Love-shy

by Lili Wilkinson

  ‘A normal house in the suburbs,’ I said. ‘Nothing special.’

  ‘Why did you move?’

  ‘My parents broke up.’ I didn’t really want to talk about it.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ It really sounded as if he was. ‘And you live with your dad now? Do you still see your mum?’

  We passed a busker playing ‘Candle in the Wind’ on a ukulele. ‘No, she moved to Perth for work.’ And then, because I wanted to be honest with Nick, I added, ‘Or at least that’s the official story. The real reason is that she freaked out about my dad being gay and ran away.’

  Nick blinked. ‘Your dad’s gay?’

  I realised that even though I knew pretty much everything about Nick, he didn’t really know much about me. I nodded.

  ‘But you didn’t freak out,’ he said. ‘You stayed with your dad. You could have gone with your mum, couldn’t you?’

  Not when she left without me. I shrugged. ‘Dad didn’t do anything wrong. He was just being honest about who he is. Sure, I was surprised. But it wouldn’t be fair to be angry at him for being honest.’

  ‘That’s … amazing,’ said Nick. ‘I think I would have been more selfish about it. Angry that my family had broken up. If I’d had your family, of course,’ he added. ‘I expect I wouldn’t have nearly so many problems if my parents had broken up when I was little.’

  ‘Maybe not,’ I said.

  ‘But I mean it,’ said Nick. ‘A lot of people wouldn’t be so understanding. You’re a good person, Penny.’

  I felt a warm glow spread through my body. ‘Thank you,’ I said, genuinely flattered. I smiled up at Nick, and he smiled back, and for a moment I felt just like an ordinary girl on a date with an ordinary boy.

  ‘Do you miss your mum?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ I said shortly, but I knew that despite my resolution to be honest with Nick, I was lying.

  We paused before a florist’s shop with a wild, tangled green window display.

  ‘Penny?’ There was a little tremble in Nick’s voice. ‘How does this work in real life? With a real girl?’

  I was a little stung. ‘What am I, your imaginary friend?’

  ‘You know what I mean. Tonight has been good and I feel a lot better about the idea of … going on a date. But how do I do it for real?’

  ‘You find a girl you like, then you ask her to go out to dinner with you. Or to a movie. Or bowling. Or to a Pez dispenser exhibition.’

  ‘But what happens then?’ asked Nick.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I said.

  ‘What happens after I ask her out?’

  I blinked. ‘You go out.’

  Nick frowned. ‘But then what? At what point in the date do you move things forward? Should I try to hold her hand? Kiss her? Do I open doors for her? Buy her dinner?’

  ‘You have to figure it out as you go,’ I said. ‘You can offer to pay for her dinner if you like, but it’s probably better to split the bill on the first date, as we did tonight. And the other stuff… you just have to read her signals.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like, if she’s leaning forward and laughing and making lots of eye contact, then she probably likes you, and you could try holding her hand.’

  I couldn’t believe that I was actually giving Nick dating advice. It wasn’t as if I were the most experienced person in the world at dating. But I’d seen plenty of cheesy rom-coms with Dad and Josh, so I knew the basic rules.

  ‘And kissing?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I guess you just know if it’s appropriate. You should be able to sense it.’

  Nick didn’t seem convinced. ‘But then what?’

  ‘Well, if you decide it’s appropriate, then you kiss her.’

  Nick traced his finger over the lettering stencilled on the shop window. ‘But how?’

  ‘How do you kiss her?’ I was beginning to get out of my depth. I’d never kissed anyone either, not really.

  ‘Um,’ I said. ‘You know. You just kiss. Press your lips against her lips.’

  ‘I know that,’ said Nick. ‘But then what happens? There must be more to it.’

  Was there more to it? Was I going to screw it up? Was there stuff I should know about kissing? I thought back through all the romantic comedies, and to last weekend and the incident with Hamish.

  ‘I guess you just try to be gentle,’ I said. ‘Don’t slobber on her. Don’t lick her face.’

  ‘Tongue?’

