But as I reach the doors, the dome is suddenly quiet. It is as though a beekeeper has doused the hive with smoke. I step through the doors and, as they close behind me, I am struck by how dark it is inside. I lick the sweat off my top lip and blow my new fringe up off my face while I wait for my eyes to adjust to the gloom.
Dust motes dance on the beams of sunlight streaming through the small windows in the doors behind me. I blink the spots from my eyes and scan the crowd for my friends. A hundred and twenty faces stare over at me. I search for Elfi, Rochelle and Jed beckoning me over to a saved spot in the throng.
Someone blows into a microphone. I look up at the stage beside me. A female teacher is standing there, looking cross. I remain glued to the worn timber floorboards as I search for a familiar face.
‘Sit down in your allotted group, please,’ the teacher says.
My allotted group? I’m too nervous to remember being allocated to a group.
‘Hurry up,’ the teacher says. I take a step forward, but my vision is still blurry like I’m underwater.
‘What is your name?’ the teacher demands.
‘Paige,’ I say. My voice is hoarse.
‘Payne?’ she says, scanning the lists in front of her.
‘Paige,’ I repeat.
‘Speak up,’ the teacher says. ‘Let us know who you are.’
‘My name’s Paige,’I say loudly. I remember Shelly’s silly joke. ‘As in Read It and Weep,’ I add lamely.
A few kids gasp, and some others titter.
I cringe on the inside. Did I really say that?
‘Paige … Winfrey,’ the teacher declares, turning to the final page in her stack. ‘You’re in Group B.’ She points to the back of the hall.
I begin to scurry in that direction.
‘And I’ll see you in my office at lunchtime,’ the teacher adds.
‘Four reasons you might get expelled on the first day of high school,’ I say to my friends glumly after the assembly. We are standing outside the bubblers in the quadrangle unofficially reserved for first-year students. Double-storey buildings, each labelled with a large black capital letter, surround a concrete basketball court. Hundreds of kids scurry up and down stairways and along the balconies that look out over the quadrangle. A narrow strip of grass and a row of leafy trees line one side of the court. A large clock is mounted on the brick wall of Block D.
‘Being late,’ Jed says.
‘Wearing a really short skirt,’ Elfi says, tugging at my hem.
‘Telling the deputy principal to read it and weep,’ Rochelle says. ‘What’s that all about?’
‘It’s just something from my holiday,’ I say.
‘What else happened on that holiday?’ Rochelle pinches me on the waist. ‘You lost half your body and half your hair.’
And half my parents, I want to add.
‘We didn’t recognise you,’ Elfi says. ‘You look so different.’
‘Speaking of different,’ Jed says, consulting his timetable and school map. ‘We’re all in different classes this year, so we’d better get going. It sucks that none of us ended up in home room together.’
We all look down at the mass of papers in our hands and up at the clock. We turn in four separate directions.
Suddenly, I stop and look back at my friends. They have also stopped. Something is not right. We run back together for a hug.
‘Track three!’ Elfi declares, thrusting her palm into the middle of the hug.
‘Track three!’ Rochelle echoes, slapping her hand on top.
‘Track three!’ Jed says, grinning at me.
I throw my hand down on the other three but, as I do, images of blank Passport pages fill my head. And then Claire, the Queen of Clairvoyance’s words haunt me. If you are to survive the changes, you must change, too.
I can’t bring myself to say the words. As always, no one notices I have not joined in. They also didn’t notice I missed my turn at giving a reason for being expelled on the first day of high school. But today, instead of being grateful, this annoys me. I don’t know why.
At that moment the in-class bell clangs above our heads and, without wriggling our fingers up in the air and slamming them down in a hand sandwich, we race off to begin our high-school lives.
It looks like I’m the only one who realises we didn’t finish the ritual.
14
I stop outside a thick wooden door with a glass panel. Room Seven. My home room. What did Claire, the Queen of Clairvoyance, say about the number seven?
I take a deep breath and open the door. Once again, I am met with stares from my classmates and a disgruntled teacher standing at the front of the room, scanning a list of names.
‘Hey, it’s Paige,’ says a strangely familiar-looking blonde girl in the back row, ‘as in Read It and Weep.’
