‘I’m not . . .’ I frowned. ‘Why? What? Why should I listen to you?’
I couldn’t read her expression. ‘He’s been put through the ringer lately. That’s all.’ She bit her lip. ‘A crazy girl back home’s been giving him a really hard time. And Ruby and Nina told me all about your mum and brother and stuff. And that’s really sad and everything, but Ben’s . . . Look, you seem nice, but he can’t deal with all that now.’
‘There’s nothing going on. And anyway, that’s up to Ben.’
Her jaw tightened. ‘Just leave him alone. Alright?’
I didn’t say anything. I just slammed my locker shut and caught up to Gordon, who was waiting for me outside the art room. ‘You right?’ he asked.
‘Peachy,’ I muttered.
***
After school, Loretta and I walked partway to town together, sharing a packet of Ovalteenies that Loretta got super cheap from the cafeteria because she was nice to the lady who ran it.
‘There’s some sort of mystery,’ Loretta said. ‘There’s some big secret. I can tell.’
‘You cannot.’
‘What site do you reckon it was?’ she asked, for the fiftieth time.
‘I don’t know, Rets. I didn’t see it either.’
‘Do you reckon he’s got a crazy ex-girlfriend in the city? Bloody hell – maybe that’s why they had to move here! Maybe she went off the deep end and they’ve had to go into hiding. And Amber’s worried he’s going to get caught up with another crazy girl.’
‘I resent that.’
‘It fits though, right?’
‘Who knows. It’s all so weird.’ I frowned. ‘She reminds me of my mum.’
Loretta choked on an Ovalteenie. ‘What?’
‘Amber!’ I said, giving her back a thump. ‘Amber reminds me of my mum.’
‘No way! Does she? She doesn’t!’
‘She does. It’s like in tiny little ways. It’s hard to explain.’
‘Try me.’
‘She flicks the hair tie on her wrist.’
Loretta stopped walking and stared at me and I stared back at her. ‘Your mum never even used hair ties! Her hair was too short.’
‘I know.’ Mum cut all her hair off just after I started at kindergarten. She got sick of how wild it was; how it never stayed where it was meant to and never did what she wanted.
‘So how does that remind you of your mum, then?’
‘I don’t know! I know it sounds nuts. Can we change the subject?’
Loretta frowned and stuffed four Ovalteenies into her mouth as we dodged around a huge puddle in the middle of the footpath. ‘Alright. At least we got each other for that history project.’
‘Far out, Rets! Chew your food!’
Loretta was quiet for a moment while she swallowed her mouthful. ‘I’d better dash and get this done. See you in an hour or so?’
‘Yeah.’
She gave me a sticky kiss on the cheek and darted off to drop something off to her dad’s work, while I walked the rest of the way home by myself.
I sat out on the beach with two jumpers done up to my chin and the university course guide Biddy had given me last year. Tyrone, whom she’d given it to the year before, hadn’t opened it because he’d only ever wanted to be a mechanic. Loretta didn’t need to look at it because she’d known that she wanted to do law since she discovered Judge Judy as a seven-year-old. I couldn’t look at it because the choices were too overwhelming. I wished Mum were here. I had a feeling she’d be more help than Dad, who always said I should just do what I wanted. How did that help, when the problem was that I had no idea what I wanted? Mum would’ve known what I wanted to do. And she’d have pushed me along until I worked it out.
Loretta tried to be helpful, but she mostly just got frustrated with me. She was so clear about her goals that she couldn’t really understand me being so confused.
Biddy just fretted over it, working herself up into a frenzy of over-earnest advice. ‘You need stability, that’s what you need. Something that’s going to give you a stable job, a stable income. Forget doing something for passion, a job’s something you learn to love.’
Tyrone and I both thought that was bull. Not that we ever said so to each other.
I flipped through graphic art, graphic design, interior design, product design and fine art. I swallowed. I wasn’t artistic, but my mum had always thought I was. Would me studying some sort of art course have made Mum happy? And so what, if I wasn’t good, now? Studying was about learning, wasn’t it?
