by Wendy Harmer
I wonder if things go missing for a reason. As if by their absence, they might be trying to tell you something. To make you see life in a new way. Then I think of my lost friendship ring and I wonder what that means for Will and me?
I hate thinking stuff like this!
The bell rings and Will and I trudge back across the oval, not looking at each other.
Monday night.
Two days PM.
'So, here's the plan,' says Tilly, in between blowing on ten perfectly painted purple fingernails.
She leans over the pile of junk on her unmade bed in the South Wing of Buckingham Palace and looks me straight in the eye.
'I happen to know for a fact that Jai is always making moves on Lily Cameron from Year Twelve. Georgie Daniels told me.'
I gasp, even though I wouldn't put anything past Jai. Does Bianca know about this? If she did, she would be devastated.
'We all have a good laugh about it,' Tilly giggles and wiggles, swishing her hair over her shoulders. 'Lily goes out with Jai's older brother Jayden, right? So she's over at his house a lot. Every time Jayden's not looking, Jai's showing off in front of Lily – bombing her in the pool or parading around in his bathers and showing off his weedy body. She said he's even asked her out! Even though he's two years younger. Can you ever imagine a Year Twelve girl going for someone like Jai? It's so utterly pathetic!'
I can't help feeling sorry for Bianca. If Will ever did that behind my back . . .!
'So this is what we do. We have to get Jai in some sort of compromising position with Lily – without Bianca or Jayden knowing. I snap away and then post the photos. Lah de dee, la de dah!' Tilly clicks her fingers in front of my nose. 'No more Jai and Bianca. And of course, Jayden will be totally furious! He'll want to kill Jai! That should teach him a lesson.'
I'm not feeling entirely comfortable with this. Apart from not particularly wanting to break up Jai and Bianca, I'm not even sure it's legal.
I tell Tilly that I think this is called 'entrapment' and lean over to google it on her laptop. I find 2,610,000 mentions.
Entrapment is the inducing, by a law enforcer, of a person to commit a crime which ordinarily they may not have been likely to commit. In some circumstances entrapment may serve as a defence against criminal guilt.
'That's what Bianca and Jai did to you! OK, they're not law enforcers – but apart from that, it's exactly the same,' Tilly continues. 'You were making an idiot of yourself . . .'
I wasn't making an 'idiot' of myself. I was just having fun. It was supposed to be private. I never thought for a moment that the pictures Bianca took would end up on the net!
'. . . and all of a sudden there's a camera in your face,' says Tilly.
She's right. There was that bloke who plays footy for the Sovereigns who came out of the London Tavern drunk. Some girls followed him and filmed him on their mobiles and that footage ended up on the TV news! Like Tilly's boyfriend Eddie says – there are cameras everywhere these days. Soon everyone will have to have an extreme makeover just to go down the shops.
'I reckon what happened to you sounds like "entrapment", don't you?' argues Tilly.
I have to nod that it does, but I can't believe Bianca did it on purpose. She's usually guilty of being brainless more than anything else. Why would she want to humiliate me?
'You know what I reckon, Els?' says Tilly as she slumps back on her bed and attacks herself with lip balm (again). 'I reckon Jai and Bianca did it so that Will would see the photos and then dump you.'
I'm shocked! Well, I suspected this, but to hear it out of someone else's mouth! Could Bianca really be that calculating?
'Bianca's a blonde bimbo and she's totally jealous of you. Anyone can see that,' Tilly snorts.
If this is what Jai and Bianca had in mind then it WON'T WORK! Even if Will did see those dumb shots, he wouldn't care! Our relationship is stronger than that.
Now I'm angry!
'The thing is,' says Tilly. 'All the girls at Oldcastle adore Will and all the boys want to be like him. And you're the one that got him. You're pretty, and intelligent. You two are like this perfect, golden couple.'
I have to smile. That's what it feels like when I'm with Will.
'So of course everyone wants to break you up! People hate perfection. It just makes them feel inadequate. And that bully Jai is leading the way.'
Well, if that's what they really want, I'll never give them the satisfaction. I tune in to all the details of Tilly's plan and I have to say, it's perfectly evil! Bring it on!
Back in The Dungeon I'm tempted to go on Jai's FacePlace again and see if anyone else has had anything rude to say about me. But I manage to hold back from torturing myself one more time. Like Will says, anything that's on there's not really real.
Instead, something Tilly said about Jai being a bully makes me think and I google 'cyberbullying'. There are 1,130,000 mentions.
Cyberbullying is when one or many people use technology such as the internet, mobile telephones or other electronic devices, to mock, embarrass, insult or defame another person or persons.
That's EXACTLY what's happening to me! So what should I do? There's plenty of advice here.
Tell your parents.
