Dad looks over to me. ‘I mean, it’s not as if you need either of us to be with you the whole time, is it, Olympia? I’m sure you’re quite capable of dealing with the class alone.’
It’s really nice to hear him say that. ‘That’s fine with me,’ I say.
Mum smiles. ‘Well, look at us … compromising,’ she says. ‘That suits me too. Let’s lock it in.’
The clock on our mantelpiece tells me it’s almost ten, which is supposed to be my bedtime. But I give it a shot.
‘I’ve got another idea for a compromise,’ I say.
Mum and Dad look at each other and then back at me. Both of them are shaking their heads and smiling. I feel like they’re enjoying this night as much as I am – which could be a good sign for what I’m about to ask.
‘Seeing as I’m old enough to take Cricket to obedience school on my own, how about I get to stay up to watch Acacia Lane?’
That’s one of the good things about my mum – she sometimes lets me stay up watching late-night TV shows with her. Most of my friends have to go to bed way before ten on weeknights. There’s no way any of them would be allowed to stay up for a show that doesn’t start until after that. Even though I don’t get to watch it that often, I can usually figure out what’s happening on Acacia Lane.
Mum does her little snorty laugh. ‘I’m not sure that’s a compromise, Limps,’ she says. ‘More like a manipulation.’
But when Dad just shrugs and smiles, I know I’ve won.
‘All right, girls,’ Dad says, putting a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and picking up his book. ‘Enjoy your soapie. I’d have to say, I’d rather stick pins in my eyes …’
‘Dad … sshhh,’ I say.
The theme song to Acacia Lane is really heavy on the piano. There’s a run-through of stuff that’s happened previously. This episode centres on my fave character. Veronica is fifteen, and a student at Beverly Hills High.
She has the best clothes you could ever imagine. Even better than Edi’s. She lives in a mansion with her parents, equipped with an indoor pool and spa, a gym and a maid who picks up after her.
Heaven.
I’m completely in love with the orange shortie jumpsuit she’s wearing as she sweeps into the giant kitchen. The background music is bright and cheerful as she scans the huge marble bench. Right in front of her, there’s a brandnew, hot-pink credit card wrapped in a white bow. Oh my god. If that was me, I’d go off. But Veronica is used to stuff like that. All she does is pick the card up, smile a small smile and take her phone out of her awesome white handbag to write a text.
Thnx daddy.
Next thing you know, you see Veronica heading out of Juicy Couture with about fifty million shopping bags. She looks pretty happy, like you would be if you had fifty million bags like that. But then, her face falls. The camera scans to a red sports car parked across the road.
Someone gets out of the passenger seat, and then the driver gets out. The background music goes from fun and light to super intense. At first, you can only see their backs, but when they walk up to each other on the sidewalk it’s clear who they are.
Veronica’s father and her mother’s best friend. And right there, out on the street, they actually hook up!
The camera scans back to Veronica as she drops her bags to the pavement. The theme music starts. Now we’ll have to wait for ages to see what happens.
As I lie in bed, I replay that scene in my head. It was so … dramatic. I kind of wish life was that dramatic. I mean, seeing something like that would be hard, for sure. But at least there’s a real reason why it’s hard.
In a way, I wish I had something like that going on in my life, rather than the boring stuff about how Mum and Dad keep arguing about nothing. Something to tell my friends that’s huge. Something that’s way more interesting than boyfriends who eat too much, or any of the other things we talk about. Something to make them sit up and pay attention to me.
That’s what I need for the caravan meeting tomorrow.
Something dramatic to share.
School is totally boringsville on Tuesday morning. Edi, Jess and Hazel are all at a science excursion. They split our class into two groups because it was too big to take everyone together. It’s so unfair that Mrs Franks just went around the room, telling people they were group A or B. I was sitting between Edi and Hazel, so they were both put in group A and I ended up in group B. Jess was put in group A too, so they all went off together today, and I have to wait until next week.
I mean, it’s not like I’m gagging to go to the Werribee sewage plant, but even the stupidest excursions can be fun. And it’s super annoying to be left out.
