Charlotte and Olivia, who are just ahead of us on the footpath, turn to look at me. Panic tightens my chest. Tristan is a tall boy who sits at the end of our row next to his friend Jason. What if there’s something wrong with him I haven’t noticed?
‘He’s a doll,’ Olivia says.
‘Yeah,’ Tiffany agrees, giving me a big grin, ‘he’s like gorgeous enough to be on Neighbours or something.’
Seems like my dorkometer is beginning to work already! Suddenly, the shadows lengthening across people’s grass look beautiful. I imagine a girl my age standing at a lounge-room window, looking out at me, who’s walking along with three cool friends. That lonely girl is so jealous she feels like throwing up. If only she knew that two of my friends are models! There’s a page from the Myer summer catalogue stuck on Olivia’s fridge, showing her and Tiffany in board shorts and singlet tops.
We’ve reached a Mobil service station now. I’ve never been to this shopping centre before, but it’s similar to the one near my house. We pass by a computer store, a pizza place and a Bakers Delight, then we’re at Video Ezy. Olivia’s already told us she’s got a coupon for a new release plus three weeklies, which works out perfectly. She gets to choose the new release because her parents are paying, and the rest of us each get to pick a weekly.
We walk into the shop. Olivia heads straight to the new release wall while Charlotte makes a beeline towards the horror section. What am I supposed to do? Follow them, or go somewhere else? Confusion marches in and shoves aside my happiness.
‘Want to look at the comedies with me?’ Tiffany asks.
‘Sure!’ I answer. Hope I didn’t sound too desperate.
We wander up and down the aisle. There are hundreds of movies here. How do I know which one to choose that won’t make me look stupid? I wish they had codes on them that labelled them, ‘Dork’, ‘Semi-Dork’ or ‘Cool’. There’s Muriel’s Wedding, my old favourite. Is that a safe choice, I wonder? I have to pick something. Maybe they’ll like it. I imagine the four of us dancing around to the Abba music that Muriel loves.
‘What did you choose?’ I ask Tiffany.
She answers by holding up a DVD. It’s Romy and Michelle’s High School Reunion.
‘You ready, guys?’ Suddenly, Charlotte and Olivia are beside us. Olivia reaches over and takes the DVD Tiffany is holding. ‘This movie is awesome!’ Olivia enthuses. ‘I’ve watched it like twenty times.’
I hold up Muriel’s Wedding. ‘Is this OK?’ I ask. My heart is beating faster than it ever has before at any video shop.
‘Sure,’ Charlotte answers. ‘My auntie loves it. She’s 42 and never had a boyfriend.’
I should have known. My time as a Cool Girl lasted two days.
‘Charlotte,’ Olivia says with a warning tone in her voice, ‘are you forgetting something?’
Forgetting what? What’s she talking about?
‘Muriel’s Wedding’s a good movie,’ Tiffany says. ‘It’s got great music.’
We’re sitting on the floor in Olivia’s bedroom, which is about five times the size of mine. She’s got all this great stuff, including a hair crimper, which Tiffany is using on me. Charlotte is sticking tiny blue stars onto her silver fingernails, while Olivia is reading us an article called ‘How to Keep a Guy Interested’ from Girlfriend.
Charlotte hasn’t said anything to me since we left the video store. But she’s sending me vibes. Right now, as Olivia reads how you shouldn’t always be available when your boyfriend rings, Charlotte is looking at me out of the corner of her eye as if she’d like to obliterate me. What have I done to her? I just want to be happy! This is like the most normal-girl night of my entire life. We’ve watched Romy and Michelle, eaten two giant pizzas and drunk two bottles of vanilla Coke. Pretty soon we’re going to pop some popcorn, light candles and put on the latest Nightmare on Elm Street.
Olivia reaches the end of the article, shuts the magazine and takes a handful of lollies out of the big bowl that’s in the centre of our rough semi-circle. ‘Your hair’s lookin’ good, girl,’ she says to me. ‘You should wear it crimped more often.’
I can feel Tiffany’s fingers touching her handiwork. ‘It’s really silky,’ she says. ‘What kind of shampoo do you use?’
‘Uh …’ I don’t want to tell them about the giant economy bottles Mum buys from the discount hair place at the mall. Mentally, I do a scan through all the shampoo and conditioner commercials I can remember and announce, ‘Pantene Pro V.’