I did that already and what did Mum say? 'Turn the computer off.'
Tell your teachers.
Hah! Like the crocks at Oldcastle High would take me seriously! My English teacher, Mr York, is the only one who's got a FacePlace site and there are these pathetic pictures of his sad model trains on it! Like Mum, the teachers would just say 'put down your mouse and walk away'.
BTW: Isn't it weird that all the advice about how to deal with cyberbullies tells you to turn off the computer – but if you didn't have your computer, where would you go for advice?
I don't know what I'd do without the internet. Being without my mobile is bad enough . . . but the net?
Don't even talk about it!
I search around a bit more and there is one paragraph here that catches my eye: Like drinking and driving, the internet and emotions should never be mixed. Don't react or you could end up being a cyberbully yourself.
Is that what Tilly's plan might do? Turn me into a cyberbully and escalate this whole thing into World War III? Still, I can't be a wimp about it – Jai started it so he will get what he deserves! If he feels inadequate now, wait till I get through with him. He'll be lower than a snake's armpit.
Friday afternoon.
Six days PM.
It's been the longest and boringest week of my entire life. The weather in Oldcastle has been really bad – rainy and windy. It should be spring, but this October week feels more like winter. At least I know that I haven't missed a thing without my mobile, because there's been nothing to miss.
I spent a lot of time this week in The Dungeon working on the latest edition of the school newsletter. This is my first year as Editor-in-Chief. I like being the boss, even though I only have a staff of one – Karen Crenshaw, who does all the design. When Mr York gave me the editorship, the first thing I did was change the name from Ye Olde Castle News (!) to the Posh Post. (You know – after Victoria Beckham, AKA Posh Spice, who's modern English royalty. Geddit?)
Well at least it's a new joke. Even if sometimes I think there's nothing new about Oldcastle.
Seriously, Ye Olde Castle News was ye olde rag! There has to be more to life at Oldcastle High than the usual brain-numbing reports from school excursions and the sports results: Once again the senior football team showed they were the equal to any school in the Britannia District League with a convincing win over Lady Jane Selective High.
The next thing I did was take the newsletter online, which made it so much more eco-friendly. The old printed newsletter was just another thing to chuck away. So now the Posh Post comes out every month at www.poshpost.oh.au. It's got heaps of good stuff on it – links to other websites, photo galleries, articles, cartoons. I've made a page for book, movie and television reviews. There's also a gallery fo
r celebrity sightings (unfortunately that idiot Bad Mickey B's on there) and it's where I was going to post the pic of Bianca and Hugh Jackman – the pic which is now (shudder) gone forever!
I took the pic on the red carpet at the Majestic Movieplex premiere of Australia last year. Bianca's leaning over the railing as Hugh's walking past and you can see half of her face behind his left shoulder. It's the first and only time I can remember any real celebrity visiting Oldcastle, so I can understand why Bianca's so dark at me for losing it.
Anyone can post comments on the Posh Post site if they want, although I get to choose what goes up, 'cos I'm the webmaster. But so far most comments, apart from the insulting anonymous ones, are tedious letters from teachers. I have to use them. Sigh! So the Posh Post is a lot more dreary than I'd like it to be. The students around here don't seem to care much about what goes on the site, but I do. I'd like to be a journalist one day and Mr York says he'll count my work on the Posh Post as part of my exam results.
'You're quite a tidy writer with a very entertaining turn of phrase,' says Mr York as he scrolls the pages. 'I certainly think we'll be seeing the name Elly Pickering in the media in future.'
Only thing is, he fancies that I will be reporting from a war zone in the Middle East and I'd like to be a fashion writer. Not that reporting on fashion around here has much of a future: This sizzling summer in Oldcastle the hot look is T-shirts, singlets, cargo pants and rubber thongs – the same as it was last season . . . and the one before that.
Since I came home from school I've been putting together a photo gallery of the school senior football final. (OK, there are some things I have to do, but at least it's a fun slideshow with some music behind it.)
It's also been a lonely week because I'm still avoiding Bianca. That's been easier without my mobile. The hideous pics of me were still in Jai's great photograph album in cyberspace last time I looked. Which is making me madder and madder. I can only think that Tilly's absolutely right and that Bianca is being jealous and destructive. All Bianca has to do is the right thing. As soon as Jai takes the stupid pics down, I will call off Tilly the attack corgi.
The other downer is that I haven't been able to talk to Will. He's been away from school on some surf camp with the Year Ten boys all week. At least I know he still won't have seen the pics Jai put up, 'cos it's strictly 'no computers' at school camps, and Will's even less interested in looking at FacePlace on people's phones than he is on a computer.
