I dumped the bag on top of my waste paper basket. It wasn’t as satisfying as pushing them down the insinkerator, but it was good enough.
Last of all I picked up the small trophy from my bedside table. You were the beginning. I took one last look as it glinted in the light, then I threw it at the bin. The bag fell backwards and the trophy hit the wall. A flake of gold plastic chipped away. Good.
That was for you, Samantha.
The floor was swaying. I felt myself sag, like a giant balloon emptying. All the fight and force in my life was nothing more than hot air.
I was sinking, falling, folding – crumpling into nothing. I didn’t have to hold myself up anymore. This is it. I give up. I lay on my bed and breathed out.
In that moment, Supergirl died.
CHAPTER 14
When I woke, everything was quiet. Not just in the house but inside me, too, as if my heart and soul had disappeared. My arms were heavy. My legs were useless. I just lay there, feeling nothing but empty.
Even turning my head felt weird. My clock said 4.16. But what day was it? I’d been aware of time passing, Mum had brought me a drink to sip at some point, but I wasn’t really sure how long I’d been out.
Not that it mattered. Miss Paynter would have chosen the relay team by now. Well then . . . I wasn’t going to Zone Finals.
I’d been through this before – the frustration and disappointment, the gnawing jealousy. Numbly, I waited for it to engulf me.
Still, I felt empty. It was then that I realised I was too empty to care. That was it. My game was over. I was giving up the fight. I wasn’t a winner and I wasn’t a fighter. I was . . .
I didn’t know any more.
I rolled on my side. My pillow felt like the sweetest, softest place to be. I didn’t want to do anything.
I swallowed – it felt like the first time in for ever – and looked around my room. It was bare and calm. That was how I wanted to be.
Maybe I’ll stay here forever . . .
All I felt was the cool peace of relief. My planning and striving and fighting had finally been stripped away. For the first time in my life, I was alone with myself. Supergirl was gone so I didn’t have to stay strong.
It felt so good to slow down and stop fighting.
It wasn’t until the next day that I made it out of my room, floating in a body that didn’t feel altogether there. I wasn’t sick any more, just weak. The only challenge I had to face was making it to the living room couch.
Mum must have heard me because she appeared straight away.
‘Welcome back to the land of the living. How are you feeling?’ She unbuttoned her jacket and sat next to me. ‘I’ve got chicken soup, ginger tea, energy drinks, though I don’t really like those things.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Or I’ve got flat lemonade, for old time’s sake?’
My lips were rough and flaky. ‘Maybe . . . just water?’ I croaked.
‘Hmm.’ Mum frowned, patting her knees before standing up. She disappeared and brought back a big pillow, a blanket and a pile of Samantha’s old magazines before disappearing again.
I snuggled in, feeling safe, as if nothing could touch me. Mum came back with a glass of water and a steaming mug. ‘Here.’ She handed me the glass and put the mug on the coffee table. Then she set about collecting the TV guide and remote.
‘Well . . .’ She rubbed her hands together. ‘I’m glad you’re feeling better.’
I cleared my throat, trying to kick my brain into gear so that I could catch up to Mum’s speed. ‘What’s in the mug?’ I managed.
‘Ginger, lemon, and a good dose of honey. Just sip it when you’re ready, sweetie. I’ll be in the study if you want anything.’ She nodded before heading for the double doors.
‘Wait . . . Mum?’ This was all going too fast.
When she stopped and turned, I cleared my throat.
‘I . . . I’m sorry I yelled.’ I took a breath. ‘It’s just . . . It’s . . . I . . .’ Vague words drifted through me as I struggled to find the right ones: . . . . not sure . . . slow down . . . only human . . . None were words she would understand.
‘It’s been a hard few months,’ I finished.
Mum was still looking at me. After a while, she glanced down at the rug. When she looked up at me her eyes were clear, honest. ‘I know why you said those things, Jade—’
I shook my head and started to talk, but Mum talked over me.
‘—and you’re right. I don’t have all the answers. I wish I did! If there was a rule book for parenting, then heaven knows I’d follow it!’ She chopped her palm with her other hand. ‘Do ABC and your girls will be happy. Do XYZ and they’ll stay safe . . .’ She sighed and let her hands drop. ‘But there is no rule book. So I’m doing the best I can.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘It’s okay, Mum . . . I guess we’re both human.’
