I return to my digging, forgetting all my frustrations, just happy to listen.
Next thing I know, Oliver’s sitting between Lucy and me, drawing shapes in the dirt with a stick.
‘So,’ he says, and I feel his eyes on me. I look up, my heart beating fast. ‘What do you think of our little country town. Is it humble?’ He quotes Mr Peterson. ‘Or quaint, charming …?’ He has a cheeky glint in his eye.
‘Love it,’ I say. But for some reason, I don’t feel like pretending.
‘Well, not everything,’ I confess. ‘It is different to what I’m used to, and it’s bloody hard moving in with my aunt and uncle, especially my aunt, who insists on calling me ‘sweetie’ a thousand times a day; it’s starting to make me nauseous!’ Why am I telling him all this? Get it together!
‘I got a dog last week,’ I say brightly. ‘My first one.’ I pull out my phone. ‘Want to see her?’ He pauses.
I’ve gone too far. He asked me a simple standard question and here I am giving a presentation on my life to date. Time machine, now!
‘Sure,’ he smiles, inching closer so we can both see the screen. His thigh brushes mine. I feel goosebumps on my arms. This is crazy. Okay, I haven’t had a boyfriend yet, but I’ve been around guys and never had this reaction. I find the photo of Bella on my phone and show it to him, the same one I’d posted on Instagram on the first day we found her.
‘She’s such a beauty,’ I say, thinking of her big, sparkly eyes, full of love and adoration, and her rich black fur that I stroke every night as she cuddles up in bed with me. We practically spoon.
‘I’m crazy about dogs,’ he says, which makes me inordinately happy. ‘But that’s weird,’ he pauses.
Not quite the reaction I was hoping for. I hope he’s not going to tell me he knows the owner. I don’t want to lose Bella. I can’t lose her.
‘That’s an unusual breed. Feels like I’ve seen her around.’ he says. ‘Did you get her from someone local?’
‘Found her wandering,’ I say. ‘We nearly ran over her. No idea where she comes from.’ I don’t want to return her to anyone. She’s my best friend now and without her, I can’t imagine …
‘She probably just looks like another dog I’ve seen,’ he says, and I exhale with relief. ‘She looks cool. Have you trained her already? It’s good if they know the basics, then they can go more off-leash.’
I shake my head.
‘Every Sunday at the park in town. My dog Tiger has done a complete 180, he was totally naughty before, a mischievous devil that chewed up half our couch and gave my mum a nervous breakdown. And he never came when called, he would just laugh at us like we were idiots for trying. Really. Now he’s Super Dog!’ Oliver smiles. ‘You should come along.’
I’m now grinning uncontrollably. Did Oliver just invite me out?
‘It’s all positive reinforcement practices,’ he continues. ‘Give me your number and I’ll text the details,’ he says.
I pass him my phone because I think my hands are trembling. He’s so cute I can’t even cope. I’m just hoping Lucy isn’t watching as my puppy love must be obvious.
But after he’s gone, and the bell sounds, I sit in class listening to the droning voice of the teacher, thinking, ‘I’m on probation with Marissa and if I want to succeed, I have to pass.’ I do the sums: Landcare plus Oliver equals zero. Maybe she could handle me doing something uncool like Landcare, but hanging with Oliver at dog-training? I’d be booted out, my new group membership revoked.
My phone beeps. I slip it out of my pocket and check it under my desk.
It’s from Jules. ‘Saw U talking to Oliver. Meet you after the bell behind the tree?’
My heart’s racing as I wait for Jules by the big fig tree.
‘You gotta be careful, Sky,’ she says as soon as she appears, ‘Marissa will kill you if she finds out you’re into him and seeing him behind her back or something.’
‘I’m not,’ I say, ‘he just told me about some dog-training, that’s it, I’m not even going.’ This is making me angry. ‘Why is Marissa so controlling, anyway? She’s like the friggin’ Queen and we’re all her loyal servants. No, slaves. How can you stand it? It’s super annoying.’
‘She wasn’t this bad before,’ Jules sighs.
‘What changed?’ I ask. ‘Something happened in Sydney, didn’t it?’
Jules looks at me and I can see her thinking, deciding whether to tell me or not.
