by Amra Pajalic
Mum nodded, her head bowed.
‘I saw Frankie,’ I said, after Dido had marched out.
‘How is she?’ Mum asked absent-mindedly, her focus on the stubborn packing tape around the box in her hands.
‘She said she hasn’t heard from you in a while.’
‘Mmm,’ Mum murmured, ripping open the final box. The phone rang.
It was Safet. I went to my bedroom and lay on the bed. Why didn’t Mum and Frankie care about not talking to each other? As far as I knew, they hadn’t had a big falling out; they just seemed to have stopped calling each other. It was as if the distance between the suburbs created an invisible shield cutting them off from each other.
Was that happening with Kathleen and me? What if our friendship was only based on seeing each other at school and, now that we didn’t, it was over?
On Sunday I pretended I had heaps of homework and spent the day reading books, hoping each time the phone rang that it was Kathleen. But she didn’t call.
The next week at school I hung around with Brian and Jesse at lunchtime. On Thursday we were sitting on the benches in front of school when Dina and Gemma came over.
‘Hi.’ I eyed them curiously. We hadn’t been bosom buddies in the past week. In fact I was doing my best to avoid them.
Dina scrutinised Brian’s face and ignored me. ‘You’re wearing foundation,’ she burst out shrilly.
‘It’s Clearasil,’ Brian said without skipping a beat.
We examined his face. His cheeks and chin were covered in large purple pimples that were muted under a layer of orange cream.
‘Looks like foundation to me,’ Gemma said.
‘Why aren’t you on the oval?’ I stared them down. Since I’d been hanging around with Brian and Jesse, Dina had backed off from stalking Adnan.
Dina smiled. ‘Do you want to join us?’
‘Sure,’ Brian jumped in before I had a chance to say no.
As we walked to the oval Jesse and Brian fell in behind us, while Gemma and Dina took position on each side of me. ‘You shouldn’t be hanging around with Brian,’ Dina said.
‘You don’t want his reputation to rub off on you,’ Gemma piped up.
‘What reputation?’ They avoided my gaze. What did they know about Brian? Dina checked to see that Brian and Jesse were far enough behind not to hear her. I sidled closer to her, nervous about what she had to say.
boys will be boys, will be girls, will be boys
‘He’s a fag,’ Dina whispered.
‘Yeah,’ Gemma whispered. ‘You don’t want to be a fag hag.’ They giggled.
‘No, he’s not,’ I growled.
‘How do you know?’ Gemma demanded.
‘I know.’ I blushed remembering the way he walked close to me. His constant little touches when we were together. I didn’t think I was hot, but I knew when someone was flirting with me. Backstabbing cows. I stopped in my tracks. ‘If you care about your reputations it’s best if Jesse, Brian and I don’t go to the oval.’ I raised my voice so Brian and Jesse heard me.
Dina gabbed my arm and gave Brian and Jesse a fake smile. ‘I don’t care.’
‘Yeah, I don’t care,’ Gemma said, less certainly.
‘Good.’ I smiled at them. We reached Adnan’s group and I sat between Jesse and Brian, forcing Dina to sit next to Brian. Jesse opened The Shining and began reading.
‘That’s the best Stephen King novel, isn’t it?’ I smiled at Jesse but he just nodded back and kept reading.
Brian watched the soccer players intently and a wave of unease overcame me at the hungry look in his eyes. Maybe Dina was right? Had I misread his signals?
‘Why did you want to come to the oval?’ I asked him.
‘Change of scenery.’ Brian’s face became serious.
Dina caught my eye, ‘I told you so’ written on her face. I wanted to poke my tongue out at her; instead I flicked my hair over my shoulder.
I waved at Adnan. He came over during a break, loping across the grass, his naked torso glistening with sweat. I forced myself not to glance at Brian. I was scared of what I’d see.
‘Hey, cuz.’ Adnan reached out and slapped my hand in a high-five.
I introduced Jesse and Brian. Jesse nodded at Adnan and went back to reading. Brian offered his hand. ‘That was a nice header, mate.’
‘Thanks,’ Adnan threw himself onto the grass.
‘You been playing long?’ Brian asked.
‘Since I was this tall.’ Adnan put his hand below his upturned knee.