For a moment we looked at each other, a soft smile growing between us.
‘Well then. Good,’ she said after a while. ‘Can I get you anything else?’
‘How about chicken soup?’ I asked, though I wasn’t sure how I’d make it through all that liquid.
Mum nodded briskly. ‘Okay then.’
The room seemed empty when she’d gone.
For a while I sat and sighed and sipped. Then my eyes fell on the phone resting in its base unit.
Moving in slow motion, I swung my legs around to meet the floor. I stood slowly and didn’t get dizzy. Five shuffles later, I picked up the phone and called school.
‘Can I speak to Miss Paynter, please?’ Classes would have been over for the day, but I wasn’t sure where she would be.
‘Hello?’ She answered faster than I expected.
‘Oh . . . hi. It’s Jade Hopkins.’
‘Jade! How are you? I heard you got the flu.’
‘I guess . . . I was pretty sick . . .’ I trailed off.
Miss Paynter sounded surprisingly normal on the phone, not like the army sergeant I was used to. ‘So I should tell you, the team is already finalised. I’m sorry, Jade.’
‘Yeah, I guessed . . .’ I said, and sighed. There was a kind of peace in defeat.
‘Look, you worked like a champion these past weeks,’ said Miss Paynter. ‘I’d like you to try out for the team next year . . . and if you’re well enough, why don’t you come and watch on Friday?’
‘Really?’ My brain was still foggy. It took some time to adjust. ‘I can still . . . come?’
‘Of course, it would help you get a feel for the standard.’
I breathed in. ‘Okay, great . . . thanks.’
When I clicked off, a smile was growing with the surprise. I could still be there when Levi swam?
It wouldn’t be how I’d planned it, of course, and I wouldn’t be part of the team. But at least I could still be part of the celebrations . . .
Maybe the universe had been on my side all along.
By the time I heard Samantha’s key in the front door, I was surrounded by so many soups and drinks that the day’s challenge had expanded to include reaching the bathroom and making it back to the couch. Lots of times.
‘Hey.’ Samantha slumped in the armchair beside me, her long skirt falling softly. ‘Made it to stage two, I see?’
I could hear Mum talking fast on the phone in the study.
‘Yep,’ I grinned. ‘Soup kitchen’s open.’ I sat up and extended my arm like a waiter. ‘Would you like a drink, Samantha?’
She shook her head fast. ‘I think not! Keep your germs to yourself, thank you very much. You were out for like a whole day!’
I slumped back on the pillow. ‘Yeah, I don’t blame you, Sam. You don’t want to catch the Jade disease.’
She reached over and patted my leg. ‘Aw . . . I dunno. It hasn’t been all bad has it? Being human like the rest of us?’
I laughed and pretended to kick her.
‘Anyway, I’ve got something for you.’ Samantha was reaching into her satchel when Mum walked in.
‘Sa
mantha! How was uni?’ she asked.
‘Great . . .’ Sam pulled out two pieces of printed card. ‘It’s for the grand opening of our exhibition.’ She handed a card to Mum, then looked at me. ‘I know you’ve got swimming, but – here – since you asked for one.’
‘Thanks.’ One side of the invitation showed a reproduced painting of a field of tulips. ‘Hey, nice flowers,’ I said.
Samantha looked at Mum and breathed in. ‘Have you been able to reschedule your meeting?’
Mum was leaning back slightly, peering at the card as if the print was too small. ‘Well I’m trying, Samantha. There are some very busy people involved, sweetie.’
Samantha nodded, sagging slightly.
Mum was still peering at the card. ‘Free admission?’ she muttered.
‘Well . . . the exhibition’s to show our work, not to make money,’ Samantha said quickly.
Mum frowned over the invitation at Samantha. ‘Yes, but even to cover costs? I’m sure they’re going to have drinks and nibbles. Who’s paying for them?’
I could see the familiar creases on Samantha’s forehead. ‘I don’t know. The college will pay for that stuff, I guess.’
