by Cath Crowley
37
JANE
Faltrain looks like she’s lost her best friend when she walks in on Sunday. I guess that’s because she has. Flemming is important to her and now she feels guilty because she can’t bring herself to visit him. Seeing her miss him gets me thinking that I don’t want to lose Corelli.
‘I’ve thought a lot about this,’ I say to him when I call. ‘And I’m not the sort of person to ditch a friend because I’m embarrassed. Forget our fight. I’m cool about Francesca, okay?’
‘Okay, but . . .’
‘You don’t need to say anything else. See you tomorrow for the presentation.’
The unfortunate thing about my conversation with Corelli is that I’ve reminded myself about the History oral that’s looming up like a monster. I’ve been trying not to think about it all weekend. Generally speaking I don’t have a fear of the public. I can handle them in toilets, elevators, restaurants and movies. I don’t mind speaking either. I make a policy to do it every day. But put those two words together and it scares me out of my mind. In the words of Faltrain, ‘I’d rather be pushed off a cliff than speak in public.’
‘When it comes to presentations there’s one important thing to remember,’ Kally says this morning. ‘No one’s even listening to you. They’re thinking about what they’re going to eat for lunch and who they want to kiss.’
‘Apart from Mrs Young,’ Faltrain says. ‘She listens like a . . . listening animal.’
‘Like a rabbit.’ Alyce helps her out. ‘Or a dolphin.’
‘Can I hire your brain for the mid-year exams?’ Faltrain asks.
‘Forget the teacher,’ Kally says. ‘Nine times out of ten these things go off exactly as planned. Just follow your palm cards.’
‘I can’t find my palm cards,’ I say to Corelli. ‘I need my cards.’
‘Relax. Here, I’ve got them. I thought you were good at public speaking.’
‘Everyone thinks that because I’m laid-back and sarcastic. But I hate it. I’m so scared I completely zone out while I’m talking. I don’t even remember what I read. I once gave a talk in politics on every Prime Minister since federation. I had all my dates right and I still had no recollection of it afterwards. That’s why the palm cards are very important. Everything on them is carefully planned so I don’t need to think.’
He snatches them off me. ‘Don’t use them. You’ll be fine.’
‘Are you crazy? That’s like disconnecting a diver’s oxygen twenty metres below the water and telling them they’re okay because really, they’re a mermaid. I won’t be fine.’ I snatch them back. ‘We’re ready, Mrs Young,’ I say. Let’s get this over and done with.
CORELLI
Okay, so romance isn’t dead. But maybe I am.
JANE
‘And so to end with a quote from Robespierre, “I’ve thought about it and I want you to be my girlfriend. I don’t want to go out with Francesca anymore.”’ It takes me a second to actually hear what I’ve said. I look at the class. ‘He told that to Marie Antoinette but she said no so they killed her.’ Corelli laughs. The class takes notes.
‘Very good on the whole,’ Mrs Young says. ‘No one write that last quote in the exam. There are better ones to illustrate the point.’ I don’t know, Mrs Young; I think that quote pretty much says it all.
Corelli and I walk to the far side of the school boundary at recess. ‘I’ve broken up with Fran. I should have told you about her, but we were having such a good time. I didn’t want to spoil it.’ He unwraps some almond biscuits and hands me one. ‘You like me for more than my cooking, right?’
For once, I’m at a loss for a snappy comeback. ‘Yes, Corelli. I like you for more than your cooking. I don’t know if I’ll stay, though. I might, but I haven’t decided.’
‘It’s okay. I want to hang out with you anyway.’
‘You’re going to kiss me now, aren’t you?’
‘Not if you keep looking at me like you’re Cat Woman,’ he says, and stands up.
‘You’re not going to kiss me?’
‘The bell’s about to go; that’s too much pressure. And I need a mint.’
‘You’ve been waiting thirteen years to kiss me and there wasn’t time to have a mint?’
‘I’m not rushing. You can’t make me. Not all guys are ready to kiss girls in a second.’
‘Well, when do you think you’ll be ready?’
‘You’ll have to be patient.’ I hate gender stereotypes as much as the next girl, but come on. Is he serious?
38
GRACIE
Mrs Young walks over to me at the start of English. What she says is, ‘Principal Yoosta would like to see you, Gracie.’ What I hear is, ‘You’ve stuffed up again.’ I just don’t know how.
‘Come in and sit down.’ He folds his hands. ‘I had a call from Andrew Flemming’s parents this morning.’ For a second I imagine Flemming dead and me feeling guilty at his funeral.
‘He’s okay, right?’
‘He admitted to being the one who circulated the English answers. He also admitted to storing the test without permission in your locker, which he claims is mostly empty anyway.’
‘I like to keep my books close, in my bag.’
‘I’m sure that’s true.’ He unfolds his hands. ‘Protecting Mr Flemming was foolish, Gracie. The boy is clearly not your friend.’
No kidding, I think. Ten points for keeping up with the narrative.
‘But in the light of this development I’ve spoken to your school coach. You’re back on the team and released from Friday detention. Although, Mrs Young would like me to pass on that she is happy to continue tutoring you in that time slot.’
‘Thank you,’ I say. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
‘So, are you going to see Andrew now?’ Alyce asks.
‘He only confessed because he’d lost soccer, anyway. I bet he’s trying to get kicked out of school because his parents won’t let him quit.’
‘You don’t really think that?’
‘I think if he hadn’t lost his chance he would never have come forward.’
‘He had too much to lose,’ she says.
‘Yeah, well,’ I say. ‘So did I.’
39
ALYCE
Hi, Mrs Flemming, is Andrew there?