  ‘Probably not the first time.’ I was a bit nervous about where this conversation was headed. My palms were growing sweaty, and I wiped them on my skirt.

  ‘And what do I do with my hands?’

  Nick’s face was totally open and interested, without any trace of anxiety or shyness. His hair flopped over his forehead and his eyebrows crinkled in his cute questioning way. Maybe he really was getting better.

  ‘I’ll show you,’ I said, and moved a little closer to him.

  Nick looked uncertain.

  ‘Come on,’ I said. ‘I promise I won’t bite.’

  I stepped in close to him. He smelled very clean, like laundry detergent and soap. I could feel him tense as I got closer. I took one of his hands and put it behind me, around my waist, and his other around behind my back, so his arms encircled me.

  ‘I think it’s a bit like this,’ I said, moving even closer. I could feel his heart beating so fast it was making his chest vibrate. His breath came in shallow gasps.

  ‘Um,’ he said, and swallowed.

  ‘And then,’ I said, my voice very soft. I tilted my face up towards his and put my arms around his shoulders. ‘I think it goes something … like … ’

  I closed my eyes, leaned upwards and pressed my lips against his. His mouth felt soft and cool. I tightened my arms around him, but didn’t feel him do the same to me. He was pretty nervous, I supposed. I let my lips open a little and leaned forward even further, pressing myself up against him. He felt solid and comforting, and my stomach squirmed in a really, really good way. I let my eyes open a teeny crack to see how he was responding.

  Nick’s eyes were wide open. I pulled away. He was frozen, an expression of total horror on his face. I stepped back.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘Was that too much? Too soon? I was only trying to help.’

  That wasn’t entirely true. I’d kissed Nick because I wanted to. I did want to help him get better, but I was beginning to suspect it wasn’t for lofty journalistic reasons. I wanted him to get better so we could be together. I wanted Nick to fall in love with me, the way …

  Oh.

  Was I falling in love with Nick?

  He finally spoke. ‘How dare you?’

  ‘What?’

  He was white, and shaking. ‘How dare you do that to me? How dare you touch me like that. Kiss me.’

  The happy squirming in my stomach had been replaced with an ugly, sick feeling. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You can’t do that,’ said Nick. ‘You can’t be all supportive and listen and talk to me like I’m not a total freak, and then try to screw me up by playing games.’

  ‘I wasn’t,’ I said. ‘I wasn’t playing games.’

  ‘Oh, so I suppose you did it out of the goodness of your heart. To help me.’

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. An elderly couple passed us on the street, avoiding eye contact.

  ‘Or, or, or maybe you did it because you secretly like me,’ said Nick.

  I do, I thought. I do like you. A lot.

  ‘Except you don’t,’ said Nick. ‘You can’t. You’re just like all the other girls. All those horrible blonde girls who laugh and giggle and throw their hair around as if they’re interested, but then as soon as I speak, they’re out of there faster than you can blink. Am I really that repulsive to you?’

  ‘You’re not repulsive to me at all,’ I managed.

  But he wasn’t listening.

  ‘You
don’t know me,’ he said. ‘You act like you do. You act like you understand. But you don’t. How can you know me after talking to me for a few days? You know nothing.’

  ‘I do know you,’ I told him, feeling as if I was going to cry and hating myself for it. ‘I do.’

  ‘You don’t. You’re just as bad as all the rest of them. You’re just like them. I thought things were changing. I thought I was getting better. But I’m still standing knee-deep in the water. It’s still too cold. I still can’t go in.’

  I grabbed his arm and he flinched. People were watching us from inside the cocktail bar on the other side of the street. ‘Nick,’ I said. ‘I’d never throw stones at you. I promise. You can take as long as you like to dive in. I’ll wait.’

  Nick stared at me as though I were a monster. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I said I’ll wait.’

  ‘No,’ said Nick. ‘That wasn’t what you said.’

  His face was suddenly cold and distant. I’d never seen him look that way before. He didn’t look frightened or weak or anxious. He looked furious.

  ‘You said you’d never throw stones at me.’

