Little Sister

by Aimee Said

  I wondered how Maz had reacted to the kiss, but she and Nicko had abandoned the couch, presumably for somewhere more private. Simon was standing next to the stereo with his back to the room, doing a bad job of pretending to be engrossed in Prad’s music collection. In that instant, I wanted to be very far away.

  I mumbled to Josh that I was going to the loo, but when I got upstairs I bypassed the guest bathroom and headed for the lounge. Prad had told us it was off limits, but I figured that was the rule for a whole crowd of rowdy teenagers, not for one tired and confused girl. The talent of the Chandaramas’ decorator was evident: the living room was an oasis of calm colours and soft, pillow-like sofas. I sank into one of them and closed my eyes to do some thinking.

  I’d enjoyed kissing Tracy more than I thought I would. A lot more. But as Tracy herself pointed out, kissing’s fun. And if I’d enjoyed it more with her than I had with the guys I’d kissed (a total of three, for the record – including Josh, not including Pete Kelly’s nose) it didn’t mean I was gay. It was just that Tracy was a better kisser than them. Right?

  “You okay?” Josh’s voice sounded more annoyed than worried.

  “Yeah,” I lied. “I think I had too much punch.”

  “I told Lutz you were fine,” he said, sitting and pulling me into his arms. “That guy is such a killjoy.”

  I snuggled against him, enjoying the warmth of his chest against my cheek. We stayed that way for a few minutes.

  “Did watching me and Tracy really turn you on?” I asked.

  “Sure – like I said, girls kissing each other is hot. But you kissing me is hotter.”

  He lifted my face up to his and kissed me hard. Then his tongue darted in and out. When I caught myself comparing his kiss to Tracy’s, I did my best to ignore it by concentrating on how much I liked Josh. And when his hands reached under my T-shirt and then pulled me on top of him, I went with it.

  “Al?”

  Josh didn’t stop when Simon spoke, but I did. I sat up and straightened my clothes.

  “I think it’s time to go home,” said Simon.

  Josh was furious. “Who do you think you are, her minder? Al’s already got an interfering, know-it-all big sister, she doesn’t need you busting her fun too.”

  Simon kept his eyes locked on me. “Come on, Al. It’s past your curfew already.”

  “It’s past your curfew already,” mimicked Josh in a high, whiny voice. “Get a life, Clutz. Come on, Al, let’s go somewhere more private.”

  It only took me a second to realise that I didn’t want to be somewhere more private with Josh right then. Not when we were both drunk, and not while I was feeling so mixed up.

  “He’s right,” I said. “I’d better go or I’ll be grounded till the holidays.”

  Josh’s expression lay somewhere between disappointment and fury. “Are you sure? I could drop you home in an hour or so. I’ll come in with you and tell your old man we had to wait ages for a bus.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t think my dad’d buy that. I’d better go with Simon.”

  Josh looked daggers at Simon as he drew me towards him for a long, snaky-tongued goodbye kiss.

  Simon was broodingly silent in the taxi, as if there were so many things that he wanted to tell me off about that he didn’t know where to start. I pretended not to notice. I had enough on my mind already without worrying about what he thought of me.

  Al Miller is dazed and confused.

  33

  “Remember: straight home after work,” said Mum when she dropped me off the next morning, the first words she’d spoken since we’d left the house. She was obviously still narky with me, even though I’d already sat through the obligatory we’re-so-disappointed-in-you lecture the night before.

  I closed my door and bent down to the window to say goodbye, but she pulled away from the kerb before I could speak. Welcome to purgatory.

  “Looks like someone had a big night,” said Dylan, handing me a large glass of water. “I recommend a couple of these and a bacon and egg roll in about half an hour.”

  My stomach lurched at the thought of food. I drank the water down in one and refilled the glass. “Why do people do this to themselves?” I groaned.

  “Sadly, most of us have had to learn the hard way,” he said with a sympathetic smile.

