Starfish Sisters

by J. C. Burke

  'What time were you meant to get there?' Mum loved to stress over the boring details. Before Mum and Dad got divorced, Dad always used to tell her, 'Doreen, don't sweat the small stuff.'

  For the twenty thousandth time, I checked my phone was on. Why hadn't Tim called or sent a text? I was seriously beginning to feel pissed off. In less than an hour he'd be on a plane to Indo. I hadn't got to see him yesterday or the day before because he was flat out getting ready for his trip. That meant it would be almost six weeks until I saw him.

  'Courtney, if you look at your phone again, I'm going to throw it out the window. Got it?' Mum was changing lanes like a maniac. 'Now, what time is the meet and greet?'

  'Eleven.'

  'We're going to be late!'

  'Well, that's too bad. What do they expect? I can't get from a photo shoot in Brisbane to Coolina in thirty minutes. It's a two-hour drive, minimum. They're not exactly going to chuck me out if I'm late.' I checked the car mirror. My hair was starting to sag so I turned up the air conditioner. 'They knew I was committed to do the shoot before they set the camp dates.'

  'What turn do we take off the highway?' Mum was slowing down and the car behind was flashing their high beams at us.

  'This is so embarrassing.' I slid down the seat as the car overtook us.

  'Look, there are signs up ahead. What do they say? Courtney!'

  'Coolina, fifty-eight kilometres,' I read.

  'Half an hour and we'll be there.'

  I shrugged. I was going to be there for three weeks. An hour wasn't going to make any difference.

  'It's blowing a gale in here,' Mum complained, again. 'Please, turn the air con down a bit.'

  'Mum, Tiffany took an hour and a half on my hair this morning. Can't I enjoy it for a bit?'

  'You'll be getting it wet in an hour.'

  I put my fingers on the dial, pretending to turn the air con down. I wanted my hair to look good for when I got there. After that I didn't care.

  My mobile rang. The name 'Timmy' lit up the screen.

  'Hey babe,' I said. I didn't want him to know that I was mad. 'Are you at the airport?'

  'Nah.' He sounded like he was eating. 'Brent and Rasta just got back from Brazil. So I'm going to hang here for a couple more days.'

  'Oh?' I tried to make my voice sound light. 'I thought the heats started on the weekend?'

  'Weekend after that.' He still sounded like he was chewing. 'So me and the fellas thought we'd party a bit, 'cause I won't see them for a while.'

  'You know we're not going to see each other for six weeks.' I couldn't help it. It just slipped out. 'Tim?'

  'Then think how much better it'll be when we do.'

  I checked Mum. She was concentrating on the road.

  'Will you miss me?' I whispered.

  'You betcha.'

  'Every night before I go to sleep' – I turned towards the door and cupped my hand over the phone – 'I'll look at the moon and think how you'll be looking at the same moon too.'

  'Yeah, right. I'd rather think of you the way you were the other night,' Tim replied. Straightaway, I wished he hadn't said that. He'd been saying a lot of that stuff since – since the other night, and it made me feel weird, like I wanted to have a shower and scrub the grime off my skin. 'That's all I'll be thinking about, you sexy thing.'

  Some shouting and whistles erupted in the background. I sat up straight, almost knocking my head on the windscreen.

  'Are Rasta and Brent in the room?'

  'Settle, Ace,' Tim laughed. 'They just walked in with some beers.'

  'But it's the morning!' Yet that's not really what I was worried about.

  'So? It's our breakfast.'

  'Tim?' I glanced at Mum. She was staring straight ahead, concentrating on the road. 'Will you call me?'

  Away from the phone he yelled, 'Chuck us one, Rasta.'

  I waited.

  'Sure, sweetie,' he answered. 'Okay babe, I've got to go.'

  Tim wasn't good at saying goodbyes.

  Now Mum was looking at me and not the road.

  'What?'

  'I don't know, Courtney. You are still only sixteen.'

  'So? What are you trying to say?'

  'Tim's a lot older than you, sweetheart.'

  'It doesn't bother him that I'm younger.'

  'No, I'm sure it doesn't.'

  'What's that meant to mean?' I snapped. 'Anyway, it's not like he's ten years older. He's six years older. So what?'