  Uh-oh.

  ‘How did you know that was what I was talking about when I said the water was cold? How did you know that boys threw stones at me at camp? How did you know?’

  I spread my hands. ‘Nick, I’m sorry. I was going to tell you.’

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘The loveshy forum,’ I said. ‘That’s how I found you. You were reading loveshyforum.com in the library and then I found your blog and wanted to find out who you were, so I talked to every boy in our year level. For a while I thought it was Hamish, but then I realised it was you.’

  Nick blinked. ‘In the library?’ he said. ‘That was weeks ago. You’ve been stalking me since then?’

  ‘Not stalking. Observing. Understanding. Sympathising.’

  ‘I don’t need your sympathy.’

  ‘Empathy, then,’ I said. ‘Look, it’s no big deal. But I do know stuff about you. I do know you. Because I’ve read what you said on your blog.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’d violate my privacy like that! It’s like reading my diary.’

  ‘It’s a website. A public website. When you post stuff on a public website, it’s public. I never violated your privacy.’

  ‘My posts are anonymous,’ said Nick. ‘When you crossed that line into real life, that’s when you violated my privacy.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘And I’m sorry I tried to kiss you.’

  I wasn’t sorry I’d kissed him. I was sorry he hadn’t kissed me back. This was all going wrong. Nick’s face flickered from cold to hurt and landed on cruel.

  ‘As if I care,’ he said. ‘And anyway, I can’t believe you’d ever think I’d go for you anyway. You’re so not my type. You have short hair that makes you look like a boy and you’re not even pretty.’

  ‘Hey,’ I said. ‘Back off. I wasn’t trying to upset you, okay?’

  ‘No,’ said Nick. ‘It’s not okay. And where do you get off being so all-knowing about people and relationships? You’ve never had one either. I bet you’ve never kissed anyone yourself until now.’

  I glared down at a squashed cigarette butt on the footpath, feeling tears prick at my eyes.

  ‘You act like you’re so much better than me,’ he continued. ‘Like I’m this freakish charity case and you’re my therapist, like you’ve got all the answers. Like you’re perfectly adjusted and happy in your life.’

  ‘I am happy,’ I said. ‘My life is just fine, thank you.’

  Nick had come over all nasty, red blotches standing out on his cheeks.

  ‘You’re not happy,’ he said. ‘You hide behind all the crap you do at school, the SRC and Debating and swimming and that stupid newspaper. You’ve got this crazy idea that having a good career is the only thing that matters. Well, it isn’t. People matter, too.’

  ‘I know people matter,’ I said. ‘I have people.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Of course I do,’ I said. ‘I have Dad, and Josh.’

  ‘But you don’t have any actual friends,’ he said. ‘You spend your life running around being busy, to hide the fact that you are actually totally lonely. You don’t let anyone in. You never admit you’re wrong about anything. People look up to you, and you get invited to parties and you’re reasonably popular. But that’s not the same thing as having friends. You’re just as bad as I am.’

  I had no words to reply to him. I wanted to yell and scream and call him a lonely loser freak.

  But I couldn’t. Because I was a lonely loser freak as well.

  Nick was right. I was just as bad as he was.

  16

  MS ARMSTRONG ASKED ME TO call her Janet. I didn’t. I didn’t call her anything. She sat behind her desk wearing an understanding and compassionate expression. But that was her job. She didn’t really care.

  ‘We merely want to make sure you’re not under too much pressure, Penny,’ she said.

  I didn’t say anything. The third rule of interviewing also worked if you were the interviewee. Hopefully she’d chat for the whole half hour, and then I could escape.

  ‘Is everything all right at home?’

  I managed a tiny nod.

  ‘Have you fought with any of your friends?’

  I didn’t have any friends. I’d had one, but then I tried to kiss him and ruined everything.