  Dylan wasn’t treating me any differently, but even in my hung-over, sleep-deprived fug, I knew I had to clear the air with him. “About the other night, after the tasting … I – I wanted to say I’m sorry if … I didn’t mean …”

  Thankfully, Dylan put my out of my tongue-tied misery. “Apology accepted. But I think you need to ask yourself why you’re having so much trouble accepting Larrie for who she is.”

  I started to point out that it was Larrie who had kept who she really was a secret in the first place, but when Dylan heard Jay coming downstairs he busied himself in the coolroom. The combined aroma of a hundred cheeses hit my nostrils like an uppercut punch as Dylan opened the heavy refrigerator door. My stomach gurgled threateningly.

  “You, my dear, are as green as stilton,” said Jay when he saw me. “You can’t serve customers in that state. Why don’t you spring-clean out the back this morning?”

  I nodded and refilled my glass, ashamed of the state I was in but grateful for their understanding.

  My phone rang midway through my fifth glass of water. Maz’s name appeared on the screen.

  “Did you have a good time last night?” she asked cheerfully.

  She mustn’t have spoken to Simon yet or she’d have launched straight into a lecture.

  “It was … okay.” I hadn’t decided how much I was willing to tell Maz if she hadn’t already heard it from someone else. “Where did you and Nicko disappear to?”

  “We went outside to talk in peace. You lot were being so loud with that stupid game that we had to shout to hear each other.”

  “Uh-huh. Nice excuse.”

  Maz giggled in a completely un-Maz way. “Why don’t you come over after work and I’ll fill you in?”

  “Can’t. I’m grounded for missing curfew and not answering my phone when Dad called to check up on me.”

  “I take it things went well with Josh then?”

  “I can’t talk about it at work,” I whispered, hoping she’d think Dylan or Jay was with me. “I’ll call you later.”

  I felt a pang of guilt about not coming clean with Maz about what happened during truth or dare, and about Simon springing me and Josh on the couch, but I thought I’d better get it straight in my own head before she started weighing in.

  The fact was, I wasn’t sure where I stood with Josh any more. I’d sent him a text message before I went to sleep saying sorry for having to leave the party, but he hadn’t replied. I told myself it was possible he hadn’t read it yet, but I had a sinking feeling that I was being ignored.

  My mind raced with thoughts about Josh and about kissing Tracy and, weirdly, about whether Simon thought even less of me after last night. I threw myself into cleaning to try to distract my brain for long enough for things to start to make sense.

  The coolroom where the cheeses were kept was always immaculate, but the shelves out the back were randomly piled with anything that didn’t have to meet food safety regulations, so I started there. Today, the thought of pulling out all of the delivery receipts and catalogues from suppliers and rubber bands and lidless pens and putting them all back in their proper places seemed soothing. Like a metaphor for what I hoped was going on in my subconscious. I imagined stepping back to admire the perfectly organised shelves and having an epiphany about how to handle last night.

  I took everything out and sorted it into three piles: 1) Keep, 2) Ditch, and 3) What the hell is this doing in here? (The last was a larger pile than you’d imagine; it included a disco whistle, a cricket ball and a lone sock.) I’d got as far as wiping the empty shelves when Maz rang again. By now she’d have spoken to Simon and he would’ve told her about the dare with Tracy and how he had t
o rescue me from Josh’s evil clutches. My brain was still sorting my thoughts into piles of its own: 1) It’ll be fine, 2) Pretend it never happened, and 3) You can’t show your face in school on Monday. I wasn’t ready to talk about it yet, so I let the call go to voicemail and busied myself stacking the spare takeaway containers in size order.

  A few minutes later my phone buzzed with a text message. It was Maz, no doubt annoyed that I hadn’t taken her call.

  I don’t know what happened last night but it’s all over Facebook …

  I made it to the toilet just in time to bring up all the water I’d drunk. When my stomach stopped heaving, I sat on the floor, taking deep breaths to try to stop the adrenalin pumping through my body so that I could think clearly about what to do.

  “Everything all right, Al?” asked Dylan. “You’ve been in there for almost half an hour.”