‘Do you follow European league?’ Brian asked.
‘Whatever I can see on SBS,’ Adnan shrugged. He untied the top from around his waist and used it to wipe the sweat off his face.
‘My Dad installed a satellite dish so we watch all the games.’
‘Sweet,’ Adnan put down his top.
‘Hi Adnan.’ Dina’s eyes were glued to his chest.
‘Hey,’ Adnan replied without looking at her. ‘You play?’ he asked Brian.
‘Yeah.’
‘Let’s see what you’ve got?’ Adnan stood.
Brian leaped up. He was dressed like he was going to a formal: pleated pants and a short-sleeved shirt. He took off his shirt and folded it, leaving on his T-shirt. ‘Get ready to be dazzled,’ he said. Adnan laughed and slapped him on the back.
‘Geez, he’ll ruin his make-up,’ Dina said. She and Gemma sniggered.
They began playing and Adnan’s mates blocked Brian, but he didn’t back off. I elbowed Jesse and nodded towards the oval. He glanced up before returning to his book.
Brian hounded the players until he isolated a chubby kid and stole the ball from him. The players pulled together into defensive positions and tried to block him. He feinted around them and kicked the ball to Adnan who scored a goal.
The guys took him seriously after that and the game returned to the normal easygoing camaraderie. When the lunch bell rang they shook hands with Brian and slapped him on the back. Dina and Gemma were gobsmacked.
Adnan and Brian ran over to us. ‘You really can play,’ said Adnan as he picked up his backpack.
‘Thanks.’ Brian put his shirt on.
‘Same time tomorrow?’ Adnan put his hand out for a high-five.
‘You’re on.’ Brian slapped his hand.
‘See ya cuz,’ Adnan called as he ran off.
I fell into step with Brian on the way to class. The teacher gave us a Maths problem to do in teams and Brian and I paired up. ‘I didn’t know you played soccer?’
He frowned as he worked the calculator. ‘I haven’t played since primary school.’
‘Why not?’
Brian shrugged.
I grabbed his arm and squeezed. ‘How come?’
‘Once guys decide you’re a fag they don’t want to touch you in case they catch it,’ he hissed. It was like he’d read my mind. ‘I’m sorry for taking it out on you,’ Brian said. ‘It just gets me worked up.’
I put my hand on his shoulder. ‘They’re stupid people spreading stupid rumours. rumours.’ I knew it. Of course he wasn’t gay. The teacher called out and we turned to the front. For the rest of the lesson we copied from the board.
The bell rang. ‘Meet you at the front,’ Brian said as he headed to the door.
I nodded and packed my backpack. The three of us were going to Sunshine library together after school. Sunshine library or Scumshine, as it was called by those who lived there and had reason to know, was three times bigger than the St Albans library. Thankfully it also had unlimited borrowing so I’d have books to read for a while, as long as I kept renewing them, so I didn’t cop a fine.
Jesse was by himself. ‘Where’s Brian?’ I peered around.
‘He’s coming. I can’t make it tonight,’ Jesse said.
‘Oh, that’s too bad.’ Happiness crept into my voice. I would be alone with Brian. Jesse looked cut. ‘I mean, we’ll miss you,’ I jumped in, now injecting sincerity into my voice.
‘Don’t worry, Sab
iha, I know what you mean.’ Jesse picked up his backpack and turned to leave.
We both saw Brian approaching.
‘You okay?’ Brian asked.
‘Mum’s not feeling well,’ Jesse said. He handed Brian a list with Stephen King and Dean R. Koontz titles scrawled on it. ‘Can you get me some books?’
‘What’s up with him?’ Brian asked after Jesse left.
I plastered a clueless look on my face. ‘What’s wrong with his mum?’ I asked, even though I didn’t really care. I was happy to have Brian all to myself. This was my chance to find out if he liked me.
Brian shrugged. ‘We’d better get going.’
We caught the train from St Albans to Sunshine. Usually I went to the library on my own. Kathleen wasn’t much of a reader, so I was rapt to find a companion.
On the train, Brian’s face became serious. ‘You know when Dina said I was wearing foundation?’
I waved my hand like I was pushing away a bad smell. ‘She’s a turd.’
‘I am wearing foundation.’
