the Art of Breaking Up

by Elizabeth Stevens

  For the first time in my life, I legitimately felt like running. The pragmatic part of me knew I just wanted to run away from my problems, but the part of me trying not to deal with my problems didn’t care much for logic. It was more than happy to run away and pretend everything was fine.

  Only, everything wasn’t fine.

  If it was, my heart wouldn’t be racing. My head wouldn’t be full of buzzing static instead of witty one-liners. And I wouldn’t be full of restless energy desperate to come out in the most violent way possible.

  “Um,” Lisa said, bringing me back to the present. “How about the fact that you just pretty much yelled at Mrs Finch for nothing? And before that, you got real short with her to the point you legit talked back. That’s not like you.”

  “What? I’m rude to the teachers all time,” I said with the worst attempt at a laugh.

  “No…” she said slowly. “You’re rude about them. Sometimes. You never actually talk back.”

  I shrugged. “I guess I didn’t sleep well.”

  She looked me over like she could tell that wasn’t it. I mean, I hadn’t. But I didn’t think my not sleeping well was the cause of my mood. An irritant and exacerbator, sure. But not the cause.

  “What? I didn’t.”

  Finally, she just shrugged at me. “Fine. Be good and I’ll see you at lunch,” Lisa said and I nodded absently.

  I got through the next lesson without antagonising any more teachers. Instead of making me feel proud of my efforts and putting me in a better mood, the lack of emotional venting just added to the pressure simmering away under the straining surface.

  So of course, I ran into Wade on the way to the tuck shop. At least it wasn’t quite as literal as Lisa earlier in the week, but opposite sides of the corridor was close enough for me.

  Despite the fact we both paused like we were ready to trade insults, I was going to continue walking like the mature young woman I knew I was supposed to be.

  “Talking back to the teachers, Norah Lincoln,” he tutted. “Watch out or you’ll get a reputation as a scally-wag.”

  But I just couldn’t do it. I rolled my eyes and turned to face him, giving him my best glare from the other side of the corridor. “At least it beats being called a man-whore.”

  He shrugged nonchalantly and stepped closer to me, looking around like it was a scandal that we might be seen together.

  I rolled my eyes again.

  “You really shouldn’t kink-shame people,” he said.

  “Hooking up with everyone you can isn’t a kink.”

  His eyes flashed. “What do you know about kinks?” he asked cheekily.

  “Enough to fill a book far above your reading level.” Which wasn’t true for two reasons.

  “Oh, I’m more than fine just looking at the pictures.” He winked.

  “It’s how you get through all your essays, isn’t it?”

  His grin lit up his grey eyes. “Oh, Norah,” he chastised. “You don’t give any credence to my winning charm.”

  “Well, it’s hardly the teachers’ fault if you don’t have any competition,” I muttered.

  “Was that almost a compliment?” he teased.

  I frowned further, like that would really show him how much I discouraged him. “Never.”

  “Shame.”

  “Hardly.”

  “I miss the days when you used to compliment me.”

  “I miss the days when you were a good guy.”

  He shook his head once, but it looked more like an involuntary twitch. “Is that compulsory? You could just say nice things about me.”

  I laughed at the audacity of this dick. “I’m not going to do that.”

  “Oh, I wish you would.”

  “Then don’t parade around like a stuck-up twat.”

  “Takes one to know one,” he countered with a smirk and I scowled.

  “My twat is just fine, thank you.”

  “Are you sure about that?” He put on a mock-whisper. “I heard it had been a while.”

  “Are you keeping tabs now?”

  He shrugged again. “I’ve told you, Norah. I care.”

  I scoffed. “Pfft. Sure, you do.”

  He nodded. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that was real sincerity in his eyes. “Of course, I care.” Then, it was most definitely gone. “It’s very important to me that someone’s seeing to your…needs.”

  “Well, I’ll save you the trouble. I’m perfectly capable of seeing to my own…needs.”

