‘As I was walking out the front door, he clapped me on the shoulder and said I’d be sweet because I was his grandson and we Elliot men could handle anything.’
‘I don’t understand.’
He chuckles. ‘You’re a girl, you wouldn’t.’
‘The man thing?’
He nods. ‘I headed straight back home and manned up to what was happening. It was typical of Gramps. He never lectured or anything but he had this complete faith in me.’ His hand drops to the buckle and he gets that lost look in his eyes again.
‘He must have been an amazing man. Where did he get the belt?’
‘I think he won it in a bet or something. He said it would bring me luck.’
I love that a boy who’s happy to be called a computer nerd wears his grandfather’s belt for luck. Just another piece in the Sebastian puzzle. ‘What was the bet over?’
‘A woman.’
‘A charmer was he?’
‘He had a way of putting things that made it impossible to argue.’
‘So that’s where you get it from?’
He shakes his head. ‘Not me. Lana maybe.’
Without meaning to I edge away and he makes a show of slapping himself in the head. ‘My sister, the romance killer. Look, I’ll talk to her. Tell her to leave you alone.’
His hand moves to brush my jaw.
My skin tightens. I stop breathing. He said romance. I’m sure of it. I haven’t even thought about what it would be like to kiss Sebastian. The very prospect is so huge and powerful that like the sun I don’t dare look at it too long in case it burns me through to my soul.
He doesn’t kiss me though. He turns away and gazes out over the lawn. ‘You going to the party on Saturday?’
‘I don’t know.’ Since Lana made Joel uninvite me I hadn’t thought too much about it.
‘Pity.’
I glance at him but he’s not looking my way. What does ‘pity’ mean? Was he planning to ask me? Is he going?
‘I … I might. It’s not like I’m doing anything else.’ The words tumble out of my mouth and I can’t seem to stop them. ‘Mum is fine with it. She’d let me have a later curfew, I think. If I was going.’
Stop rambling, he gets the idea.
He looks my way then but looks away just as fast. His free hand wipes down the side of his jeans and the skin over his cheekbones is stained with colour. Cool, aloof Sebastian is nervous.
It makes me brave. ‘I’d like to go.’
He takes a breath that expands his chest and makes him even taller than normal. He meets my gaze with a hopeful smile. ‘Would you like to go with me?’
‘Yes.’
That’s one decision I don’t have a problem making.
CHAPTER
10
Mum is waiting for me when I get home from school. From the look of things she’s been pacing the kitchen but there’s no cup of coffee in sight. Downstairs in the salon there is one lady under the dryer and another at the sink. It must be serious.
‘When were you going to tell me?’ she asks.
‘What?’ I have to hedge my bets because it could be any number of things that have put the slightly hurt, slightly annoyed expression on her face.
Her brows squeeze together. ‘That you opened the envelope.’
‘Oh … that.’ I make to step past her and head to my room but she edges in front of me.
‘Is that all you have to say about it?’
I cross my arms and shrug. The guilt that I opened it at all has me unable to meet her eyes. ‘I could ask what you were doing snooping in my room.’
‘If you’d taken out the rubbish as I asked I wouldn’t have been in there.’
Some of my bravado vanishes. Now I remember her calling out something along those lines as I jogged down the steps this morning, but at the time I was in too much of a hurry to get to school and see if I could accidentally bump into Sebastian. Still, I’m not quite ready to let my annoyance go. ‘Being in there gives you a right to go through my stuff?’
Her eyes narrow. ‘Don’t start me on rights, Kathleen McKenny. I didn’t go through anything. As a matter of fact I happened to see the envelope in the rubbish bin. It was right on top.’
‘Was it?’ She’s probably right. Typical me. I worried about putting the actual letter out of sight but just dumped the envelope. I’d make a terrible spy. ‘Maybe I did open it.’
She nods. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
As if I have a choice. ‘You’re mad that I didn’t tell you I opened it but you’re giving me the option of not telling you what it said?’
A pulse tics in her jaw but she doesn’t snap. ‘I’m not mad. I’m … disappointed. It’s your communication with your father and it’s up to you whether you share it with me.’
I wasn’t born yesterday. She’s desperate to know what it said. If I refuse to share it now she’ll get it out of me eventually anyway, but I do appreciate the sentiment.
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ Her head bows at my words, as though I’ve struck a blow she didn’t expect. A shaft of guilt pierces through me. I reach out to grasp her arm. ‘I don’t want to talk about it … but I’ll tell you what it said.’
Her head comes up but she doesn’t press. Completely unlike my nosy mother.
Nor has she looked down toward the salon once.
I’ve never wanted to be the kind of kid who plays their parents off against each other, but I draw out the moment. I have her full attention and she’s scared. I seem to spend my whole existence petrified, and the power to make someone else feel like that is seductive.
For that second I can see in her face how much I matter.
It feels just a little bit good.
And a whole lot mean.
‘He wants to meet.’
She reels a fraction. ‘And?’
‘I don’t know.’
Her hand comes out, gentle but clutching too. The words come out too quickly. ‘It’s up to you and I’ll support you whatever decision you come to.’