  I flushed the toilet and opened the door. “Actually, I’m not feeling very well. I think I’d better go home.”

  Dylan nodded. “Go on, I’ll finish off the shelves and make your excuses to Jay.”

  I thanked him and grabbed my bag, carefully scouting out who was on Kingston Street before ducking down the laneway. I took the back streets all the way home. It took twice as long, but it was worth it not to run into anyone I knew.

  I ran straight to my room and turned on my laptop. When the site finally loaded, I typed my email address and password with shaking hands. My heart was pounding as if I’d run a half-marathon. An error message appeared saying my login details were rejected. For a panicked moment I thought my account had been hacked, but my second login attempt was successful.

  When my home page loaded, I immediately saw what Maz had been talking about. There was a post on my wall from Josh, followed by a string of comments.

  Josh Turner is 100% certain Al Miller is straight.

  Prad Chandarama wonders where Josh was when Al and Tracy were at it.

  Tracy Green thinks Prad’s jealous.

  Josh Turner still thinks chicks kissing each other is hot – but only if they kiss me afterwards. Right, Al? ;)

  Prad Chandarama reckons it sounds like Josh and Al were doing more than kissing.

  Josh Turner A gentleman never tells.

  Simon Lutz has been reading about the effects of binge drinking on the teenage brain.

  What was Josh thinking? I closed my bedroom door before calling him.

  “Hey, you,” he said, as if everything between us was completely normal. “What’s up?”

  “I’ve just seen Facebook,” I snapped back.

  Josh laughed. “Oh, yeah, it was a great night, wasn’t it? After you left–”

  “How could you, Josh?”

  “How could I what?”

  “How could you post that stuff about you and me … and me and Tracy?” My voice rose with anger.

  “Chillax, Al. You were worried about everyone thinking you were lesbo, weren’t you? So I’m making sure they know you’re not.”

  He sounded very pleased with himself, which made me even angrier.

  “By insinuating that we had sex?”

  “I didn’t say that. I said a gentleman never tells.”

  “Which sounds like we had sex! You’ve got to do something about it.”

  “Like what? Post up an update saying you got frigid when Clutz appeared and then ran off with him? That’d do wonders for your reputation. You should be thanking me, Al. There are a lot of rumours going around Whitlam about the Miller sisters. I thought you’d want to make sure they’re aimed at the right one.”

  I hung up before he could say anything more.

  I was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to remember what I’d ever seen in Josh Turner when my phone rang.

  “I went to Say Cheese, but Dylan said you’d gone home. I take it you managed to log on.”

  “Maz, let me explain. It wasn’t nearly as bad as Josh made it sound.”

  “I know. Simon’s already filled me in. Now do you believe that Turner isn’t the man of your dreams?”

  I sighed. “Okay, you were right. As usual.”

  “Thank you. In that case, where shall we meet to plan your revenge?”

  “I’m grounded, remember? And it’ll be till the end of school if any of this gets back to my parents.”

  “Maybe they’ll let me come over to your place,” she suggested. “I could bring the ice-cream cure.”

  “No chance. Not only am I forbidden to do anything even vaguely social, but Mum’s called a family dinner tonight.”

  “Poor you. I’ll see you on Monday then?”

  “If I last that long.”

  Mum came to my room with a tray of toast and tea.

  “I thought some bland food might help settle your stomach,” she said. “I know some people swear by greasy takeaway, but this is the best hangover cure I’ve found.”

  “I don’t have a …” I started, but Mum’s expression told me there was no point lying.

  “Dad and I are really disappointed in you. I don’t know why you have to push our limits all the time. Larissa never–” she cut herself off. “I hope feeling this rotten has been a lesson to you.”

  The tea and toast did make my stomach feel a little better. Unfortunately, it couldn’t solve any of my other problems.

  Al Miller isn’t sure there’s a light at the end of this tunnel.