Out past the break, Tyrone was bobbing around on his surfboard, looking completely peaceful. I shivered just looking at him. Our part of Tassie was freezing over winter. No one, not even the crazy old guys who looked as creased as old leather from forty years of surfing seemed to enjoy it at this time of year.
Except Tyrone.
Not that he ever really caught a wave. Not properly. He just bobbed out there on his board and in his wetsuit, bodyboarding back into the shore when he’d had enough. Biddy hated him out on the water here. The rips and tides were dangerous.
‘Hey!’ Loretta called, jogging down the beach from the direction of the main street.
I smiled and waved the course guide at her. ‘How was your dad?’
‘Annoyed about being interrupted, but Mum told me to drop the keys off!’ She pulled a face at the course guide. ‘What are you looking up?’ she asked.
‘Art courses.’
‘You can’t draw anything.’ She blinked at me. ‘Or paint. Or sculpt. In fact, your complete lack of artistic ability is the biggest bane of Biddy’s existence.’
I stuck out my tongue at her.
‘Trying to decide on a course?’ she asked. She’d had everything all picked out since year seven.
‘Trying to decide on courses,’ I confirmed, shutting the booklet. ‘If I pick the wrong ones . . .’
‘So what? You do a short course. You transfer. It’s not the end of the world.’ She looked out at Tyrone and shivered. ‘Why does he go out there?’ She sounded completely bewildered.
‘Because he’s insane. I put my toe in the water the other day. Freezing.’
‘Do you think he’ll get frostbite so bad his bits’ll drop off?’
‘Please don’t.’
‘He doesn’t even surf. What’s the point of all that cold water if you don’t even surf?’
‘He’s Tyrone,’ I said.
‘Yeah, he’s Tyrone.’
Loretta studied me with a frown on her face. Loretta saw me. She’d always seen me. She saved me a spot next to her in class and always found me when I hid during lunch and recess. When she was little, she’d drawn pictures of us together. And one day, two mermaids had crept into the picture, too. I still had that picture stuffed in my bedside table, not that I’d told her. I knew she would’ve forgotten all about it by now.
One time, years ago, the school decided Loretta was so smart she should really skip a year, but she threw such a tantrum about the whole thing that it never happened and she stayed with me. Sometimes I wondered if she did it to keep an eye on me, to keep me company, although she swore it had nothing to do with me. That she wanted to make sure she had a solid foundation for her law course after school.
‘Tyrone’s an idiot,’ I said and Loretta nodded. She had that glazed look, though. I groaned. ‘Are you looking for snow? It’s never going to snow here!’
‘It might snow here.’
‘No! It won’t! It never has!’
‘Doesn’t mean it never will.’ She frowned. ‘Besides, your mum always said it snowed here when she was little.’
‘Mum said a lot of things,’ I said, without thinking. I blinked, shocked. Where had that come from? I never said stuff like that about my mum.
Loretta raised an eyebrow, but recovered quickly and cleared her throat. ‘It’ll happen! Just trust me!’
I rolled my eyes and picked up my course guide again.
I knew that Loretta was hoping I’d go and study with her on the ma
inland, so we could be roomies, but I was thinking more and more that I’d end up in Launceston or Hobart, so I could still be no more than a few hours away from the beach, the cove. My home. The idea of being any further away made me feel kind of sick. But, then again, so did being away from Loretta.
‘Mermaid,’ Loretta said as a big wave reared up behind Tyrone. He ducked under it as it broke and emerged on the other side, pushing his hair out of his face.
‘Mermaid,’ I repeated, as another wave broke, further out.
‘So,’ Loretta said, rolling onto her stomach and making rude shapes in the sand, ‘I’ve gone off the gatecrashing idea. It’s not classy. I reckon we sneak over to Songbrooke and dump a whole lot of seaweed around the place so it reeks. Tyrone would totally help. Gordon won’t because he thinks he’s too mature. Thoughts?’
‘I’m invited,’ I said. ‘Ben invited me. But I’m not going. Not with Amber being weird.’
‘Ben invited you? Handsome Ben invited you?’ Loretta sat bolt upright. ‘If you don’t go, I’ll never speak to you again. How can you even think of not going when Handsome Ben invited you?’
