‘Think less room service and more concrete.’
‘Ahh,’ Leah says, recalibrating her tone to empathy. ‘And how was school?’
‘Terrible. Distract me. Tell me something. Tell me about your weekend.’
‘Well…’ There’s something in her voice, a spark that I know can only mean one thing.
‘Who is it?’ I ask, trying not to groan. I’m worried about how Leah will deal with the cycle of elation and heartbreak without me just around the corner for compulsory nightly debriefings and emergency consumption of chocolate.
‘I don’t know…’
‘Who is it, Leah?’ I ask again.
‘Um, it’s Brendan. I think he asked me out.’
‘Well, finally.’
We spend the next half hour talking about Brendan. Leah talks and I mostly listen. I don’t tell her what I really think: he’s too old for her, he’s probably a bit of a douche, it won’t last and will end badly. I love Leah but not in the tell-her-the-absolute-truth-about-everything kind of a way, more in the be-available-to-assist-in-the-inevitable-event-of-disaster way.
Eventually she says goodbye and we promise to talk again the following night. I hang up and for the first time since we left, reality hits.
I’m here. Home is packed up and gone. Leah is far away. Starting at a new school is worse than I even imagined it would be. A year feels like such a long time, too long, and all I want is for everything to be the way it’s meant to be, the way it usually is. I hate this stupid town, this ugly motel. I hate being new. I hate sharing a room with my brother. I hate Mum for bringing us all here. I hate myself most of all, for not putting up more of a fight, for agreeing to this move.
Chapter three
Tuesday and Wednesday are a blur of trying to find the right classrooms, looking for places to sit when all the seats seem to be already taken, and spending every spare minute of recess and lunch in the library hiding at a corner desk surrounded by a book fort.
After the first day, I don’t even try to make friends. I focus on catching up with work instead. I figure if I’m going to have a shitty year I may as well get some good grades out of it. It seems I am now Teflon Girl. I catch my classmates looking at me sideways, but whenever their gaze meets mine their eyes skate off like I’m difficult to see. Nobody says anything to me. Nothing friendly. Nothing unpleasant. Nothing at all. It’s like I’m invisible. Nothing sticks. I keep telling myself, over and over: it’s just a year. I can make it through a year. Then, on Thursday morning, I’m walking through the quadrangle on the way to homeroom when I hear someone yelling ‘Hey!’ and the sound of footsteps running towards me. I turn and see the white-haired bakery girl, whose name I know from roll-call is Kat, with a big grin on her face. I frown. She’s been sitting next to me all week ignoring me; why is she suddenly so friendly?
‘How’s it going? I’m sorry I missed you the first few days. I’ve been home sick. Stupid sinuses, I think I’m allergic to grass or something. Which is like, crazy, right? I live on a sheep farm and I’m allergic to grass. Huh. How’ve you been going anyway?’
I look at her blankly. I don’t understand.
The girl slaps herself in the middle of her forehead. ‘Ah crap. You didn’t know, and I didn’t tell her to look out for you. You must think I’m a complete bitch. You may have seen Kat, my sister. Twins, you know? I’m Helena. She can be, well it’s not that she’s not friendly, but she just gets lost in her own head a lot. She’s always thinking. She got all the brains and I got all the looks…’
‘You’re… identical?’ I say.
Helena laughs. ‘Even our parents get confused sometimes. But I’m definitely the hot one. Walk?’
And we head towards the D block.
We have English, music and drama together. Helena fills me in on stuff in whispers, shares her notes with me, chooses me every time there’s the opportunity to work with a partner. On the one hand, it’s nice not to be invisible. On the other hand, it almost makes me miss my old school and Leah even more, because having to make conversation and smile and listen all day to someone who I don’t really know is exhausting.
When the bell goes for lunch I pack my stuff up and start to head over to the library but Helena grabs my arm.
‘Come, meet the crew. I mean, if you want to?’
‘Okay, thanks,’ I say and she grins.
The thought of spending a lunchbreak with other human beings suddenly feels like not such a bad thing. I’d tried to convince myself that the library strategy was working for me, but the truth is I don’t want to spend all my time alone.
