‘Why?’ I ask.
‘Because we have a guest,’ she says.
I look away and roll my eyes so she can’t see. For one thing, our guest seems to be at our place a little bit too much to be called that. I mean, he made the dinner. And for another thing, it seems pretty ridiculous to set the good table when he’s flopping about with his old trackie dacks and bare feet.
The good table is in the lounge room. We each take a bowl of chicken curry in there. Nobody notices Dad up on the mantelpiece, which is good. Mum would probably chuck it if she did. Plus, it’s kind of cool knowing he’s there when no-one else does.
‘Oh. My. God,’ Romy says. ‘This chicken curry is amazing. What’s in it?’ I give her a kick under the table as I take a mouthful. It is pretty good, but I wish Romy wouldn’t be so over-the-top about it.
‘Why, thank you, Romy,’ the Feral says. ‘It’s an old family recipe, but I think what makes it special is focusing on good energy while you cook it. A pinch of care, a dash of tenderness, you know?’
I look up at Dad. I swear he’s gone pale.
‘Sweet,’ Romy says, as though what he’s just said are not the words of a madman. It’s seriously annoying.
‘So, what’s happening with you, Hazel?’ Mum asks and I know she’s just trying to get me to talk because I’ve barely said a word. She’s probably worried that I’m making our guest uncomfortable.
‘Nothing much,’ I say. Except that I’m number seventeen on the hot list. Except that everyone else has got their period and there’s probably something really wrong with me and I’ll probably end up dropping off the list altogether and be a little girl forever. Except that your boyfriend is taking over our lives.
‘Dee Dee tells me you’ve got some really nice friends, Hazel,’ the Feral says. ‘That’s great. True friends are good for your chakras. The input of energy …’
‘I have homework,’ I say. I can’t listen to any more of this stuff. Mum glares at me. ‘May I be excused?’ I add.
Mum and the Feral exchange looks like I’m the problem.
‘Okay,’ Mum says.
As I go to my room, I hear Romy’s voice. ‘Can I have seconds, please?’
I close my bedroom door so I don’t have to hear them all talking.
After dinner, the Feral goes back to his place to finish a painting or something, thank god, so I finally have Mum and Romy to myself.
‘So,’ I say, while we’re doing the giant load of dishes the Feral’s just left there on the bench. Mum’s washing and Romy and I are drying. ‘Jess got her period.’
I pause, waiting for Mum and Romy to react to the news. But it seems I have to spell it out.
‘I’m the last one in my group to get it now. I might be the last girl in my year, even.’
‘Or the last girl in the universe,’ Romy teases, flicking me with her tea towel.
‘This is serious,’ I say, and just to prove it, I don’t even flick her back. ‘Mum, you have to take me to the doctor. We need to find out what’s wrong with me!’
Mum doesn’t reply straight away. She carefully washes the last plate before she turns to me.
‘Hazel, I know you’re worried, but everyone’s different. Like Jason says, we all have to learn to be happy in our own skin and it’s really negative to work against yourself. You don’t need to see a doctor, Haze. Your beautiful body will be true to its own timing.’
Now I can see why it’s taken her so long to answer. She had to channel the Feral. It’s like he’s taken over her brain!
I’m furious and I’m hurt and I wish he would disappear from our lives and from Mum’s brain so she could go back to being a proper mum who cares about me and would definitely take me to the doctor.
I throw my tea towel on the dish rack and storm out of the kitchen. If there was a door into the hallway, I would slam it. I storm down towards my room.
My bedroom has a slammable door, so even though Mum totally hates it when we do it, I give the door a good, satisfying slam.
I lean my head against the door. I can hear Romy trying to talk Mum into taking me to the doctor, and that makes me feel a bit better about her being all nice to the Feral at dinnertime. And then I hear them still talking about me but I can’t hear what they’re saying.
I flop onto my bed and pull the covers over my head to shut out the world.
Five minutes later, Mum knocks on my door. ‘Hazel?’ she says.
I keep my head under the covers and don’t answer her. She goes away.
A bit later, I hear someone come in. I peer out from under the covers and see Romy as she sits on my bed.