‘I can keep a secret,’ I say, ‘promise.’
Jules looks around to see no one’s lingering close to us, ‘But you have to swear. I will be dead if she finds out.’
I offer up my little finger, ‘pinky swear,’ I say and she smiles.
‘Marissa was a total wreck for months last year,’ Jules says, ‘barely washed her hair, pimples, like, everywhere, you wouldn’t have even recognised her.’
‘After she came back?’
‘She was crying constantly. Her mum was so desperate to make her stop that she even agreed to get Princess. And Marissa was calling me all the time. I mean all the time, even in the middle of the night.’ Jules opens her eyes wide. I can’t help but notice she seems a little proud. I want to ask why Marissa had chosen her, not Kristy to lean on, but decide not to.
‘I can’t even imagine,’ I say. Marissa crying, being vulnerable, crazy. ‘What happened?’ I prompt.
‘There was a huge house party at the home of a rugby player called Pete, who was from the nearby boys’ school. Marissa and the other boarders got permission to go but had a strict curfew. Usually, no one would check up on them. But …’ Jules pauses.
‘Yeah?’ I ask.
Jules looks around again, and seeing nobody, continues:
‘This one time, though, just her luck, they did a roll call and Marissa was missing. The other girls played dumb and the entire boarding school staff searched for Marissa. They called Pete’s parents, they called Marissa and then at, like, 2 am or something, they called her parents.’
‘And then?’ I ask.
‘She was spotted at six in the morning, squeezing through the back gate, still dressed in her party clothes with some crazy excuse. The school principal was furious but Marissa’s parents convinced the school to let it go with some stupid punishment, which she didn’t even do,’ Jules rolls her eyes. ‘The next day, though, one of the girls in her year got a photo text from her boyfriend. It’d come from Pete, who’d sent a Snapchat to his friend who’d taken a screenshot. The pic was going totally viral around all the private schools. And it was Marissa, wearing only a sexy red bra, doing shots with Pete in his bedroom.’
I put my hand over my mouth; it’s not funny, but still.
Jules grins a little too when she finishes, ‘Marissa was expelled and had to come back home.’
‘Her tail between her legs,’ I offer.
‘Yep, totally,’ Jules says.
Chapter 11
Marissa likes Oliver and that’s totally fine. I haven’t thought about him. Not 14,400 times a day, ten times a minute, every six seconds. Not one bit. Not his kissable lips or shaggy hair with traces of sawdust. Not his electric thigh, hell no. And I’m not meeting him at the park today even if he’s texted me all the details, complete with bus route and directions. I have to help Paula and David, I told him, remove dry branches and stuff from the property line because bushfire season’s approaching.
‘It’ll be fun,’ Paula puts on the kettle, then takes two pills from her pocket, swallowing them with a glass of tap water. Must be the hormones.
‘I’ve got a picnic lunch ready,’ she says, taking out the mugs from the cupboard, ‘and we’ll spread out a blanket at the back fence. There’s nothing better in life than a home-made lemonade after a few hours of hard labour. Right, Dave?’
The last thing I feel like doing is hanging with Paula. I’ve calmed down a bit, but the whole baby thing is still upsetting. On one hand, I get it, she wants her own family. But on the other, I can’t help feeling, aren’t I en
ough?
‘Sure,’ David grins, ‘Took you about ten years to get on board with bushfire prepping. She was such a city-girl, Sky; you wouldn’t believe it looking at Paula now. The moaning and groaning I had to put up with!’
I had wanted to tell them about Landcare, how much I like Miss Higgins and how hard I’m working, but now I don’t feel like sharing anything.
My phone beeps with a message. ‘I know, I know’ I say as I turn off the screen, ‘no phones at the table.’ I roll my eyes.
‘Sunday breakfast I’m sure we can make an exception,’ David looks at Paula who lifts her eyebrow. I can tell David is trying hard to be the peacemaker between Paula and me after weeks of tension.
I read the message. Oliver has sent me an updated meeting time, half an hour from now, just in case I’d changed my mind.
‘One of your girlfriends?’ Paula asks, sitting down to eat her toast.
‘No. It’s nothing.’
‘So, it must be a boy.’ David gives me a pretend punch in the shoulder. I can’t help but smile.
