Can't Say it Went to Plan

by Gabrielle Tozer

  ‘You are brave,’ Kiko says. ‘What about the haunted house?’

  Dahlia shrugs. ‘A one-off.’

  ‘Well, you saved me. And next time, remember that. Do the thing you think you can’t. Take the smallest step.’

  ‘That’s the problem — there are so many things,’ Dahlia says. Her hand reaches to tug at a strand of pink hair but she catches herself. ‘I wouldn’t know where to begin.’

  ‘Start with the one thing you can’t stop thinking about.’

  Stillness hangs between them. It’s so weighty Dahlia feels like she could reach out and pop it with a pin.

  ‘I loved today,’ she admits.

  ‘I thought you might have.’ Kiko reaches into her wallet and pulls out the pictures from the booth. She turns on her phone light. In all the photos, they’re huddled in close, knees and shoulders touching, with beaming smiles. ‘Evidence, see.’

  ‘Shut up,’ Dahlia says with a giggle.

  ‘Your smile is radiant,’ Kiko says. ‘You look so happy.’

  Dahlia stares at the photos of them wedged in close, arms and legs twisted together in a flurry of poses. ‘I guess I do.’

  ‘So, are we doing it?’ Kiko asks.

  Dahlia’s heart nearly stops. ‘It?’

  ‘Joining Florence and the boys in the water.’

  ‘Oh, right.’

  ‘It’s on Stevie’s list, and you said you wanted to be brave.’

  ‘I don’t think I can,’ Dahlia says. ‘I could barely change out of my gym clothes at school.’

  ‘It’s all good, lady. We’ll stay here.’

  ‘I don’t want to hold you back.’

  ‘I’m where I want to be,’ Kiko says with a soft smile. She sits and buries her bare feet beneath the sand. ‘This is nice.’

  ‘Looks it.’ Dahlia shifts from foot to foot, drawing an infinity loop in the sand with her toes. Her heart flutters.

  Before she can change her mind, she peels off her sundress. Now all she’s wearing is a mismatched bra and undies. It’s thrilling.

  Kiko breaks into a grin. ‘Are we going in?’

  ‘I’m not,’ Dahlia admits, still pacing from side to side. ‘But this is a small step, right?’

  Kiko looks up at Dahlia for what feels like a long time. The air is warm but Dahlia is shivering.

  ‘Hey, you’re shaking,’ Kiko says.

  ‘I feel strange. Like I’m out of my body. Or on another planet.’

  Kiko jumps to her feet and pulls off her T-shirt, revealing a sports bra and bare belly. ‘There. Now there are two of us on your planet.’

  She’s so close Dahlia can see the tiny mole on her collarbone and hear her breath catching. Kiko reaches out, lacing their fingers together.

  Dahlia edges in cautiously, like she doesn’t want to make a sudden move that might risk splintering this moment into reality. Their toes kiss in the sand.

  Kiko gently traces her fingers over Dahlia’s cheek. ‘Is this okay?’

  Dahlia nods.

  Kiko leans in and brushes her lips against Dahlia’s. They’re soft and warm, sending fizzing sparks through her body.

  But just as quickly, Kiko pulls away. ‘Sorry,’ she says. ‘I don’t want to rush you.’

  Dahlia softly cups her face. ‘I said it’s okay.’ Her voice is barely a whisper.

  She pulls Kiko towards her and this time they sink into the kiss. The ocean swells behind them as they lace together, mouths moving as one, breath tangled.

  Even when they break apart, they stay close, fingers entwined. Dahlia leads Kiko down to the sand, and they sit together, Kiko resting her head on Dahlia’s shoulder.

  ‘Is this even real?’ Dahlia murmurs. ‘Where have you been all this time . . .?’

  Kiko gives a little shrug. ‘Here. But you see me now.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me? I had no idea. Florence is going to freak out.’

  They’re so close the tips of their noses are touching.

  ‘I doubt it, let’s just say you’re the last person in the universe to know,’ Kiko murmurs. ‘And Florence is right: you do ask a lot of questions. Now kiss me again before you think of anything else.’

  Zoë

  Day 3: 3.11am

  Someone is shouting Zoë’s name. Blood rushes to her head as she peels off her eye mask. They call out again. It’s one of the boys, but she can’t tell who.