I follow her out through the quadrangle then across the oval. I think I see the spot we’re heading for. There’s a big gum tree on the other side, next to the fence. It casts a circle of shade on the dry grass. Helena starts waving before we’re anywhere near the tree.
‘You guys! I missed you!’ she yells and I feel a sudden sting. She’s been off school for three days and is acting like she hasn’t seen her friends in a year. I’m going to be stuck here, without Leah, for the next twelve months. Missing Leah is like having a sore tooth: sometimes it just niggles and sometimes it aches, but the discomfort is always there, every second of every day. Right now, it feels like I need major dental surgery and some serious drugs. I take a deep breath.
‘Guys, this is Abbie. I told you about her, right? She’s just moved up from Sydney? Abbie, this is Cara,’ Helena points to a girl sitting in lotus pose in the shade, who waves back and mumbles something unintelligible through a mouth full of sandwich. Cara has blue hair with a short, slightly wonky fringe, and is wearing a black velvet choker around her neck. She seems to have a lot of cleavage.
‘And this is Zeke.’
‘Hey,’ a guy with scruffy brown hair and grey eyes gives me a quick look before frowning back down at the textbook and notebook that are spread open on the ground in front of him. It’s only a momentary look but it’s enough to make me suddenly flush. He’s cute. Not the kind of hot-guy cute Leah would drool after, but my type of cute – a little bit off-centre.
‘Don’t mind Zeke. He’s got a test,’ Helena explains. ‘You don’t happen to be any good at differential equations do you Abbie? He’s asked both of us and we can’t help.’
I feel the heat move down my neck. ‘Um, I could have a look….’ Maths has always been one of my good subjects.
I dump my bag and sit down next to him on the grass. I look at the equation he’s stuck on and after a minute I can see where he got it confused. I scrawl some quick notes and show him how to fix it.
‘Wow, thanks,’ he says looking up, and this time his face is brightened by a smile.
‘No worries,’ I grin back. I can’t help it.
His eyes aren’t just a regular grey, they’re the colour of storm clouds but flecked with emerald, and he has freckles on his nose, and his hair seems to stick out in three different directions at once. ‘I would have sat and looked at that equation for the next half hour and totally freaked myself out,’ he says. ‘And then I would have failed the test.’
‘He would have,’ Helena says. ‘You’ve saved us all some pain.’
‘Maths is a mind game, Zeke. You can’t let the numbers know you’re scared,’ Cara mumbles, mouth still half-full of sandwich. ‘So, Abbie, what do you think of Derro so far?’
‘Um,’ I start.
‘You can tell us the truth. We know it’s a shithole. Whereabouts in Sydney are you from anyway?’
‘Surry Hills,’ I say, happy to avoid the original question.
‘That’s just up the hill from Central Station? Cool location. My auntie lives in Sydney but she’s like a million miles out. It takes about three hours to get to the city from her place. True story. Your parents must be loaded to live in that close.’
‘Um,’ I say again.
‘Cara!’ Helena says, though she’s laughing as she says it. ‘You don’t say that to people.’
‘Say what?’
‘That they�
��re loaded…’
‘Why not? I don’t care. It’s only money.’
‘I live with my mum,’ I say quickly. ‘My dad’s overseas. Mum’s a doctor. Our old place was, well it was a great location but it was a bit run down. It was freezing in winter and there was damp in the walls and in summer it was so hot you could hardly breath. My bedroom was upstairs. Some nights I totally couldn’t sleep it was so hot. And then there were the cockroaches…’ The string of consecutive words coming out of my mouth has caught me by surprise. I guess five days of talking to nobody other than my family has taken its toll.
‘Cockroaches, yewww…’ Cara says.
‘So where are you staying now?’ Zeke asks, looking at me curiously.
‘At the motel. We’re renting a place a bit out of town but the real estate agent’s doing some work on it still.’
‘Whereabouts out of town?’ he asks.
I shrug. ‘Down some dirt road in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t really catch the name.’
