?' I asked Jake.
'Your Starfish Sisters?' Megan answered. 'They've abandoned you.'
'Get stuffed, Megan.'
'They'll be down soon,' Jake said as he passed me a set of hand weights. 'Okay, fifteen of the upper body repetitions, three sets, thirty-second break between each set.'
'Aye, aye, captain,' I replied.
'Shyan spotted a shark right out the front of here,' Megan and her freaky eyeballs told me. 'She pissed her pants and paddled straight back in. I wonder if she counts pissing in the water as environmentally unfriendly?'
'Give it a rest, Megan,' Jake snapped.
At least now Megan was pissing Jake off.
'Was there really a shark?' I asked Jake.
'Shyan didn't get a good look at it. She saw the fin and was out of there.'