  Yawning, she stumbles in the dark down the hallway and through the kitchen, fumbling to find the light on her phone. She follows the sound of her name until she reaches the balcony. Her jaw drops at the sight of Akito whimpering and swearing as he writhes on the ground, his arm bent at a disturbing angle. Prakash kneels beside him and Darius is there too, calling out Zoë’s name.

  ‘Oh, you’re up!’ Darius exhales in relief. ‘Akito fell. You’ll know what to do.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Zoë’s surprised to see him in their suite. ‘What’s going on?’

  Akito lets out an anguished moan. ‘Zo!’

  Zoë crouches down to inspect his contorted arm.

  ‘Is it broken?’ Prakash asks, gagging.

  ‘I think so. Or dislocated,’ Zoë says. ‘He needs a doctor urgently.’

  ‘Can’t we wrap it up?’ Darius asks. ‘Don’t you know this stuff?’

  Zoë rolls her eyes. ‘I’ve done a week of work experience.’ She gently touches Akito’s shoulder. ‘Everything is going to be alright but it’s time to get you to a doctor. Right now.’

  She turns to the boys. ‘Make yourselves useful and help him up.’

  Darius’s eyes are wide. ‘Then what do we do?’

  ‘Isn’t it obvious? Take him to a hospital. We’ll get a ride out front.’

  Prakash stands a little taller. ‘Zo, we’ve got this, you go back to sleep. Sorry you were woken up — it’s been a massive day.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Zoë says.

  Akito moans as Darius helps him walk through the apartment.

  Zoë grabs Prakash by the elbow. ‘You alright? Especially with trainwreck Darius in tow.’

  He winks. ‘If he gets his way, we’ll sort it and be back in time to party.’

  ‘What even happened?’ she asks. ‘Akito fell over?’

  ‘Five words: breakdancing on the balcony table.’

  Zoë shakes her head. ‘Natural selection at its finest. I still can’t believe that boy’s going to be an engineer.’

  Samira

  Day 3: 4.09am

  Samira wakes up sweltering on the couch in the Peachies’ living room. She kicks off the blanket that Tilly had given her earlier and reaches for her phone, but the battery is drained. The moon glistens through the window as she tiptoes around the darkened room for a charger. No luck.

  She wanders through the kitchen and finds a charger wedged beside the kettle. Her phone reboots and the loading screen lights up. It’s 4.12am. She squints out the window to the courtyard and sees the mound of grey ash from the exorcism. It wasn’t a dream.

  Her stomach churns. It had been a joke at first, but now it feels like something real went down in those hours. She wonders if maybe Tilly’s outrageous ritual did help in some way. That maybe everything will work out in the end.

  ‘You okay?’ Tilly’s whisper breaks through the dark. ‘I haven’t placed a hex on you, have I?’

  Samira offers a wry smile. ‘I’m under the Peachies’ spell.’

  ‘Do you think Zain’s gone? Banished?’

  Samira pauses. ‘I can’t explain it. But something feels different.’

  Different is an understatement. Last night she became a Warrior, and stood in the courtyard with a Queen, a Pirate and a Robot burning the belongings of her ex-boyfriend.

  ‘This is amazing. It worked!’ Tilly enters the kitchen, her Alotta Peach bangles jangling on her wrist. ‘We have to celebrate. What are you doing right now?’

  Samira laughs. ‘Don’t you ever sleep?’

  Her phone flashes and she glances down. The screen is full of
notifications from Anoush. Three missed calls and a flood of drunken messages riddled with spelling mistakes and exclamation marks.

  sammira, were r u???? i’m back fform club

  ym phone died!!!!

  thoght you hmoe to bed

  (at th beach house not actually homee!!!!!!!!)

  dan here on couch (im in love)

  call me k

  Samira’s stomach lurches. ‘I better go,’ she tells Tilly. ‘It’s my friend.’

  ‘All good,’ Tilly reassures her.

  Samira hesitates. ‘Can I say something weird?’

  ‘I love weird.’

  ‘It feels like we’ve known each other for ages.’

  ‘I know! I had so much fun.’ Tilly grins. ‘But I shouldn’t say that, should I? Not when it was a whole dramatic ex-boyfriend situation.’

  ‘I had fun too,’ Samira says. ‘I’ll see you around.’

  ‘Hope so.’

  Samira slips out the sliding door and tiptoes across the courtyard, cringing at the cold tiles beneath her feet.

