“Then you’ll be fine,” Kayah says. “Besides, no one else wants to do it.”
Finn lets out a sigh. Because it feels strangely like Camp Nowhere all over again.
“So what are you going to say?” Nona asks her.
“You do realise that I just found out I’m making a speech. I have absolutely no idea.”
“Better get on that, then.” Nona gives her a cheesy grin. “Remember, you have to say something about how great this place is and how much we need it. For kids like me, escaping from my homophobic parents.”
“Of course I will,” Finn says. “Hey, are you back at home yet?”
“Yeah, a few days ago.”
“Now she’s just not allowed at mine,” Bea says.
“Why not?” Rosie asks.
“Bea’s dad caught me outside her window the other night.” Nona grins. “Now I’m not allowed over there for a month.”
“And that’s getting off lightly,” Bea adds. “I thought it’d be a year.”
“I thought it would mean no getting off,” Kayah says with a grin.
“Oh, don’t worry about us,” Nona says, waggling her eyebrows. “We have our ways. And our places.”
“I do not want to know,” Kayah says.
“There’s no way I’d ever bring a guy to my house,” Andy says, looking glum. “Mum and Dad might be just coping with my gay status, but I don’t think they’d cope with that.”
“Definitely not.” Rosie pulls a terrified face. “Mum wouldn’t know what to do if you brought a guy home for dinner. He better be into Vietnamese. Actually, he probably better be Vietnamese.”
“Is Willa allowed over at your place?” Andy asks Finn.
“Yep. Mum basically invited her for dinner the minute I told her. She loves playing supportive Mum.”
“Wow,” Nona says. “Is she allowed in your room? Bea and I have to stay in the living room the whole time.”
“Yeah, but there’s a strict door-open policy.”
“So they’re cool about the bi part, but not so much about the sexual part,” Kayah jokes. “That’s how mine used to roll too. So annoying.”
Finn laughs, but her chest tightens. She could never admit to anyone that she’s actually grateful for the open-door policy. Because it saves her having to figure out why she’s still stalling with Willa, keeping things very much in the kissing zone. Why she’s stalling even though she finds everything about Willa so mind-bendingly hot.
She hasn’t talked to Willa about it either. Mostly because she’s not sure if she wants to know how Willa feels about it. Because what if Willa’s secretly really frustrated but doesn’t want to say? What if she’s sick of waiting for Finn to get over this…whatever it is?
“Hey, Finn, you have to say something about the holiday programs we have too,” Kaya says.
“Um, sure.” She shoves the thoughts back and opens her notebook. “What else?”
CHAPTER 45
Willa
Willa had forgotten about the morning History excursion. She swore loudly last night when she found the permission slip in her diary and had to trudge downstairs to ask her dad to sign off on it. But once they’re on the bus leaving the suburbs behind and a cool blue day is eking its way into being, it doesn’t seem so bad. Better than double Japanese, anyway, a class where Eva will probably ignore her, just like she’s done since the presentation.
Camp Nowhere must have had some effect on Willa, because there’s this weird sense of nostalgia flooding her as they take off along the steep bush trail. She feels alive and awake as fern fronds brush at her legs and the huddled trees share their clean, cold breath. She even almost enjoys the dull ache in her calves from the uphill climb. Almost.
They’re walking a bush track that was built into the mountains to commemorate the Australian soldiers who fought and lost their lives on the Kokoda trail in New Guinea during World War Two. It’s this week’s Australian History topic. Possibly Willa’s least favourite subject.
But as she trudges up the rough steps, she imagines the slow march of soldiers through mud-thick jungle somewhere across the water. So many of them died on that track, in conditions so bad that more of them died from the jungle terrain and illness than in actual battle. It’s weird. She knows all the facts of that wartime corner of the world, thanks to the test she studied so hard for last week, but she still can’t imagine such a brutal experience. Some of those soldiers were only a few years older than her, and they were sent to this strange place to watch their friends die, and maybe to die themselves.