Olivia nods as though I’ve just said something extremely wise. ‘I’ve been trying to get my mum to buy that. She says it’s too expensive.’
‘I use it,’ Tiffany says, running her hands through the white-blonde hair that was once on a TV ad.
I glance over at Charlotte. She’s munching on jelly babies, looking as if she couldn’t care less what shampoo I use.
‘This is the life.’ Mum holds her glass out towards me, over her bowl of seafood noodle soup. ‘A good chardonnay, nice food, a daughter to die for …’
‘I hope you don’t have to do that,’ I laugh, clinking my lemonade against her wine.
‘It’s just an expression, my dear,’ she says happily as she expertly lifts a prawn out of her soup with her chopsticks. She’s really pleased with herself for finishing that big project she’s been working on.
‘You look nice,’ I tell her. She’s wearing the dangly gold lightning-bolt earrings I got her for Christmas, and makeup. The table hides how much weight she’s put on her stomach and hips. From the chest up she still looks pretty.
‘Thanks, kid.’ She gives me a big smile.
We came to the Vietnamese tonight instead of last night like we intended, because I had the sleep-over. On Friday when I told Mum I needed to change our plans, I was afraid she might chuck a fit. But she understood. On the way to Olivia’s she took me to Coles to get the vanilla Coke, and she spotted some Dove chocolate on special and told me to buy a couple of bars of that as well. I feel a little sick when I think of the Dove. I kept it a secret till 1:00 a.m. when we were in our sleeping bags on the lounge room floor watching Nightmare on Elm Street on Olivia’s widescreen TV. When I produced the chocolate, Tiffany and Olivia jumped out of their sleeping bags and pounced on me, screeching, ‘Yum! Dove!’ But Charlotte stayed where she was.
‘Come on,’ Tiffany coaxed her, ‘have some.’
‘I don’t like that stuff,’ Charlotte said in a sulky voice. ‘Cadbury’s heaps better.’
I know what she meant. She meant she doesn’t like me. And I don’t know why! All the rest of the time, till we left on Sunday, I tried being super nice to her. But she acted like I was offering her a boxful of mouse turds. Mum picked me up first, so I have a feeling – actually it’s stronger than a feeling, I more or less know – that after I left, Charlotte tried to convince Tiffany and Olivia that I shouldn’t be in their group.
‘What’s wrong?’ Mum asks me.
‘Nothing!’ I say, savagely stabbing a snow pea with a chopstick. As if I could ask my mother the question that’s on my mind. Namely, what is it about me that kids my own age don’t like? I bet anything Charlotte has pointed it out to Tiffany and Olivia in gory detail. Maybe I should restrict my social life to people under six. I seem to be super popular with them. I never had to worry for a second whether Bethany or Erin liked me. Or Jake … I remember his hard little hands clinging to me at the airport.
‘You’re sure acting like there’s something bothering you,’ Mum persists. ‘Come on,’ she says gently, ‘you can tell me.’
I look up at her. She was in such a good mood a couple of minutes ago. I don’t want to wreck that. But there is something bothering me. Sooner or later, I have to bring up this subject that Mum won’t like. It’ll make her mad no matter when I mention it. Maybe I should try and keep her happy tonight? I’m still debating when I hear myself blurt out, ‘Can I go to Canberra again?’
‘When?’ Her gentle smile has vanished.
‘Maybe next weekend
? Or the one after?’
‘You just got back from there!’ She winds some noodles around her chopsticks and pops them in her mouth, but I can tell she’s not tasting them. I don’t like being responsible for that sour look on her face. But I had to ask her some time!
‘Sarah and Dad’ll pay,’ I say.
‘It’s not that!’
‘What is it then?’
She doesn’t say anything, just frowns furiously at something over my left shoulder. But her silence doesn’t hide anything because I already know the answer to my question. She’s always hated sharing me with Dad, hated me being in the same room with the Home Wrecker who took her man. When I was little I wanted to stay away from Sarah because of how she hurt Mum. But since Jake was born I’ve got to know her really well, and I can’t help it if I like her!