It’s what she says. But I hear different. I hear, ‘Please don’t leave me. Please don’t abandon everything we’ve built together.’ I let myself enjoy the idea of her wanting to keep me to herself. My hand finds hers and I give it a reassuring squeeze.
But then I think of her dating, and the fact that I’m leaving for uni next year and I know it’s only my imagination. Mum is a good person. She’s never bad-mouthed my father to me and when our life blew up in the papers she did her best to shield me from what he’d done.
She means what she says.
Her eyes dart to the salon and our little chat is over. Her smile is back to its usual caring-but-hurried. ‘Let me know what you decide.’
I nod but she’s already stepping back through the doors and asking something polite about a bowls game.
Whatever I decide? As I said to Sebastian, decisions are not exactly my best thing. I hate making mistakes, so every time, I carefully analyse the pros and cons and try to consider every angle. I usually end up in a tangle. As I trudge up the stairs, the high of lunch with Sebastian is only a distant memory. I never thought a decision about my father would be one of the hard ones to make.
* * *
On Monday night I’m online with Chay. I hurried through loading the dishwasher and managed to log in as Aaron first. She’s late because she was busy being reamed out by her dad for walking in the door two minutes after she was supposed to be home. Once she’d have rung me crying, but now she only mentions it in passing.
Can you get used to your father hating everything about you?
I wouldn’t know. But it’s a reminder that while I’m theoretically missing some good stuff by not knowing my father, I’m also avoiding a whole lot of possible crap. Another factor to add to my mental will-I-or-won’t-I-meet-him debate.
I try to do my history homework and swap between checking for Lana to start a conversation and keeping Chay informed. As I’m confirming for the baji
llionth time that nothing is happening I catch myself reflected in the mirror behind my door.
I’m cross-legged in an old pair of track pants. It’s after dinner and there’s a smear of tomato sauce on my cheek but my attention is drawn to Sebastian’s hoodie. I don’t even remember putting it on. My reflection offers a sheepish smile, but instead of taking it off and putting it by the door to return I hug it tighter.
Is that pine I can smell on it?
My smile in the mirror turns goofy and I refocus on my laptop. But the gooey warmth inside me doesn’t go away.
I’m staring blankly at the screen and thinking about the way his arm rested in a solid weight across my shoulders and the zing of my skin where we touched when the flash of a message startles me. It’s Chay.
Anything yet???
Still nothing.
I’m nearly finished my homework and I can hear the tap-tap of Mum on her computer in the kitchen when Lana finally comes online.
I don’t want Aaron to appear too eager. So despite the fact that I have been waiting to talk to her, I say nothing. Even when she sends Aaron a private message complaining that her brother is driving her crazy I manage to keep my silence.
Anything I write in response to that could give away my identity. My fingers hover over the keys but I somehow resist. I’m desperate to know if it’s something to do with me.
A minute later Chay sends me a link. It’s to a track by a band I’ve never heard of and it’s called ‘Online Girl’. She wants me to post it on Aaron’s page.
I can picture her Cheshire grin as she types.
Wanna bet Lana thinks it’s about her??
Not even Lana could be self-absorbed enough to think a guy she’d chatted to online a few times has written a song about her. Could she?
I saw her talking to Sebastian after we parted at lunch today and her pretty face was all twisted into a scowl. Maybe it wasn’t about me, but what she said to him at Sweety’s makes me wonder. And a thought snakes into my brain … Was it coincidence she set her sights on my date for the end-of-term party?
Before I can begin the decision process I post the link.
Chay messages a second later:
Watch and learn
History forgotten, I wait to see what Lana will do. In the meantime I give in to curiosity and listen to the track. It is terrible.
I message Chay.
If she thinks it’s about her, she’ll be insulted.
It’s not THAT bad.
Much.
Aaron’s page flashes as someone likes his link. I’m shaking my head as I read the name but it’s not Lana.
He’s friends with Joel?
I message Chay but she doesn’t reply.
This is a bit too twisted. I knew Aaron’s list of friends was growing like a virus but I didn’t think Joel would be one of them. I read back through the recent additions and my belly churns even harder. Joel made the friend request to the fake guy set up to seduce his new girlfriend.
I lean back on my pile of pillows.
Every single person in our year twelve class is now friends with Aaron. Except Sebastian, and only because he doesn’t have an account. Would he be drawn into the lie we’ve created too? Or would he be smarter than every single other person I know?
When I check the screen again the track has another twenty likes. I don’t need to ask Chay to know she’ll be ecstatic with the response. Still none of those likes are from Lana.
When her response finally comes, the private message is worse than I feared.
Aww … You make a girl feel special.
I hesitate to pass on the news to Chay. I hate the fact that she was right, and that the girl who stole my date is so easily charmed. But I send a short confirmation and log off everything.
Chay will soon see I’m gone. Before my computer is finished shutting down she’ll be online as Aaron causing havoc. But I don’t care.
Lana is welcome to Aaron.
Maybe she and Joel can fight over who likes him more.
