by R. M. Corbet
Nobody cares, Maude McNaughton.
Closing the dance hall had only intensified the party atmosphere. Boys were drinking openly now. Some were throwing up openly in the bushes while their girlfriends sadly looked on. In some cases, it was the girl throwing up, with the boyfriend sadly looking on. Some girls were chasing each other barefoot. Some boys were singing footy club anthems. Some girls were hanging in their boys’ arms. Some were keeping their boys standing upright. The school vice-principal was wandering through the midst of it all, saying, ‘That’s enough, ladies. It’s time to go home.’
Phoebe and Simon were there on the lawn. They held hands as they watched us arrive. Phoebe showed us the door prize she’d won, after Simon had bought half the tickets. What she would do with the brass plate, she hadn’t decided.
‘It would make a great gong!’ Lou admitted.
‘How was the gig?’ Simon asked.
‘They rocked!’ I said.
‘Did you rock?’ asked Phoebe.
‘She sure did,’ laughed Lou.
‘How about the ball? Where’s Bianca, and Shauna?’
‘It’s a long story,’ said Phoebe.
Things had not gone as smoothly as some might have hoped. Following Bianca’s decision not to pass on Alison’s wishes to Shauna, Alison had texted Shauna’s date, the Neanderthal, in regards to a comment Shauna had recently made about his IQ (or lack thereof). The Neanderthal had promptly ditched Shauna and gone off with Bianca’s boy, presumably to get drunk and smash things. Shauna was heartbroken, naturally, and Bianca was mostly in shock.
She and Shauna had then both exchanged texts with Alison, who, in the process, had managed to recall several mean things that Bianca and Shauna had said about each other. Bianca and Shauna had clashed, resulting in a three-way stalemate, with each girl not speaking to the others.
‘It sounds very complex,’ said Lou.
‘You have no idea,’ I said.
What made it even more complex was that Shauna and Bianca were now boyless. This meant that every boy at the ball was a potential target, regardless of who they had come with. Shauna was desperate. She was running out of time. Thus, she had targeted the one boy she knew was a guaranteed pushover: Andy.
‘Andy and Shauna? Is that them over there, on the lawn?’ I gasped.
The four of us looked on in wonder at the sight of the two of them rolling around on the grass. It felt like everyone had suddenly stopped to watch them. Even the vice-principal.
‘Shauna! Stop that at once!’ she said. ‘I thought you would have known better!’
Lou and I were still laughing when I realised he had taken my hand.
‘Sorry I wrecked your whole night,’ he said.
‘How’s that?’
‘For starters, we never had much time to dance.’
‘We danced. We gigged. We saw people throw up. It went pretty much like I thought it might go.’
‘I thought it might be more romantic,’ he said.
‘The night isn’t over yet, is it?’
He looked slightly taken aback. ‘Who are you and what have you done with my childhood sweetheart?’
I had never been called someone’s sweetheart before.
closer
GOING HOME ON THE BACK of the bikes was huge fun. Watching the city lights slipping past fast, grinning at Lou as his bike overtook mine, shouting out over the rumbling engines, then turning to watch the bright lights again. The bikies drove safely and carefully. They kept to the speed limit and obeyed all the rules of the road.
I’m joking, of course.
They dropped us off at the end of our street. We stood arm-in-arm as we watched them ride away. Whether they were off on some nefarious adventure or going home to bed, who knew?
Willowbank Road was deserted. The house lights were off. All the neighbours were sleeping. Every lawn was piled high with junk for the hard-rubbish collection – mysterious objects laid out tantalisingly in the darkness as we walked by – but Lou hardly bothered to notice them.
‘They’ll still be there tomorrow,’ he told me.
Out on his front lawn, the stray cats were prowling. They watched us arrive with their emerald eyes shining. As we sneaked down the side of Lou’s house we heard music. Out the back by the barn there was a small camp fire burning. Miles and his mate were strumming guitars. Ivy and Ella were singing. Jill and the others were toasting marshmallows.