I examined Brian’s face. He’d applied the make-up expertly, blending it into his neck so there was no tell-tale jaw line. I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t jumping to conclusions again. ‘Do you wear foundation all the time?’ I asked softly, aware of the other passengers around us.
‘Only when I break out.’ Brian touched his left cheek where there were nasty pimples.
‘Foundation just makes it worse, you know.’ I knew from experience. ‘It doesn’t allow your skin to breathe and the pimples stay for longer. You should wear a tinted moisturiser.’
‘Really? Thanks,’ Brian said uncertainly.
‘You’re welcome.’ I felt like I’d dodged a bullet.
At the library we pointed out our favourite novels. I borrowed J.D. Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye on his recommendation. He agreed to read Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight, even though he needed convincing. Gothic vampire romances were a new thing for him.
While he discovered Bella and Edward, I checked my emails. Kathleen had sent me a PowerPoint presentation of cute furry critters and a line saying she was sorry for being crabby on Saturday. I took comfort in the fact that she hadn’t forgotten me.
As we walked back to the station I winced and shifted my backpack straps. I’d left my schoolbooks in my locker so I’d have room, but as usual I’d got over-excited and borrowed fifteen books. Now I had to suffer.
Brian took off his backpack. ‘Let’s swap.’
‘Are you serious?’ I couldn’t believe my luck. He’d only borrowed five books. ‘Thanks,’ I said, catching up to him.
Brian smiled. ‘My weight-lifting is paying off.’
I peered at his biceps then at his chest, and saw the firm outline of muscle. ‘You weight-lift?’
He nodded. ‘At least an hour after school. Do you think I’m a freak?’
‘Because you weight-lift?’ I squeaked.
‘Because I wear make-up.’ He slanted his eyes. ‘Sometimes I wear eye-liner and mascara too.’ He started gabbling. ‘There are heaps of guys who wear make-up, The Killers, Good Charlotte, The Chemical Brothers…’
I strained to remember other rock bands. ‘Yeah, it shows you’re interesting. It’s not gay, it’s fashionable!’
Brian smiled. ‘You’re a good friend.’
When the train drew up at St Albans station. Brian helped me put on my backpack, leaving his hands to rest on my shoulders. We were the same height. His eyelashes were thick and spiky, his eyes a soft, velvet brown.
‘I had a great time.’ He leaned in.
He was going to kiss me. My eyes closed as his face went out of focus. His lips brushed against my cheek. My eyes flew open and I blushed. I hoped he didn’t see me close my eyes. ‘I had a great time too.’ My voice was husky.
‘See you tomorrow,’ Brian said.
I took a few steps and glanced over my shoulder. He was watching me. I turned back and resisted looking behind me again. I’d never met a boy like him. He was sweet and gentle, but still did boy things like weights and soccer. The boys I knew before hadn’t prepared me for someone like Brian.
As I remembered the flutter in my stomach when he kissed my cheek, I broke into a shit-eating grin. It was wonderful, nothing like the jaw-wrenching, slobbery mashing of lips that Joshua, my only other boyfriend, had inflicted on me.
Two girls were standing on the corner of my street. ‘I think that’s her,’ one of them said.
When I met their gaze they looked blank. They followed me down my street. Hearing their footsteps in time with mine made my heart speed up. At my house, they kept walking without looking back. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was imagining it.
My stomach rumbled. I dropped my backpack in the hallway and went to the kitchen to make a sandwich. I reached into the breadbox. ‘There’s no bread!’ I yelled.
‘Here.’ Mum took out a ten-dollar note from her purse. ‘Go and buy it.’
‘Why didn’t you buy it?’ It drove me mad when there was no bread. It wasn’t like she didn’t know what time I was coming home from school, or that I’d be hungry. ‘What were you doing all day?’
‘I was busy,’ Mum said. ‘If you want it, you get it.’ She put the note on the table.
I grabbed the money and slammed the back door. ‘Busy, my arse,’ I muttered under my breath. ‘Busy sleeping in until noon.’ Mum claimed that her medication made her lethargic, that she needed to sleep like a hibernating bear. My version was that she was lazy.
‘Sabiha!’ Mum yelled. I stopped in my tracks and kicked the stairs. She heard me. ‘Buy milk too.’ Mum stepped out holding a five-dollar bill.