‘Haze, I’ll take you to the doctor’s if you want,’ she says.
I push the covers away and sit up.
‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘But don’t you think it should be Mum who takes me? You know, this is all because of the Feral. He’s ruining everything. I just wish things were back to normal.’
Romy lies down next to me, looking up at the ceiling.
‘I don’t think we should call him that anymore,’ she says. When she’s the one who actually made up the name in the first place. ‘The thing is, we might get into the habit and then we might end up saying it in front of Mum and that wouldn’t be fair to her, you know? We don’t want to hurt Mum, do we?’
I shake my head. Of course I don’t want to hurt Mum. I just want her back.
‘Okay,’ I say tiredly.
Romy gives my back a little rub.
‘Think about it, Hazel,’ she continues. ‘He’s not that bad. At least he’s interested enough to ask us lots of questions, even if they are a bit drippy. And Mum just reckons that you’re perfect the way you are. She says you’re not sick so there’s no need to take you to the doctor.’
I bite my lip so I don’t cry. I’m not perfect the way I am. That’s the problem. There’s something wrong with me. Something is stopping me getting my period. Even now it’s running around in my head like it did at dinnertime. I could be stuck as a kid forever. I’ll slip off the hot list altogether. Then I’ll probably be out of the popular group and … It’s exhausting just to think about it.
Romy turns on her side to look at me. ‘The period stuff aside,’ she says, ‘I think you have to ask yourself whether it’s Jason you don’t like — or whether you just don’t like Mum having a boyfriend.’
She squeezes my arm, gets up off my bed and walks to the door. She’s leaving me with the question, but it’s one I don’t think I can answer. There are too many thoughts swirling in my head.
Maybe I am being unfair about ‘Jason’? Maybe it’s all this stuff about not getting my period and the hot list and worrying about keeping up with my friends that’s making me like this. But I just feel so mad with Mum, and so annoyed at him.
‘It’s him, of course.’ I say it to myself, under the covers, but I’m not so sure it’s true anymore. Maybe I’ll feel clearer about it when things settle down with Jess. That thought makes me feel a bit better. By the time I get to school tomorrow, Jess will probably be used to having her period. It won’t be that big a deal. She probably won’t even mention it.
I let that thought drift around in my head and finally fall asleep.
‘Can you check the back of my dress, Haze?’ Jess whispers.
I sigh. I’m glad that school is just about over. I’ve checked the back of Jess’s dress about a hundred times already today.
So much for things settling down. So much for Jess not mentioning having her period.
I wonder if I could make this into a career? Professional back-of-dress-checker. I reckon I’d get the top job — I’ve got good experience.
‘Haze?’ Jess hassles. ‘Did you look?’
‘Hang on,’ I say. I’ve had three classes with Jess today, and she’s asked this every time she’s got up from her seat. Part of me wonders if Jess is just trying to rub in the fact that she has her period and I don’t.
I glance at the back of her dress yet again. But then I see it. Ther
e is actually a spot there. It’s only small, but it’s definitely blood.
‘Stop walking,’ I say.
I say it a bit like there’s a big hairy spider on the back of her dress. I feel a bit panicked. This is serious! There are people everywhere in the quadrangle, like there always is after the bell goes. Jess would die if anyone saw the blood!
It’s a warm day and we’re not wearing our jumpers, so I can’t tell Jess to tie one around her waist. Luckily, Edi and Olympia come up. I point to the spot.
Olympia thinks the most quickly. ‘All right,’ she says, her voice calm and even, ‘Jess, we’re going to walk behind you to the toilets. No-one will be able to see.’
We get Jess safely to the toilets. Jess races into one of the cubicles to change her pad.
‘We need hairspray,’ Edi says.
No-one really questions her. Sometimes when we’re on Facebook Edi has to sign out because she has to do housework or washing, so I guess she knows stuff like this.
Olympia nods. ‘Lucky you’ve been getting us to check all day!’ she calls to Jess over the toilet door. ‘And lucky you spotted it so soon, Hazel,’ she says to me.
Jess flushes the toilet and comes out to wash her hands.
‘Imagine if one of the boys saw it first!’ says Jess, drying her hands on the front of her dress.