It's been driving me crazy not to hear his voice. I've been spending hours looking at a photo gallery I made of him – Will lying in the sand, his golden hair tangled in seaweed; Will's great big feet crusted with pearly shells; Will way out the back suspended in a blue, blue ocean, sitting on his board and waving to me. Honestly, he is the most gorgeous boy in the world! Maybe he's not an elf or a faerie or an angel. Maybe he's a merman.
LUWAMH XXXX
Tilly's putting her plan into action tonight. Lily Cameron has told her boyfriend Jayden that she's having a 'girls' night in' and can't see him. Then she's going to ring Jai and ask him to drop by her house with a couple of free Palatial pizzas. Tilly will be there with her camera and try to get Jai into the spa with Lily. Then she'll snap away! Tilly says Lily's only too happy to put them on her FacePlace mirror and then . . .
ROFL
It'll also serve him right for hitting on her behind his brother's back! Jayden will go seriously mental.
So now all I have to do is keep myself occupied until the balance of the universe is restored. I hear my mum come in the door and make the usual greetings.
'Here, Harry. Here, Harry,' she calls. 'Look at you! Good dog.'
I swear she looks forward to seeing that mutt more than she does me. I decide to make one more attempt on the mobile front. It's been almost a week now and being without it is killing me. Didn't I say that a sharp, fatal blow to the head from my mother would be a better way to die? I was so right.
I walk to the kitchen and see my mother whacking a frozen lasagne into the oven and then pouring herself a massive glass of red wine.
'Get off there, Camilla! Get off NOW!' she screeches at the cat.
I make a tactical decision not to ask her about getting a new phone.
'Hi darling,' she says wearily. 'Can you watch this lasagne and get it ready for dinner? I've spent the afternoon in Diana's Bouquet and I have a massive headache. I hate jonquils. They stink! I'm going to have a bath.'
When I see her drag herself towards the bathroom and leave her phone on the bench, I pounce and ring Will. He'll be back from surf camp now, surely.
'Yeah,' Will drawls.
Again, the sound of his voice washes the doubts away. I'm so excited to talk to him. It's been four whole days! I've been having major Will withdrawal pains. I ask him what surf camp was like. Did he catch any good waves? Did Mr Battenburg, the Year Ten coordinator, get any? Or was he a total wipe-out like last year? Who did Will hang out with? What was the food like? Any embarrassing gossip?
I ask him all this, even though the only thing I really want to know is: Did you miss me?
'It was all, you know, cool,' says Will.
And that's it for the whole surf camp topic. Sigh! He really isn't into talking on the phone. Then I ask him what he's doing tonight?
'Nothing much,' he yawns. 'Weather's pretty crap. I might stay in.'
I tell him I can come over to his, or he can come to mine and we can maybe watch a DVD or . . . something (I'm thinking smooching in The Dungeon).
'Nah, I can't. Mum's making us all a big dinner – some Spanish rice thingo. What . . .?' (And here Will calls to his mother, who must be standing close by.) 'Paella . . . Mum says it's called paella. Anyway, she wants me to stay in so . . .'
So there goes my Friday night! I tell him I really need to see him this weekend and he mumbles back that if the surf's good he might go to Hammerhead tomorrow. I ask him what time, exactly, he'll be there ('cos we can't ring each other).
'Uh, look, I'm not sure –' He hesitates. 'Gotta see what the surf's doing. I can't make it blow offshore whenever I want. I can't tell you what I've done and where I'm gunna be every minute of every day. I'll see you, so stop stressing out on me.'
I'm so surprised by his tone of voice that I ring off and dump the phone on the counter. It's like a chill winter wind has stirred the branches of Lothlórien wood.
This is Jai's scabby work! I'll bet Will has seen the pics and, just as Jai wanted, every time Will thinks of me he sees me covered in yoghurt, dribble or hair. This is beyond depressing! After all, aren't I Will's 'little leg rope'? He always says that I'm strong and independent and he's never complained before that I crowd him. Maybe I am giving him a hard time. Without my mobile I can't help thinking that everyone's talking behind my back.
I didn't get to mention the dance coming up soon. There's lots of stuff to arrange. Who's dropping us off? Who's picking us up? What are we going to wear? I have to look OTT this year and with money tight and everything I'll probably be forced to make a secret raid on the heap of clothes on Tilly's floor. I know she's got some great stuff – somewhere under there. Even if Will is a bit turned off by those pics of me, my utterly gorgeous Tilly ensemble will obliterate them from his mind!
I drag my sorry self back to The Dungeon and slump in my chair. When I look at the screen I see that there's an eye2eye from Bianca on FacePlace.
Hey Els. Reeelly miss U. Jai out with boys. Wanna catch movie?
BXXX
In truth, about the last person on earth I want to see is Bianca Ponsford, but then I remember what Dad says: 'Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.'