‘Hmm . . . They obviously have no business sense whatsoever.’ Mum dropped the invitation on the coffee table. ‘Maybe I’ll have a word to your teachers while I’m there.’
A spluttering sound came from Samantha, as if she was trying to breathe in and out at the same time. ‘You know what, Mum? DON’T BOTHER!’ she yelled. ‘If you’re going to be like that . . . then . . .’ She grabbed the invitation from the coffee table and slung her satchel over her shoulder. ‘Then I’d rather you didn’t!’
I watched Samantha stomp out of the room, feeling bad for her.
Mum raised her eyebrows and sighed. ‘Well then . . . back to the good old days.’
‘I’ll go see how she is,’ I said.
When I knocked on her door, Samantha didn’t answer, but I peeked in anyway. She was sitting on her bed, staring at the desk.
‘You okay?’ I asked.
Samantha nodded, clenching her jaw. Then she glanced at me. ‘You know? I thought I was over all that stuff . . . moving on and growing up. Then – boom – she says just the smallest thing, and I’m sucked back into it all again.’
‘Tell me about it.’
Samantha swallowed, her jaw muscles softening, eyes back to the desk.
I sighed and leaned my head against the door. ‘Don’t let her drag you down, Sam. It’s . . . she just can’t help herself . . . making everything into a life lesson.’
‘Lucky me,’ mumbled Samantha.
‘But it’s still your big day. She can’t change what it means to you.’
Samantha sighed. ‘Yeah, I guess.’ Then she turned to me. ‘I’ve been to enough of these things at high school without Mum coming. I’ll cope.’
‘Yeah,’ I smiled.
‘Thanks, Jade,’ said Samantha.
As I shut her bedroom door behind me an image flashed in my mind – Samantha standing at the exhibition with her skirt flowing softly at her feet. Around her people talked and pointed and nodded, while she stood to one side, by herself.
It was the first time I’d seen the future lit up in a long time. But it wasn’t a return of my old shining spotlight. This was the first time I’d ever seen the path ahead from someone else’s point of view. Maybe because this one wasn’t a future I was aiming for, it was a future that I hoped didn’t come true.
CHAPTER 15
For the rest of the week Mum and Samantha hardly talked. They barely even looked at each other. Samantha kept her distance and stayed in her room, while Mum stayed too Terminatorbusy to notice. I kept my head low. I still wasn’t well enough for school, so I took naps and read through old books.
When Rene heard that I was going to the Zone Finals as a spectator, she talked her mum into letting her go too. Every time she talked about it, she spoke about Marco and his goals for glory, but I guessed she also wanted to keep an eye on me. Typical Rene.
Not that I needed sympathy. It wasn’t the swimming, after all, that had driven me. It was the being there for Levi that mattered. Whenever I thought of him, I saw his jaw clenched hard and his focus on Friday’s competitors. Not long now, Levi, until you prove you can do it . . . then you can relax, and smile at me again . . .
It wasn’t until Friday morning that my phantom sister appeared long enough for me to talk to her properly. She burst out of the bathroom as I was headed in.
‘Big day, hey, Jade!’ Samantha said, breathless and steamy from the shower.
‘Yeah,’ I said, smiling at the excitement about her. I’d been through enough days like this to know how she was feeling.
Samantha kept going past me, hugging the towel wrapped around her. ‘And good luck, yeah? Knock’em dead, Supergirl!’
I watched her walking up the hall. ‘Good luck yourself . . .’
She waved before disappearing into her room. I sent an extra prayer after her. Enjoy the day, Sam. You deserve it, sister . . .
And then somehow, before I knew it, I was knocking on her door, just like I’d done so often lately.
As I peeked in, Sam was pulling on a long velvet dress.
‘Hey, you okay?’ she asked once she’d slipped her arms through.
I bit my lip and nodded. ‘You know, I didn’t make the team.’ I glanced at the bed, then at Samantha. ‘I’m not actually swimming.’
‘Oh . . .’ she stepped close and put a hand on my bare arm. It felt soft and warm. ‘That’s too bad, Jade. I’m sorry . . .’
I looked at her and breathed in. ‘So I was thinking, maybe . . . I might come to your exhibition.’