‘I want to see Alice while she’s still little,’ I say, and then I turn to see what Mum’s staring at. It’s a painting of an Oriental lake with some pointy mountains behind it. When I turn back, there are tears in Mum’s eyes. Jeez. Why does she have to act like I’m betraying her if I mention Alice’s name?
‘She is my sister,’ I point out.
‘Your half-sister,’ she answers bitterly.
‘She’s not a half-sister to me!’ There are tears in my voice now. ‘She’s a whole gorgeous little baby. Just because you hate her!’
‘Stop shouting,’ Mum says, looking around nervously at the other customers. But I don’t care who hears me. Sometimes my mother goes too far.
‘I hardly ate anything yesterday,’ Tiffany says.
‘Because you stuffed yourself stupid on Saturday night!’ Olivia giggles.
We’re in home group and I’m feeling fantastic. Last night I totally convinced myself that Charlotte would have persuaded Tiffany and Olivia to hate me. So it was like a miracle when I got to our spot this morning and they seemed really glad to see me. Even Charlotte smiled at me.
‘Hey, you …’ Billy bellows. ‘Kaitlin!’
‘What?’
‘How come you’re sittin’ over there now?’
‘Because I want to!’ I should ignore him, but as usual words shoot out of my mouth before I can stop them. ‘How come you’re not late for the first time ever?’
‘Cos I tried hard,’ he says proudly. ‘Mum got me an alarm clock at the Two Dollar Shop. It clanged in my ear like crazy. It’s pink.’
This time I do manage to not reply. But he keeps talking to me anyway. ‘How come you don’t wanna sit with them any more?’ He hooks his thumb over his shoulder to indicate Matthew and Stephen.
‘Shut up!’ Matthew mutters.
Stephen stares down at his desk.
I can’t believe this. The whole class is looking at us, waiting for my answer. Which Tiffany supplies. ‘She doesn’t want to sit with them because she’s decided to move up in the world.’
‘Guess what I am!’ Billy stands up very straight with his mouth open as wide as possible.
The rest of us just look at him. I feel like smacking his gaping mouth instead of guessing what he’s pretending to be. Why did he have to bring me and Matthew and Stephen to everyone’s attention? Of course I wanted the class to notice I was with the cool girls, but not like this.
‘I’m a mail box!’ Billy announces in a wounded voice. ‘Youse must be stupider than I thought.’
Miss Larsen, our drama teacher, made us get into groups and she didn’t let us choose who we wanted to be with. We had to pull a coloured square out of a hat and then get together with the other people who had the same colour. This is so crap! All the times I needed teachers to use a method like this, they never did. Now that I have a group of my own, I get stuck with a bunch of randoms.
I watched Justine as she marched over to Olivia’s group, proudly holding up the purple square that would gain her admittance. Olivia looked about as pleased as if she’d spotted a daddy long legs, but she had to take her.
The other people who got gold like me are Vi, Billy and Tristan. At close range, Tristan’s green eyes sparkle like the sea on a sunny day. Which almost makes up for being with Billy. Plus I’m glad we’ve got Vi, because I know from the acrostic she wrote that she has good ideas. Miss Larsen said we had twenty minutes to make ourselves into inanimate objects, then we have to show our act to the class.
‘Hey, Bill,’ Tristan says, ‘what’s this?’ He snaps his hand open and closed in front of Billy’s face.
‘A flying bird?’
‘Nope. It’s your mouth!’ Tristan slaps Billy on the shoulder so he’ll know the joke’s not meant to be mean.
‘We have only sixteen minutes left,’ Vi points out in her careful way of speaking. She taps her watch.
‘Who’s counting?’ Tristan teases.
‘We are,’ Vi frowns, ‘if we want to do a good object.’ She peers around to see how much work the other groups are doing.
‘Let’s be an aeroplane!’ Matthew’s voice rises above everyone else’s in the class. Jason, Chloe and La ended up in his group. ‘You be the wings and I’ll be the fuselage,’ he shouts, flapping his arms wildly. La looks at Matthew with terror in her eyes.
‘How come you don’t hang around with him any more?’ Tristan asks me. Why’s everyone so interested?
‘Yeah,’ Billy chimes in, ‘you gave that big guy and the little nerd the flick pretty quick.’
‘I didn’t give them the flick!’ I explode. ‘I just got other friends!’
