by Micol Ostow
Billie’s mouth opened into a little O of surprise. She quickly closed it, though she remained as gobsmacked as ever.
Iris grinned. “We’ll need your help ushering the event.” She slapped her palm on the table for good measure, and turned and left the room.
That’d be right, Billie thought. She sighed. It’s going to be a screamer of a bash.
Chapter Thirteen
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: G’day again!
How’re you going?
Things are good here, if a little bit rainy. I’m not used to spending this much time indoors. You must be in heaven, out doing fieldwork all the time instead of hunched over some computer.
Not that I’m complaining—I love working in your father’s office! Right now we interns are helping to organize a benefit dinner. I’m sure you’re accustomed to these glam political functions, but the whole thing sounds seriously swank to me! I guess my only thought is whether it would be possible to be raising money for Proposition Seven, you know? I still can’t believe it’s been pushed aside for two years.
Hmm…but what was that I said about not complaining? I do think the party will be fun. Even if we’re working it, rather than attending as guests, I’m getting excited.
I also had a chance to spend some time with Parker and the other folks from the newspaper the other day. We did some major “coffeehousing.” Parker is great, and it’s cool that he does something as important as running the school newspaper. He tells me you’re not a writer, but maybe you’ll have more to say now that you’ve spent some time down under, getting your hands dirty!
But now for the real scoop…how was the uni formal?
Billie
As she sat in the taxi back to Jess’s house from the formal, Eliza was grinning so widely her cheeks hurt. Her night could not have been better if she had scripted it herself. She had gone to a fabulous college party with a sweet, sexy bloke (it made her giggle to think of a guy as a “bloke”), and they had kissed under the moonlight. She didn’t care if it was cheesy, romance-novel material. It was also perfect. Australia was shaping up to be better than she could have hoped. Way better.
One of the most surprising things about kissing Macca was how much she didn’t think about Parker when the kissing was going on. In fact, if she was totally honest with herself, she hadn’t been thinking much about Parker on this trip at all. Since their quick e-mail exchange a few weeks before, they’d mostly fallen out of contact, and Billie’s note about hanging out with him was the closest she’d come to a proper update in a while. She was surprised that she felt a little guilty about this. In her heart of hearts, she knew that she and Parker had had different ideas about what “taking space” truly meant. But she couldn’t help herself. Australia was her own personal buffet, and Macca was the dessert table.
Besides, Parker was cool, and independent, and not the kind of guy to pine away wistfully. His last e-mail was pretty upbeat, and obviously he and Billie were getting along. Maybe all he’d really needed was a new friend and a new focus for his energies in order to put their romance on hiatus the way she had…
Eliza had almost managed to convince herself of this fact as she got out of the taxi and headed for the back door that led to Jess’s kitchen. Jess had said she would leave the door open so Eliza could sneak into the house and into Jess’s room. The lights were on in the kitchen. She slid the door and blinds open, slipped inside…and let out a small yelp of surprise.
There, at the kitchen table, sat a very tired and anxious-looking Jess, her father, and Frank.
Perfect, Eliza thought as she screwed up her face into an awkward smile, which she hoped conveyed the appropriate mixture of innocence and shame—something akin to a dog tucking its tail between its legs. It was clear immediately that it had little effect on her audience.
“Eliza, please come sit down,” Frank said sternly. Eliza slid into the empty fourth seat at the table. “You’ll never guess what happened tonight.”
“Um…what?” Eliza didn’t really want to know. She didn’t like guessing games. Not one bit.
“Estelle and I were sitting down to dinner with the boys when we received a call. Do you know who that call might have been from?”
“No?” Eliza drummed her fingernails against the table, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze. How could she possibly escape this situation? If only a trapdoor in the floor would hinge open and suck her down.
“It was Mr. Winstone. He was calling to say that if you couldn’t work in the water because of your ankle injury, he could still use a hand cataloging the samples, and so you should come down anyway.” He cleared his throat. “That, of course, begged the question of what sort of ankle injury you had and why it was something bad enough to skip out on your internship but not so bad as to prevent you from hanging out with Jess for the evening.” He arched his eyebrows suspiciously.
“So Estelle and I were very concerned about your welfare, and we decided we should find out what happened, but you weren’t answering your mobile. Naturally, we grew concerned, and I rushed to the place you told us you would be. After I got here and waited for you and Jess to return, how curious it was that only one of you came through the door.”
Eliza suddenly realized that she hadn’t even thought about the fact that Mr. Winstone might call the house. Her excuse for the night was built on a very weak foundation, and someone had just kicked out one of her structure’s legs. It was clear, based on Frank’s expression, that he was not at all pleased with her, and that her entire life outside of class was about to change rather abruptly. A sense of impending doom crept up her spine, making her skin break out in goosebumps. But Frank wasn’t finished.
“We are very disappointed in you, young lady.”
Somehow, being called “young lady” felt more scathing than being called “brat,” or maybe even a choice four-letter word. How was that even possible? Eliza wasn’t the sort of girl who normally disappointed people. She was unhappy to learn that the experience left a hollow feeling at the base of her stomach.