I’m not sure what to do at recess. I start walking down the breezeway, trying to look like I have a purpose. Then I see Mr Cartwright coming towards me.
‘May I have a moment of your time, Olympia?’ he asks.
I shrug and mutter a yes. This is really odd. He walks to the side of the breezeway so we won’t get bowled over by the crowd coming towards us.
‘I’ve taken the liberty of making an appointment for you with Ms Alisi in fourth period,’ he says.
Everyone knows who Ms Alisi is, though we know her as Kelly, because she’s given heaps of talks about bullying and stuff at assembly. She’s the school counsellor.
‘I believe a visit to her would be helpful, Olympia. You’ll miss out on my maths class, but rest assured today’s class will only be revision because so many students are away on the science excursion. Do you know where to find her?’
I nod. Kelly’s office is in B Block, near the main entrance to the school. She says at assembly that her door is always open.
I feel a bit guilty. Last night, everything was really good at home. We just sat around watching TV like a normal family. And now I’m supposed to tell Kelly all about Mum and Dad’s fights. I’m probably wasting her time.
When the bell rings for the fourth period, I’m not sure I want to go. It might be really awkward, trying to explain the stuff that goes on at home. But my friends are away from school and it’s a chance to get out of maths, so I decide I’ll give it a go.
I make my way to Kelly’s office. There’s a sign on the door that says:
In session. Please wait to be called.
But she has a sort of waiting room, where there’s a seat and a coffee table with loads of cool magazines. I sit down and start flicking through the mags, catching up on celebrity goss. Then the door opens. I keep my head down, but I can still see who comes out. It’s a girl from year eleven called Amy.
There are heaps of rumours about Amy that go through the school. I’ve heard that she cuts herself. I think the rumours are true too, because Amy walks around with the sleeves of her school jumper pushed up and you can actually see the scars. Cutting seems like a pretty weird thing to do in the first place, but I think it’s even weirder that she doesn’t care if everyone knows about it.
In a way, I get it. I guess Amy’s pain is carved on her arms and wrists for everyone to see. Mine is just hidden away inside my body.
‘Hey, Olympia,’ says Kelly. ‘Please come in.’
Kelly’s office isn’t like a regular office. There’s no desk or the hard chairs we have in the classrooms. There are just two big, comfy lounge chairs and a beanbag. The chairs are side by side, but angled. As soon as I sit down on one of the lounge chairs, I get why. I can see Kelly’s face, but I don’t have to look at her directly. I think Kelly must have deliberately placed the chairs like that to give people the chance to talk while also having a bit of space. There’s a box of tissues on a table next to my armchair. It makes me wonder how many kids might have cried in this room.
‘Thanks for coming today,’ Kelly says. ‘I’d just like to start by letting you know that whatever you say in these sessions is private and confidential. The only exception to that would be if I believed you were being harmed by someone, or harming yourself. In that case, I would need to talk to someone.’
As soon a
s she says that, I feel antsy. No-one is actually harming me, and I’m not actually harming myself. Not like Amy, anyway. It makes me feel like I shouldn’t really be here.
‘Your teacher suggested you come here today because you’ve had some trouble finishing your homework and you said you were having some problems at home,’ Kelly says. Her voice is gentle. ‘Did you tell your teacher that?’
I shrug. ‘Yeah, I guess so,’ I begin. ‘But it’s not … I mean, I don’t really think it’s that big a deal.’
Kelly tilts her head to the side. ‘Olympia, my job is to talk to young people. There are no wrong things to talk about here. Everyone’s situation is different and your experience is individual. If something matters to you, then it’s worth talking about, okay?’
That makes me feel better. I’m more relaxed. Without thinking, I tuck my legs up on the chair under me. Kelly doesn’t seem to mind.
‘So, can you tell me a little bit about what home is like for you at the moment?’
I clear my throat. ‘Well,’ I begin, ‘I’m pretty close with my mum.’
‘Good,’ Kelly says.