  Ms Armstrong sighed and made a few notes on a piece of paper. ‘Penny,’ she said, crinkling her brow. ‘I can see that you don’t want to talk, which is highly unusual, knowing what I do about you. Your teachers say that you seem distracted during class, and they’re concerned that you’re struggling with the pressure of your extracurricular commitments. You’ve missed multiple meetings of the SRC and the Gazette, you’re unresponsive in class, you haven’t been to a band rehearsal in a fortnight, and there was that whole business where you were disqualified from the swimming carnival. If you’re not willing to give me an explanation for your erratic behaviour … ’ She paused to see if I did want to give her an explanation. I didn’t.

  ‘Well, then you leave me no choice. I’ve spoken to your teachers about reducing your extracurricular load, and I’m afraid I’ll have to tell them you won’t be returning to the orchestra or the swim team. You may attend your Debating final tonight, but after that your team will need to find a replacement for you. As you’ve been elected to the SRC, we can’t make you give that up, and Ms Tidy has requested you speak to her directly about whether or not you will continue working on the Gazette.’

  Could she really do that? Make me give everything up?

  ‘Are you sure there’s nothing you’d like to talk to me about?’ asked Ms Armstrong.

  I hated her for trying to blackmail me into talking about my feelings. Well, it wouldn’t work. I stared stonily at the corner of her desk.

  ‘Then I think that’s all for today,’ she said, sliding her piece of paper into a manila folder. ‘Thank you, Penny.’

  I made my way to my locker and stood frozen in front of it, staring at the lock.

  ‘Did you forget your combination?’

  Rin had crept up beside me. She was wearing her hair down instead of in her usual pigtails, and it made her look older.

  ‘Penny? Are you okay?’

  Why did everyone keep asking me that? ‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘Just busy.’

  ‘I brought you the latest Battle Vixens.’ She produced a small book with a silver-haired girl bearing a sword on the cover.

  ‘I don’t want it,’ I said. ‘I haven’t even read the other ones.’

  Rin looked confused. ‘Oh, sorry, I thought you had. You said—’

  ‘I have to go.’ I had the sudden overwhelming feeling that I was going to cry, and I couldn’t. Not in front of Rin. She’d be all concerned, and that’d just make everything worse. Because I’d know she didn’t mean it. I’d know she was only doing it so I’d invite h
er to the next party.

  ‘Do you want to come and sit with us at lunch today?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to sit with you at lunch today.

  Just leave me alone.’

  I turned and walked away, but not before I saw Rin’s bottom lip tremble, and her eyes fill with tears. But it was better this way. Before I’d got involved with her and Nick, nothing had ever gone wrong. I was meant to be a loner.

  I wagged Maths and sat by myself in the library, staring at the scratches on a desk that proclaimed that DAMO LOVES PETE’S MUM and that KT IS HOTTT. I tried not to think about loveshyness or friendship or stupid Ms Armstrong the guidance counsellor. When the lunch bell rang, and students started to file into the library, I tried to shrink into my chair. I knew everyone was looking at me. Judging me. I’d had enough.

  I pushed my chair back, picked up my bag, and walked out of the library and straight out the front gate of the school. I didn’t care if anyone saw, or if I got detention. I was going home.

  I stayed on the couch in my pyjamas for the rest of the day. Dad came home just after five, but I didn’t get up.

  ‘Penny?’ he said. ‘Are you okay?’

  I flipped a page of Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood. ‘I’m not feeling well.’

  ‘Do you want anything? Ginger tea?’

  ‘I’m just really tired.’

  ‘Do you want me to stay home tonight? I have that Plumbers Association Gala Dinner thing, but I can cancel.’

  I shook my head. ‘I’m okay.’

  Dad nodded and wandered into his room. My phone chirped a message and I glared at it. Whoever it was, I wasn’t interested.

  Chirp, chirp.

  Then it buzzed around on the coffee table with a call. I ignored it. It chirped again to indicate there was voicemail. I turned it off. The home phone rang.

  Dad came out of his room, an indigo and silver tie loose around his neck, and picked up the phone.

  ‘Penny?’ he said after a moment. ‘It’s someone called Hugh. He wants to know when you’re planning on turning up to your Debating final.’

  Crap. I glanced at my watch. The debate started in half an hour. I could still make it.