“I think your parents would be most upset if they knew you had snuck out to a college party in the middle of the night. Furthermore, you have abused the trust and respect that Jess’s father, Estelle, and I have extended to you. You have lied to us, and more importantly, you have let us down.”
Eliza felt a pang of genuine remorse. As much as she was different from the Echolses, with their 1950s Ozzie and Harriet sensibilities, she had grown to like them. She also wasn’t used to going behind people’s backs, or breaking rules. She realized that if word got back to anyone in D.C. about this, it could reflect poorly—very poorly—on her father.
Maybe if the Echolses knew what she’d snuck out for—how imperative it had been that she go to an Australian university formal—maybe then they’d be more sympathetic. They were kind, reasonable people. It could work.
“I’m sorry, I really am. I just got all caught up in everything. I really wanted to go to the formal, but I didn’t know how to tell you about it. I just didn’t want to miss out on such a culturally rich experience.” She risked a searching glance at her host father.
Alas, no one was buying her mea culpa. Jess was doing everything she could not to look anyone in the eye. Her dad had busied himself preparing another cup of coffee and was now leaning against the kitchen counter, stirring his mug and staring off at an undefined point in the distance.
Frank leaped in again. “You cannot, I repeat, cannot go off and do something like this without talking to us. We are responsible for looking after you on behalf of your parents and if, heaven forbid, something were to happen to you, how would we know? How would we feel? How would your parents feel? Some things are about more than you.”
Eliza flushed, guilt creeping up her spine like an actual, physical creature. She knew that some things were about more than her, of course, but couldn’t this one thing—her semester abroad—be hers and only hers
? Who was she really hurting, anyway, by going to a party with a boy whom she liked?
“I’m really sorry,” she repeated, having run out of other appropriate words for the occasion.
Frank frowned at her. “Well, ‘sorry’ isn’t going to cut it. Things are going to change now that you’ve shown you can’t handle the level of personal responsibility we offered you. But for now, go gather your things, say good night to Jess, and apologize to her father. Then we’ll be going.”
As Eliza grabbed her stuff from Jess’s bedroom, Jess came in to help.
“Ouch, that was rough,” Jess said with a sympathetic smile.
“You’re telling me.” Eliza shook her head in disbelief.
Jess laid a hand on Eliza’s forearm. “Listen, just lay low a little bit and let them cool off. I’m sure things will work themselves out.”
“I hope you’re right,” Eliza said doubtfully. “I can’t help but wonder if maybe I should have just been honest with them from the get-go. No matter what, you can bet I’ll be on a short leash from now on.” It was too awful to contemplate. And here she’d thought the Echolses were overprotective even before any of this mess had transpired.
Jess gave Eliza a hug and another sympathetic smile before they turned and headed back to the kitchen, where their parents were waiting.
Following some cursory good-byes and an apology to Jess’s father, they were in the car cruising back home. Frank didn’t speak a word to her. She felt like a villain in a comic book, The Evil American. She’d been exposed as the embodiment of every negative image people had of Americans—brash and arrogant, self-centered and obnoxious. And manipulative. She couldn’t leave out manipulative. Not only had she let the Echolses down, but now Jess’s family was onto her, as well. She wasn’t used to being thought of as a troublemaker.
This was a disaster, an absolute disaster. The rest of the semester suddenly seemed like an endless expanse, indeed.
Eliza’s life became considerably less free over the next few weeks. She was under a strict curfew, which the Echolses enforced stringently by insisting on driving her to, and picking her up from, her various activities. When they couldn’t be there themselves, they asked that the teacher or supervisor in charge call them to make sure Eliza had shown. It was humiliating. She was being treated like a prisoner out on parole.
For her own part, Estelle was determined to get Eliza back on track with her internship. She drove Eliza down to the site an hour early the following Saturday to meet with Mr. Winstone to discuss how Eliza could make up for her behavior with some extra-credit work. They arrived at the cramped warehouse office where the lab kits and equipment were kept to find Mr. Winstone awaiting them grimly. He gestured to two rickety folding chairs that faced his desk, indicating that they should sit, and so they did.
Eliza nervously picked at a cuticle and tried to avoid looking at either of the adults as the “sick day” excuse she had used a couple weeks earlier also came to light.
“Eliza, I have to say I’m very disappointed about this whole affair.” Mr. Winstone looked genuinely angry. “I had trusted you, and to be honest, a stunt like this could jeopardize your eligibility to continue on as a S.A.S.S. student.”
Eliza gulped. It hadn’t occurred to her that she could be booted from the program. How would she ever live that down? And what would it mean for her father? A scandal like that was the sort of thing on which snarky bloggers thrived. There’d be no way to keep something like that under wraps.
Mr. Winstone sighed and continued. “However, we do believe in second chances here. So rather than get S.A.S.S., the school, and your parents involved at this point, we are willing to explore make up options with you.”
Eliza felt a rush of relief so strong that she wanted to jump across the desk and kiss Mr. Winstone. She managed to restrain herself as he went on.
“Believe me when I say that this will be your last chance. I must underline what I’m saying: this program was competitive, and you are here in place of many other qualified students who wanted to be here, and who I do suspect would take this program a good deal more seriously.”