Tristan nods as though he understands. ‘So what happened with you and Mrs McPain?’ he wants to know. ‘Did you get in trouble?’
I wince to hear how quickly that nickname has caught on. Should I tell Tristan that I did get in trouble? When I told Olivia and the others, they acted like it was something to be proud of. ‘I have to do a detention tomorrow,’ I admit, ‘at lunch-time.’
Tristan looks sympathetic.
‘Jeez,’ Billy yells, ‘I thought I was gonna be the first to get one. Wait till I tell the olds!’
‘We have only fourteen minutes left,’ Vi says.
‘They grounded for me for a month after I got a detention on orientation day,’ Billy goes on. ‘Since then I’ve been tryin’ really hard to be good.’
‘We must start!’ Vi pronounces with authority. ‘I believe we could act as a toaster oven.’
Sometimes Mum looks good to me. But other times, when I’m in a crap mood like I always am first thing in the morning, she looks disgusting. Especially in that pink dressing-gown that’s so old she must have brought it over with her from England. I try not to look at her as I sit at the kitchen table, eating my two Weet-Bix with sliced banana. I’d rather have chocolate Pop Tarts but I can hear Eve’s voice in my head telling me how important it is to have a healthy, low-fat breakfast.
The screech of the coffee grinder rips through my brain, making me look just where I don’t want to, at Mum’s stomach swelling beneath the tattered but tightly tied belt. The grinder is not a good sign. I wish she was still in bed like she usually is when I eat breakfast. When Mum’s in the kitchen this early making real coffee, it means she hasn’t been able to sleep. Maybe I can get out of the house without talking to her. But I need to talk to her about something.
‘Mum?’ I say as sweetly as I can manage.
‘What?’ Mum growls. She still hasn’t forgiven me for wanting to spend more time with the Home Wrecker. Which makes it hard for me to get over being mad at her for calling Alice half a sister.
I wish I didn’t have to ask her for anything, but Olivia’s come up with a plan and she’s going to want my answer as soon as I get to home group. ‘Can I go to the city with my friends on Saturday?’ I blurt out. ‘We wanna go on the train.’
‘By yourselves?’
‘Yeah. I mean there’s four of us. We’d stay together the whole time. We thought our mothers could drop us off at the station.’
‘I guess you’ve got it all figured out,’ Mum says sadly. She dumps the coffee into the plunger and pours in boiling wa
ter. Then she brings the plunger and her favourite sand-coloured mug over to the table and sits down across from me.
‘Don’t you want me to have friends?’ I ask.
‘Of course I do.’ She doesn’t sound mad any more. She just sounds tired. I stare at the blue sea-shells on Mum’s mug as she pours her coffee. She looks up at me and says, ‘Do you realise it’s my birthday next month?’
‘As if I’d forget that!’ Actually, I hadn’t given it a thought. ‘I’ve got a really good present picked out,’ I say. Maybe Sarah will help me choose something when I’m in Canberra. Assuming I get to go to Canberra.
‘I’m not concerned about presents.’ Mum sounds like she’s about to cry. Part of me wants to run around the table, give her a big hug and say, ‘It’s all right, I’ll never speak to Sarah again!’ But then I remember Alice on the day she was born, her face round and perfect as a new gold coin. I have to see her again, no matter what Mum thinks.
She’s thinking hard now, holding her mug in two hands, staring out the window behind me. She takes a drink and focuses on me. ‘Do you know how old I’m turning?’
‘Uh,’ I guess. ‘Thirty-eight?’
‘I wish,’ she says glumly. ‘I’ll be forty.’
‘Let’s have a big party,’ I suggest. I wouldn’t have said that last Tuesday, but now I have friends to invite.
‘Don’t you get it?’ she snaps. ‘I don’t feel like celebrating!’
‘Why not?’
‘Because …’ her voice wavers, ‘I never intended to hit forty and still be alone. I didn’t think you’d start getting your own life when you were only twelve. I mean I’m happy for you … could you hand me a tissue?’
I reach over and grab one from the far end of the table. Mum blows her nose and continues, ‘It’s just hard for me to think of you becoming all independent and I’m just, I don’t know, old! And fat! I feel like an ugly hippo but I just keep stuffing food in because it’s my only comfort!’
Term in Year Seven Page 6