Pieces of Sky

by Trinity Doyle

He held his arm as if I actually hurt him and hammed it up further by limping out to the car park.

  He continued to limp over to Dad’s blue Lexus and beeped it open.

  I shot Cam a doubtful look. ‘Does he know you have this?’

  ‘Of course,’ he said, sliding behind the wheel. But the smug look on his face said otherwise. ‘He told me to come get you . . . he didn’t say how.’

  I chucked my swim bag in the boot and got in next to him. After the number of dings Cam added to his own hunk of junk Dad revoked all Lexus privileges. ‘He’s gonna freak, you know that right?’

  Cam ignored me, cranking up the stereo and assaulting my ears with Aussie hip hop.

  ‘I miss the eighties,’ I said, sighing.

  Cam peeled out of the swim centre, squealing the tyres. ‘What?’ he shouted over the music.

  I turned it down. ‘Your hip hop phase is the worst.’

  ‘I shall convert you.’ He turned it back up, moving his head to the beat. ‘You need this in your life.’

  The car flew down Lake Road and Cam burned past the turn off for the Bay.

  I smacked his arm. ‘You missed the turn.’ He didn’t respond. I lowered the volume again. ‘Earth to Cameron Taylor. You going the long way home?’

  The road wound up through the reserve and Cam took the turns too fast.

  ‘Cam!’

  He white-knuckled the steering wheel. ‘Don’t you ever just want to go fast, Lu?’

  ‘No. I want to go home. Dad is gonna kill you.’

  He sped up. The edge of the bush blurred past my window.

  ‘Slow down, idiot. We’ll crash.’

  He did slow down—but only for the T-intersection for the freeway.

  ‘No! Turn around, Cam, turn around!’

  He didn’t respond, didn’t even flinch. Just watched the traffic and waited for a break.

  ‘I want to go home!’ I unbuckled my seatbelt and went for my door. At that moment Cam turned onto the freeway and accelerated way over the limit.

  I started crying, fumbling to get my seatbelt back in.

  Cam dodged around semi-trailers and flashed his lights at an L-plater.

  ‘Cam!’ I wailed, beyond caring that I was crying in front of him—tears and snot down my face. ‘Cam!’

  Eventually my yelling got through and Cam startled back to himself.

  ‘Jesus,’ he said, slowing down. ‘Jesus. Fuck. I’m sorry.’ He pulled onto the shoulder and cut the engine. ‘I wasn’t thinking. I forgot you were here, Lu.’ He leaned over the steering wheel and closed his eyes.

  I wiped my face and swallowed against my dry throat. ‘Can we go home now?’

  ‘Think you’ll go in many races?’ Auntie Deb pulls me back to the present.

  ‘I dunno,’ I mumble, staring out the window.

  ‘I always loved backstroke,’ she says, ‘all that time on your back just staring at the sky. It’s nice.’

  ‘The pool’s indoors,’ I say.

  She pulls into the car park. It’s awash with kids from school, parents and teachers.

  Cam scared me that day he picked me up. I never told anyone what happened and we didn’t talk about it. But I always wondered what was going through his mind.

  ‘Want me to stay?’ she asks.

  I look at her. ‘No.’

  ‘I don’t know what your problem is with me,’ she snaps, ‘but you need to get over it.’

  My problem is you and you being here and this whole screwed up thing. But I don’t say that, I just get out of the car.

  Deb drives off and I’m left standing at the entrance to the swim centre. Two boys with their hair sprayed blue walk past—some kids get really into their house colours. I trail them into the foyer where Mr Matthews is telling everyone to find their house head and get their name marked off.

  The carnival’s never much in the way of actual competition. Apart from Megan, Alix and me there are only a few other kids from squad that go to school in Port—the rest go to Towra. But we have fun, facing off in each other’s pet events and talking smack. It’s when you get through Zone and make it to State that things get good.

  I make it all the way down the hallway, past the gym and the change rooms, past the posters for the Meredith to South West ocean race—over a month away; if I don’t go in that race what would people think?—and onto the pool deck.

  There are people everywhere. Mr Stevens—the head of P.E. and my house—is walking around with a megaphone announcing the rules and yelling at the Year Seven boys to stop running.