  “Tell me more, tell me more,” he begged in a low voice that almost made me nearly want to forget who he was.

  They’d been making us do that Grease medley on student activity days every year since Year Seven. Normally, it was a guilty pleasure only Lisa knew about. Not so much at that moment.

  “When did you turn into such a despicable human?”

  “When I realised how much I enjoyed your acerbic wit and constant taunting.”

  I gave him my best withering glare. “Then continue on your way, Phillips. There’s plenty more and I’m very happy to share it with you.”

  “Oh, Lincoln. You know just the way to a boy’s heart,” he fake-gushed.

  “I know my way to his crotch better–”

  “Oh-ho!” he cried with a bright smile and I huffed.

  “If you’d let me finish.”

  “No. No.” He shook his head. “No need.”

  I hoped my cheeks were just getting warm from the frustration rather than blushing and making me look embarrassed. “My foot,” I clarified. “My foot knows its way to a boy’s crotch better–”

  “Sure, Lincoln. Whatever you say.”

  I was running out of face to deepen my scowl at him. “Now who’s kink-shaming?”

  He grinned and leant towards me. “Au contraire. I firmly believe in supporting free expression of female sexuality. In the interest of gender equality and all that.”

  “Yeah, I’ll bet. And it’s got nothing to do…” I saw Lisa walking towards us down the corridor and felt my body naturally sway away from him. “…with the fact you’re a chauvinistic arsehole.”

  Wade got this quirky little confused tilt to his lips like that wasn’t how he’d expected me to finish. It wasn’t how I’d planned to finish that sentence.

  “Not at all. I’m a firm supporter of feminism.”

  “Do you even know what feminism is?” I asked, keeping one eye on Lisa.

  “Do you?”

  It was a reasonable question; we’d been given a very shallow look at the whole movement in History once and it seemed a much larger beast than I was ready to fully investigate at not quite eighteen. But I was saved admitting such a thing.

  Lisa paused when she saw me talking to Wade. “Norah.”

  I flashed her a quick smile as I put as much distance between me and Wade as was possible in a single step. “Lis, I was just coming to find you.”

  She looked between us. “Same,” she answered slowly, like her brain was ticking something over.

  “Lisa,” Wade said smoothly and I saw her give him her undivided, loyal attention. “I was just telling Norah about the party on Saturday. I expect to see you both there.”

  I blinked. When had we been talking about a party?

  “What party?” I asked, my eyes narrowing, as Lisa gushed, “We’ll be there.”

  He turned his winning smile on Lisa. “Good.” I was flashed something less charming. “The one I was about to tell you about. At Rich’s. On Saturday.”

  I frowned at him, ignoring Lisa’s look of desperation that I suspected (read: hoped) was exaggerated to my eyes.

  “I’ve got better things to do on a Saturday that watch you hook up with yet another string of idiots,” I told him.

  Wade smirked. “Then don’t look.”

  If only it were that simple. But, if I didn’t keep tabs on where he was at a party, then how was I supposed to turn Lisa around at the ri
ght time to prevent the light leaving her eyes as he crushed her heart yet again with his hands or lips all over another girl?

  “Shall I keep my eyes closed all night?” I asked him.

  He shrugged, full of nonchalant, cocky conceit. “Whatever floats your boat, Lincoln.”

  “Thanks. I’ll pass.”

  Lisa elbowed me. “We’ll be there,” she said again.

  Wade nodded, giving her one of his most charming smiles. The one that made you feel like the only person in the world he’d ever given it to. The one that warmed you up and make you feel a thousand feet tall and totally indestructible.

  “Most excellent,” he told her.

  I rolled my eyes. “Sure. Party on, Wayne,” I muttered, returning his retro quote with another.

  “Party on, Garth,” he said, throwing me a cheeky wink.

  I rolled my eyes again. “Lis, I need iced coffee.”

  This time it was me plucking at her sleeve as she just stared at him all moony-eyed. I honestly felt somewhat embarrassed for her. Not by her, rarely by her. But for her. Here was a guy not worth a single second of her time after the way he’d treated her, and she still wanted to give him all of it.