  34

  Mum told me to set Nan’s best china for dinner, and two sizes of knives and forks and linen napkins. When I finished she inspected the table, tsk-ing as she straightened the napkins and made sure the cutlery was parallel. It seemed like a ridiculous amount of fuss for a family dinner, but then she’d always said that keeping busy helped take her mind off things.

  Beth’s car pulled up at 6.30. It was the first time I’d seen her since the SkoolDaze tryouts. I flattened myself against the living room wall, where I hoped I couldn’t be seen from outside, and peeked out through the sliver of glass between the curtain and the window.

  In the car, Larrie was talktalktalking at Beth. Her face was tired and upset, and she was waving her arms around like she was worried her words weren’t enough to get the message through. Beth caught Larrie’s hands between hers, mid-flight, and made Larrie look at her. At that moment I wished I could lip-read, because whatever she said instantly changed Larrie’s mood. Her mouth spread into a grin, and she tilted her head back and laughed. For a second, she had the exact expression she used to get when we’d got on the roundabout and Dad’d push us round and round till we didn’t know which way was up.

  Larrie leaned over and kissed Beth goodbye. A quick peck that, if I hadn’t known otherwise, I would have registered as an affectionate gesture between best friends. I kept watching as Larrie walked up the driveway, still smiling to herself. Beth didn’t start her car until she’d given her a final wave goodbye from the front porch.

  On the dot of 7.00, Dad called us to the table. The warm glow of candlelight reflected off the walls.

  “Isn’t this nice,” he said, beaming when Mum set down the last soup bowl and took her seat. “The whole family having dinner.”

  “We all ate together a few days ago,” I reminded him.

  “Don’t be impertinent, Allison, you know what your father means.”

  “Thanks for making a delicious dinner, Mum,” said Larrie. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

  “Always good to have a reward at the end of a hard day’s work,” said Dad. “What were you and Beth up to today?”

  “Chemistry, mainly.” Larrie waited for Mum’s coughing fit to pass before continuing. “I can’t believe the first week of exams is over. This time next week I’ll be free.”

  “What are you planning to do to celebrate?” asked Mum. “Do you want to have a party for all your friends?”

  Larrie examined her soup as if it held the answer to the meaning of life. “I don’t think so.”

  “How about schoolies? I know you said you didn’t want to
go, but Penny in the Kingston Flight Centre reckons there are some good last-minute deals if you’ve changed your mind.”

  Mum looked so hopeful that Larrie might take her up on the offer that I had to feel a little bit sorry for her, even while I added it to the list of things I resented Larrie for.

  Larrie swirled her soup with her spoon. She still hadn’t eaten a mouthful. “Beth and I are thinking of going hiking on the peninsula for a few days,” she said. “To get some fresh air.”

  Mum cast Dad a sideways glance. He tried to return a reassuring smile, but it came out as a tortured grimace. It was like watching a train crash in slow motion.

  I couldn’t stand it any more.

  “They know,” I said to Larrie.

  “Know what?” Larrie sounded genuinely confused, but I wasn’t buying it.

  “About you and Beth,” I said. “You can all stop pretending now.”

  The three of them looked at each other and then back at me. I couldn’t tell who was most outraged.

  “Allison, what do you think you’re doing?” demanded Mum.

  “You had no right–” started Larrie.

  But I couldn’t contain my anger any longer. “I’m sick of it, sick of all of you,” I shouted, banging my soup spoon on the table. “Larrie thinks she’s the only person who matters around here, and no wonder, because you two keep telling her that she is. I live here too, and I’m over it. It’s hard enough dealing with Larrie’s mess all day at school without coming home and having to pretend we’re the perfect Kingston family.”

  Dad took a deep breath. “I think we’d all have preferred it if you’d found a more tactful way to frame the topic, but thank you, Al. It’s not been good for any of us to act as if this isn’t happening. Larrie, Mum and I want to give you whatever support you need.”

  Larrie’s phone buzzed. “This had better be Beth,” she sighed. She read the message and tossed the phone onto the table. It landed in front of me. “Why won’t she leave us alone?”