Keeping Up Appearances

by Elizabeth Stevens

  I went through the day watching Jason being Jason; people calling out to him in the hallways for a moment of his attention, smiling and laughing with the group as they hung onto his every word avidly like it was law, and just generally being the cool, popular guy he was as Nancy clung to him like she might lose him if she let go. When (read: if) Jason noticed me looking at him, he’d pause and throw me a pleading look and I knew he wanted to talk. At the sight of it, I almost forgot that heavy sense of betrayal. But, then Nancy would look at me with this indecipherable look on her face and I felt it all over again, totally raw. So, I made it to the bus without losing my resolve to stand stoic and tall, and pretending I was untouchable.

  That resolve lasted until I got up to my bedroom and I fell face first on my bed, totally exhausted and not sure if I wanted to cry or not. My heart joined me in my exhausted flop and I was pretty sure it wasn’t interested in getting up either, no matter how many times my phone went off. We both just lay there thinking of Jason’s smile and the laughs we’d shared with him over the years.

  So, that’s where Mark found me God knew how long later.

  I heard his chuckle just as I heard his knock on my door. “It’s Monday, how hard could it have been?” he asked.

  I mumbled unintelligibly into my doona and he laughed again.

  “Of course. Couldn’t have put it better myself.”

  I lifted my head long enough to say, “shut up,” then realised that breathing was actually easier without my face in the blankets and I rolled over ungraciously onto my back and stared at the ceiling.

  There was a pause in which I could picture him – without even feeling the need to look at him – trying to decide if this was something he wanted to get involved with or not.

  “Is this period-related?” he asked hesitantly.

  I snorted humourlessly. “Unless you equate the pain in my heart to the pain of my womb trying to kill me once a month, no.”

  He came in and dropped beside me, joining me in staring at the ceiling. “Okay. What’s up, then?”

  “And, if I said it was period-related?”

  He sighed fatalistically. “Then I would lie here and listen anyway.”

  “You’re getting soft in your old age,” I said as I nudged him.

  He huffed a laugh and nudged me back. “Yeah, because nineteen’s ancient.”

  “You’re risking your reputation here, buddy.”

  I felt him shrug. “I’d only do it for you.”

  I smiled then, feeling the best I had all day.

  Mark was by all accounts a bit of a douche in his own right. But, I didn’t pay much attention any of that. I didn’t really care how many girls the rumours said he hooked up with or hearts he broke or stupid stunts he pulled, because when it came down to it he was my big brother and I loved him. He was all of about eighteen months older than me but we’d almost always got along pretty well. At school, he’d been Jason before Jason was.

  Mark nudged me again. “So, come on. Tell me what’s up. Did Nancy go get ice cream without you?” he teased in a baby voice.

  I sighed deeply. “Something like that. If ice cream was dating Jason and without me was the whole school seemed to know before I did.”

  He sucked in a harsh breath, all joking aside. “Ouch. Sorry, Doll.”

  I tried to shrug it off and felt tears welling.

  “Did you…?” He left the question hanging by a mile, but I knew what he was asking; there was very little about my life I didn’t tell him.

  I shook my head and wiped my burning eyes. “No. No, I found out in plenty of time. Well,” I amended, “in time.”

  “So, he doesn’t know?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. They didn’t see fit to tell me they’d hooked up on Saturday night and I only found out when I saw him kiss her at his locker this morning. I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “Well, it sounds like Nancy’s been a total bitch and Jason’s not much better,” Mark said as he pulled himself to sitting. “You want to stuff ourselves full of Nutella?”

  I shook my head again. “No, thanks. I have some homework to do.”

  “Hm…must be bad if you’re turning down Nutella. Let me know if you change your mind. I can only justify breaking my diet if it’s for you.”

  “Coach would kill me if I made you break your diet.”

  Mark laughed. “Yeah, well. What Coach doesn’t know won’t hurt him, will it?”

  I sat up and smiled at him and he grinned right back at me.

  Mark and I were obviously siblings; the similarities between us branded us as nothing less. We had the same mousy brown hair and vivid green eyes, although his were slightly darker than mine. We had the same shape nose and eyes and lips and we even smiled the same. He’d inherited a bit more height than me, but I took after Aunty Georgie that way. Not that I minded all that much; being as tall as Mark would have made me taller than Jason, and teenage boys seemed to have an issue with girls taller than them.

  But, I think we’ve well established that teenage boys are stupid.

  I nodded to Mark. “Okay. Maybe for dessert?”

  His grin widened. “Oh, mix up a nice sauce for ice cream?”

  I could almost feel the sugary goodness running through my veins and all my issues paled into an insignificance I could deal with just then. “Yes.”

  He rubbed his hands. “Awesome! I suppose I’d best get to practice then… If you won’t give me a reason to ditch,” he added accusingly. “I’ll see you for dinner.”

  He popped back into my room, kissed my hair and hurried out as I laughed, “Bye!”

  I dragged my bag towards my feet and started pulling stuff out – books, binders, pencil case, water bottle – pretending it was an integral part of my homework process. Really, I just thought it was justifiable delay tactics. I mean, how was I supposed to know what homework I had to do if I didn’t get everything out?

