by Bridle, Dee
I heard laughing downstairs and knew my father was back with his girlfriend from their weekend getaway. They did a lot of weekend getaways, which suited me fine; the less I saw of them both, the better. I was under no illusions. My father worked hard and wanted to play harder, and it was complicated with a teenage daughter under the same roof who reminded him of the woman who had left him five years ago.
Sarah and I did not have much in common other than my father. She enjoyed the designer life and worked very hard to find a rich man to marry who could afford her lifestyle. Enter my father. I tried to keep my distance from both of them.
My phone rang and I jumped on it to see it was Sophie.
“Hey,” she said “what happened to you last night?”
I wanted to tell her but decided that I wanted to keep Zac to myself for a while.
“What happened with you and Antony?” I asked instead.
“Nothing too serious, but I got to second base with him,” she said giggling, “He’s so cute, Ava.”
“Yeah,” I said, knowing that I didn’t find him attractive at all.
I knew who was attractive now and the bar had been set high.
“So, Nathan is having a party next Saturday, and we have to go,” she continued. “You’ve been sent a Facebook invite.”
“Okay.”
“I plan to go to all of their parties from now on. I had so much fun last night. Did you?”
I paused. Apart from being drugged.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Anyone you like?”
A dark, mysterious rebel, I wanted to say, but instead, I told her, “Not really.”
“I’ll find you someone, maybe at Nathan’s party. See you at school tomorrow.”
I put my phone down and then went to my laptop, opening Facebook. I saw the invite for Nathan’s party and accepted. Then I was soon searching out Antony on my Friends List and then clicking on his profile. I then clicked on his friends list and searched for either Zac or Noah. I found Noah’s profile and opened it, seeing a photo of him doing the devil sign with his fingers. I searched through his friends list and found a profile called Zac Demented and knew that it was him.
I knew it wasn’t his real surname, but it was obviously his way of keeping his distance from the social world. Only people who knew him would find him. His profile photo was of a skull with crossbones, like a pirate warning, and I couldn’t help but feel amused. I had been warned. His cover photo was a close-up of a tattoo and I knew it had to be his, and I wondered what part of his body it covered. I had seen the ones on his arms and was curious if all of the tattoos on his arms continued onto his chest or back. I found myself moistening my lips just thinking about his body and his tattoos and shook my head. I had lost my mind.
I was disappointed to see that the rest of his profile was blocked from viewing and I wanted to be crazy for a moment and click on “Add Friend.” I stood up, away from the laptop as if not trusting myself. He would have gone home last night and not given me another moment’s thought. Why would I even set myself up for the rejection? He wouldn’t want me as a Facebook friend.
But I wanted to. I was drawn to him. There was something about him that just made me want to let everything go and be crazy. What was the worst thing that could happen? He would reject the friend request, no big deal. I could handle that. Couldn’t I?
I braced myself and quickly sat back down and clicked on it, cringing as it processed. What had I done? I quickly clicked on Noah’s as well so it didn’t look like I was just singling Zac out. Maybe they would all have a laugh at my expense? Maybe they wouldn’t.
I kept my distance from my father and Sarah until I was asked to come down to share dinner with them. Sarah had done her usual and had ordered a Thai banquet that had been delivered from the nearest restaurant.
“How was your weekend?” asked my father, looking relaxed and happy at the table.
“Okay,” I said starting to eat. “Yours?”
“We had a lovely time, Ava,” Sarah said, beaming at me.
“Great,” I mumbled, starting to eat.
I didn’t miss the look between the two of them and suddenly stopped chewing. Something was going on with them and my skin prickled.
“Ava, I’ve asked Sarah to move in with us,” said my father with a smile.
I tried not to choke on the food in my mouth and swallowed hard. I looked from him to her, to see she was beaming. She was one step closer to a ring. I looked back at my father, realizing the smile was forced, and he was waiting for my reaction. I wanted to shout and scream. I wanted to remind him that my mother might come back. I wanted to tip the contents of my plate over Sarah’s head, but I didn’t do any of it.
I forced a smile instead.
“That’s great, Sarah. You’re practically here every night anyway.”
She giggled and took my father’s hand on the table.
“I know, and I’m really looking forward to getting to know you better, Ava.”
I felt my food rise back up my throat. That was the last thing I wanted. I went back to eating, forcing my food down, so I could leave the table. I wanted to be anywhere but here right now. I listened to them talk about their weekend and laugh about funny shared moments, excluding me from the conversation. I needed to move out. It was only going to get worse. My father was moving on, and I hated him for it.
My phone beeped with a notification and I quickly looked down at it. Noah had accepted my friend request and I suddenly felt delighted. It soon beeped again with a Facebook wall message. I put my chopsticks and napkin over my plate and got up from the table. I headed upstairs, leaving them to it.
Noah: All back to normal?