  If it was so true that the heart wanted what the heart wanted, why was it fair that it could just stop wanting it? Wade. My parents. It seemed like the heart was a frivolous creature who was more than happy to get swept up in the moment. When it suited it. Then, once it was done, it just walked away without a second glance.

  How was that fair?

  “Come on,” Lisa said, nudging me as we walked away from Wade. By her tone, I knew she wasn’t referring to the act of following her.

  “Come on, what?” I asked her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I told you, nothing’s wrong.”

  “There has to be something wrong. You were barely mean to Wade at all.”

  I threw a look back over my shoulder, but of course he wasn’t just standing in the corridor watching us walk away all forlorn to see us go.

  I shrugged. “I told you, I just didn’t sleep well.”

  Lisa looked at me and I knew what was coming up.

  “Can you feel it?” she sang. “Now it’s coming back, we can steal it…”

  People were looking at us. It wasn’t at all strange that she was singing in the corridor. Lisa McGinty had been the most avid fan of the school’s Drama department since she was in Reception. Once she’d found out that there was a space outside a Disney movie where it was normal to burst into song sporadically, she’d found her place in the world. These days, with a regular outlet for her creativity, she burst randomly into song a little less, but like three times a week less.

  “So, say Geronimo, say Geronimo!”

  Lisa twirled around the corridor as she sang and I couldn’t help but smile. I couldn’t even stop myself laughing.

  The introvert in me didn’t care she was drawing attention to her and, by association, me. It didn’t care kids were filming her and applauding and singing along. All I saw was my best friend trying to cheer me up the best way she knew how.

  Chapter Four

  I had no doubt that parties at our school were much the same as any other South Australian school.

  Kids milled about the house while loud music played and parents stayed firmly in another room except for the occasional purposeful appearance to remind us we weren’t actually completely left to our own devices. Drinks were provided on the (correct) assumption that those of us who were already eighteen and legal would just bring it anyway, and beer and pre-mix was hopefully less detrimental than full bottles of spirits (which were confiscated at the door at every opportunity).

  Lisa and I weaved our way through people and furniture, on the lookout for Erin or, to be honest, anyone we felt like talking to at the time. I told myself I wasn’t keeping one eye out for Wade and his shenanigans, but it was far too early in the night to already be lying to myself.

  “Looking for your date?” I teased.

  “Nah,” Lisa said. “Hollard wasn’t exactly a bust, but…”

  “He didn’t exactly put out?” I suggested.

  Lisa grinned at me. “Who’d’a thought he’d be a gentleman?”

  “So, we aiming to break through those gentlemanly defences tonight?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t see him yet, though.”

  I didn’t either. The house was packed and I was sure I didn’t recognise a bunch of people there. It had been a while since Lisa and I had been to the kind of party Wade went to. And the kinds of parties Wade went to these days were a lot different than before he dumped Lisa. I guessed the kinds of parties we went to these days were different, too. We had all got nearly two years older.

  “What about your night?” she asked me. “How were the movies?”

  I nodded to myself. “Fine.”

  “Tacos or burritos this month?”

  “Tacos.”

  “Two months in a row?”

  Of course she’d remember what we’d had at last month’s movie night. I hadn’t, which was why I’d said it. We’d not once in my – admittedly poor – memory had the same thing two months in a row. Question remained: was she going to pick up I was lying because of the slip up?

  “Yep,” I said. “Guess Dad’s been busy with work.”

  Or, busy with avoiding Mum. Same difference.

  You didn’t actually have movie night, you idiot, I reminded myself.

  Not that Dad hadn’t been avoiding Mum, or vice versa. The only time the two of them had been in the same room the past week was for dinner or passing each other at breakfast. I didn’t know why I hadn’t noticed before. I guess I’d just assumed they were busy. Or I’d been so wrapped up in my own life I hadn’t noticed theirs had changed at all.