And now Willa’s watching her supposed friends march up the track ahead of her with Holly and Ling. If it was this time last week, maybe she would have caught up to them, latched onto the chatter. But not now. Not when Eva gave her the weakest of smiles this morning but kept on walking straight past her and onto the bus.
It’s her own fault. This is exactly why Willa didn’t make friends at Gandry. She has no idea how to do this stuff, how to make and keep friends. And she had no business trying. Even Kelly and Maida were an accident. They were just those two girls who were always playing on the street together until Nan started minding Kelly sometimes. That was back when Kelly’s grandfather was still alive and someone cared if she was looked after.
Kelly would come to their house after school a couple of nights a week and even stayed on weekends sometimes. At that relentless proximity, even the impossibly shy nine-year-old version of Willa managed to make friends. And with Kelly came Maida, always. But it was easier then, when friendships were forged on games and dares and the sharing of discoveries about the world. Not feelings and girl things and trust.
Now Willa wishes she had stuck with the plan and kept Gandry Girls High strictly workplace. Get in and get out with accolades, the reputation of the school, and the marks to get into her choice of courses. Friendship was never part of the plan.
It bugs Willa that now she wishes she was walking with the girls. That she feels like she’s missing something she didn’t even want a few months ago. She should have kept her head down and minded her own business. Then she would have stayed the hell out of Eva’s too. Then there’d be no guilt. And no annoying feelings.
At some point near the top of the track, Amira turns around, spots Willa straggling, and waves for her to join them. Willa just pretends to misinterpret it and waves back like she’s saying hi and puts her head down again. On the way back to school, she sits with a girl she barely knows from English who argues on the phone with her boyfriend all the way home. Willa shuts her eyes and wishes she was anywhere but on this bus.
All through lunch, which she eats in the study lounge alone, and then in her afternoon classes, she tries to tell herself to let it go. That she hasn’t even been friends with these girls that long. She has no responsibility to Eva or Amira or any of them beyond school stuff. Still, the harder she’s tried to push the worry away, the harder it works to sneak right back in.
After school, Willa hangs back and watches Eva and Amira say goodbye at the gates. They kiss each other’s cheeks, Gandry-style, and Eva trudges away, her arms folded over her chest. Willa watches her move down the hill, willing herself to just head for the bus stop like she’s supposed to.
Instead, cursing herself, she turns and dashes to the tram stop instead. Amira’s on the bench, waiting. She’s staring at her phone, one headphone jammed in her ear. She grins when she sees Willa. “Hey! Where the hell have you been all day? You getting the tram?”
Willa shakes her head and stares at the stragglers at the bus stop across the road gossiping and laughing and shaking off the day.
“Check out this.” Amira holds her phone up in front of Willa. There’s a model staring boldly at her, trying to sell her some kind of mascara. “Do you know what depresses me?” She doesn’t wait for Willa to answer. “That eyebrows have turned into these ugly painted streaks, instead of the fluffy random scribbles they used to be. It’s sad.” She holds up another photo of a girl with two thick, bla
ck-arrow shapes painted over her eyes. “I mean, whatever happened to subtlety?”
Willa shakes her head, because she has no clue what Amira’s talking about. Only that she wants it to stop. “Hey, I want to ask you something.”
“Sure. What?”
“It’s about Eva.”
Amira looks up, frowning. “What about her?”
Nerves push at Willa, but she pushes them back. Because she can admit to herself now that her conscience isn’t going to let her leave this friendship behind without doing the right thing. And that means at least being sure that someone else knows about Eva. She drops down next to Amira and lets the story out in a thick rush, skirting the things Eva told her about her brother, because she promised not to tell. She doesn’t skimp on the rest, though.
“Now she’s not really talking to me,” she says. “So I can’t say or do anything. But…but I thought I should tell someone.”
A tram slides up to the stop, picking up the clusters of girls standing around them. Amira doesn’t get up. Instead she lets out a sigh through her nose. “Bloody Eva.”