  The lights are out when she enters the beach house, but she can make out pizza boxes cluttering the kitchen bench and the sleeping bodies of people scattered through the lounge room. A rattling snort comes from a guy dozing in an armchair in the corner and she stifles a giggle as she creeps up the stairs.

  Samira opens the door to the bedroom and freezes. Anoush and Dan are fully dressed and lying on top of the covers. Their limbs are entwined and they are snoring softly. One of Dan’s sneakers rests on a folded pile of Samira’s clothes on her side of the bed.

  Sighing, she closes the door and creeps back down to the lounge room. She uses her phone light to scan the darkened space and squeezes into an empty spot on the couch beside a boy who is splayed out and drooling on a cushion. With her knees pinned to her chest, Samira closes her eyes and falls into a restless sleep until the sun rises.

  Zoë

  Day 3: 9.38am

  Facts dart through Zoë’s pounding head. Humans are bioluminescent. Some tumours grow their own hair and teeth. Chloroplasts enable photosynthesis. There are about two hundred and seventy bones in the body at birth. Potassium chloride is an ionic compound soluble in water.

  She groans and flips the pillow over to the cool side. Everything feels unbearable.

  ‘Morning!’ Luca swans in and flops onto the bed beside her. ‘Violet thought she heard stirring in here.’

  ‘What time is it?’ Zoë murmurs, fumbling for her eye mask.

  ‘Twenty to ten,’ he says with a yawn. ‘The boys got back from emergency a few hours ago.’

  ‘How’s Akito?’

  ‘Dislocated it, broken it, can’t remember.’

  She swings her legs over the side of the bed, wincing as the back of her throat burns with bile. ‘We should check on him. He was in a bad way.’

  ‘It’s alright, Dr Russo, he’s sleeping it off,’ Luca says. ‘Prakash had it all under control. Check the chat. It was like minute-by-minute commentary.’

  Zoë gives a wry smile. ‘Prakash was turning green when I saw him.’

  ‘They’ll be sleeping for ages,’ Luca says. ‘Should we hit the pool? I can’t be bothered walking so I’ll arrange some golf buggies to drive us after breakfast if you want?’

  Zoë flops back on the bed and pulls the pillow over her head. ‘Make the call. I’m so tired that I can’t even remember where the pool is.’

  After visiting the decadent breakfast buffet, where Zoë could hardly look at the food, let alone eat it, the cousins arrive at the Grand Southwell’s tropical pool and swim-up bar. It’s surrounded by lush green plants, palm trees and sunlounges.

  Violet sits on the side of the pool and dangles her toes in the water. Zoë and Luca slide in, flinching as the cold stings their skin. Moments later, Darius bombs into the water, spraying it over the girls.

  Violet squeals. ‘Stop it!’ She points at the No Diving Or Bombing sign by the pool. ‘You’ll get us kicked out.’

  ‘Or mess up your hair?’

  ‘Whatever. I thought you’d be asleep after last night’s excitement.’

  Darius grins. ‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Plus, you texted me. So what are we up to? Truth or Dare?’

  Zoë groans. ‘It’s too early.’

  ‘I’m in,’ Luca announces.

  ‘Me too,’ Prakash calls out, walking down the path with a towel over his shoulders.

  ‘Aren’t you exhausted?’ Zoë asks. ‘How’s the patient?’

  ‘Sleeping it off. His arm’s broken in two places.’

  Zoë’s eyes widen in shock. ‘Poor guy.’

  ‘I, however, am excellent, thank you for asking.’

  Zoë splashes water at him but sends a wave in Violet’s direction instead. Violet screeches as droplets drip from her hair.

  ‘You’re all dead in Truth or Dare,’ she threatens before diving beneath the surface.

  ‘I’m out,’ Zoë says. She yawns, slips out of the pool and curls up on a sunlounge, half-listening to the others playing the game as she drifts in and out of sleep.

  Luca admits he kissed someone at the foam party yesterday. He can’t remember his name, only that he ended up with his chewing gum in his mouth.

  Prakash downs a mug full of tomato sauce, orange cordial, water, salt and pepper from the breakfast buffet before spluttering it everywhere.

  Violet crab-walks to the towel stand and back, getting plenty of confused stares from people milling about the pool.

  Darius removes his board shorts, gives himself a wedgie and walks over to an unsuspecting older gentleman settling onto a sunlounge and says in a fake posh accent, ‘Sorry to interrupt, dear chap, but do you have the time?’

  Luca reveals he has a favourite sibling but insists he’ll never say who.