  My phone blooped a couple more times but – on seeing it was Nancy – I ignored it and instead moved everything over to my desk and started up my laptop. I had some reading for English as well as a test on the poetry module in the next couple of weeks to study for. Psych had a statistics quiz early next term and all the help I could get in that department would be great – even with weeks to go. Maths had the usual few questions for the next day that I’d put off over the weekend. French was thankfully homework free that night. And, I had an essay due for History at the end of the week.

  Plenty to keep me busy…

  If my damned phone would stop blooping!

  I unlocked it and looked at it. I had notifications from Nancy, Jason, Amy, Nigel, Jess, and…King Douche?

  I opened Messenger and saw the string of new messages. I bypassed the ones from my friends – former friends? – and opened the one from Xander. There was nothing but a winky face. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, trying to decide if I wanted to reply to him or not.

  I mean, I’d butt-messaged people before… But, Xander and I weren’t friends – on Facebook or in real life – so it would have been an exceptional butt-message for it to have come to me.

  Eventually, I couldn’t just leave it, so I settled for a

  Holly Aberdeen:

  You often stalk my FB page?

  I watched my phone like an idiot as it just sat on my desk next to me, pretending I was reading my Psych textbook. Finally, it blooped again and I snatched it up as quickly as if Jason had just finally proclaimed his undying love for me.

  Xander Bowen:

  If u accepted my friend request, it wouldn’t b stalking :P

  Holly Aberdeen:

  I can’t accept, we’re not friends.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  Now, if it was an enemy request? Well, that would be fine.

  Xander Bowen:

  Haha course it would.

  Xander Bowen:

  y don’t we just call it an enemy request & not tell any
1 otherwise?

  Holly Aberdeen:

  Can’t.

  Xander Bowen:

  y not?

  Holly Aberdeen:

  I’m allergic to accepting any sort of request from people who don’t use proper grammar.

  Xander Bowen:

  It’s called text-speak.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  It’s called lazy.

  Xander Bowen:

  Seriously?! How old r u?

  I decided not to respond to that.

  Eventually, he did.

  Xander Bowen:

  Fine!

  Xander Bowen:

  Holly, would you please accept my request?

  See, I didn’t even call it a ‘friend’ request…

  Holly Aberdeen:

  I see why you use shortcuts – you type slow, man.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  And, no. I think I like having you beg for it.

  Xander Bowen:

  I’ve never had to beg anyone for anything in my life and I don’t plan to start now.

  I believed that. Stories said, every girl was more than willing for anything he suggested.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  Then we shall be enemies in real life only *le sigh*

  Xander Bowen:

  I’m not above…persuading you, though… ;)

  I really wished I hadn’t read that in the exact way he’d have said that. Repulsive or not, it gave a girl a shiver.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  Lol, and how do you plan to do that?

  Xander Bowen:

  Just be my usual charming self.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  I thought we’d established you’re not charming?

  Holly Aberdeen:

  Also, shouldn’t you be at practice?

  Xander was in the same club team as Mark, the practice to which Mark had alluded earlier. It was an unfortunate coincidence I happened to know where he was meant to be.

  Xander Bowen:

  I wager the acceptance of my request that you’ll find me charming by the end of term :D

  Xander Bowen:

  Who says I’m not?

  Holly Aberdeen:

  And, if I win?

  Holly Aberdeen:

  You’re awfully chatty for a guy at practice.

  How does El Captain feel about this?

  Xander Bowen:

  Then I’ll punch the git for you.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  I feel like that’s a reward for you…

  Xander Bowen:

  All right then. Whatever you want?

  Xander Bowen:

  Also, we’re taking a break. And, your brother doesn’t care. He’s on his phone, too.

  I was rewarded with a picture of Mark indeed on his phone on the other side of the locker room. He was also mostly naked so I tried to erase it from my memory as quickly as possible. Thankfully, Xander sent another message so the picture moved far enough up the screen that the scarring bits weren’t visible anymore.

  Xander Bowen:

  If you don’t think I’m charming by the end of term, then I will owe you whatever you like.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  That’s a dangerous wager. You that cocky?

  Xander Bowen:

  I am ;)

  I snorted to myself, knowing full well he was referring to more than one thing there. Then suddenly wondered why I found anything about the King of the Bows humorous.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  And, who’s judging?

  Xander Bowen:

  I’m just cocky enough to trust you not to lie to me, Holly.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  You’re so cocky, you’re going to trust me to admit I lost?

  Xander Bowen:

  You’re just that trustworthy.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  You’re just that delusional.

  Xander Bowen:

  Regardless, do we have a wager?

  I was one hundred and twenty percent confident that there was absolutely no way I would ever find Xander Bowen charming. So, why not?

  Holly Aberdeen:

  I’d spit on my hand and shake yours, but that’s a little hard online.

  Xander Bowen:

  I’ll claim it tomorrow then.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  What makes you think I’ll talk to you tomorrow?

  Holly Aberdeen:

  We’ve just talked more in the last ten minutes than we have in our entire lives.