  The morning two weeks ago plays through my mind and makes my pulse drum. I know I won’t be getting in the water, won’t be counting my blue ribbons and trying to blitz Megan at her event. I can’t risk it—not in front of my whole school.

  I duck behind Stevens as he continues to yell at the boys through the megaphone and spot Alix near the stands. Her cheeks are striped with blue zinc and she hugs me tight as soon as she sees me.

  ‘Hey, enemy,’ she says, giving me a wicked blue-cheeked grin. Alix is in Egret and I’m in Snipe. Our houses are the top two and the competition is fierce. Megan is in Plover—which we always find hilarious—they’re pretty dreadful, but not as bad as Heron. By some alphabetical fluke Heron is mostly filled with potheads who tend to ditch the carnival so their house always comes last. Jeremy, Steffi and Evan are all in Heron and I can’t see them anywhere.

  Megan is on the other side of the pool, surrounded by a sea of yellow. She thinks I’m aquaphobic—a big, official diagnosis of a word I don’t want or need.

  Mr Stevens continues to march the perimeter of the pool deck, terrorising kids with his megaphone. I keep my head down. If Stevens spots me he’ll be incredibly pissed I’m not competing. The other girls in Snipe aren’t as fast as me. It’s gonna suck to see my house get dragged down.

  I take a deep breath. ‘I don’t think I can do this,’ I say to Alix.

  She puts her arm around me and rubs my shoulder. ‘You can just watch,’ she says.

  I stare down at her swim bag. ‘What’s wrong with me?’ I whisper.

  ‘Nothing,’ she says, pulling me into a side hug.

  ‘LUCY TAYLOR,’ booms a crackly voice. Stevens clicks off the megaphone and marks my name off his clipboard. No—what if he tries to make me race? To him I’m still the swimmer who won every race last year and took his house to glory.

  ‘It’s gonna be okay.’ Alix steers me towards the cement seat. ‘I’ll be right back.’ She hurries over to Ms Dyer and talks to her with jittery hand gestures.

  I grip my elbows and lean forward. I’m not sure what Alix is saying but I really hope it’s not the truth.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and blink at the screen.

  Are you at the carnival?

  I don’t recognise the number.

  Who is this?

  Your sexiest friend

  The reply has a row of kissy-face emoticons.

  My mind remains blank.

  STEFFI

  Yeah I’m here

  Boo! Meet us on the street in 20.

  Why?

  Just do it

  I tuck my phone away when Alix comes back. ‘Ms Dyer’s gonna talk to Mr Stevens for you.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  She shrugs. ‘That you’ve been getting dizzy spells and probably shouldn’t swim.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I say.

  ‘Of course,’ she says and sits beside me.

  I pinch the skin on my elbow. The first race—Under 13s boys’ fifty-metre freestyle—is called to the marshalling area.

  I can’t be here; I can’t watch this. I show Alix the texts.

  ‘First of all,’ she says, handing it back, ‘I hold the title of sexiest friend.’ She snorts at her own joke and I laugh. ‘And second: are you gonna go? When did you guys start hanging out?’

  ‘We’re not really, but she was at that party the other night and . . . well, I dunno.’

  Alix frowns and gna
ws on her lip. ‘Okay,’ she says, then smacks her knees, getting excited. ‘Okay. I will help you.’

  ‘Al—’

  She holds up her hand. ‘We’ll get our stuff and make like we’re going to the change rooms. Then I’ll distract Mr Matthews and you can escape.’

  I gape at her. ‘You can’t be serious. I mean, I want to leave but I can’t. We’d get in so much trouble! The right thing to do is to stay here.’

  ‘Is that what you want?’

  The buzzer sounds and the boys dive into the pool. I drop my eyes to my hands.

  ‘Don’t worry about me,’ Alix says. ‘I’ll tell Ms Dyer you were so sick that your mum came and got you.’ She grabs her swim bag and stands up. ‘Come on. She’ll be there soon.’

  Walking down the hallway, my heart barges into my throat wondering how Alix will distract Mr Matthews. But when we get to the foyer he’s not there. Nobody is there.

  I turn to Alix. ‘What do we do?’

  She links arms with me. ‘Go. Go. Go,’ she says, pulling me towards the door. Outside, Mr Matthews is rounding up a bunch of kids in the car park.

  I swear under my breath.