‘Just some guy in my class who goes to dog-training,’ I say to David, ‘Bella still hasn’t learnt to come. I’ve been practising every day but she’s still not listening to me when she is off-leash. There’s a class in town and thought it may help, but that’s okay,’ I say, thinking of Marissa again.
There’s no way I can risk Marissa finding out I’m seeing Oliver and get the wrong idea, platonic or not. Not after Jules’ warning message. In the last few days, it has been tricky juggling Landcare with my friends. No matter how much I scrape and scrub my nails after planting, Marissa still turns up her button nose, complaining I smell of dirt. That’s rich, given she smells of smoke, underneath all her perfume. She also makes snarky remarks about ‘Birdie’. Jules, always looking out for me, brought me a pair of her grandma’s old gardening gloves. But no matter the state of my nails and how much I keep my distance from Lucy when they’re around, Marissa clearly doesn’t approve. But Marissa has been through a rough time and, a meanie or not, she doesn’t deserve having her would-be boyfriend taken by someone else. Not that I could do that even if I wanted to!
‘Go,’ David says, ‘Right, babe? She should definitely take Bella, that dog needs work.’
‘No, David, it's fine,’ I say. ‘I don’t mind helping out.’ Which is partly true because I don’t care that much – I’ll just listen to music the whole time and avoid conversation with my aunt.
‘You can go, Sky, but later let’s make some time to chat.’ Paula looks at me. ‘Anyway, who’s your friend? What’s his name?’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ I say. It’s none of her business who I’m with.
‘It matters a lot,’ Paula says. ‘I’m not sending you off with some teenage boy I don’t know. Your mum would not have approved. We’re responsible for you, and …’ Blah. Blah. Blah.
‘Responsible. Whatever,’ I mumble, wishing she would stop talking. It is obvious she feels ‘responsible’ for me like I am some poor orphan, but it’s not like I’m part of her family. Her feelings are clear and my anger’s back.
‘Sky, I know you feel like you’re all grown up, but you’re still young and I need to know where—’
‘There’s nothing to know,’ I hiss, ‘because there’s nothing happening.’
‘Ladies, please don’t fight,’ David interjects. ‘Sky, why don’t I drop you at the park and you can fill me in. Is that okay, babe?’ he turns to Paula and she shrugs. From her expression, I guess I’ve pissed her off. That makes two of us.
‘Okay,’ I say. David’s trying to make me happy and if he’s insisting I see Oliver, who am I to stop him? I avoid Paula’s gaze and rush to my room to change.
It takes me five minutes and three wardrobe changes before I decide on a purple singlet and cut-offs. Then I run to the bathroom where I tie my hair up, take it out, brush it and tie it up again. I’m having a terrible hair day. I settle on a loose plait. I cover my pimple, which has got bigger, and gloss my lips. But just a little. I don’t want to look like I’ve tried too hard.
David and I drive off; Bella is panting hot doggie breath in my ear.
‘On my way,’ I text Oliver after I tell David as much as I know about him, which is pretty much nothing.
David doesn’t really care. ‘I trust you,’ he says, leaving it at that.
Eight people mill around the park chatting as their dogs sniff trees and take turns to mark their territory. Bella pulls me towards a large fig tree and relieves herself. Unfortunately, it’s a number two and in my rush to get out of the house I didn’t bring any bags. I look around in a panic. Great dog owner I’m turning out to be.
‘Need one of these?’ Oliver approaches with a plastic bag and Tiger, his handsome white dog on a leash. He’s wearing an old ripped T-shirt, shorts and miss-matched socks with tatty sneakers but he looks more than great. I forget Marissa and my promise to keep him at a distance.
I feel my lips. They’re dry. Why didn’t I reapply the gloss?
‘Thank you so much!’ I say, crouching down. How do I do this again? And elegantly.
‘No problemo. Scooping is a serious skill. There should be an Olympics or something. Put your hand in, like a glove and then …’ Oliver bends down to collect Bella’s poo, turning the bag and tying expertly. ‘Goal!’ he shouts as the bag lands inside a nearby garbage bin. He grins like a five-year-old. It’s not quite the grand romantic gesture where the guy lays his coat over a rain puddle for the girl, but I’ll take it.
