by J. C. Burke
Now I'd spoken to Jules, I realised they weren't that interesting. Not that I'd thought they would be.
I had called Jules just as he was heading down to meet Georgie. I wasn't being a bitch. I wasn't being the possessive, clingy girlfriend. But I said to him, 'Jules, I really don't want you to meet Georgie this morning.'
Jules moaned and whinged and said he didn't like breaking arrangements with people. So I told him what I didn't want to tell him: 'Jules, the only reason Georgie is taking you for a surf is because she's trying to get at me.'
He didn't say anything so I kept going. 'I have done nothing to Georgie. Nothing! But she's been totally out to get me since the moment I arrived. Honestly, Jules, she's been horrible,' I said. 'She'll stop being weird soon. I don't exactly know when but she will stop. Then, I don't mind how many times you go surfing with her. But wouldn't you rather go surfing with me?'
'I've got to go, Ace,' Jules replied.
'You're not mad with me?'
'No. I'm not mad with you.'
Georgie didn't tell me that Jules stood her up. I didn't ask either. It was so obvious. She sulked through breakfast and then again in the nutritionist's session. Not once did she open her mouth, which was very un-Georgie.
When Andy Wallace arrived she didn't say hello plus she went from being the star surfer yesterday to not even bothering to try today. What an idiot! She could have missed an opportunity of a lifetime.
Andy's speech on looking for new faces had spun me out a bit. But mostly that was because he hadn't told me himself. Last meeting, Andy had mentioned that Ocean Pearl was looking to expand their range. Obviously I knew that I couldn't model and represent everything. It was only a matter of time before OP sponsored some other surfers. But as their number one girl, I would've liked to have been informed, not just find out with all the others.
So, after our surfing session I told Andy I wanted to talk to him. We arranged to meet after lunch in Carla's office.
I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth and pinning up my hair when I heard someone walk into the bungalow.
'Hello?' I called.
I opened the bathroom door to see Georgie plonking herself down on her bed.
'Are you okay?' I asked.
She ignored me. So I said, 'Jules didn't turn up this morning?'
'Nah.'
Georgie looked so miserable with her big, sad puppy dog eyes and droopy mouth. I suddenly felt bad. 'He probably just forgot.'
I wondered what it was like being Georgie. She wasn't ugly and it wasn't that she wasn't pretty. It was like she'd never grown out of being a tomboy. When you're a ten-year-old girl, being a tomboy is cute. But at fifteen, I think guys like girls to be girls.
'Are you meeting him now?'
'Jules?' I said.
'Yeah.'
'No,' I answered, sucking in my cheeks so I could hit the bronzer exactly on my cheekbones. 'I have a meeting with Andy in Carla's office.'
'Oh.'
'Hey, did you notice Micki French-braided her hair this morning?'
'Yeah.'
'We taught her that. Remember?'
'She likes wearing her hair like that when she surfs. It keeps it out of her face.'
'Micki's surfing is awesome. Don't you reckon?'
'Yeah.'
Now the puppy eyes were starting to annoy me. It was her fault that she stuffed up her surfing in front of Andy. It wasn't the end of the world either. All she had to do was give Andy the tape of her carving it up yesterday and he'd say, 'Sign on the dotted line.'
In the mirror, I noticed Georgie watching me as I put on my earrings.
The puppy face wasn't 'cause Georgie thought she'd had a chance with Jules? No! Even though she was being horrible at the moment she was still my Starfish Sister. She wouldn't do that.
Andy Wallace was the marketing brains of Ocean Pearl. He had taken the brand all the way to America. The reason they were getting into more products, like wetsuits, surfboards and skis, was because OP had been a hit in the USA.
Mum and I had got excited when we heard they were taking it to America 'cause we thought maybe I'd be the OP girl there. Bummer for us, they picked a girl from Hawaii instead. Personally, I didn't think she was that photogenic. Her nose was quite flat. But she had an awesome body and she surfed.