  'I still think he's too old for you.'

  'We weren't thinking about age when we fell in love.'

  Mum did one of her famous sighs.

  'Well, we weren't.'

  'There are so many nice boys your own age,' Mum said. 'What about Charlie, that boy we see on the circuit sometimes?'

  'Charlie Sweeney!' Yuck. My mother had no taste. Except when she met my dad. 'Mum, he's a little grom. I think my taste is just a little bit more sophisticated than that, thanks.'

  Coolina, twenty kilometres, the next sign read. I got out my make-up bag and put a bit more foundation, bronzer and lip gloss on. I was into the natural look. There was nothing more tacky than girls who caked it on.

  'Courtney?'

  'Yeah?'

  'You always said you'd tell me . . .' I knew where Mum was going with this and as far as I was concerned it was nowhere. 'You'd tell me if you, if you were thinking about having sex. I personally think you're far too young to be thinking about it. But that said, I know it happens and the important thing is safe sex and being really sure that it's what you want to do.'

  'Yes, Mum.' I was not going to have this conversation with her – ever.

  'I mean, that's the most important thing: you being comfortable and ready.'

  I fiddled with the radio.

  'Not just doing it because you think you have to. I mean, I know what boys can be like.'

  I turned up the volume.

  'They can be very persuasive if they're trying to get you into bed.'

  'That's enough, Mum!'

  I stared out at a red tractor that seemed marooned in a mass of sugarcane plants. I craned my neck watching it gradually disappear into a tiny red dot. What would Mum know about me? Just because I was her daughter didn't mean we shared the same ideas. She just didn't realise that. But that's the way it was. And that's the way it always would be.

  'So,' Mum was still rabbiting on, 'I just wanted to say that although I don't agree with it, I am there for you if you want to talk. Okay?'

  'Yep.'

  'Look, Australian National Sports and Surf School,' Mum said, pointing at the new sign. 'What did it used to say?'

  'National Sports Camp, I think.' Two years ago I'd done a camp here. Since then the centre had been improved. Everyone I spoke to said now it was totally amazing, like something out of Bali. The facilities were supposedly to die for.

  'Are you excited?' Mum asked.

  'I'm just starting to feel excited now,' I said as we drove through the entrance. 'Wow, how good does this place look.'

  'Courtney, I'd be very surprised if you weren't selected for the National Training Team.'

  My mother could be so stupid. She still needed things spelt out for her and she was forty-seven! 'Mum, the whole reason they've got me to come to the camp is because they want to select me for the team. I'm not talking about the training team, either. But you have to follow the steps. You have to be selected for the training team in order to be selected for the national team.'

  'Hmm, your modesty,' Mum laughed, getting out of the car. 'You certainly don't get it from me.'

  'Let's not muck around with my boards,' I told her. 'Someone else can unload them. I think we should just go straight in.'

  Mum checked the introduction notice. 'The rec room,' she read. 'That's where the meet and greet is.'

  'Look, ask this man.' An old bloke was pushing a trailer of surfboards towards the beach. 'Quickly, Mum, ask him.'

  'Excuse me?' Mum almost whispered.

  'A bit
louder,' I said. 'He's probably half deaf.'

  'Hello?' Mum called. 'Excuse me?'

  He stopped and started walking towards us.

  'Hello.' He smiled.

  'Hi.' Mum waved. 'My daughter and I have just arrived. We had to drive down from Brisbane this morning. The traffic getting out of the city was terrible.'

  'He doesn't need your life story, Mum. Just directions.'

  He held out his hand. 'I'm Reg Braidwood.'

  'Doreen McFarlane.' My mother actually looked like she was blushing. 'This is my daughter Courtney.'

  'Ace?' How did that man know my nickname? Maybe he was some sort of psycho stalker who got off on my bikini posters. There were hundreds of them. 'I'm Kia's dad,' he told me.

  'Right,' I nodded. Who the hell was Kia?

  'Is your daughter here too?' Mum asked. 'Sorry. We thought you worked here.'

  'I just help out,' he said, grinning. 'We only live an hour south.'

  Mum finally stopped blushing and got to the point. 'We're looking for the rec room?'

  'I'll take you there,' he replied. 'Leave your boards and bags. You can get them on the way back.'

