by J. C. Burke
‘With the “cousin relationship” assignment where it gives Beatrice and Hero as the example, does it matter if the cousin relationship is actually a boy and a girl?’
‘Not at all,’ Gideon replied, ‘as long as there’s enough information to make comparisons and contrasts with Hero and Beatrice. Put it on a chart. Give us photos. Girls, I want this particular assignment to be more about you and how your life fits into Much Ado. I’m not talking about the plot. I’m talking about all the varying relationships we come across in the play. When we’ve finished Much Ado about Nothing, I want you all to walk away knowing that studying Shakespeare is not old-fashioned and irrelevant. The language may be different, but the plots and characters are not. I think you’re starting to get an idea of that.’
As Gideon selected the roles for Act Three, I noticed the girls in the desks in front of me passing a bit of paper. No doubt a note for someone. In primary it used to get me down that the little screwed-up ball of paper that passed through multitudes of sweaty palms would never be for me. So when the girl in front of me dropped a folded piece of paper onto my desk and said, ‘Holly, it’s for you’, I almost fainted.
Carefully, I opened the delicate corners and read: DID YOU GET THE PRESSIE I LEFT IN YOUR BAG? I HOPE YOU DIDN’T TAKE IT THE WRONG WAY, BUT SINCE YOU JUST MENTIONED YOUR SKIN I THOUGHT MAYBE THAT MEANT YOU KNEW IT WAS FROM ME. SHINE FREE IS THE BEST. JX
My fist closed around the note. Jess Flynn had put that foundation in my bag! I held onto the ball of paper, squeezing it tighter and tighter till it had almost disappeared into the hollow of my palm.
I couldn’t look up. I stared at the text in front of me until the words began to blur. Was Jess being mean? Was Jess being nice? But why would someone like Jess Flynn be nice to someone like me? She was probably making fun of me. But if she wanted to do that then she would’ve handed me the bottle in front of everyone.
Plop. Another note landed on my desk. I pushed the ball of paper underneath my book and opened the new one.
I WANTED TO DO SOMETHING FOR YOU COZ I KNOW YOU’RE THE FAIRY WHO’S PUTTING TREATS IN MY BAG. I’VE BEEN GIVING THE CHOCCIES TO MY COUSIN COZ HE’S A CHOCAHOLIC. I’VE HAD THE MOST HUMUNGOUS HOLE IN MY TOOTH AND MY DAD HAS TOTALLY BANNED ME EATING ANYTHING SWEET EVER, EVER, EVER AGAIN. BORING, EY? BUT THANKS ANYWAY. JXX
A fairy? Me? A fairy! I don’t think so.
The panic was soaring up through my toes, along my legs, into my guts and out of my mouth. ‘Ahh.’ I heard a squeak escape from my tonsils.
How did Jess know it was me dropping the sweets in her bag??
I wanted to throw up; I wanted to scream, to run, to get out of this classroom and never ever return to St Clemmie’s.
How? How? Had Jess seen me? Had someone else seen me? I was certain there was no way I could stuff up this time. The plan was foolproof, idiot proof. I buried my face in my hands. But that was it. I was more than a foolish idiot and even more than an idiotic fool. In fact I must’ve been the dumbest, stupidest, most pathetic specimen on earth.
Gideon’s voice was getting closer: ‘“The devil my master.” That’s how Borachio refers to Don John. “The devil my master.”’ I looked up to see her at my desk. ‘Do you think Borachio’s description is fair, Holly?’ She stood there staring down at my book. Next to it lay Jess’s note. Quickly, I swiped it under the cover. ‘We’re towards the end of Act Three, Holly, page 65, please.’
‘Yes, Miss.’
‘Act Three is important, girls, as the play progresses from a comedy to a potential tragedy. I need you all to pay attention.’
Gideon leaned on the wall, one knee cocked up against my desk. I got the feeling she was going to be parked here for the rest of the class. ‘So is Borachio’s description fair, Holly?’
‘Yes,’ I mumbled. You didn’t have to be Einstein to figure that out. Don John was the baddy and Borachio was his stupid lap dog. Like, duh!
‘I don’t like Borachio,’ someone called out. ‘If Don John’s the devil then Borachio’s the devil’s helper.’