‘But …’ I say. I take a breath. ‘But sometimes, my parents fight.’
Kelly nods. ‘That must be difficult for you, Olympia. Do they argue in front of you?’
Now it’s my turn to nod. I bite my lip.
‘Yeah, they do. And after they fight, Dad sometimes goes to Aunty Kate’s and stays there. Usually it’s just for a few days. But every time he goes, it makes me wonder if it will be for good. It feels like he might never come back.’
‘Ah, so when your parents argue, you feel like there’s a chance that they’ll break up,’ Kelly says. ‘That must be worrying.’
‘It is,’ I say. ‘And the thing is, they don’t even seem to care that I worry about it. They don’t try to hide their arguments; they just go at each other like I’m not even there.’
‘How does that make you feel?’ Kelly says. I don’t think anyone has ever asked me that before.
‘It makes me feel angry,’ I say. ‘And frustrated. And sad. And guilty.’ Every time I think of a word that describes how I feel, another one comes along. I wonder if Kelly will think there are too many, or that they don’t make sense all together, but when I look at her she’s nodding. ‘And confused,’ I continue. ‘Especially when Mum comes and talks to me about all Dad’s faults afterwards. It shouldn’t be my job to listen to that stuff.’
‘So,’ Kelly says slowly, like there’s all the time in the world to talk like this. To talk about my life. ‘Sometimes, I find it helpful to come up with a theory. Maybe you can tell me if I’m getting it right, or not really?’ She pauses and draws her own legs under her. ‘It sounds to me that when your parents argue in front of you, you feel they aren’t considering how it makes you feel. Is that right?’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ I say, and it feels good that she gets it. She’s put the feeling into words in a way that I haven’t been able to. It’s like she can see me in a way my parents don’t. That everything I say and anything I might be thinking is important. It’s a feeling I’m not used to. I have Kelly’s undivided attention, and even if she’s paid to do this, it still feels good.
‘I also wonder,’ she continues, ‘whether you might feel that your mum comes to you for support when it’s really her role as a mum to be the support for you. Is that right, Olympia?’
‘Well, kind of. Except I love that Mum talks to me about most things like we’re friends. But I just don’t like the way she talks to me about Dad sometimes.’
‘So, you love your relationship with your mum the way it is, except when it comes to talking about your dad’s faults, right?’
I nod. I’m glad I can add that to her theory. I’d feel bad if I couldn’t let her know that there are really good things about my family too. Kelly nods like she’s really taking in that point. It also feels like I’m allowed to experiment with my words. That if I want to unsay anything that doesn’t feel quite right, I can. Which makes talking about this stuff all seem really safe somehow.
‘It’s like …’ I pause, searching for the right words. ‘In a way, when Mum and Dad are fighting, it feels the same as it does when Mum dumps on me about Dad. Like they’re not even thinking about me. Like I’m kind of invisible,’ I finish.
‘Mmmm,’ Kelly says. ‘So you feel like they’re both not properly aware of you when they’re arguing, and your mum also doesn’t seem to be aware of how it upsets you when she talks to you about your dad. Is that right, Olympia?’
‘Yes. That’s it,’ I say.
Kelly untucks her legs and puts her feet back on the floor. That’s how I know the session is over.
‘I’d like to see you again, Olympia,’ she says. She writes an appointment time on a piece of paper and hands it to me. ‘In the meantime, I’d like you to think about this. If you could say something to your parents and make them hear it, what would that be?’ She pauses. ‘When you’ve thought of what it is you want to say, write it down. And then, when you feel ready, I could help you communicate it, or you might even feel comfortable doing it on your own.’
I take the piece of paper. It’s comforting to know I’ll get to talk to Kelly again. I feel lighter somehow. As though it might be possible to sort out some of the tangled feelings that live inside me. And the day is just going to get better.
I’ve only got two more classes and then I get to join my friends at Edi’s caravan.