‘Since when are we calling him Handsome Ben?’ I asked. ‘Amber will be awful. I can’t handle any more drama at the moment, Rets.’
‘Simon Figg is going.’
‘Um, okay.’
‘I am in love with Simon Figg.’
‘I thought it was Thomas Chudleigh.’
‘No! No, totally went off him when I saw him eating a booger. Can you imagine? Ugh. No, Simon Figg is the love of my life. And if you don’t go, I can’t go.’
‘Of course you can!’
‘Please? Please, please, please! Oh, imagine if we ended up with Simon Figg and Handsome Ben?’
‘No.’
‘Handsome Ben will be heartbroken if you don’t show.’
‘He won’t care! He’s probably going out with one of the surfer girls. He was just being nice the other night because Evie’s only little and he’s being nice now because he feels sorry for me. End of story.’
‘No.’
‘You don’t get to say no!’
‘No.’ Loretta stood up and put her hands on her hips. ‘I am staging an intervention.’
I groaned.
‘This is for your own good. We’re going to the party. We’ll take Gordon because he’ll never forgive us if he misses out on seeing the inside of Songbrooke. I’ll stay over at yours after, okay? We can totally walk back there from Songbrooke.’ She grimaced. ‘Man, wish I lived that close to Songbrooke and Handsome Ben. And you have Simon Figg! He’s only like five blocks away!’
‘I hate you.’
‘You won’t when you feel Handsome Ben’s lips—’
‘Stop it! Fine! I’ll go! But I hate you.’
Loretta grinned and fist pumped the air. Out on the water I saw Tyrone tip his head quizzically, no doubt wondering what Loretta had just bullied me into.
***
Loretta had always been amazing at maths. I’d always been terrible. She’d been able to drag me through primary school and half of high school, but now I just shook my head.
‘It’s over,’ I said. We were sitting on the verandah with my maths books. Biddy had let us order pizza and I felt kind of gross from all the cheese. There was a big chunk of brownie missing from the tin since Tyrone had come back in from the beach. Evie was stalking up and down the hallway like a panther, waiting to see if her plan had worked.
Loretta scowled at me. ‘It’s not! C’mon – just listen to me explain it again! So you carry this one to . . .’
‘It’s over, Loretta. You’ve fought a valiant fight. I’m unteachable.’
‘No, you’re not!’ She leaned in. ‘You know what? Handsome Ben’s super good at maths.’
‘How would you know?’
‘He’s in my specialist maths class with all the year twelves.’
‘So?’
‘Just one more try?’ Loretta urged in her most cloying, overly sweet voice. ‘Please?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I’ve absolutely had it. Movie?’
She shook her head. ‘Oh, alright. Let’s watch a movie.’
There was a sudden groaning noise and the sound of the bathroom door slamming. I heard Evie whack the door. ‘That’ll teach you for eating my brownies!’ she yelled.
Loretta looked up at me, eyebrows raised.
‘Brownie laxatives, remember?’ I said.
‘Oh yeah! Sorry. It’s hard to keep track of all your juvenile in-fighting.’
I snorted and elbowed Loretta in the ribs. Evie wandered down the hallway to the living room, looking as smug as I’d ever seen her.
***
Saturday dawned still and sunny and I lay in bed for ages, just thinking about Handsome Ben. And the fact that our hands had been close enough to touch the other day in history. I could’ve touched his hands. His Hands. And we were going to go running together. I could barely think about it.
When I got up, Evie was drawing at the kitchen bench and Tyrone was making a coffee.
‘You look like crap,’ I told him.
‘He shouldn’t have eaten those brownies,’ Evie said, not looking up.
‘I didn’t eat the brownies! I had gastro!’
‘Bull,’ said Evie.
‘You totally ate the brownies,’ I said.
‘I didn’t!’
Evie stamped a foot. ‘You did! And you put all Gwen’s shoes up in the tree!’
‘I did do that,’ he said. ‘But I didn’t eat the brownies!’ Suddenly his face changed, he muttered oh, no under his breath and ran down the hallway to the bathroom.
‘He’s such a liar,’ Evie said.
‘Yup.’
‘You going out?’
‘Yeah.’ I looked at her for a moment. I was pretty impressed by the genius of the laxative brownies. ‘Wanna come?’