  'No, you can get them on the way back,' I wanted to say. Like, as if I'm going to carry all my surfboards! I hadn't done that since the day OP signed me up.

  The old bloke turned to me like he wanted to make conversation or was having the biggest perv. I checked my phone so I wouldn't have to look at him.

  'You've got a few surfboards there,' he said. 'What, five?'

  'Six,' I replied.

  'That's a lot.'

  'OP, you know, Ocean Pearl, look after me.'

  'One little girl here's only brought one.'

  Up ahead was the rec room. I could see everyone seated in a big circle.

  I flicked my hair a couple of times. It was still standing up beautifully.

  The man slid open the glass door. Luckily for me, it made a bit of a squeak. Everyone turned and I walked in smiling. I felt their eyes watching and their mouths dying to whisper, 'That's Tim Parker's girlfriend.'

  You could've heard a pin drop.

  GEORGIE

  Courtney McFarlane was probably prettier than in her photos. Although the amount of foundation and bronzer on her face did make her look like she'd just been baked in a tandoori oven.

  She thought she was pretty hot too. It was like she'd orchestrated this grand entrance. If it was so everyone would stop and stare, she got it.

  I had to give Kia a fat nudge.

  'What?'

  'Stop staring.'

  'I wasn't.'

  'You were.'

  Micki was sitting on the other side of Kia. She seemed really uncomfortable. I didn't blame her. Kia was being so unfriendly. When we left the bungalow to come down here, Kia grabbed my hand and started running, dragging me along like we were a couple of three-year-olds. It was embarrassing and I felt bad for Micki 'cause it was so obvious what Kia was doing.

  I wanted to tell Micki that Kia would eventually thaw – like maybe on the last day of camp. But how could I warn her that Kia was prone to mood swings and psycho moments, let alone that she was on Kia's hit list? As if I could ever say that. If Kia found out, she'd have one of those little moments at me and she hadn't had one for a while.

  The last flip-out she'd had at me was back in April when we were surfing in a competition down the South Coast. I had to go with Kia and Reg as my parents were at a wedding.

  I don't know what triggered Kia's mood swing. I never did; they always seemed to come out of nowhere. This time, Kia locked herself in the surf club's toilet. She would not come out. I waited and waited. I asked her about a million times what was wrong but she wouldn't speak to me. Eventually I had to leave her 'cause the finals were called and I was in them.

  Back at school the next week, when Kia was speaking to me again, she promised it had nothing to do with me making the finals. She said she was feeling sick and fed up with her dad telling her what to do. I wasn't sure I believed her. She was pissed off with me for getting further in the comp than she had. But she'd never admit it.

  At the time, I felt hurt. Back then I was focused on competitive surfing and it meant a heap to me making the finals. But if it happened now, I don't reckon I'd care. I'd probably say, 'Take my spot, I don't want it and all the crap that goes with it.'

  Kia was still checking out Courtney, who had just flicked her hair for the seventeenth time. The oldest girl here, Megan de Raile, who was seventeen and from Tasmania, had almost finished her meet and greet. My turn was next.

  I took the microphone and went to the middle of the circle.

  'Hi, I'm Georgie,' I started. 'I'm fourteen and I live just an hour south at Lennox with my parents and two younger sisters, who don't surf and think I'm their substitute brother.'

  A few giggled.

  'I started surfing when I was eleven, with Kia, my best friend. That's her over there.' I pointed. Kia went purple. 'I didn't compete at first, but Reg, that's Kia's dad, convinced me to go in the Grom Search and I came third in the under-thirteens, which was pretty cool. Then I ended up winning the regionals, which was also pretty cool. So I kept competing. Um . . .' I looked around. They looked like they were waiting for more. 'Last year, no, the year before that I mean, I was in the top five for the nationals and in the beginning of last year I came second in the New South Wales Open Schoolgirls Championship for my age group. After that I kind of bombed out. And yeah, it's really good to be here.' I had to say that. 'Oh, also I love soccer. Our team won the Premiership and the Champion of Champions. That was the best feeling ever. Um, thank you.'

  Kia was chewing her bottom lip as she took the microphone from me. She got all shy with these sorts of things.