I sneak a sideways glance at the girl who made the comment. She smiles at me.
And so do a few of the others. Another girl removes her bag from the chair beside her and indicates for me to sit.
‘That’s not a very nice way to talk about a fellow student,’ the teacher says to the blonde girl.
‘But that’s how she introduced herself to Mrs McKenna at assembly just now,’ says a boy with messy brown hair.
Mrs McKenna must be the name of the teacher who wants to see me at lunchtime, I think.
‘Really, Nick?’ says our home room teacher. He sounds disapproving.
I gulp, wishing I was a million miles away from this high school. I’d like to be back on Bloodstone Beach. I wonder how Shelly is doing at her school this morning.
‘Well, Paige, as in Read It and Weep,’ the teacher says, ‘I’m Mr Reyne, as in Don’t Rain on My Parade. And now, because you were late, you can tell us a bit about who you are.’
I look down at my new leather shoes, already scuffed at the toe, then back up at the sea of faces. I recognise Stacy Lawler and Cat Stanley from my class last year. They are busy doodling on their new pencil cases, not looking at me. But some of the kids I don’t know are staring at me curiously. It feels weird.
‘Um, well, I went to Juniper Bay Primary,’I begin.
Mr Reyne nods encouragingly. ‘Excellent. And so tell us who you are now.’
My mouth moves but no sound comes out.
‘I’ll make it easier for you,’ Mr Reyne says. He smiles. ‘Tell me what you did in the holidays.’
I think about Bloodstone Beach and Shelly. It was a great holiday, though the caravan park wasn’t too luxurious. But even Fliss enjoyed it in the end.
Mr Reyne coughs, bringing me back to the classroom.
‘Um … I spent a month at … juvie,’ I blurt out. ‘I mean, that’s what my sister called it, but …’ I trail off. The silence in the classroom suffocates me.
The kids and Mr Reyne stare at me.
Mr Reyne walks to my side and whispers, ‘I’m sorry, Paige. I didn’t know.’
What did I say that for? My legs start to wobble. I can’t breathe. ‘No …’ I try to explain. ‘I … I …’
‘Shhh,’ he says. ‘You’d better sit down.’
I sink into a chair at the front of the classroom. I can feel the other kids’ eyes boring into my back.
Mr Reyne calls the roll. I don’t listen to the names. I only hear mine. I am last, as usual.
‘Okay,’ he says, putting the roll in the top drawer of the desk. ‘Look around you. These are the people with whom you will be spending your entire year. Get to know each other.’ He sits down at his desk and puts his feet up. Then he takes a curriculum folder out of his bag and starts to read.
I duck my head down and stare at the graffiti carved into the desk. Dylan loves Felicity, the desk says. I wonder if it is my Felicity. Probably. Everybody loves my sister. She never says anything stupid.
The kids around me start to talk and introduce themselves to their neighbours. Nobody talks to me. After my crazy comment, they’re probably scared that I’ll steal their lunch money.
There
is a commotion at the back of the room. ‘No way!’ says Nick, the boy with the messy brown hair.
‘It’s true,’ says a pretty black-haired girl. ‘Sidney is the Starshine Girl.’ She is pointing at the blonde girl who had identified me as I entered the room. The girl has her arms crossed and is frowning at her friend.
Everyone, including me, turns to stare.
‘Mi-ff,’ the blonde girl whines.
‘People will recognise you eventually,’ Miff says.
The blonde girl sits up, then tosses her smooth hair over her shoulder. She has lightly tanned skin with a smattering of freckles across her nose. Her sapphire eyes are ringed by long black lashes and charcoal eyeliner. She smiles a movie-star smile. ‘Okay. I’m Sidney,’ she says eventually. ‘And, yes, I’m the Starshine Girl.’
So that’s why she looks familiar. She’s the star of my favourite toothpaste advert on TV.
‘But it’s no big deal,’ Sidney adds.
No big deal! I’m so excited, I forget all about the stupid things I said earlier. I’m in the same class as the Starshine Girl. I can’t wait to tell Elfi, Jed and Rochelle.
15
‘Paige!’ someone shouts as I head for the cockroach hole at first break. I turn and look for my fellow cockroaches but instead I am confronted by the Starshine Girl.