‘Can’t. Mum’s taking me to the dentist,’ Evie said, showing me all her teeth.
I grabbed my wallet and headed off to meet Loretta to go dress shopping.
On my way, I stopped in at a little shop on the main street called Crystal Quotient. The owner, Mau, had been a friend of my mum’s.
My dad didn’t mention my mum if he could help it. I got the feeling sometimes that he was sort of glad to be rid of her. He loved her – I knew that – but still, Mum was strange. And maybe, sometimes, a bit difficult. Biddy wasn’t.
It wasn’t that people said bad things about Mum – they didn’t – but mostly, nobody really talked about her. And sometimes I’d walk through the main strip and wonder how this had been my mum’s town, how she had lived here her whole life and yet not left any trace of herself. It was kind of unsettling. I didn’t like the idea of disappearing.
Mau was different though. She loved to talk about my mum. And sometimes I stopped by because I needed to hear her stories. Mau and my mum were both wild and colourful and loud. They’d clung to each other. And Mau had been the one who cried the loudest at Mum’s funeral, until even the reverend had to stop mid-speech and someone had taken her, not very gently, outside. I knew, because I’d been outside all along. I had refused to go in. I just couldn’t. I only knew about the crying because Loretta had told me. I’d stayed with Loretta for a couple of days, afterwards.
When I talked to Mau about my mum, I sometimes learned new stories; what Mum thought of certain things and what she’d done in this town. It gave me the best feeling, still being able to learn things about her even though she wasn’t here, anymore.
I went into Crystal Quotient and Mau glanced up without much interest and then did a double-take.
‘Pearl!’
She was a bony little thing, with dead-straight blonde hair that she cut in a straight line above her eyebrows and then again below her ears. She beamed up at me and pinched my cheeks until I batted her away.
‘Have some tea! I just made it.’ She poured a cup and then frowned at me. ‘Your aura . . .’
‘No, Mau. I don’t want
you to cleanse my aura.’ I took a sip of the tea. It burned my throat and I coughed.
‘See?’ She looked smug. ‘If you let me cleanse your aura you wouldn’t choke on it.’
‘I’m choking on the tea! I don’t even have an aura!’
‘Do too.’
‘Do not.’
‘I’m glad you came,’ she said.
‘I’m glad I came too,’ I said, although I was feeling a bit too tired for Mau. Some days were like that.
We sat in a set of stained beanbags by her card-reading table. Mum had taken me to this shop a lot when I was young. And it had seemed glamorous and mysterious, like an underwater cave, with its sparkling wares and dark-blue walls. They’d sit in this corner of the shop and sip at teacups, becoming louder and more raucous until they’d forget I was there. I played with a set of tiny dragon figurines or smelled all the different types of essential oil. Sometimes it was dark by the time Mum remembered me. I’d always thought she was drinking tea, but thinking back, I wasn’t so sure.
‘Your mum loved these beanbags,’ Mau said, blowing her nose. ‘She came to me the other day.’
‘Mau.’
‘She loves you very much.’
I stood up. I was feeling too sleep-deprived and shaky to listen to Mau carry on about Mum’s ghost. As much as I loved hearing the stories about Mum, the ghost stuff always freaked me out. ‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I’ve gotta go.’
‘You only just got here!’
‘Forgot about something I’ve gotta do.’ I slugged the tea, letting it scorch my throat. The teacup smelled a little like whisky. ‘Thanks, though! See you next time!’
She smiled and pinched my cheeks and then I was gone, flying down the road and only stopping when I’d reached the police station.
I went in and sat down, and when Martin came out of his office, he pulled a face. ‘Oh no. What are you doing here?’
‘I’m having a moment, Martin.’
‘This is a police station, Gwen! Shouldn’t you be having your moment at an under-age party somewhere?’
‘Are you encouraging me to go to under-age parties?’ I asked, propping my hand behind my head.
‘You can’t hang out here, Gwendolyn!’ he said, sitting down behind the front desk. ‘It’s not appropriate.’
‘Why, though? Why not? I’m not doing anything! I’m not being disruptive! I’m just a law-abiding citizen having a ponder.’
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