  Alix ducks around the side of the swim centre. ‘What are you doing?’ I hiss.

  ‘We wait until he’s inside, then cut through the fence.’

  ‘You’re coming with me? What about your events?’

  Alix shrugs. ‘I’d rather come hang out with you.’ She peeks her head round the corner. ‘It’s clear,’ she squeaks. I can’t get her in trouble as well.

  ‘Let’s go back,’ I say.

  Alix grabs hold of my shoulders and pushes me towards the fence. ‘Nope.’

  We scramble into the bushes lining the chain link fence. Alix hunts for a weak spot that we can push our way under. ‘Got it,’ she says and shoves her bag through.

  We crawl under it, scraping dirt on our white shirts. The sharp prongs of the fence scratch over my calves and when I dust myself off I find a thin trickle of blood running into my sock. I rub at it with my bag.

  ‘You okay?’

  ‘Fine,’ I say and we sprint through the reserve and onto the road.

  ‘Oh my God. Oh my God,’ I pant. ‘I can’t believe we did that!’

  ‘I know!’ Alix says, catching her breath. ‘Your leg!’ She points at it and I look down to find it still bleeding. ‘Did that happen on the fence?’ She unzips her sports bag and pulls out a Bandaid and a tissue.

  ‘Not an adventure unless there’s blood,’ I tell her.

  ‘Megan’s gonna have a conniption,’ she says, fixing up my leg.

  I shrug. ‘Maybe Plover will finally win.’

  Alix stares at me and we burst into giggles. She wipes a tear from her eye and smudges blue zinc over her cheek and up to her temple. ‘Oh no.’ She looks at her fingers. ‘Is it bad?’

  I grab another tissue from her bag and rub at it but it just makes it worse. I wet the tissue with my drink bottle and manage to get most of it off. Half of Alix’s face is only slightly blue.

  A red car barrels off the road in front of us and skids to a stop.

  ‘Jesus,’ Al says.

  ‘That’s them.’

  She laughs. ‘Of course it is. Wait,’ she grabs my arm, ‘do you think Jeremy Haines is there?’

  ‘Um, it’s pretty likely.’

  ‘Okay,’ she says, ‘okay.’

  I frown at her. ‘What’s going on?’

  She chews her lip. ‘Nothing, nothing.’

  Up ahead the car horn beeps and Jeremy stumbles out of the passenger door.

  Alix gives me a pained, wide-eyed look. ‘Do I look okay?’

  ‘Of course. You’re a goddess . . . even with blue skin.’

  She groans and touches her cheek. I take her hand away and lead her to the Sunbird.

  Evan pops the boot and we load our bags in on top of skateboards and random car tools.

  I squish next to Steffi in the back seat.

  ‘Nice shorts,’ Jeremy says to Alix as she climbs into the back. Pink flushes under her blue and brown skin.

  ‘Um, this is Alix,’ I say.

  Jeremy smiles. ‘I know.’

  ‘You know me,’ she blurts.

  He laughs. ‘Sure.’

  Evan looks back at us, his eyes hidden behind black Ray-Bans.

  ‘Hey,’ I say, tucking my fingers under my thighs.

  ‘Hey.’ His voice is flat and he turns back to the wheel. Jeremy pushes the front seat back and climbs in.

  ‘Ev’s got the shits,’ Steffi says as he pulls onto the road.

  ‘What are we doing?’ I ask.

  ‘Yeah, Stef. What are we doing?’ Evan says then turns the music up so he can’t hear her. Steffi kicks the back of his seat.

  Jeremy turns the music down. ‘We’re hitting the skate park, right?’

  ‘That park sucks,’ Evan says. ‘Ramps are tiny and it’s packed with scooters.’

  I bristle. Our park’s not great, but it’s where Cam taught me to drop in.

  ‘Well, let’s drive to freakin Bondi so you can be happy,’ Steffi snaps.

  ‘We could head in to Towra,’ Jeremy says.

  ‘Sure. If you lot pay petrol.’

  ‘Stop being an arse,’ Steffi says.

  ‘This was your stupid idea.’ Evan rubs the back of his neck.

  Next to me, Alix twists the hem of her shirt and bites her lip. I link my arm through hers and clear my throat.

  ‘I know somewhere we can go.’

  ‘This is the bush, Lu,’ Steffi says when we pull up.