I smiled and responded: Yes, whatever that is.
He didn’t say anything more and I sat on my bed, happy that one request had been successful. Now I just needed one from Zac.
Zac
I shook my head at Noah who was sitting across from me on the couch. He laughed as he kicked his shoes off.
“What? She sent me a friend request.”
“You didn’t have to accept, you douche,” I said, and went back to concentrating on my laptop.
Noah chuckled again.
“Are you going to accept? I know she would have sent you one,” he said lighting a joint.
“No,” I replied, my fingers typing quickly, my eyes glancing over information, photos, and details she had no idea that were available online with the right knowledge.
“You’re hacking into her stuff as we speak, aren’t you?” laughed Noah. “You’ve got it bad.”
“Don’t fuck with me, Noah,” I muttered, still typing.
Noah shook his head and then leaned back and dragged on his joint.
“She’s hot.”
I continued to type, ignoring him. I knew she was hot, the hottest girl I had ever met.
“Like really hot,” Noah added, knowing he was the only one who was allowed to give me shit.
Anyone else would have had my fist to his jaw a minute ago. I hadn’t been a champion underground fighter over the years for nothing.
“Find anything interesting?”
“Nope,” I said.
He chuckled again.
“You wouldn’t tell me anyway.”
I sighed, and said, “I need to stay away from her.”
He grinned, saying, “She’d be good for you.”
I shook my head.
“I’d be the worst kind of bad for her.”
Ava
At about three o’clock the next morning, I received the notification that I wanted. Zac had accepted my friend request. I padded over to my laptop, logged on and looked at his profile. There were a few messages on there from friends and links to bands and their music. He hadn’t completed any information on himself and had just an email address listed. He hadn’t put up any photos, but I could see he had been tagged in a couple. They were all group shots with him at a pub with Noah and the blond guy. Others were at a m
usic festival with him drinking beers. There was nothing else, and I was disappointed that I couldn’t get any more information from his page. He truly was mysterious.
I received another notification of a message. Zac had responded on my wall to Noah’s discussion with me about being back to normal.
Zac: Normal is not something to aspire to…it’s something to get away from.
I grinned at his response, thinking of what to say back to him. Noah responded back to him first.
Noah: Someone famous said that…you didn’t come up with that, Demented.
I typed part of a quote from a favorite French artist I had studied.
Ava: …the normal is psychotic. Normal means lack of imagination, lack of creativity.
I hit enter and giggled softly to myself, waiting for what would be said next.
Zac came back instantly.
Zac: For me, insanity is super sanity…
It was the beginning of my quote by Jean Dubuffet and I giggled excitedly. He had known exactly who and what I was talking about. Noah responded next.
Noah: I’m too high for this – see you fuckers
I smiled in excitement, reading over the conversation. I had to look at my quote and really understand it. I was too normal. I focused solely on school and I needed an outlet, needed to show my imagination and creativity. Maybe, just maybe, he would like me a little more, too.
Chapter Three: Good Girls Don’t Make Calls at 2:30 a.m.
Ava
“So who are those guys you were talking to on Facebook?” asked Sophie the next day.
I shrugged and said, “Just those guys we all talked to at the party on Saturday night.”
She glared at me and said, “I didn’t realize you became that close.”
“I didn’t,” I lied. “They’re just friends.”
She went back to concentrating on her phone, obviously re-reading my conversation on Facebook.
“Noah…that’s Antony’s hot neighbor, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I said watching the teacher walk in and turn on the projector.
“Are you interested in him?” she whispered.
“No,” I said, but I was very interested in his friend.
“They look like trouble, if you ask me,” she said as the class started.
I wasn’t asking.
When I got home from school that afternoon, I glowered when I saw Sarah’s car in the driveway.
“Ava? Is that you?” she called out sweetly from the kitchen.
I grunted, knowing she knew it was me. I had no time for her pretense.
“How was school?” she asked coming into the main hallway with a bright smile and tight leggings. “I’ve just come back from a workout.”
“School was great,” I muttered as I moved past her to go up the stairs to my room.
I knew my father really liked her and was making her a permanent member in the house, but I didn’t have to like it.
“What do you have planned for this weekend?” she asked. “We’re going up to Sydney.”
Of course they were.
“I’m going to a party,” I mumbled, my back to her as I continued up the stairs.
“Need a party dress? We could go shopping,” she said brightly.
“No, thanks, I’m wearing jeans.”
“To a party?” she asked in disbelief. “Ava, it’s always important to look your best at all times. You never know who you will meet.”
“I’ve met everyone that will be there. I go to school with them,” I returned coolly.
I made it to my room and closed the door behind me, shutting her and her silly opinions out. We were never going to be friends, and I knew she was trying extra hard with me so I could give positive reviews to my father. She’d do anything to get her closer to having a ring and the life she wanted.