I guess I should feel bad to discover that Jess was getting Edi and Olympia to check her dress, as well as me. But it actually makes me feel better. It means Jess wasn’t just rubbing it in. She was honestly worried.
Olympia races off to get hairspray out of her locker. When she comes back, her face is flushed. I can tell she’s been running and I get a funny feeling. I wonder if she would do the same for me? But here we are, all sticking together. And right now, Olympia feels like a good friend.
At the back of my mind I’m worried that I’ll be late meeting Romy at the bus stop. We might miss the first bus to Dad and Lisa’s, but this is more important. I can always send Romy a text.
Jess stands there in her dress while Edi sprays the spot with hairspray and sponges it with cold water and paper towel. Then Edi lifts the back of Jess’s dress right up to dry it under the hand dryer. Jess’s undies are showing, and she keeps trying to turn to see if the spot’s gone.
Someone comes into the toilets and we all look up in panic.
It’s Alice. Jess quickly pulls her dress down to cover her bum, but the back is still wet.
‘Oh,’ Alice says, stopping in the doorway. ‘Everything all right?’ she asks, and I can tell by her voice she’s figured out what’s happened.
‘Yeah, fine,’ Jess says. It’s probably just because she’s embarrassed, but the way Jess speaks to Alice is a bit sharp. I feel bad for Alice because it’s like she doesn’t know where to look.
‘Don’t tell anyone, okay?’ Edi snaps.
Alice looks hurt. ‘I wouldn’t do that,’ she says and her normally bouncy voice is small.
The saying see ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya jumps around in my head as Alice turns and walks out of the loos. I wish I had said something nice to her.
We get Jess’s dress dry with the hand dryer and then I race off to meet Romy at the bus stop. I can’t wait to see Dad. He was overseas last week, so Romy and I didn’t get to see him for our usual Wednesday sleepover.
I love their apartment. It’s big and shiny and new and you can see the city lights at night.
And I need a break from the whole Mum and Jason thing.
Even the lift at Dad and Lisa’s apartment is amazing. It’s on the corner of the building and it’s made of glass, so you can see the whole world as you go up and down. Romy and I both dive at the button for the fifteenth floor. I’m first, as usual.
‘Wonder what’s for dinner,’ Romy says. ‘Sick soup?’
I’m glad I’ve just had a chocolate bar on the bus so I’m not too hungry. Lisa isn’t much of a cook, and Dad’s probably never cooked a meal in his life.
‘Vegetable vomit?’ I join in.
I like this game, but Romy always starts it because she’s so obsessed with food. I’m sure it was the chicken curry that made Romy go all soft on the Fer— … on Jason.
It was pretty good, much as I hate to admit it.
The lift door opens and Dad and Lisa are standing in the doorway of the apartment. Dad opens his arms and I run into them.
‘Hey, Dad,’ Romy says, avoiding the hug and walking down the hallway.
Romy is sort of a mummy’s girl. I’m definitely more of a daddy’s girl.
‘Hey, munchkin,’ Dad says, landing a kiss on the top of my head as he lets me go. He holds me out at arm’s length to get a better look at me, then pulls me into a big hug. ‘How’s my baby girl?’
I should tell Dad sometime to stop saying things like that. Who knows, it might be this kind of stuff that’s making it harder for me to grow up properly. But it never feels like the right time to get him to stop. And part of me never wants him to.
When Dad has finished choking me and ruining my hair, I put my bags down and give Lisa a hug. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dad taking my bags into the apartment.
He hates mess. So does Lisa. There’s no way they’d leave yoga mats in the lounge room or dishes everywhere. They’re both wearing their home clothes, their relaxing clothes, but even their relaxing clothes are neat and tidy. Lisa is wearing a long jumper and beige leggings, her blonde hair tied back in a tight high ponytail. Dad’s wearing tan pants and a polo shirt. His hair is cut even shorter than usual and it makes me think of Jason with his dreadlocks and his paint-splattered trackie dacks.
‘I’ve made an eggplant and asparagus quiche,’ Lisa says as we go into the lounge room. Romy and I exchange grimaces when Lisa’s not looking. ‘We can eat whenever you’re ready.’