‘God, I hope it’s not the O’Reilley’s place, that would be fricking insane,’ Cara says, and I see Helena frown sharply and Zeke narrow his eyes and shake his head.
‘What? What?’ Cara looks from one to the other of them.
‘You have no tact,’ Helena says. ‘And besides I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t rent it out. Not after what happened.’
I try not to look completely clueless.
‘Do you know?’ Zeke asks me. I contemplate lying but decide that honesty is the safer option. I shake my head.
‘Oh shit, Cara, great work,’ Helena says.
‘You don’t remember from the news?’ Zeke asks again. ‘About the O’Reilleys?’
I shake my head again.
‘It’s pretty much the only time Derro’s been in the news,’ Cara says. ‘Our moment of glory.’
‘Geez, it’s not like we won a prize or something,’ Helena says, then turns to me. ‘It was about a year ago,’ she starts. ‘It was really horrible. Rebecca O’Reilley was in our year. I mean she was in my tech studies class.’
I must be looking as blank as I feel.
Zeke looks at me. There’s something very gentle about his expression. He speaks slowly and in a low, quiet voice. ‘Rebecca O’Reilley and her parents were killed. They were stabbed to death in their home. Rebecca’s brother Damien was arrested the next day. It’s not a big town. We all knew them.’
‘Oh god, that’s awful,’ I say. A shiver moves through me.
‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,’ Cara says, ‘I just assumed you knew. I mean, given as how Rebecca’s dad was the old GP and your mum’s got his job.’
Chapter four
Mum had told me Derrington was a small town that needed a doctor, but she hadn’t mentioned it was because the previous one had been murdered.
I can understand why she didn’t say anything. Now that I know, part of me feels chilled, like something is permanently blocking out the sun. It’s horrible. It must have been so shocking for a town this size to lose a whole family in such an awful way. I have a vague memory of hearing about it on the news at the time. It was just one of those things that was too awful to contemplate, so I’d kind of just zoned it out, I guess.
And now we’re here. And horrible as it all is, with Helena and Cara and Zeke looking out for me I’ve started to think perhaps I’ll be able to make it through the year.
The next day I get to homeroom early, grab a seat, get my notebook out and start looking over the homework assignment we were given for biology. I’m starting to feel okay – I know where my classes are and there are familiar faces in just about all of them.
Then I realise somebody’s saying my name.
‘Abi-gail… Abi-gail…’ They’re saying it really quietly in a kind of a creepy, sing-song way.
Kat, who I now know is definitely not Helena, looks up from her book. She catches my eye and shakes her head like she’s trying to tell me something. I turn around. It’s Dave Hill, the guy who made an entrance on Monday. He’s leaning back in his chair, balancing it at an improbable angle. Any further and it’ll tip.
‘Word is your mum doesn’t mind a bit of muff, Abi-gail. Think she’d be up for a threesome? I should make an appointment. I’m sure I’ve got something that needs examining…’
I flush and turn away. I feel sick but I try to focus on the page in front of me, like I can pretend I never heard. For a second there’s dead silence in the classroom. Everybody is waiting to see what I’ll do next.
‘Yeah Davo, I’ll let Dr Fray know she’ll need her microscope.’ Kat gets a few loud laughs.
I look across at her and she shrugs.
‘Dave Hill’s a dick,’ she says. ‘Always has been, always will be.’
‘What is it with Dave Hill?’ I say to Helena as we make our way to D block after recess.
She does a full body shudder. ‘Where should I start? How about the time he took my scissors without asking and used them to cut a wart off his thumb. Or the time he lost it at Mr Markov and punched a window and broke it and there was blood everywhere…’
‘But why does he hate me so much?’
Helena stops and turns. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, he hates me. He doesn’t know me from a bar of soap and he actively can’t stand me.’
‘I don’t think he likes anyone very much,’ Helena says, but she says it in a kind of mumble that makes me think she’s hiding something.
‘But why is he so awful?’
‘Have you met his dad?’
I shake my head.