‘Come and sit with us,’ Sidney says, beckoning me over to the patch of grass her group has claimed under a leafy tree.
I look behind me, thinking she must be talking to someone else.
‘Yes, Read It and Weep,’ Sidney calls. ‘You.’
I cautiously walk over to the group of three girls sitting at Sidney’s feet. Nick and a few other boys from our home room are lounging nearby and they look over curiously as I approach.
‘This is Paige.’ Miff, the black-haired girl, introduces me to the two girls I don’t know. ‘This is Brooke and Mandi,’ she says to me. Then she turns to the girls and says, ‘You met Paige at assembly.’
‘Oh yeah.’ The pretty Chinese girl, Mandi, nods. ‘What a way to start high school. You certainly let that Mrs McKenna know who you are.’
‘I … I didn’t mean to be rude to her,’ I stammer.
‘Rubbish,’ Sidney says. ‘You told us in home room that you spent a month in juvie. I bet you talk back to teachers all the time.’
‘Really?’ says Brooke. She has shiny brown hair the length and thickness of a horse’s tail. It is pulled back and tied loosely at the back of her neck.
‘Yes, I really said that,’ I admit.
Sidney laughs. ‘Mystery girl, Paige. Sit down.’ She smiles her Starshine Girl smile. She is so pretty and cool. I sink to the grass.
‘So what else did you do all summer?’ she asks.
Cried about my parents splitting up. Cried about my empty Passport. Ate chickpeas and climbed mountains just to talk to my father for a minute. ‘Um … I spent it up the coast,’ I say. I’m so shy of these girls, my voice is coming out as a whisper. ‘You know, swimming, snorkelling, hiking, bodysurfing——’
Sidney mishears me. ‘You can surf?’ she says. ‘That’s cool! I wish I could surf. Then I could hang out with some really cute guys.’
Before I can correct her, Miff asks me a question. ‘Did you meet any nice guys?’ she asks. ‘Surfie guys?’
Nick must have been listening in on our conversation because he suddenly butts in. ‘Hey, we can surf,’ he says, indicating himself and the three other boys from our class who are sitting nearby. ‘Flynn here is a legend.’
‘A legend in his own mind,’ snickers Jay, one of the other boys.
‘Speaking of minds,’ Miff says. ‘Mind your own business. We weren’t talking to you.’
‘Ouch!’ says the fourth boy, Liam. The boys shrug, jump to their feet and walk off to play basketball.
‘So,’ Miff says again, ‘did you meet any surfie guys?’
I think of Felicity’s boyfriend, Jack, and his friends. They surfed all day, every day. Shelly and I would watch them from our mermaid rock. Sometimes Shelly would shout out to Jack, trying to distract him, as he’d swoosh past on the crest of a wave.
I smile at the memory, fingering the bloodstone pendant around my neck. It seems too hard to explain I was just bodysurfing. ‘Yeah, there were some nice surfie guys there,’ I say.
‘Ooh,’ says Sidney. ‘Sounds like someone had a summer romance.’
I smile again. ‘Well, not really …’ I say.
‘Tell us all about him,’ the girls shriek.
I rack my brain for details about Jack. ‘Well, his name is Jack and he’s sixteen.’
‘Sixteen!’ the girls chorus.
‘Yeah,’ I continue. ‘He’s won all these junior pro-surfing tournaments. He travels around the country going from comp to comp. He’s really good.’
‘So what does he look like?’ Brooke asks.
‘Well, he has long hair that’s bleached by the sun and it’s always messy. And he is really tanned, of course.’
‘Sounds hot,’ Miff says. ‘Any friends?’
‘Yeah, he was camping with three other guys—Shane, Tex and Spock.’
‘So when can we meet him?’ Sidney says. ‘And his friends?’
‘Um, well, he did say he was coming down this way in about a month. He said he’d drop by.’
‘Did he give you that cool pendant?’ Miff asks.
‘No, another friend from up there gave me this.’
‘Jeez, Paige, how many boyfriends did you have?’ Sidney says. ‘But that’s okay. I guess a girl like you would have lots of boyfriends.’
I am about to laugh, because I suddenly realise that they think Jack was my boyfriend. But then the second part of Sidney’s words hit me.