‘Really? I mean . . . of course,’ said Samantha quickly. ‘That would be great if, you want to.’ She was frowning and watching me closely in a way that made me sure I was doing the right thing.
‘I’d like to come,’ I said. ‘And we could go out for coffee afterwards, maybe?’
Samantha’s frown softened as her face broke into a grin. ‘You mean you’re changing your plans at the last minute? My goodness, Jade, you’re being spontaneous!’
‘Yeah,’ I said, and laughed.
When I called Rene, it took a while to explain what was going on.
‘And you’re sure you’re okay?’ she kept asking.
‘Yes yes, very sure,’ I said. ‘It’s complicated . . . but I can’t let Sam be alone this time. She should have someone there for her.’ I paused. ‘I was hoping, though, can you let me know . . .’
Rene didn’t need me to explain. ‘Of course! Say no more. I’ll be your eyes and ears, babe.’
‘Thanks, Rene,’ I said and hung up.
So this was how it would end . . . Levi would still swim his race and prove his point in the pool. He’d do it, I knew he would. The only difference was – when he touched that finish line, I wouldn’t be there to share it. It wasn’t about me winning him back anymore. It was enough to be about him winning.
When I got to Samantha’s uni, a familiar figure was standing beside the path and talking on her mobile. Her mouth was straight and shoulders square, suit jacket buttoned neatly.
I stopped beside her and raised my eyebrows meaningfully.
‘I’m sorry, Albert, something’s come up. Can I call you back?’ Mum switched off and frowned. ‘What are you doing here?’
I shrugged in mock innocence. ‘I could ask you the same thing, couldn’t I?’
Mum cleared her throat as a couple walked past us up the path. ‘Well, it’s important to Samantha,’ she said, as if telling me something new. ‘I should be here.’
I sighed. ‘Yep, we both should be.’
Mum looked through the entrance and breathed in. ‘All right then . . . Let’s go in.’
Together we walked through the foyer and into the exhibition room, sticking close like two kids at a new school. Maybe my trackies and a loose ponytail wasn’t exactly the right gear for an art display. Mum looked out of p
lace too – all angles and straight lines compared to the flowing, arty fabrics and meaningful make-up around us.
Just through the entrance we stopped and scanned the walls – flowers in vases, portraits of strangers, a huge spray-brushed unicorn.
‘Hey!’ A familiar figure weaved through the crowd. Samantha’s soft face and flowing velvet dress looked right at home. She was smiling, flushed, and came right up close, as if she was going to hug Mum. But then she stopped and stepped back.
Mum cleared her throat. ‘I hope you . . . I mean, I’m here to see your painting, Samantha.’
Samantha nodded. ‘I’m glad you came.’ She turned to me. ‘Both of you.’
I grinned. ‘Yeah, same here.’
Mum was nodding briskly, looking around. ‘It’s great, Sam. Really good, sweetheart.’
Samantha swivelled slightly. ‘Come for a browse?’
We started walking and I knew Mum was thinking, Which one is Samantha’s?
It wasn’t until we walked around a pillar that I saw it – storm clouds that looked eerily real with a tall figure in the middle. The figure now wore an oversized trench coat that billowed into a rippling fabric cave.
‘There,’ I said, pointing.
Mum and I went straight for it. We stopped in front of the painting, while Samantha hovered beside us, hands clenched at her chest.
For a while we stood and looked.
I felt lucky to have seen how the painting had developed while Samantha was working on it, and now to see it finished and fully realised. The main figure looked like a businesswoman, flying with her coat rippling out like a cape. Two figures had been added next to the big one, sheltered in her trench coat cave. I even started feeling proud when I realised the little kids were me and Samantha.
I turned to Samantha. ‘Hey it’s . . .’ But the rest of the sentence disappeared when I saw the look on her face. All colour had drained from her cheeks. She looked crestfallen, shell-shocked, speechless.
It wasn’t until then that I followed her gaze and felt a sudden shock hit me in the chest.
Right in front of us, in a room full of strangers, Mum had a fist pushed to her mouth. Her forehead was creased and ugly with emotion. And her eyes . . . She was crying.
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