‘Grade A asshole. My dad went to school with him. It definitely runs in the family.’
We reach the classroom and head in. At least I’ve got Helena, I think. And Cara and Zeke. I can’t imagine how hard the week would have been if I hadn’t met them. But still, it stings to be hated so intensely for no reason at all. It’s not something I’ve ever experienced before, and more than anything I just want to know why.
Somehow I make it through the week. On Friday afternoon after the final bell goes, Helena drags me out the front of the school and we wait on the street for the others. I see kids looking at me as they go past, whispering to one another. I’m probably just imagining it, but I could swear they’re detouring to avoid having to walk past us.
‘So, you’ve survived!’ Helena’s cheerfulness seems to know no bounds.
‘I probably wouldn’t have without you guys.’
Helena looks over my shoulder and starts to wave like she’s signalling a plane in to land. ‘We’re heading down the main street for hot chips and milkshakes. You coming?’
I’m about to say yes, when I remember – I have a phone date with Leah in half an hour. For the first time ever, I think about cancelling. But only for a second. I couldn’t do it. Leah and I don’t cancel on each other.
‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘I’ve got something else I have to do. I’d love to though.’
Helena’s face falls momentarily, then brightens again. ‘Well, walk with us at least. We pretty much go past Quiet Waters on the way. We can detour a little. No objections to a detour, guys? For Abbie?’
Cara and Helena pick up the pace and fall almost instantly into a heated debate about an episode of the Bachelorette they watched on TV the night before. Zeke settles in beside me.
‘So how are you going? Homesick?’
I shrug. ‘A bit, I guess. You guys have been so nice to me, though. It definitely makes it easier.’
He looks sideways at me. I feel my skin warm at his smile.
‘Plans for the weekend?’ he asks.
Then I remember. ‘Oh god, we’re meant to be moving into the house…’
‘If you need a hand, I can lift stuff. It’d give me a break from helping my dad out.’
‘Doesn’t sound like much of a break,’ I say.
‘You know, a change of scenery and all that,’ he says and again, the grin. Yowsers, I can feel that grin in the pit of my stomach. ‘
You want my number?’ he says. ‘Just in case?’
‘Sure,’ I pull my phone out and pass it over. Our fingers touch for a moment and I get tingles all up my arms. I look at the ground while he types something, then he hands the phone back.
‘You know it’s a big deal for Derrington, having a doctor again. I know you probably feel like you’ve landed in the middle of nowhere. The least we can do is make you welcome.’
‘Ah, Zeke you’re basically a marshmallow,’ Cara says, and I realise we’ve caught up with her and Helena. She hooks an arm through his, then turns to me, dark eye-liner making her eyes look even wider, the blue of her irises matching the blue of her hair. ‘He’s just the softest, sweetest, gooiest, warmest, fuzziest –’
‘Hey, enough already,’ Zeke says. ‘My ears are burning.’
‘Put him on a stick and roast him on the fire,’ Cara says.
‘Geez Cara,’ Helena says, but Cara just grins.
When I get back to the Motel, nobody else is home. I jiggle the key in the lock to open it, and as I step in I spot a piece of paper on the doormat – probably a message about room-service or breakfast options or something. I go to pick it up, then I see what it says.
I freeze. The door clicks shut behind me.
The letters are big, all capitals, scrawled with black texta. I scrunch it up and throw it in the bin before I have the chance to think about it. My heart is racing and I feel suddenly shaky, like I’m going to cry.
I don’t want Mum or Stacey or Tom to see it. They’re all so happy to be here. They believe this is our shiny fresh new start and people will be welcoming and things are going to be great. I don’t want to burst their bubble. Not yet. I pause for a moment and listen. For a second I’m convinced that there’s somebody in the motel room, waiting for me. I look around. Everything looks exactly the same as it did when I left, and I can’t hear anything. I’m just being paranoid, I think. Some cowardly fuckwit slid a note under the door and ran off. I take a couple of deep breaths to try to steady myself, then go back over to the bin and pull the note back out and smooth it out on the table.
Mirror Me Page 2