Willa stares down at her hands. “I feel bad for talking behind her back, but—”
“Dude, don’t feel bad.” Amira loops an arm through hers. “You did the right thing. If there’s one thing that girl sucks at, it’s cutting herself some slack. And getting help when she needs it. She just needs a kick up the butt every now and then.” She gives Willa a weary smile. “That’s where I usually come in.”
Willa smiles back, rushed by relief.
“I didn’t even notice anything. She’s been hanging out with you, studying at lunch, and saying she’s busy out of school.” Amira clicks her tongue. “I kind of feel like a shitty friend now.”
“So do I,” Willa says. “Maybe I should have said something to her earlier, but I don’t know her that well, and I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it.”
“It doesn’t matter. You said it to her now. And now she knows people are paying attention.” Amira pulls her bag onto her shoulder and gets up. “I’m going to go and talk to her.”
Willa stands too, breathing easier now. Even if Eva is never her friend again, at least someone will be on her case.
“And don’t worry,” Amira tells her, like she knows what she’s thinking. “She’ll get over it. Then you two can be geek buddies again, and I’ll keep trying not to be jealous.”
“What?” Willa’s eyes widen. “Really? Of me and Eva?”
“Maybe a little bit sometimes.” Amira shrugs. “It’s no big. I know she’s still my girl. And I’m glad someone hunted down the human inside the Willa bot. Turns out she’s kind of cool.”
Willa can’t help smiling at her. Because whether she likes it or not, Amira is her friend now. And she probably likes it. A lot.
Amira grins back at her, shading her eyes from the sun. “I better go.”
“Hey.” Willa bites down hard on her lip. “Please don’t tell her I told you.”
“Try and stop me.” Amira shrugs at Willa’s horrified look. “Don’t worry, Willa. She’ll get over it, I promise. It’s pretty poor form to hate on your friends for trying to help you, and she knows it. She’s just too caught up in her crap right now to remember.” She grabs Willa’s wrist. “Look, Eva’s kind of tense, but she doesn’t do grudges. Trust me. I’ve been putting up with that freak show since primary school. I’ll see you Saturday,” she says pointedly, squeezing her wrist and dropping it. And then she’s off.
Willa watches her saunter down the hill, looking anything but like she’s about to solve the problems of the world. But that’s the awesomeness that is Amira, she’s discovering.
CHAPTER 46
Willa
Willa can’t help it. She’s nervous. Even though Eva texted her this morning and apologised for snapping, and told her she hoped she’d see her at the party tonight. Even though Willa’s going to the party with Finn, who is completely, annoyingly okay with walking into a room full of strangers in the name of supposed fun. Even though both Kelly and Maida say she looks hot in her silky sleeveless top and with her hair all out for once.
“Seriously, gorgeous,” Maida says as she carefully adds mascara to the eyeliner Willa lets her apply because she knows it’s that kind of party.
And when Willa looks in the mirror, she almost believes them.
The babysitting excuse went out the window when Riley asked if she could stay over at Lefah’s on Saturday and Jack reminded her he’s going to Tyler’s slumber party. Suddenly Willa was whisked free of responsibility.
When she joked to Finn about how close she came to getting out of the party, Finn pulled a face. “Why are you trying to get out of it? Parties are fun. You’re supposed to want to go. You do know that, don’t you?”
“Um…” Willa shrugged. “Maybe?”
Finn grabbed her hands. “Oh my God, Willa, we’re going to the party. I want to see the girls from camp. And seriously, you need to learn how to be a normal teenager. Nan will be home soon, and you’ll be required to leave this house after dark from time to time. By me. So let’s practise, huh?”
Willa pulled a face, but Finn just squeezed her hands even tighter, like she was going to drag her then and there. “It’ll be fun. I promise.”
And somehow, Finn’s enthusiasm made her believe it would be. Until now. Because now it’s Saturday night, and she’s staring down the barrel of forced socialisation. Now she’s wishing she could just hide somewhere, preferably under a rock, instead of standing here, blinking at the mirror and waving away Maida’s proffered lipstick.