One of the things I was going to suggest to Andy was a story profiling me and her as the two Ocean Pearl girls. Compare our lives, the different cultures, our hopes for the world – it could be really interesting. I was certain all the mags would fight for it. We could even do a modelling shoot together.
The other brain of Ocean Pearl was Samara Hoy. Samara was the artistic one. She designed the stuff and came up with the concept for each season. One of the bikinis was even named after her: 'Samara', a cheeky one with tiny Brazilian bottoms. That was the cossie Tim had liked me to wear when I went to watch him surf.
I'd never told anyone this, but I had a secret hope that one day they'd call one of the bikinis after me. 'Ace'. Maybe Samara would even let me design it.
Lightly, I touched the top of my head. The pins hadn't moved. In Daryl's words, 'all my sins were covered'.
Andy was sitting at Carla's desk, staring out the window.
'Hello?'
'Ace!' He jumped up like I'd given him a fright. 'Come on in. Sit down.'
'You looked like you were in another world.'
'I probably was,' he answered. 'I'm glad you called this meeting as there are a few things up for discussion, aren't there?'
I smiled then crossed my hands on the desk. 'Andy, I was wondering about what you meant down at the beach. You said OP was looking for new girls. Of course I understand that. I can't model and represent everything and the way the brand is expanding, it – it makes sense to sponsor other girls. That was just the first I'd heard of it.' Again I checked that the pins were in place. 'I just would have rather you'd told me about it first.'
'Did you tell Samara you were cutting your hair?'
'Pardon?'
'Your hair?' Andy continued. 'Does Samara know you got it cut?'
'No.' I forced my hands to stay on the desk. Had the pins moved when I'd just touched my head? Was there a sin poking through? 'If there's a problem I can always get extensions.'
'No need.' Andy smiled then crossed his hands on the desk too. 'OP is going to have a big overhaul. You know, like when you build a new house you get new furniture.'
'Yes?'
'So, we're getting new girls and injecting a whole new vibe into the brand. OP isn't only looking for surfers.' Andy slapped each finger as he rattled off the list. 'Snow skiers, snow boarders, ironwomen, body-boarders.'
'So OP will be their product sponsor? Is that what you mean?'
'Pretty much,' Andy answered. 'If they fit the bill as an OP girl, that is. We'll still have the face of OP. You know, that one OP girl who truly represents the brand.'
'Oh good.' I wiped my hands along my jeans.
'Samara's started working on the bikinis for . . . hmm.' Andy stretched then scratched his head. 'It'd be the summer after this one.'
'Yeah, 'cause I've already done the shoot for this coming summer.'
'How old will you be the summer after that?'
'Nineteen.' There was one more thing Andy hadn't mentioned. One more thing I needed to hear just to make sure everything was fine. 'Andy, it's great I'm here, isn't it?'
'You must be happy, Ace.'
'I am going to work so hard. I am going to make that team, Andy.'
'Good girl, Ace. I really hope you do.'
Andy stood up. Was that it?
'I'm here for a couple of days,' he said.
So what he was really saying was that he didn't have time to chat now. I knew he loved our little talks. He used to always ask me about Tim and me and other high profile surfers I knew and what everyone was up to.
'Are you waiting to see the other girls who arrive tomorrow?'
'Yeah and just mooching around.' Andy held th
e door open for me. 'Getting to know everyone.'
'I've got a Swiss ball class now. Just a one on one.'
'Good for core strength,' Andy replied as he walked me out to the hallway. 'Ace, what's Micki like?'
'She's lovely,' I said. 'I think she's had a pretty tough life. She doesn't go on about it though. Her mum died from cancer when she was little and her dad, I don't know if he has cancer too, but he's in and out of hospital a lot.'
'And she's how old?'
'Only thirteen. Poor little thing.'
Then Andy asked the weirdest question: 'Ace, how would you describe a pearl?'
'You mean, a pearl pearl?' I frowned. 'Like the ones you wear?'
'Like an ocean pearl.'
'White, round,' I said. 'Look really good in people's ears. Um?'
'Okay.'
That wasn't just the weirdest question, that was the weirdest meeting too.