‘I don’t drink milk!’ I yelled. ‘If you want it, you get it.’
Walking back, I held the sliced Vienna loaf under my left arm. I split the top of the plastic bag and pinched off bits of bread and ate them. The girls from the corner of my street were following me again. I sped up and heard footsteps pounding behind me. Something smacked into me and I dropped the bread. Fists pummelled me and the half-chewed bite of bread fell out of my mouth. Arms pulled me up.
One of the girls held me while the other one slapped me in the face, once, twice, before she punched me in the stomach. I went down, my knee landing on the bread and grinding it into the concrete. They high-fived each other and ran away, their feet echoing down the street.
The bread I’d chewed was by my foot. My stomach heaved and I dry retched, moaning with the violent jerks. My ribs ached. I wiped the spittle off my mouth and picked up the squashed bread. I looked up as the girls ran into the next street.
‘Girl,’ Dido called when I walked through the front door. ‘Come here.’ I heard the clacking of wood on wood. He was playing chess with his buddy Edin. When he played chess he acted like I was his waitress.
I went into my bedroom and sat on the bed, cradling the bread in my arms. I heard my grandfather speaking and then footsteps. My bedroom door opened.
‘Sabiha, didn’t you hear your grandfather?’ Mum asked. Her face crumpled in concern. ‘What happened, baby girl?’
‘Some girls hit me,’ I gasped between sobs.
‘Who?’
‘I don’t know them. I think they live in Cottle Street.’ Mum hugged me and I cried, the plastic bag with the bread rustling as we squashed it between us.
There were tears in Mum’s eyes. ‘Where did they hit you?’
My ribs were throbbing. I lifted my T-shirt, but there wasn’t a mark on my skin.
Dido appeared in the doorway. ‘What happened?’
‘She was beaten up.’
‘Get her out there to smash their skulls,’ Dido urged.
I sobbed, hiding my face behind my hands. Waves of embarrassment washed over me every time I remembered the way the girls hit me like I was a scarecrow. I didn’t put up one decent punch.
‘Leave us, Babo.’ Mum closed the door in Dido’s face. When I finished crying she wiped my face with a tissue and gave me another one to blow my nose.
‘Let’s go.’
I followed her into the hallway. ‘Where?’
‘To the police.’ Mum put on her shoes.
‘No, no. We can’t.’ I knew what happened to dobbers. The girls would just bash me even more.
‘We’re not letting them get away with this.’
At the police station Mum spoke to the officer at the counter while I played with my sleeve. ‘Are you sure you want to press charges?’ the policewoman asked. ‘If the girls live near you it means your daughter will be an easy target for retaliation.’
‘But they beat her up,’ Mum exclaimed. ‘Practically in front of our house in broad daylight.’
‘I understand that.’ The woman shuffled paperwork. ‘Sometimes reporting it makes these things worse.’
‘Come on, Mum.’ I pulled her arm. ‘Let’s go.’
‘But, but, this can’t happen,’ Mum insisted, putting her hands on the counter. ‘You’re supposed to help.’
‘You can fill in the incident report form.’ The policewoman picked up her pen and waited.
Mum let me pull her away from the counter and back into the car park.
‘Why should the police waste their time?’ Dido said when Mum told him. ‘The girl needs to defend herself.’ He stared at the chessboard as he plotted his next move. Edin watched Dido, his chubby face creased in a smile.
‘It’s okay if your grand-daughter gets beaten in front of her own house?’ Mum demanded. ‘Next time they can come into the house and beat her up.’
Dido held a pawn, his hand hovering above the board as he decided where to place it. Edin tensed in anticipation, waiting for Dido’s move.
Mum threw up her hands. ‘Why stop there?’ she yelled. ‘Maybe we can help them rob us by throwing our things onto the street?’
‘Do you know them?’ Dido asked, finally looking up, a cigarette clenched between his teeth.
‘No.’
‘They live in Cottle Street.’ Mum pointed in the direction of the milkbar. I cursed my big mouth. ‘Bobbie from next door will know them.’ Mum headed for the front door. Bobbie was a little old Greek lady who had lived in the same house since she came to Australia fifty years ago. She knew everyone.