It looked like fun, but it wasn’t what we’d been expecting.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Lou. ‘I know somewhere we can be alone.’
He grabbed a kerosene lamp from the house. The tree house was hidden in shadow, and nobody paid us much notice as we climbed up the rickety ladder. Inside, the hard floor was covered in blankets. My old blankets, from my bedroom cupboard!
‘Hope you don’t mind,’ said Lou.
‘I’m glad they found a good home,’ I said.
The old tree house creaked as we climbed up inside. It felt smaller, with less room to move. The main beams held firm, but the big tree had grown. There were cracks in the walls and the floor tilted slightly. A large branch had come through the roof.
‘Is this safe?’ I asked.
‘It’s been standing for years.’
‘You don’t think it needs . . .’
‘. . . a few extra nails . . .’
‘. . . here and there?’
‘I’m willing to risk it.’
‘Me too.’
We set up the lantern and made ourselves cosy, then we sat looking out at the night.
Ella walked past and saw us up there.
‘I’ll bring you some green tea.’
‘How about some hot chocolate?’ said Lou.
With our view of the rooftops and mugs of hot chocolate, it felt like the best place to be in the world. The sound of girls singing and clunky guitars. A wind chime softly clanging by the tree-house window.
There was nowhere I’d rather have been.
‘All those sleepovers we had here,’ I said.
‘Whenever you talked about running away . . .’
‘. . . I’d come here . . .’
‘. . . and we called it a sleepover, instead.’
‘I was a bit . . .’
‘. . . reckless?’
‘Or lonely,’ I sighed.
Lou nodded slowly.
‘You’re not planning on running away tonight, are you?’
I buried my face in my hands. ‘Actually, I told Mum and Dad . . .’
‘. . . not to wait up?’
‘That I might stay the night.’
‘For a sleepover?’
‘If that’s okay?’
The light from the lantern made flickering shapes on the wall. We re-did the blankets to keep ourselves warm, then Lou moved so we could be closer. It had been such a big night, but neither of us was the slightest bit sleepy.
‘Those guitars are so out of tune. Do you think I should climb down and tell them?’
‘What? And leave me here? You wouldn’t dare!’
‘I’d be back in a minute.’
‘Some things are meant to be played out of tune. Don’t you know anything about music?’
He smiled. ‘So, Maude. Are you ready to join our band yet?’
‘Maybe I’ll wait till you’ve played some more gigs.’
‘I’m not sure if pubs are the right place for us.’
‘You could play at school dances, instead.’
‘Maybe we will.’
‘Maybe you should.’
‘I’m sure it would be . . .’
‘. . . educational?’
We were both smiling now.
‘Hey! I’ve got something to show you,’ he said.
He reached outside the window and unhooked the wind chime hanging there. It was made from the rusted old U-bolt I’d found by the creek. It made a soft clang when I hit it.
‘You went to our spot?’
‘I went to find you.’
; ‘But I wasn’t there.’
‘They chopped down our tree, Maude . . .’
‘. . . but planted some new ones.’
‘When the new trees are grown . . .’
‘. . . we could go back . . .’
‘. . . together.’
Lou’s face was so close now. His eyes so familiar. I could feel his warm breath on my lips.
This is it, Maude McNaughton. This really is it.
I moved towards him as he moved towards me. The tree house creaked gently beneath us.
‘Are you sure we’re safe?’ I whispered.
‘It feels safe,’ he murmured. ‘After all, we both built it to last.’
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
AS A TEENAGER, ROBERT CORBET constantly fell in love with blonde girls called Michelle. At university, he always fell for clever girls with long velvet dresses and short, dark hair.
Finally he met a girl in pink overalls who rode a motorbike.
After a long, agonising courtship, they bought a station wagon, had three children and were happy ever after.
His other books with Allen & Unwin are Fifteen Love (Girlfriend Fiction #15), The Passenger Seat and Shelf Life.