But Andy told me everything I needed to know. I got all the answers. So why did I have that same feeling I get when I think I've left my hair straightener on and burnt down the apartment?
I was still going to be the face of OP. The only difference was that there were going to be other faces – but just product-sponsored ones smiling with their Ocean Pearl skis or bodyboard. Andy said himself that there'd still be that one girl who represents the whole of OP. There was nothing to stress about.
Apart from preparing for a big surf contest and certain times when I was going out with Tim, I didn't used to get stressed. Kia was a stress cadet. She got stressed over the tiniest and the biggest things.
At the January camp, I remember lying in bed those last few nights wondering how Kia could cut herself like that. I just didn't get what made her do it. What made her actually pick up the scissors and do that? It was like trying to understand language that my ears had never been programmed for.
It's not that I understood it now, but what I did get was how bad feelings could become. For the last five months I had permanently felt like I'd left my straightening iron on. I'd wake up and this sinking feeling like I'd swallowed my heart overnight would be my morning greeting.
I pushed my nose against the glass doors at the end of the corridor and looked out at the garden and tennis courts. On the lawn was an ibis digging its black curved beak into the grass. In out, in out, it kept going. Whatever it wanted, that bird wasn't going to give up till it got it.
Finally life was getting better. I felt like I'd been given a second chance. Luck had left Megan and come to me. Now it was my turn to keep it going. Because there was one thing I was certain of: I was never, ever going to feel like that loser again.
GEORGIE
Deja vu. We were sitting in a circle in the rec room, checking one another out in the meet-and-greet session with the new girls. Laura, the one from Sydney, was going to step on her tongue if she wasn't careful. She had not stopped gawking at Ace. That was fine 'cause Laura was a big-wave surfer like me, so hopefully she'd be busy gawking at Ace in the water too and miss out on all the good waves.
Jussie and Steph, the girls from Victoria who seemed to do everything together, had just finished their speech and were handing the microphone to the third girl from Victoria, called Zena.
'Hi, I'm Zena, I'm sixteen. I started surfing when I was about seven 'cause I have three older brothers and that's where they used to babysit me. In the surf.'
I wondered if Zena's big brothers were cute. They were probably too old for me. Besides, I had sworn off cute guys forever. Actually, ugly guys too. Just guys, full stop. I was allergic to them. Or more likely, they were allergic to me.
Kia was right. I was going to end up as one of those creeps in late-night chat rooms. At least I had time to get used to the idea. Better realising it at fifteen than twenty-five.
Yesterday, Jules did text me: 'So sorry. Feel bad. I'll try and call lata.'
He mustn't have felt that bad because 'lata' never came. No call. No text. Just the big silent treatment.
But all night, Ace seemed to be going back and forth messaging from her phone. Jules hadn't dropped off the planet or spontaneously combusted. He just didn't want to talk to me.
'And I'm not sure if you remember, Courtney,' Zena said, smiling at Ace, 'but we were at the same school. Primrose Grammar, at Mornington. I was in the year below.'
'Yeah,' Ace said. 'I went to Primrose Grammar. I left towards the middle of year nine.'
'You went out with my brother. Only for a bit though. Patrick. Patrick Michaels.'
'Patrick Michaels?' She looked at the rest of us and laughed. 'He was the cute one, wasn't he?'
'What a small world,' Carla said, winding Zena up to a finish. 'Thanks, Zena.'
Ace had begun to giggle. Laura from Sydney had gone out in sympathy and was giggling too. Carla saved me from having to slap Ace around by putting an end to it herself.
'Okay, Ace. Thank you.' Carla tapped on the microphone for some hush. 'Girls, this is a very important week. Actually, it's not even a week. It's just six days, six very tough days, but if you want to be in the Australian team, if you want the honour of representing your country, then you've got to earn it.'
The friendly meet-and-greet vibe evaporated in one second flat. I looked around the room. All the girls were suddenly sitting up straight and nodding with each of Carla's words.
It was going to be tough. There were eight of us but four places in the team.