‘What do you mean, a girl like me?’
‘Cool, of course!’ Sidney says. ‘You must have ruled your school last year.’
The Starshine Girl thinks I’m cool! I can’t believe I’m having such a crazy first day of high school.
‘So tell me about you guys,’ I say. But at that moment the bell clangs.
‘We’ve got Maths now,’ Miff groans, consulting her timetable. ‘I’ve heard Mr Handler is mean. Instant detention for anyone who talks in class.’
‘Meet back here at lunch, then,’ Sidney says. It is not a request, more of a command. But I don’t mind. The Starshine Girl wants to see me again. I wonder if she is the stylish, fair-haired girl that Claire, the Queen of Clairvoyance, said would bring happiness to my life. I hope so.
I’m about to say I’ll be back at lunchtime for sure, when I remember something. ‘I … I don’t know,’ I mutter apologetically. ‘I’ve got to see that Mrs McKenna first. She might put me on detention or something.’
‘Well, let us know what happens,’ Miff says. ‘Good luck.’
‘Yeah, good luck,’ the other girls chorus. Sidney squeezes my arm.
Just then I look up to see Elfi and Rochelle staring at me from the balcony above the cockroach hole. I raise my hand and wave at them, but Mandi, the Chinese girl, high-fives it.
‘Read It and Weep, Paige,’ she says.
Rochelle and Elfi turn away.
‘Paige Winfrey,’ Mrs McKenna says. She stares at me from across a desk the size of a football field.
‘Mrs McKenna,’ I answer. I hope it is the correct answer. I’m not completely sure there was a question.
‘Let’s try that again,’ says Mrs McKenna. She stands, sighs, and then leans forward over the table. ‘Paige Winfrey.’
‘Mrs McKenna?’ Suddenly I’m not so sure of her name. Maybe I’ve got it wrong. Am I pronouncing it right?
‘Yes, Mrs McKenna!’ Mrs McKenna roars.
‘Yes, Mrs McKenna,’ I reply.
Silence.
Mrs McKenna walks to the coat stand in the corner and puts on her jacket. ‘I know your type, Paige Winfrey,’ she says as she buttons it up. ‘You’re a troublemaker.’
My mouth falls open with surprise. Me? A troublemaker?
; ‘You think school is too boring and too slow and taught by teachers who are too old.’
I start to shake my head.
‘You’re smart, you’re pretty, and people sit up and take notice of you,’ Mrs McKenna continues.
I nearly burst out laughing.
Mrs McKenna stares at me. ‘You think it’s funny, do you?’ she says. The left side of her face starts to twitch.
‘Um, yes …’ I try to explain. ‘I’m nothing like that at all. Maybe you should read the transcripts from my last school.’
‘Read It and Weep, you mean? I don’t need to read it. You identified yourself as soon as you walked in late to that assembly hall, wearing that short skirt and giving me cheek.’
‘I … that’s not really me. I lost some weight and my skirt didn’t fit any more … so my sister——’
Mrs McKenna holds up her palm and shuts her eyes. ‘I don’t want to hear it. Just know this, Paige Winfrey. I’ll remember you. And I’ll be watching you. Now go.’
I try to scuttle from the office. But, in my hurry, I bump into the filing cabinet and trip over the rubbish basket by the door. I kneel down and scoop the screwed up papers back into the bin. I glance back to see if Mrs McKenna is watching.
She isn’t.
I head off in the direction of the cockroach hole, scurrying as usual with my head down, hoping no one notices me. But I can’t stop thinking of Mrs McKenna’s words. I am the ‘Read It and Weep’ girl. I am a troublemaker. I am … smart and pretty. How could she have got it so wrong?
Two girls leave a classroom and walk down the corridor towards me.
‘Hi, Paige,’ the taller girl says.
I stop, dumbfounded. Do I know this girl? Is she someone I met years ago at ballet or Little Athletics or tennis, or at any of the other activities my parents tried and failed to get me interested in over the years?
‘How’d you go with Mrs McKenna?’ the other girl asks.
‘Yeah, she’s a bit of a cranky old biddy for the first day of school,’ the first girl adds.
Give Me Four Reasons Page 9