‘I just have to do a tiny bit of work before dinner,’ Dad says.
I feel a surge of disappointment. Dad’s idea of a tiny bit of work is everyone else’s idea of a huge great chunk of work. At least he’s not like Jason, just hanging around all the time like he doesn’t even know how to work hard, but still, I can’t help slumping.
‘Why don’t you give the girls their presents from Paris, Lisa?’ Dad says, as he heads into the study.
I’m not so disappointed anymore. Lisa might not be very good at cooking, but she’s really good at choosing gifts.
‘The presents are in our bedroom,’ Lisa says. ‘Want to come up?’
Romy and I follow Lisa, and I can tell that Romy is excited too because she actually moves faster than a snail for once.
Lisa and Dad’s bedroom is upstairs. There’s hardly ever any reason to go up there since it’s just their bedroom and an ensuite, so I’ve forgotten how amazing it is.
It’s huge. The carpet is cream with black, curved lines running through it. The cover on their king-sized bed is black, which might not look so good except for the cream and red cushions positioned perfectly against the headboard. I have no idea how they do it, but there’s not so much as a wrinkle in the quilt cover. There’s a red armchair in one corner, and you can just glimpse the city through shimmery, see-through curtains. There’s nothing? lying around that shouldn’t be there.
‘Sit on the bed, girls,’ Lisa says.
Romy and I look at each other and I know we’re thinking the same thing. We’re going to crinkle the quilt cover. We sit lightly, our feet touching the carpet.
‘So, Romy. You first,’ Lisa says.
We watch as Lisa opens the door to her walk-in wardrobe. Everything in there seems to be colour-coded.
Mum’s room couldn’t be more different. She doesn’t have a walk-in robe or an ensuite, or anything flashy at all. She has loads of paintings on the walls and clothes tossed over her chair and a rainbow quilt cover. But the funny thing is, if I had to choose my favourite bedroom, I’d say Mum’s. It’s cosier. It also has Jason in it half the time, though. I so don’t want to think about that.
‘Here you are, Romy,’ Lisa says, gi
ving her a box. Lisa slips off her shoes and leans back against the headboard.
Romy opens the box. Inside is a pair of black boots with wedge heels. ‘Oh my god,’ Romy breathes. ‘These are awesome!’
Romy’s school shoes are off and the boots are on in about two seconds.
‘They fit perfectly!’ she squeals. ‘You knew my size?’
‘I checked with Diana,’ Lisa says. I can tell that Lisa is rapt that Romy loves the shoes. It sort of loosens Lisa up.
It’s strange to think that Lisa and Mum have had a conversation about Romy’s shoe size. I’ve only ever heard them talk about arranging visits and school work and uniforms and stuff. Mum keeps those conversations pretty short. And since I’m normally with Mum when she’s on the phone with Lisa, I often see her rolling her eyes as though talking with Lisa is a real bore.
Romy struts around the room, kicking her legs up so she can see the boots better. She goes to the full-length mirror for a better look.
‘I look amazing,’ she says in a funny voice, doing kissy lips at her reflection.
Lisa laughs and it’s really funny. I’ve heard her laugh before, but this isn’t her normal, polite little chuckle. It’s more like a snort. I think Mum might like Lisa better if she heard that snort.
‘Don’t even think about it, Hazel,’ Romy says, doing another lap around the bed.
I giggle because I am thinking about how I could wear a few pairs of socks and then the boots might even fit me.
‘Now to you, Hazel,’ Lisa says with a big smile. ‘Your dad and I had big discussions about your gift.’
‘Really?’ I say. ‘Why?’
‘Well, he wanted to get you something from the toy department, and I said you were getting a bit old for stuffed animals,’ she says. ‘So in the end, we compromised. Or maybe we doubled up.’
Lisa gets two presents from her wardrobe. The first present is wrapped in tissue paper and when I unwrap it I see it’s one of those super-wrinkly dogs. It’s so adorable. The fur is soft and shiny and his eyes look almost real and I can’t help giving him a hug even though Lisa is right, I’m probably too old for this kind of thing.
Waiting for It Page 3