'This selection process is more than just a day's contest on Friday,' Carla said. 'It's twenty-four hours a day for the next five days. Not only with your surfing but in your attitude and the way you conduct yourself while you're here. Today won't count. I want to give the girls who've just arrived time to settle in. But as from tomorrow, Sunday, June twenty-first, the selection process begins. We're not going to spoonfeed you and drag you out of bed and do a headcount at every session. It's up to every one of you individuals to push yourself. And we will know who is pushing themselves and who isn't. Okay? All clear?'
Zena's gaze was flicking from one girl to the next. She was sizing us up and checking out her competition. At this moment, probably all of us were doing the exact same thing.
If only I had a crystal ball. Then I'd know which one of these hopeful faces would have their dream shattered at the end of the week. Would it be me? Would it be Ace again? What about Kia? If she didn't make it, would she start cutting herself again?
Micki's hands were holding the sides of her chair. I could even see her knuckles turn pink as she squeezed and listened. Something told me Micki would make it. She was hungry enough and boy, did she deserve it.
*
The rest of the morning was open for free surfing. I reckon Jake organised it like that so we could all get in there and see what we were up against.
The most likely formation for the team would be two powerful big-wave surfers and two who could pull off their tricks on virtually no swell. That usually meant smaller girls like Kia and Micki and, by the looks of her, Zena too.
I put on my leg rope and breathed in the salty air. The sun was low in the sky and the wind coming off the ocean could snap freeze the tip of your nose, but still, for the middle of winter it was an almost perfect day.
The surf was offshore and walling up beautifully. Maybe today I could show Andy Wallace a few of my tricks without looking like the idiot I did yesterday. At least my nosedives and crazy doughnuts provided a few laughs.
Yesterday was just a bad day. In and out of the water. As Steve, my surfing coach at home, would say, 'Learn from it, then put it behind you and move on.'
It was easy to learn from my mistakes in the surf. At least, the one mistake I kept making over and over again yesterday. I wasn't dragging my arm into the wall of the wave enough. I was so pissed off and humiliated from my experiences on land that when I got into the water, I couldn't get my centre right. My bum was in the air, my shoulders were stiff and my timing was off. Basically, I was all over the place.
But stuffing up a backside ba
rrel was easy to fix. I just had to put my hand in the wall and relax my upper body. That's how you executed good backside grab rails. The rest followed.
Learn, put it behind you, move on. Done!
I could hear Jake and Andy cheering from the beach as I paddled back out for my next slaughter.
But how did I do that on land? Learn, put it behind you, move on. It wasn't that simple.
Sitting at the rock, checking my watch every thirty seconds, thinking every guy walking towards me was Jules – I never ever wanted to be that stupid again.
We had arranged to meet down the south end at 6.40 am. So why at 7.30 am was I still sitting there, ignoring the brick that was starting to settle in my stomach?
Because somehow I'd got this crazy idea that Jules liked me. It was nothing he'd said; it was certainly nothing he'd done. It was just this feeling I'd got from him. Correction, got from myself. Imagined. What a loser!
Karma. That was the other side to this. I was being punished for liking someone else's boyfriend. Breaking that rule probably made me a double loser.
As much as Ace pissed me off at the moment, she was still my friend and we all knew the number one rule. Baby girls are born with that knowledge. The information is engraved into their brains. That's their first thought before they even remember to cry.
A newborn can't say 'Mamma' or 'Dadda'. It doesn't know that the colour of the sun is yellow. In fact, it doesn't even know there is a sun, but a newborn does know that when you grow up to become a big girl you don't steal your friend's boyfriend!
So what the hell had I been thinking?
The set that'd just started moving through was walling up so perfectly you could hang paintings on it. I swung around and started digging my arms through the water. I was going to pick this off.
In a matter of seconds, I was up, making the drop, then skating across the face. It was like being able to run up and down the walls in a Disney cartoon.
Andy, Jake and a few others were probably watching me from the beach. There I was out on view for everyone to see. Georgie, the idiot who actually thought Jules liked her. They could point and laugh and say, 'Who was she kidding!'