‘Fair comment,’ Gideon said, collecting her knee and making her way to the front of the classroom. The air returned to my lungs. ‘I want us to finish Act Three before next class.’
Gideon glanced at her watch and groaned. She was obviously not a fan of chapel. I didn’t like it but I didn’t hate it either; it was good for a nap. ‘We don’t have time to perform up the front, girls. Just read from your desks. Holly, could you please play Beatrice?’
But today I wanted to be invisible. I wanted to be left alone so I could sit quietly and let the panic consume me.
Jess thought I was her fairy? Her fairy! What was I going to tell Calypso?
The minute the bell rang for chapel Jess was at my desk, chattering like she’d just inhaled a lungful of helium gas. ‘You’re not offended I gave the lollies away, are you? I didn’t want to. I’m a total sugar addict. That’s why I keep getting holes in my teeth.’
I shrugged. I could hardly look up let alone speak to her.
‘You are offended, aren’t you? Oh Holly, I’m sorry. It’s just that, well … if I ever have to get another filling my dad will seriously kill himself.’
Why wouldn’t she get out of my face? Couldn’t she see I didn’t give a toss about her father, his career and the suicidal tendencies of dentists?
‘It costs so much and my dad said …’
‘It’s fine, Jess.’ Anything to shut her up. ‘Really, it doesn’t matter.’
Of course I wasn’t going home via the newsagency. No point now. The owners would notice my absence as they counted their takings for the day. I’d probably become their best schoolgirl customer; and for what? My planting practice had gone pear shaped. Jess thought I was a fairy and Calypso would know I was a failure. Whichever way you looked at it, it was lose–lose.
Instead I wandered through the mall. If I was going to Daydream Island then I needed a new bikini. But now that was my new worry: as if I needed another one. Would I still be invited? Maybe stuffing up the planting would be the last straw. Maybe this time Calypso really would give up on me and our friendship and Daydream Island and everything!
But I couldn’t bring myself to think like that. I would do whatever it took to still go on that holiday. Anything.
According to Isabelle and Saskia, who obviously considered themselves fashion experts, Lipstix had the best bikinis in Sydney. I overheard them, well eavesdropped really, as they discussed the mix and match system the owner Pixie had created. It was worth investigating, just to check out if their tastes were up their bums like the rest of their personalities.
As my mum would say, ‘credit should be given where credit’s due’ Lipstix was the most beautiful shop I had ever seen. There wasn’t one single skanky thing about it. The walls were papered in pink and orange stripes. Layers of beads, sorted into colours and lengths, were draped across the shelves. And from the ceiling hung gigantic cutouts of Hawaiian girls in grass skirts. Even the air held a hint of frangipani and coconut.
I stood there; my heart pattering in my chest, my jaw gently resting on my knees. The shop was almost too beautiful to enter. Honest. This place was more than a shop; this was a potentially life-changing establishment. This was the mecca of glamour.
Being careful not to touch anything, I walked towards the bikini display.
‘Hello,’ a voice said.
‘Hello,’ I answered.
‘How are you today?’ It was the sales assistant.
‘Good thanks,’ I murmured, my fingers brushing across a pair of shiny aqua-blue bottoms.
‘Are you looking for a bikini?’
‘Mmm.’
‘Would you like me to explain the Lipstix mix and match system?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘The top section has our basic separates.’ Her voice was soothing. That and the scented air made me feel like I was falling into a trance. ‘You can put together whatever combination you want. The bottom rack is from Pixi
e’s own range.’
‘Mmm.’
‘But the price is based on the most expensive piece.’
She selected a black boob tube with pink flamingos on the front. It was stunning. I’d kill to be able to wear it, but I wouldn’t get away with it. Calypso would. I could see us lounging around Daydream Island with all the other girls looking jealous as the guys watched us walk to the edge of the pool.
‘This piece is $88,’ she said. ‘If you selected these bottoms to go with it …’ Her pink nails flicked along hangers of green and pink lycra. Suddenly out from behind a pair of silver bikini bottoms popped a big, round, white plastic security tag! The assistant’s fingers dug around for the price tag, while mine landed over my mouth. Calypso said Lipstix didn’t have security tags!
‘These stupid things!’ the assistant huffed. ‘They’re such a hassle. We’ve never needed them before. But thanks to those with light fingers we’ve had to tag every article in the shop. It’s very sad.’