  ‘We’re going in the back way.’

  We climb out. The boys grab their boards from the boot and I reach in for Cam’s—I made them go past my house on the way here. I’d been ready with a feeble story of the carnival finishing early if anyone at home caught me. But Deb’s car wasn’t in the driveway and Mum was nowhere to be found.

  ‘Okay,’ I say, ‘follow me.’

  I push through the underbrush and head for the makeshift dirt track. Evan trudges behind me and the others follow him. He hasn’t said much since his outburst about the skate park.

  ‘Much further?’ he asks.

  ‘Should be almost there.’ It’s been a few months since I’ve been out here and the bush has grown and changed. I’m sure it’s this general direction though. A burnt stump tells me I’m on the right track.

  ‘Just over here.’

  I lead them over a dirt hill and into a manicured garden.

  Native plants grow around the base of tall palm trees. The garden is filled with smooth stones and a small creek runs through it. The path is made of recycled wood and bumps into a tiny bridge over the water.

  Jeremy looks around, his mouth slack. ‘Where are we?’

  ‘Well,’ I bite back a smile and tilt my head, ‘this—’

  ‘This that new resort place they’re building,’ Steffi says. ‘Eco Springs.’

  ‘They were building,’ I say. ‘It’s been put on hold.’

  Cam and Ryan used to skate here. Picking the times when the builders weren’t around. I’ve only been here once, with Cam. I tuck his board under my arm and walk onto the path.

  ‘Um, are you sure?’ Alix hesitates, concern all over her face. ‘What if there’s, like, security or something?’

  ‘Oh,’ I rub the back of my neck, ‘I’m not sure—’

  ‘Then we’ll run really fast,’ Jeremy says, jumping ahead of me.

  I give Alix a pained smile. ‘It’ll be okay.’

  She nods and we walk together.

  The path winds through the different cottages and juts off in various directions labelled by street signs: Paradise Lane, Possum Close. We end up in a massive courtyard. Instead of smooth concrete the ground is uneven slate and stones. It would be underwhelming if not for the pool in the centre of it.

  The empty pool.

  Jeremy peers over the edge. ‘This place is awesome.’

  I smile. ‘Told ya.’

  The pool is a la
rge kidney shape. One end is set up for a waterfall and the other sections off into a spa. This whole place is set up to be tranquil but the unfinished details give it an unnatural, manufactured feel.

  Jeremy balances his board on the edge of the pool. ‘I’m feeling very Lords of Dogtown right now.’ He laughs and drops in. Jeremy carves through the corner but loses it and the board flies out, almost getting him on the head as it falls. I wince.

  ‘Shit.’ Evan laughs. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Peachy.’ Jeremy scrambles up the other side.

  Evan drops in. He carves perfectly, pumping through the corners and picking up speed. He works his way up the pool and grinds along the edge, even doing a standup grind—which is freaking hard on a corner.

  I stand on the edge and pick at the sticker on the back of my deck.

  ‘Shut up,’ Jeremy says when he’s done, fist bumping him.

  Then it’s my turn.

  I drop in and stick to what I know: carving. I hug the wall and keep horizontal, just like Cam taught me, leaning in with my shoulder and picking up speed.

  I never got to be much good at skating or surfing. I could never relax: always felt pushed to the edge. Maybe it’s cos I have to put my trust in something. In swimming I’m in control; I know my body, know how much I can take. If I stop it’s because I’ve stopped, not because I got knocked off my board.

  ‘Not bad,’ Evan says when I’m done. He’s looking at me like he’s trying to figure me out.

  ‘Shut up,’ I tell him. ‘I’m amazing.’

  He laughs, the tension he was carrying easing off him. I did that, I think.

  Jeremy goes again and does slightly better. Cheers echo out from the spa, where Steffi and Alix are watching.

  Evan yells stuff out like: ‘Find your line,’ and, ‘don’t go too high too soon.’ He tugs at the rubber band bracelet on his wrist and gives a sympathetic wince when Jeremy wipes out again.

  Jeremy brushes himself off, gives us the thumbs up then jumps into the spa with the girls.

  ‘Do you wanna go?’ Evan nods at the pool.

  ‘No. It’s your turn,’ I say, tying my hair back.

  Evan frowns and it bugs me. Can’t he see there’s an order?