“Nope, down, girl,” Kelly says on her behalf. “Too far. Willa’s not a lipstick kind of girl. Nice try, though.”
“I’m really not,” Willa says. Besides, how’s she supposed to kiss Finn with lipstick on?
Maida’s face falls. “It was worth a shot.”
The doorbell rings, and Willa runs for it.
Finn’s eyes widen the moment Willa opens her front door. “You…look…amazing,” she says.
“I’ll just be one sec,” Willa bites down on a smile. She dashes down the hall, following the sounds of cricket commentary.
“I’m going out,” she tells the back of his head. “Lefah’s mum has my number if there’s any trouble with Riley. Jack should be fine. They’ll call me if he isn’t.” She takes off before he can even turn around. She grabs Finn’s hand, waves goodbye to the girls, and slams the door behind her, feeling the instant, intoxicating rush of freedom. Maybe this isn’t so bad at all.
They eat dinner in a buzzing little café that smells like baked bread and spices. Restaurants and cafés at night have never been part of Willa’s existence. Nan prefers her own cooking to everyone else’s. It’s healthier, she always says. They probably don’t have the spare money to eat out anyway. So Willa’s never really done this, she tells Finn—eaten a proper dinner in a place where she wants to eat the food, with someone she wants to eat next to.
“Don’t worry,” Finn tells her as she fills her water glass. “It’s just like dinner at yours, only you don’t have to cook and we can actually talk to each other without gagging Riley.”
But later, when they jump off the tram and follow the street numbers east, the jittery sensation returns. Because she’s about to be thrown to the Gandry Girl wild.
The party is huge, taking up an entire restaurant. The huge part was expected. How could it not be, with Amira’s relentless social butterflying? But Willa had just assumed it would be some kind of super-cool school thing, full of all the glam girls and their dates dancing and being shiny. She wasn’t expecting the giant family gathering, with adults filling the front tables, eating and drinking and talking, or the little kids chasing balloons and each other between them. Beyond the seated crowd, she can see girls from school standing under shifting lights in small groups.
“You came!” Glitter falls from Amira’s hair as she pounces on Willa. “And you look so pretty! I mean, you’re always stupid pretty, but even more tha
n usual—I hate you!” She turns to Finn. “Hi!” Finn too receives smacking cheek kisses.
Amira drags them along with her, stopping every now and then at family tables to chat and joke and accept an army of kisses. She leans over to listen to a little boy telling her something, then engulfs him in a cuddle. Willa watches her friend throw her exuberant warmth around the room and likes her even more than she already did.
Eyebrows raise slightly at the sight of Willa, but the Gandry girls act chill, like Gandry girls do, and smile and say their hellos. Daunted by small talk, Willa stands at the edge of the crowd, clutching Finn’s hand as she chats to Holly. How does Finn just know how to talk to people? And how does she always find something to say? Willa has no idea what she’s supposed to talk about.
A hand lands on her arm. “Hey, Brookes.” It’s Eva, looking delicately pretty in a green, sixties-style dress.
Willa feels the tingle of nerves but forces a smile. “Hi.”
“I’m really sorry about the other day. I get lashy when I’m stressed.”
“And I’m sorry I told Amira.”
“Yeah, I guess should be mad at you, but…” She shrugs and smiles, looking around at the crowd.
“I didn’t tell her about your brother, I promise.”
“I know. Thank you. I ended up telling her anyway. She’s kind of pushy, if you haven’t already noticed.”
“I’ve noticed. She’s great, though.”
“She is.” Eva stares at the ground for a moment before finally looking up to meet her eye. “You know, I’m not deliberately starving myself. This is not some eating disorder thing.”
Willa stops herself from raising an eyebrow. It isn’t?
“I’m just not great at talking about things, and I guess when it gets too much, it comes out other ways, you know?”
Willa nods, thinking of that moment of panic in the hospital hallway. She remembers how Finn said that was about Willa’s feelings finding their way out, even if she didn’t want to let them. She wonders just how similar she and Eva are.
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