  Xander Bowen:

  See, I’m charming ;)

  Holly Aberdeen:

  I think that’s enough interaction to last me at least until…the intercol :P

  Which was, conveniently, not until closer to the end of next term.

  Xander Bowen:

  I’ll make you a side wager – that you talk to me tomorrow.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  I’d take you up on that, but I think it’s unfair when I already know I’m going to win :P

  Xander Bowen:

  We’ll see.

  Holly Aberdeen:

  Bye, Xander.

  Xander Bowen:

  See you tomorrow :*

  I closed the app and actually got into some study without getting too distracted. Putting my Messenger notifications on silent had helped, but it only meant that there were about thirty more waiting for me when I finally looked at my phone again.

  I was torn. I sort of wanted to know what Nancy and Jason had to say. The rest were just my friends asking me if I was okay (or the usual group chat conversation which looked like it was full of ‘Jason loves Nancy’). And I appreciated that, but I didn’t want to go into my completely ridiculous freak out; now I was in it, I didn’t know how to get out. But, I also didn’t want them to know I’d read the messages and not replied. There was something worse about that somehow in my head.

  I think we’ve established it can be a fairly strange place up there, though.

  So, I was sticking to my guns.

  I felt betrayed by my former two best friends, and I was going to continue avoiding the subject for as long as humanly possible. Of course, avoiding the issue meant not talking to them and not talking to the rest of our friends. I wasn’t convinced I’d get away with it without looking like even more of a dick. But like I said, I had no idea how to get around it without talking to Jason and Nancy.

  And, I honestly didn’t think I could handle that like a civilised human being.

  I might have been able to manage it like some kind of swamp monster; snot running everywhere while I balled my eyes out and screamed unintelligibly at them.

  But, that somehow seemed worse than the ignoring them thing.

  By the time I’d finished my more pressing homework and justified my actions to myself, my name was being called from downstairs. It was my dad and apparently it was dinner time. Well dinner I liked, my dad not so much – there wasn’t anything inherently wrong with him, he just went with the whole friend-over-father parenting technique and honestly that lost him points; sometimes a kid just wanted some discipline, not a lax curfew or a beer with dinner.

  But dinner with Dad also meant dinner with Mark, so that was a plus.

  I wandered downstairs in half my uniform, having kicked off my shoes, untucked my shirt and loosened my tie. It felt an awful lot like one sock had fallen down and I resolved to wear stockings the rest of the winter terms so as to avoid looking like an idiot more than absolutely necessary.

  “There you are, Dolly!”

  Oh, good. Dad’s girlfriend was over, too…

  My eyes found Mark and I glared at him for not warning me Tammy was downstairs. I noticed his hair was still wet, so he must have gone late at practice and only just got back home; Mondays, the team did fitness and they usually elected to swim.

  That explains the almost nudie shot from Xander.

  “How was your day, Dolly?” T
ammy gushed and I held back the retch that was usually my reaction to the way she always called me Dolly; so sickeningly preppy and in every sentence she directed straight to me.

  I hated it when she called me Dolly.

  Dolly, or Doll, was a family nickname given to me by Mark when he was little because he’d been confused between Holly and dolly and there was something about me looking like a little doll; trust me, that phase didn’t last long.

  Tammy was new to the family and Mark and I were still supposed to be playing nice with her. We didn’t have this problem with Mum; her beau was pretty cool and insisted we didn’t pander to him because he had to earn our trust and affection. Tammy, though, was hands-on. Mum said it was because Tammy thought that was the best way to get to know us. I decided it was the best way for me to put my foot in my mouth and tell her to piss off.

  Mark gave me a knowing smirk he tried to hide behind his beer and I stuck my tongue out at him.

  “It was fine, thanks. Nothing to report.”

  “Your test was today wasn’t it, Dolly?”

  Mark barely hid a snicker under a cough.

  “French vocab, yeah. We have them pretty regularly. You would have thought we’d have learnt it all by now, but…” I shrugged and gave her my best semblance of a smile. “Where’s Doug?”

  “Outside,” Dad answered. “He and Vern found something to stick their noses in and have been busy ever since.”

  I frowned and looked towards the back of the house as though that was going to magically give me x-ray vision and I was going to see our goofy dog and equally weirdo cat; the cat had basically brought the dog up so he thought he was a cat, all thirty kilograms of him. Likewise, the cat had been brought up by Mum’s dog so had some very dog-like moments. It was a shemozzle.

  “He’ll know it’s dinner. He’ll be in soon,” Dad continued as he served up said dinner.

  And, like clockwork, the dog door crashed open. Then the giant slobbering furball that was Doug came tearing inside followed by a daintily trotting Vern, tail stuck up in the air like a periscope. I’d been informed many times this was not normal cat behaviour, and it did not surprise me in the least if it was something Vern did.

  I bent down and patted them. “Hey guys. How’s your day been?”

  I felt sort of terrible that I’d been so stuck in my own world that I’d ignored my two furry munchkins. I felt terrible about that and only mildly blasé about ignoring two people who had been my best friends for years. So, what did that say about me as a human being?