I sat on the bed and put some music on. Sometimes the silence in the house was deafening and made me want to scream.
My father and I used to talk. Sometimes we even used to laugh. But everything had changed five years ago, and now we hardly say a word to each other. He was occupied with the law firm for the most part, and then Sarah, when he got home. He didn’t have much time in his schedule for me anymore.
I opened my bag and got out my laptop, opening it up onto my bed. Time to study.
* * *
Later on in the week, I went to the hairdressers by myself and provided them with a few pictures of styles I liked and ended up with a layered look with a fringe swept to the side. I looked good and was happy with the change.
Sarah had been excited that night when I had appeared with my new style, and my father put it all down to her. I wasn’t going to even try and tell him any different, because he wouldn’t have heard me anyway.
I practiced different make-up looks, liking the thick eyeliner that made my eyes pop. Sophie came over and practiced with me, looking forward to Nathan’s party. I still hadn’t told her about Zac, even though there was nothing much to say. I hadn’t heard a thing from him, and they hadn’t been on Facebook at all. I knew that we didn’t hang in the same circles as them and probably wouldn’t see them again. But I desperately hoped we did, because I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
* * *
By Saturday night, we were ready to have some fun. I had on a pair of tight black jeans with my Converse sneakers and my hair was down and straightened, thanks to my new hair straightener. I had more make-up on, especially around my eyes, and I felt a little more confident when I walked into Nathan’s party.
Sophie wore a new tight dress and heels and grinned at me excitedly as we walked through the dancing bodies. I didn’t want to be exactly like her. I had my own style going on, but I knew that grin. We were feeling good about ourselves and wanted some fun.
Our regular school friends greeted us, and we were shown the drinks area. Antony was already standing there doing shots and poured two for us. Sophie asked him to take a photo of us doing shots with her phone, and then she uploaded it to Facebook, tagging me in it. I finally felt like I was doing what I should be doing on a Saturday night. Sophie’s happiness was infectious, and I laughed and drank with her.
In the early hours of the morning, the party continued, and I sat out in the front of the house with my head spinning. I had drunk too much, but still felt happy enough. I focused on the screen of my phone and saw it was 2:30 a.m. My finger slipped and opened up the Contacts page and started to scroll through. I went to close it and then stopped. My eyes narrowed on a Contact that I didn’t know I had.
Zac.
Totally surprised, I was a little curious on how it got there and then I smiled at the thought of him adding it that night. I wanted to press it, call him and hear his deep voice. Whether it was the alcohol giving me the extra confidence or my current mindset of wanting to rebel, I didn’t really know or care. So I pressed it. My stomach fluttered with butterflies as I waited for him to answer.
“Hey,” shouted Zac, with loud heavy music in the background.
“Hi,” I said, wondering if he could hear me at all.
It sounded like he was in a club or pub somewhere.
“What’s up?” he shouted back.
I was about to answer when I heard a girl laughing and then the call ended.
Right. I glared at the screen and then shook my head. Why the hell did I do that? He was busy with another girl and now I felt like an idiot. I leaned my head against the railing on the front step and closed my eyes. My head spun, and I felt completely annoyed at myself. I needed to stop thinking about him.
My phone rang in my hand making me jump and I looked at the screen to see it was him. I thought about not answering it, but my thumb had other ideas.
“Hey,” I said quietly.
“You okay?” he asked, now somewhere quiet, so I could hear him.
“Yep,” I answered, closing my eyes and holding my head in my hand.
“Good girls don’t make calls at 2:30 a.m. unless something is wrong.”
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“That’s what you think I am? A good girl?” I asked in a whisper.
“Aren’t you?” he returned.
I didn’t want to answer. I knew the answer and so did he. I suddenly hated that he thought I was a good girl.
“I can be bad,” I announced.
“That’s the alcohol talking,” he said next.
I was annoyed at his response.
“So, you’re only interested in bad girls?”
“Something like that.”
I cringed at my own stupidity. Didn’t I already know that he wasn’t interested? Now I had to confirm it all over again. I really was an idiot.
“How’s the party? Going wild on vodka cruisers?” he asked in a mocking tone.
I was puzzled over his knowledge of the party, and then I realized it was from Sophie’s photo on Facebook. I cringed, hoping I looked okay in it.
“Tequila shots, actually,” I said quietly. “How’s the party wherever you are?”
“Rhino just finished their set. I’m about to leave.”
“I guess your bad girls like the band Rhino.”
“Some,” he replied.
“How many bad girls are there?”
“A few.”
I shook my head. I was so out of his league, and he was so not interested. He had the whole girl thing truly covered.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to them all.”
“Do me a favor,” he said next.
“What?”
“Go home.”
I glowered at his demand, not understanding where it was coming from or why he would even say it.
“Why? The party is still going.”