Bella sniffs Tiger’s bum and I feel my cheeks redden.
‘It’s all a little new to me,’ I smile apologetically, pulling Bella away and telling her to sit. She doesn’t listen.
‘I’ve been learning training techniques online from the Dog Guru.’ I say, thinking of the YouTube clips WildRider sent.
‘There are so many techniques, but I think he’s the best,’ Oliver says, ‘I watch those all the time.’
Oliver’s phone beeps. ‘It’s my dad, he’s taking me to check out some beehives later, you know, for the school project. I’m doing honey, how about you?’ Oliver asks.
‘Chickens,’ I tell him, and immediately blurt out a fun fact I’d just discovered. ‘Did you know they can learn faster than dogs?’
I’d been doing a lot of chicken research lately. My project is growing quickly, but still needs the ‘extraordinary’, as Mr Peterson put it, whatever that is.
‘Yeah, they’re under-appreciated. Did you know they can learn how to count to six?’ he says. Impressive. Who knows stuff like that? Except me, of course.
Oliver reaches down to pat Bella, and his dog Tiger rolls onto his back, ‘You’re a good boy, too,’ he says.
I crouch down next to him. ‘Mum showed me a ticklish spot where dogs go crazy,’ I say, making Tiger kick around like a maniac. I’m struck by how I’ve easily told someone a good memory of Mum and it hasn’t made me angry or sad. Oliver and I laugh.
‘When did she die?’ he asks, ‘Sorry, I mean, pass away. That sounded harsh.’
‘It’s okay. Not long ago. I’m still processing it all.’
‘I can’t imagine how much you miss her,’ he says.
There’s that word, ‘miss’. Even though I hate the word, coming from Oliver, it sounds okay.
‘More than words can possibly describe,’ I say adding, ‘to the stars and back.’ It sounds childish and I feel weird and exposed, but Oliver holds my gaze, and his kind green eyes make me feel safe.
‘I know I have said this already. But your dog looks so familiar,’ Oliver tilts his head as he looks at Bella from a different angle. ‘Where have I seen … I swear, that face, I know it. Oh.’ He stops suddenly.
‘What?’
‘No. It’s nothing. I just remembered where I’ve seen her, I mean, a dog that looked just like her.’
‘Where?’ I ask.
He pauses, brushing the hair off his eye. ‘An old friend …’ he says slowly, ‘has a similar one. They’re a pr
etty common mix.’
I look at him curiously. ‘And?’ I prompt him.
‘Nothing,’ he says brightly. ‘The class is getting started, should we …?’ he gestures like a gentleman to the group who are now positioned in a straight line, dogs sitting by their owners’ feet.
That’s weird. I’ll have to ask Oliver later what he meant. We join the line and Oliver and Tiger do all the exercises perfectly, while Bella and I clumsily fail every test. Oliver helps me out and soon we’re both laughing.
The instructor passes out treats to reward the dogs and I notice Oliver crinkle his nose at the smell.
‘Don’t like bacon either?’ I ask,
‘So gross,’ he says.
Can this guy get any more perfect? My phone beeps with a Snapchat. It’s a selfie of Jules, Marissa and Kristy; they’re shopping in town. ‘Come hang out’ they text.
‘Sorry, I can’t,’ I text back, ‘Gotta help my aunt with something.’ Oh no, I shouldn’t have lied outright, just kept it vague, and now I’m worried I’ll be found out as well as feeling guilty, ‘but have fun.’ I add about ten emojis to alleviate my guilt. Now Marissa’s on my mind and I wonder if I can find out what Oliver thinks about her.
At the end of class, we stand by a tree and Oliver offers me a sip from his water bottle.
‘Marissa was really nice inviting me to her birthday party,’ I say, taking a swig, ‘me being the New Girl and everything,’ I look for any clues in his expression. Nothing. I continue, ‘She’s, like, the most popular girl, super nice, you like her, Marissa, right?’
‘Sure, we’re friends, I’ve known her a long time,’ Oliver says, his face lighting up, ‘since kindergarten. Marissa and Andrew, Kristy, Jules, we all started school together.’
‘She has the most amazing dress for the gala,’ I say, still fishing. He looks at me questioningly but doesn’t take the bait.
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