I’m excited about the caravan meeting. Edi’s caravan is amazing. It’s in her backyard and you can look through one of the little windows at the side and see her swimming pool. Her pool is way smaller than the one Veronica has on Acacia Lane, but at least Edi has one. She’s so lucky to have her own private caravan space too, and I love that we get to share it when we have our meetings. And today, I’m feeling more pumped than usual because this ‘emergency’ meeting is going to be about my stuff for a change.
I walk down the driveway and pause. The caravan door is open, and there’s laughter coming from inside. Three types of laughter. Which means everyone has got here before me, even though I’m early.
Hazel appears in the doorway. As though it’s her caravan.
‘Hey, Limps,’ she says, ‘I’ve gotta go in the house to pee. Jess is cracking us up.’
I bite my lip. The laughter is still coming in waves. This isn’t really what I expected, since this meeting is supposed to be serious.
But soon, Edi pokes her head through the curtains at the side of the caravan. She waves, and the next thing I know she’s come out to meet me. She links her arm with mine and takes me behind the van.
‘I just want you to know,’ she says carefully, ‘we got back to school from the excursion early and we were allowed to go home if we had a parent’s consent. So, instead of everyone going back to their own houses and then over here, we all just came straight back to mine. That’s why we’re all here before you, okay?’
I feel myself relax a bit. It’s nice that Edi made the effort to explain that to me. She wouldn’t normally do that, and I can tell she’s trying to make sure I don’t feel excluded. I give her a small smile so she knows that I know that she’s trying.
‘Okay,’ I say, and we walk inside together.
Edi pulls me over to sit in our proper positions. I’m beside her on the lime-green bench seat. Jess slips in the other side of the table. Hazel comes back inside and slides in next to Jess.
‘So, how was the excursion?’ I ask, making sure my voice sounds casual.
‘Well, of course it was lovely,’ Edi says with a grin. ‘The Werribee sewage plant. A dream excursion, really. So, so romantic. No wonder Jess found luuurve there.’
‘Oh crap,’ Jess says, putting her head in her hands. She looks completely clueless that she’s even made a joke, but it sends Edi and Hazel off again.
‘You should have been there, Limps,’ Hazel says, which is really annoying because clearly I wasn’t. But I plant a smile on my face
. ‘Tell her what happened, Jess.’
Jess nods and her ringlets spring up and down. ‘Well, the guy was going on about the how poo is treated after it goes down our toilets and how it gets broken down on the way and …’
‘Jess,’ Hazel yells, holding up her hand as a stop sign. It’s the signal we use when Jess goes off track. It happens a lot. ‘Not about that! Tell her about Cheese Feet!’
‘Let’s not call him that anymore,’ Jess says indignantly. ‘His name is Chester, okay?’
I tap my foot under the table. I have a feeling Jess’s story is going to take a while. Jess’s stories tend to do that, and if there’s a boy involved in this one, it could take even longer. I am interested, but I’m kind of deflated too. This meeting was supposed to be about me.
‘Anyway,’ Jess resumes, ‘Adam comes up to me while the guy is talking about all the poo stuff, and he tells me that Chester likes me. He wants to know if I like him too. So I tell him that I can’t really like Chester, because I don’t even really know him. But Adam says that’s the whole point, and that Chester is interested in getting to know me. Then, the sewage man stops talking and asks if there’s anything we’d like to share with the whole group, and I shake my head. It’s really embarrassing. When he finally starts talking again, I turn around and Chester is just standing there, staring at me.’
‘He looked kind of grey,’ Edi says.
Jess blows out a breath. ‘He was sweaty too,’ she says. ‘He looked so nervous. Then he just blurted out, “Will you go out with me, Jess?” and his voice was all wobbly and I felt so sorry for him.’ Now Jess screws up her face. ‘I kind of had to say yes,’ she says softly.
‘So, now, Jess is going out with Cheese …’ Edi stops herself. ‘Chester,’ she corrects.
Even though I wouldn’t go out with Chester Fealy if he was the last boy on earth, it’s sort of disturbing that everyone else in my group has a boyfriend now. Someone who likes them. God, Jess was only number ten on the hot list. She was two below me!
Invisible Me Page 3