Sad? She didn’t know just how sad. Calypso’s revenge plan had yet again encountered a humungous obstacle. In fact, not simply the revenge plan but the climax. The crescendo. The ‘it ain’t over till the fat lady sings’ part of Jess Flynn’s punishment had just bellyflopped with a pike!
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: A state of emergency
Calypso
We have a crisis. A serious one. Lipstix now has security tags. I went there today and saw them myself. What are we going to do?
I can’t help thinking this is fate, Calypso. Perhaps now you have to plan a little revenge on Scott. You know I don’t think it’s fair that he escapes completely from your plan. He hurt you and he deserves to be hurt back. Now it seems like the only thing left to do.
I don’t exactly know what but perhaps I could spread some rumours … We’re studying that in English. I’ll take a few tips from Shakespeare.
I could just accidentally on purpose say something to Jess like ‘I saw that guy Scott with his tongue down someone’s throat who I could’ve sworn looked identical to Saskia’. I’d like to see her face when I said that! Actually it’s not a bad idea as it would hurt them both! Please think about it. I hate it that Scott just gets away with doing that to you.
I know it’s a super bummer about Lipstix but at least we found out beforehand about the security tags.
I saw a bikini that you would look soooooooo divine in. I could get it for you for Daydream?? Like a thank you for taking me there.
Okay betta go now. Got stacks and stacks of study. Mid-years coming up too. BLAH!!!!!!!!
Lotsaluv
HolXXXXXX
Talk about the good Lord being on my side today. The fact that Lipstix now had security tags meant the entire ‘planting practice stage’ had become defunct; which meant Calypso didn’t have to know that Jess found out it was me putting stuff in her bag. Yeah!!!!!!!!!!!!!! In fact, I felt like going back to Lipstix and hugging the lady for putting on the security tags. Or better still, finding ‘those with the light fingers’ and hugging them for making my life so simple!!!
I wasn’t saying the revenge plan was off. I was just steering it in another direction. Towards Scott! It was time to pay out on that two-timing, sleazy (but rather good-looking) ratbag. Things were looking up.
‘Bugger. I forgot the napkins,’ Mum said at dinner. ‘Why can I never just sit down and stay seated?’
‘I’ll get them.’ I jumped up, feeling like the perfect daughter. ‘Does anyone want a drink while I’m there?’
‘Well, you’re a delight this evening,’ Dad called. ‘Grab me another lager, will you?’
I handed Dad his beer, placed the napkins around the table and sat back down. I couldn’t stop the smile stretching across my cheeks. It felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders.
Calypso hadn’t replied to my email yet, but there was nothing else she could suggest. Nor could she be mad with me ’cause it wasn’t my fault Lipstix got the security tags. Hopefully all that was left was a bit of rumour spreading, and my job was done.
Goodbye, Sydney. Hello, Melbourne. Aloha, Daydream Island.
‘You seem happy tonight, Holly,’ Dad smiled.
‘Yeah, I am.’
‘Now’s probably the right time then.’ He nodded at Mum and she nodded back. ‘Holly, I have good news. It looks like we’re going to stay in Sydney … for good.’
‘What?’ I dropped my fork. ‘What? Stay here? In Sydney? No!’
‘But, I thought you’d be happy?’ Dad frowned. ‘It means never having to move schools again. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?’
‘But you … you said we were going back to Melbourne.’ The air was being sucked out of my lungs. ‘You, you promised. You promised!’
‘But I didn’t say it was for sure, Holly.’
‘You did! He did, didn’t he, Mum?’
‘And we’d only be back in Melbourne for six or so months. Then we’d have to pack up and move again.’
‘No!’ I gasped. ‘I don’t want to stay here. I, I hate Sydney. I hate St Clemmie’s. You lied. You said we were …’
‘Holly.’ Mum was folding her napkin for the one-hundredth time. ‘It’s not definite yet. Is it, dear?’
‘Well no, not exactly,’ Dad replied. ‘But it’s a wonderful opportunity for all of us, Holly.’
‘No it’s not!’ I spat. ‘It’s not a wonderful opportunity. It sucks and, and I’ll never forgive you, either of you, if you make me stay here. Do you hear me? I hate you. I hate you both.’