* * *
On Tuesday Chay plans to leave me so I can meet Sebastian under what used to be our tree.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’ I ask.
Chay laughs. ‘I’ll hang out at the soccer pitch with the others.’
I look at her properly. ‘You’re with that crowd now?’
We’ve only been apart one lunchtime and she’s not meeting my gaze. ‘There are no phones inside, remember. And I couldn’t sit on my own like a no-friends.’ She shrugs. ‘What else could I do?’
‘Of course. Sorry.’
Her smile is instant. She’s always been quick to forgive. ‘Have fun.’
Anticipation simmers inside me. ‘Hope so.’
Crossing the grass, I try not to break into a run. I haven’t seen Sebastian yet, but I don’t want to look overeager. I move slowly and sit as normal, leaning back against the trunk.
I pull out my phone but don’t really see the screen. I’m trying not to look like I’m waiting. Although I might as well have a neon sign above my head because I can’t help scanning for him.
Five minutes later I’m still looking.
The wind has picked up and I hug my arms around my legs, feeling the chill seep right through my skin. I shiver and imagine him appearing now with some witty line about keeping me warm.
He doesn’t.
At ten minutes I debate texting Chay to see if she’s seen him. But I’ve never been one to share rejection.
By fifteen minutes I’ve stopped waiting for him to appear. The anticipation has become a thick sludge in my veins making me feel heavy and slow. I’m not expecting every tall shape to be his familiar loping frame. I check again to see if he’s messaged. But my phone is silent and still.
I didn’t imagine him seeking me out yesterday. He told me he’d looked for me. He put his arm around my shoulders. Sure it was casual, but it was special, too.
From my perspective.
But then I can count the boys I’ve kissed on one hand. Or more accurately, two fingers.
My head drops to my knees and I start plucking blades of grass from between my feet. My eyes sting. It’s not as though he promised to meet me or anything.
The grass blades have blurred into a green blob when I notice the black wedge heels stopped next to my knee. Hot pink, perfectly shaped toenails peek out the front. An overpowering sweet scent wraps around me like a noose. It’s Lana.
Maybe if I don’t look up she’ll go away.
‘All alone, huh?’
I don’t move. Confrontation isn’t my thing. The last time she sucked me in I became the laughing stock of the school. I’m in no hurry to make the same mistake again. Besides, I know too much about her now. What if I say something that reveals Aaron is nothing more than me and Chay and a few hunky photos?
She’s not done. ‘Must be embarrassing to be stood up. Again.’
I shrug.
It’s the slightest movement but I know she won’t miss it. ‘Poor dumped Kathleen.’
This time I manage not to react at all.
‘Nothing clever to say?’
My head comes up. I don’t want her to think she scares me. I meet her gaze and wonder how she can be related to someone I like so much. But the vulnerability I sense when I speak to her online is nowhere to be seen. ‘Have we ever even spoken before?’
A faint line cracks the smoothness of her forehead and her lips part.
But I get in before her. ‘If you don’t count random abuse you’ve spat my way.’ I stand because she’s looking down on me enough as it is. ‘What did I ever do to you?’
‘Whatever.’ Her hand bats away my question. ‘Sebastian’s not coming. Run away and have a cry, why don’t you?’
I stare at her with my head held high although I’m crumpling inside.
He hasn’t stood me up. I cling onto the fact that we never actually arranged to meet. Even though I wish this wasn’t happening, the logical part of me thinks Lana’s enjoying
this way more than it’s worth. Like she’s grasping.
‘You know we didn’t actually arrange to meet?’
Her superior smile slips. ‘You can’t deny you were waiting for him.’
I shrug again.
She shakes her head. ‘You don’t even know him.’
I offer the sweetest of smiles. ‘But you’re afraid I will soon.’
‘I’m not afraid of anything.’
She spins on her wedges and stalks in the direction of the stands and her crowd of admirers.
I should be shattered, but the fact that she sought me out has done the opposite to what she intended. She was too desperate to make me suffer.
I’ll wait until I speak to Sebastian before I wallow.
Or at least I’ll try.
* * *
Chay and I step out of the way of the oncoming pack of boys in identical Titans training gear. The school soccer uniform is impressive with its orange lightning bolt across the black background. I exhale in relief at not seeing Joel among them. And then my breath catches at the tallest, lankiest boy trailing behind.
Sebastian. Wearing goalkeeper’s gloves.
‘Since when is he on the team?’ The question leaves my mouth softly but my gaze meets his as I speak.
His arched brow says he’s heard me. ‘I didn’t know you were interested.’
‘I’m not.’ Not after he didn’t turn up at lunch without explanation. But he’s already past me and moving down the hall toward the exit and the soccer pitch.
Chay doesn’t miss the exchange. ‘Apparently Lana told Joel that Sebastian used to play at their old school. He went out to training the other night and blew everyone away.’
That’s no surprise. Sebastian blows me away every time I’m with him.
She pokes me in the ribs. ‘You two are so cute with the meaningful looks and all.’
Joel rounds the corner at a jog, obviously running late for practice. I look away. Seeing him doesn’t make my heart race or breath catch. Or anything really.
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