  'I'm Kia, as you already know.' She shrugged. 'I'm also fourteen and live in Lennox. I have a little brother called Charlie who has got the best cheeks to squeeze.' Kia giggled and for a second looked like she couldn't think of anything else to say. 'Um, that's my dad, Reg, over there and my mum is probably asleep 'cause she's a nurse and does night duty.'

  Kia was rolling back and forth on the soles of her feet. That's what she did before competing. On the nerve ratings scale, I'd say she was about a ten out of ten at the moment.

  'I've been surfing . . . forever. My dad taught me. My first big win was when I was ten at the National Gromfest. The last couple of years I've come mostly second in the regionals 'cause Georgie's come first.'

  Kia giggled. This time it wasn't spontaneous. I could tell. She was still trying to make out it didn't bother her.

  Kia had such high expectations of herself. Even when we did gymnastics in first grade she wasn't happy unless every one of her moves was perfect. 'My dream is to represent Australia,' Kia continued, 'and compete overseas in the ISA junior titles. I'd also love to make the Pro Junior Series and eventually get on the WQS. My mum says my studies are really important and that's true. I wouldn't mind doing physiotherapy, if I couldn't surf that is. That's about it.'

  Micki stood up. Kia looked the other way as she virtually shoved the microphone into her hand. Micki almost dropped it and we all jumped at the loud noise it made. Kia rolled her eyes.

  'Hi everyone,' Micki squeaked. 'I'm Micki Elvich. I come from Queensland, just near Maroochydore. My favourite break is Keyong, but you wouldn't have heard of it before. There's a right-hander there that really gets pumping when the swell's big. You've got to go down a bush track to get there and it's always pretty deserted.'

  I could feel Kia staring at me. I turned and again she rolled her eyes and made a little yawning gesture.

  'Don't,' I mouthed.

  'I'm thirteen soon.' Micki had gone bright red and turned her back a little so she didn't have to see Kia. Gradually her voice gathered some volume. 'I won the state and the regionals last year in my age group. They were probably the two best days of my life. I'm like Kia.'

  Kia coughed. I could've slapped her.

  'I mean, I mean in that,' Micki stumble
d, 'I also want to compete in the ISA junior titles and become professional. Thanks.'

  We gave Micki an extra-loud clap. I wanted to get up and hug her. She seemed so tiny and young yet at the same time there was something about her face that was old.

  'Okay.' Carla, the director, took the microphone. 'Just a meet and greet from our latecomer now. Courtney?'

  Courtney moved into the centre of the circle. Her legs were brown and long and super-slim. I uncrossed my tree trunks and tried to pull my boardies over my knees.

  'Courtney's been to camp before,' Carla told us. 'Was it last year?'

  'The year before.'

  'Are you happy with the changes?'

  'It's like a totally different place.' Courtney was even holding the microphone like she was being interviewed on TV. 'I can't wait to have a look around.'

  'That's good.' Carla nodded to us all. 'Especially coming from someone who enjoys the high life as the Ocean Pearl girl.'

  'Ohhh!' Talk about a forced trying-to-be-modest sound.

  'Tell us the Courtney McFarlane story.'

  Carla tiptoed away.

  'Thanks, Carla.' Courtney grinned. She was almost as good as Oprah.

  'Hi, my name's Courtney but my friends call me Ace. Long story,' she said, again flicking her golden tresses to the other shoulder. 'I'm sixteen and I've been living on the Gold Coast for the past three years. I grew up on the Mornington Peninsula in Victoria but we moved to Queensland 'cause it was better for my surfing career.'

  Career? Hmmm.

  'OP totally look after me. Which sounds really good, I know, but it's not that easy. There are heaps of modelling commitments and appearances that go with it.'

  Kia looked like she was about to slip off her chair she was leaning so far forward, lapping up every word 'Ace' had to say.

  'I've won state and national titles and I was picked as the wild card last year for the Australian Junior Surfing Squad but I stuffed my shoulder snowboarding. I've only just started surfing again in the last couple of months. That's why it's so good to be here and getting back into my surfing. But I'm really going to miss my boyfriend.' Courtney giggled, then whispered a breathy, 'Thank you for listening.'

  I waited for Kia to give her a standing ovation. Praise the Lord, she didn't. But I reckon she came close.