I knocked over my chair, threw my napkin on the floor and stomped, as loudly as was possible in bare feet on carpet, down the hall and into my room; finishing with an ear-shattering slam of the bedroom door. This time I did hear a picture fall to the floor.
‘Good,’ I snarled. ‘I hope it smashed.’
Sydney! Staying in Sydney. Living here forever. Going to St Clemmie’s with that bunch of stuck-up plastics. Not me. I wanted Melbourne and Calypso and Daydream Island and friends and … this was without doubt the worst day of my life.
I threw myself onto the bed, dug my toes into the mattress and headbutted my way up against the wall. I bit the pillow, twisted the sheet around my wrists and sobbed. ‘I want to go back to Melbourne,’ I blubbered. ‘I want Calypso.’
Outside my bedroom door I could hear the muffled whispers of my parents, mixed with the sound of broken glass being dropped into a bag.
‘Holly?’ Mum crept into my room and perched on the edge of the bed. ‘Darling, it’s not definite, us staying in Sydney. Your father’s waiting to hear back about a job.’
‘I don’t want to stay in Sydney,’ I mumbled through the pillow over my head. ‘I want to go back to Melbourne.’
‘But darling, remember you weren’t happy in Melbourne.’
‘Yes I was!’ I sat up. ‘I was happy. I had a friend. A best friend, for the first time ever, and you and Dad knew what that meant to me.’
‘But you and Calypso only became friends a little while before we left.’
‘So? What does it matter how long we were friends for? We formed an instant bond. Instant!’ I clicked my fingers. ‘And now you’re asking me to give that up.’
‘But if you made friends with Calypso then doesn’t that tell you that you can make friends with girls here in Sydney? It’s a chance for you,’ she said to me. ‘A chance for all of us to settle down.’
‘You don’t get it, Mum,’ I told her. ‘There is no one else like Calypso.’ I sighed, my chest aching with pain. ‘I haven’t told you yet, but Calypso has invited me to Daydream Island for a week. She won the trip in a competition. She wants me to go with her. Me! By the way, her grandparents are going too so there’s no need to freak out.’
‘Oh?’ Mum’s forehead crinkled like tissue paper. ‘I didn’t think Calypso had any grandparents.’
‘How would you know?’ I snapped. ‘Of course she doe
s.’
‘Well,’ Mum stood up. ‘Being in Sydney doesn’t stop you from going to Daydream Island with Calypso. If she really has won this trip.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ Mum was really pissing me off now. She was about to be banished from my room for good. ‘Of course she’s won the trip. What, you think she’s just invented it?’
‘I don’t know, Holly.’ Mum sighed. ‘I just came in here to tell you Sydney’s not definite – yet. But it would be nice to be settled in one place. That used to be what you wanted too.’
‘Why can’t we settle in Melbourne?’
When Mum got to the door she turned and said very softly, ‘Don’t put all your eggs in one basket, Holly. There’s plenty more fish in the sea.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I called after her.
But she’d already closed the door and was gone.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: RE: A state of emergency
Hol
Well like you said it’s a bummer about Lipstix getting security tags (I wondered when that dumb Pixie would figure it out) and yeah it’s lucky you found out before BUT I DON’T WANT YOU DOING ANYTHING TO SCOTT OR JESS. JUST FORGET ABOUT THEM AND GET IT OUT OF YOUR HEAD. OKAY??????!!!!!!!
Anyway seeing you’re such a planting expert I have a fantastic idea that solves everything.
Okay, here goes. Plant some $$$$ in Jess’s schoolbag – say at least $200. You’ll have to do it on a Monday arvo for two reasons. One – you’ll have your schoolbags outside the classroom as sport is last period and two – Ms Kalina is the best teacher to report it to coz she’ll go psycho and check all the bags. She’ll probably do a body search too!
So … you plant the $ in Jess’s bag at the beginning of the arvo then last period you scream ‘Oh no, my $$$ has been stolen!’ You’ll probably cop a lecture from Kalina how you shouldn’t have brought that much money to school but it’ll be worth it when Kalina pulls the cash out of Jess’s bag and everyone turns to look at her. I wish I could be there. Maybe you can snap it for me on your phone??? Pwetty pweeeaase.