  Darius admits he once cheated on a school essay by paying his sister’s friend to write it. He got the second-highest mark in the class, which set off alarm bells for the teacher but they couldn’t prove it.

  That jolts Zoë awake. ‘You did what?’ she calls out from her sunlounge.

  ‘Look who’s finally joining us,’ Darius teases. ‘Wasn’t my finest moment.’

  ‘Didn’t you feel guilty?’

  Violet waves it off. ‘Let’s not make a thing of it.’

  ‘Fine, but it seems like a thing to me,’ Zoë says with a shrug.

  ‘Don’t worry, you’re still the smartest person we know, Tiny Sloth,’ teases Luca.

  ‘It’s pretty bad,’ Prakash agrees. ‘What’s the worst thing you’ve done, Zo?’

  ‘Not sure.’ Zoë pauses. ‘When I was seven I told the girl across the street that she couldn’t play with my favourite doll. She cried. Like, full-on sobbing.’

  ‘You were seven, it’s fine,’ Luca scoffs.

  ‘We need to get a few more naughty items on that list,’ Darius says.

  Zoë wrinkles her nose. ‘I did this.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Darius asks. ‘Fall asleep after drinking one and a half lolly waters?’

  ‘No!’ Zoë bristles. ‘This.’ She gestures around at the resort. ‘Coming here.’

  Luca whistles. ‘Tiny Sloth is a fugitive. She risked it all.’

  ‘And here she is, lazing away this opportunity,’ Darius says, pulling out a tiny flask from his pocket and holding it towards Zoë. ‘Swig?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she says, dismissing the offer with a flick of her wrist. ‘After last night, I can’t even look at alcohol without wanting to vomit.’

  ‘If you won’t, I will,’ says Violet, reaching over for the flask and taking a quick mouthful.

  ‘Join us for Truth or Dare at least?’ Darius presses Zoë.

  ‘Fine,’ she says with an eye roll. ‘Truth. Please.’

  Prakash grins. ‘Lovely manners, Zo.’

  ‘Have you ever picked your nose and eaten it?’ Violet fires at her. ‘Do you fold or scrunch toilet paper? How many times did you and Prakash kiss when you were kids?’

&nb
sp; ‘Gross! I fold. And mind your own business.’

  Darius slaps Prakash on the back. ‘Player.’

  ‘We were eleven,’ Prakash says with a snort. ‘It was barely two kisses.’

  ‘Someone give me a dare then,’ volunteers Zoë.

  ‘That’s more like it!’ Darius says. ‘I dare you to cartwheel over to those girls putting on sunscreen and squeal, “I believe in fairies”.’

  ‘That’s so ridiculous,’ says Luca.

  ‘Ridiculously perfect,’ adds Violet.

  It’s been years since Zoë has done a cartwheel. But at least it isn’t a nudie run around the pool. She adjusts her swimsuit. ‘I’ll do it.’

  ‘Didn’t you nearly break your neck during gymnastics?’ Luca asks. ‘And that was only a forward roll.’

  Zoë pulls a silly face. ‘Don’t make me bring up your attempt at cricket, Luca.’ She stretches her arms and shrugs her shoulders. Her head still throbs. She takes a quick sip of water. ‘And no photos, Violet.’

  ‘I don’t make promises I can’t keep.’

  The sky turns upside down as Zoë cartwheels towards the girls. Once, twice, three, four, five times she spins. Behind her, the others wolf-whistle and cheer her name. She lands in front of the girls, almost tipping backwards onto the hot concrete. Red-faced, she regains her balance, then leaps into a lopsided star position.

  ‘I believe in fairies!’ she squeaks.

  The girls’ jaws drop. One of them clutches her tote a little tighter.

  ‘You’re high, right?’ the other girl whispers, leaning in closer. ‘Can you hook us up?’

  Zoë’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘I’m sober.’

  The first girl chokes back surprise and places her tote on the ground. ‘I don’t know if that’s better or worse.’

  Zoë’s friends scream with laughter.

  She whips around to face them. ‘Whatever! I did it! Everyone can get off my back now!’

  Suddenly she feels a lurching in her stomach. Her throat burns red-hot. She scans the tropical pool area for a bin, a patch of dirt, anything, but there’s nothing but lush greenery, manicured bushes, spotless tiles and metres of crystal blue water.

  Panicked, she lunges forward and sprays the girls’ legs with chunks of bright orange vomit.