  “There you are!” Erin called out and we made our way towards her.

  “How are we?” Lisa asked.

  She nodded. “Fine. Fine. Footloose and fancy free.”

  “Ugh,” Lisa sighed. “Don’t tell me your date was also a bust?”

  Erin grimaced. “It wasn’t great.”

  “Did he leave you hanging?” Lisa asked.

  Erin snorted. “No. If anything, I left him hanging.”

  “So, why is that so bad?” I asked her.

  It was, in my opinion, no bad thing to go on a date and…just have a date. There were no rules that said anyone was obliged to put out anything even as innocent as holding hands. That didn’t make a bad date. And screw his thoughts on the matter. No, there was no reason I could think of that made that a bad date.

  “He was so handsy,” Erin explained with another grimace.

  Except that. That would definitely make it a bad date.

  “Ew,” Lisa said.

  I nodded. “‘Nuff said.”

  Erin nodded as well. “Right? No one needs that.”

  “So, what do three single gals plan on doing tonight then?” Lisa asked.

  “First things, first. I’m getting a beer,” I said, heading in a direction I hoped would take me to the beer.

  “Eskies out on the back veranda,” some random passing person said, presumably in response to my lost look.

  I nodded to them. “Thank you, random citizen.”

  He grinned at me and gave a little salute before heading off into the crowd.

  Lisa and Erin followed me outside to the eskies where we had a look at the offerings.

  “Oh, Red Bears,” Lisa said happily, reaching down to get one.

  “Oh, me too!” Erin said.

  I smirked and went hunting for beer. TEDs were the best thing on offer so I grabbed one of those. As we went back inside, we opened our drinks and looked around once more.

  “Those are Saint Pat’s boys,” Erin noticed.

  “And I know those girls come from Richmond,” Lisa added.

  “Good mix,” I noted.

  “Could be worse. I heard the
Lefevre twins were supposed to be here somewhere.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Bloody Lefevre twins.”

  Rumour was that Wade had dumped Lisa for one of them. There’d been no confirmation or denial to date. People said he broke up with Lisa for someone and Tia Lefevre had been the next girl with Wade’s tongue down her throat. That we knew about.

  Since then, the three of us weren’t all that keen on the Lefevre twins. For starters, they were from our rival school. That already put them in the bad books, because that’s just how it was. Secondly, Bec Lefevre was a prat. She took nice boys we had a tendency to crush on, strung them along, broke their hearts, and made them useless for the rest of us. We thought Bec was bad? She was considered the less hot of the two identical twins, and Tia’s reputation was worse.

  “Just ignore them,” Lisa said.

  It had been her mantra whenever we ended up in the same place. Usually, it was the sports’ field. Maybe a school disco. Very rarely did we go to the sort of parties or places that we saw them regularly.

  “There you go,” I said.

  “What?” Erin and Lisa asked.

  “A very good reason not to come to the next party Wade ‘invites’ us to,” I told them, making use of my air quotes.

  “What is?” Lisa asked like there couldn’t possibly be any reason as to why we should decline future party invitations from Wade.

  “We wouldn’t have to see the Lefevres.”

  Erin nodded in agreement.

  Lisa was less enthusiastic. “We can just pretend they’re not here.”

  I took a large gulp of my beer in lieu of saying something inadvisable. I couldn’t just go and tell Lisa the person we should be ignoring was Wade. I wasn’t going to push anything on her that she clearly wasn’t ready for. Hopefully we wouldn’t be moving into the old folks’ home and still not talking about how not over Wade she was.

  But we did manage to pretend the Lefevres weren’t there for the most part.

  My lack of inclination to dance meant that Lisa and Erin were somewhat forced to keep coming back to me at the side of the room to talk to me. It wasn’t an unusual set up for us at a party. I was an introvert by nature – and a SOILED one at that – and while I was quite happy to be out in public now and then, I was the ‘stand in the corner with a drink and people watch’ type.