“I know, and I’m sorry,” Eliza said, hoping he could hear the sincerity in her voice. “I really appreciate being given a chance to show you how much this opportunity means to me.” And it was true; as much as the internship wasn’t what she had expected, she wasn’t ready to give it up. “I know I’ve really messed up, but I promise that I’ll do better. I think I just got carried away with all the excitement of meeting new people and trying new things. You know, it’s my first time away from home and all.”
“Mr. Winstone, about the make up options: is there some sort of extra credit that Eliza might be able to do that would get her back into the swing of things?” Estelle asked.
“It’s not something I’ve had to deal with before, but I’m sure that I can come up with something, and we can see how things go. Perhaps you can do some work during the spring break?” Mr. Winstone looked thoughtful. “Some sort of special project?”
“That would be fine. Whatever you want,” Eliza said quickly. The idea of working over her break wasn’t perfect, but at least she wouldn’t be sent home.
Mr. Winstone turned to Estelle. “I understand from Eliza that you will be spending the break down on the Mornington Peninsula. I have a friend who is a ranger on Prince Phillip Island, and I am certain he could use a hand counting and tagging the fairy penguins for a couple of days. He and his crew are responsible for monitoring the penguin population down there. It’s important work but also, I should think, fun. Perhaps Eliza could help him out and write a report for me about it afterward? It would be a nice extension of the studies we have been doing on aquatic life in the bay here, and the interconnected ecosystems. Besides, Eliza—I’m told the young penguins are rather adorable.”
“Why, yes! That sounds like an excellent idea for a project,” Estelle enthused. “The twins have never been to Prince Phillip Island, so it will give us a good excuse to take them.”
Eliza was pleasantly surprised. She smiled and accepted that this was the best possible outcome of being caught on her little personal walkabout. The weather would be warming up, and she could spend some time with cute and cuddly penguins—it had to be a step up from the mollusks, right?
Right.
Penguins: cute, Eliza thought to herself with determination. Macca: even cuter.
I can do this.
Of course, Jess and Nomes had been amused by what had happened. It seemed that her clandestine partying was seen by them as a rite of passage, and Eliza had passed with flying colors.
“So when are you going to be free to come out again? I’m sure Macca would love to see you,” Jess prodded as they walked to the cafeteria on Monday.
Eliza blushed. “I don’t have a clue. Spring break is coming up, and the Echolses have a house down by the sea and some sort of shop…”
“FISHY WISHY!” the other two girls chorused, startling Eliza enough that she nearly walked right into another student.
“What?”
“Fishy Wishy,” Jess repeated, grinning. “I can’t believe you’re going to work there.”
“It’s a fish-and-chips place down in Sorrento,” Nomes added. “Everybody knows it. Everybody goes down to the Mornington Peninsula since we were kids. You’re going to love the uniforms. And you thought the St. Cat’s outfit was bad!”
Jess must have noticed the look of panic spreading across Eliza’s face. “Don’t worry,” she consoled her. “It won’t be so bad. You’ll be there for two weeks. I know you’ll get some time to hit the beach.”
“I appreciate the thought. Hopefully they’ll start easing up on me soon. I’ve been playing everything very by the book, and they seem to appreciate that, so maybe they’ll give me a bit of a break once we get there.” She sighed, feeling extremely sorry for herself. She knew she’d made her own bed, but that didn’t make lying in it any less irksome. . . .
“Listen, who knows
? Once you’re down there, things might turn out differently than you expect. Maybe the Echolses will loosen up. Just be sure to be on your best behavior for a bit.” Jess tried her best smile of encouragement, but it wasn’t quite enough in the face of this sad situation.
“I have been,” Eliza said. “It’s just, I’m not the kind of girl who usually has to be told to be on her best behavior.” She shrugged. “Never mind. So what are you guys up to later?”
“The weather is supposed to finally turn, and if it’s warm, we’re going to spend the evening at Luna Park checking out the rides.” Nomes looked hopefully at Eliza.
“Lucky you. With my curfew I’m definitely not allowed out to go to Luna Park. Besides, I think we’re going to see some old steam train so the twins can ride around on it for a while. Do you know anything about that?”
“Oh, man. Puffing Billy? I haven’t been there since I was a kid.” Jess rolled her eyes. “The thing runs around this track for no reason at all, and after a couple hours you’re back where you started. It’s not so bad, I guess; the scenery is nice. I’m sure it’ll keep the twins happy.”
The girls fell silent, and Eliza stared at the ground as they walked into the cafeteria. The twins had their whole lives to explore Australia. Eliza had only this one semester.
“Hey,” Jess said as she put her arm around Eliza. “You buck up, all right? Remember, there’s a reason we say ‘no worries’ down here. We’re going to find a way to make your time a good one, I promise.” She jerked her head meaningfully at Nomes.
“Yeah, we promise,” and Nomes put her arm around Eliza’s opposite shoulder.
Sandwiched between her two friends, Eliza couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, okay,” she conceded, “but only since you both promise.” She lifted her chin and threw her shoulders back like she was in the military, causing Jess and Nomes to giggle. “No worries!” she said brightly.