MRS FLEMMING
I’m sorry, dear; he can’t come to the phone right now. He says he’ll call you after Oprah.
ALYCE
Hi, Mrs Flemming, it’s Alyce again. Andrew didn’t call me back. Can I talk to him?
MRS FLEMMING
He says to call after The Bold and the Beautiful, dear.
ALYCE
Hello, Mrs Flemming. It’s Alyce Fuller. Can I speak to Andrew?
FLEMMING
Tell her I’m washing my hair.
ALYCE
‘It’s just me again, Mrs Flemming.’
‘I’m sorry, dear. I don’t think he’d come to the phone even if I told him you were Oprah. Give him a bit of time. He has the operation this Friday. He’ll be back at school three weeks after that.’
‘Can you tell him I called to see if he was okay?’
‘I will, Alyce.’
It’s a silly question. Of course he’s not okay. There’s just nothing that anyone can do about it.
40
MARTIN
I visit Flemming tonight. His mum says he’s not up for visitors but I talk her into it. She’s known me for thirteen years so I play the old-friend card. I wasn’t planning on going but Alyce called me. I can’t say no to her.
Flemming acts like he wants to punch me. I dodge his eyes and walk around; looking at all the things we’ve won playing soccer over the years. His room smells of leather and dirt and sweaty shoes. ‘Mind if I open a window?’
‘Go ahead.’
I stare into his backyard. Flemming’s dad used to play kick-to-kick with us out there. One afternoon he spun the ball over the fence and smashed the neighbour’s window. ‘Go inside,’ he
said, before he walked next door. We followed and watched, though, laughing at this old lady in her curlers yelling at him.
‘Get out,’ Flemming says.
‘What?’
‘I don’t need you feeling sorry for me.’ He always talks like this when he’s angry: quick jabs that force you into a corner. He keeps going till you hit back.
‘Andrew?’ His mum puts her head into the room. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Everything’s fine. Knight’s leaving.’
‘I came because we’re mates.’
‘You’ve been pretty quiet for a mate. I’ve been calling for weeks.’
His mum’s eyes are on her son’s hands, all knuckles, now. ‘I think you should leave, Martin.’
Flemming looks like he’s made it one metre from the end of a marathon and someone’s stepped out and said, ‘Sorry, mate. Road closed.’ It’s not like he can take another path to get to the end. He’s bricked in on all sides.
‘Call if you need me.’
‘Sure,’ Flemming says. ‘Because that worked so well before.’
‘Flemming’s out for the season,’ I say to Annabelle. ‘He’ll miss selection.’
‘He’s got Friday detentions for a month when he gets back to school,’ she says. ‘He owned up to cheating. Gracie’s off the hook.’
‘I can’t believe she took the fall for him.’
‘She’s loyal.’
‘That’s weird, coming from you.’
‘Okay, loyal like a pit bull. I’m not saying I want to be her best friend. But Kally wouldn’t have time for her if she wasn’t okay. Neither would you. She was your closest friend, Martin. You have to tell her about us soon. It’s going to hurt if she finds out some other way.’
‘I don’t even see her anymore.’
She shakes her head. ‘You can’t cut someone out because they’re not who you want them to be.’
A part of me knows that, but the bigger part of me doesn’t care. Last year things were so hard I didn’t think I’d make it – with Faltrain lying to me about Mum. Things are easy now. Things are good.
‘What are you thinking?’ Annabelle asks.
‘I’m thinking that I’m happy where I am. Right now.’
41
GRACIE
Kally’s taking Flemming’s place as centre forward on the school team now and I’m back in my old position. I like having another girl on the side. There’s someone to make jokes with. ‘Francavilla keeps staring at you,’ I said, at the last practice session.
‘I noticed.’
‘I was serious when I said he’s a Wookie.’
‘Won’t be an issue after the practice match, will it? He’ll be smooth and shiny. Just like new.’ And she gave him a little wave.
There’s no waving at the guys across the field at training Friday afternoon. ‘I don’t think I’m ready for this,’ Char says. Dan’s brought the toughest players he could find just like I wanted. ‘Give me guys who’ll play like Truck did last year,’ I told him.
‘Okay, does anyone else feel like they’ve wandered onto the set of Jurassic Park?’ Kally asks.
‘You are ready for this,’ I say. ‘And if you’re not, it’s time you got ready. Char, Esther and Natalie, you’re strikers. Brianne, Beth and Rachel, you’re in defence. Joanna, you’re goalie. Alex and Sophia, you’re with Kally and me in the midfield. Remember: they’re rougher, you’re faster. Protect your chest at all times, trust me on that one. Trust your instinct on everything else.’
I walk across to the guys. ‘Play like you need to win. But if any of you go for the boobs, I’ll kick you in the balls.’
‘Does anyone else hear the Charlie’s Angels theme music?’ one of them asks as I signal to the girls, and one by one they walk onto the field.
‘Okay, that hurt,’ Char says. ‘We scored one goal to their five.’
‘They break the rules,’ Esther says.
‘They play close to the edge but they wouldn’t have got carded for anything they did this afternoon,’ I say. ‘So do you want to call off the bet?’
They look at each other. They look at me.
‘I want to train harder,’ Esther says. And everyone there nods.
It’s dark when Dan pulls up to Kally and Annabelle’s house. I see the shadows of two people sitting on her step. One is definitely Annabelle. My heart bicycle-kicks at the shape of the other. ‘Is that Martin?’
‘Why would it be Martin?’ Kally asks. ‘Get a good night’s sleep before tomorrow. I need you watching my back out there.’ She looks nervous when she mentions the school game.
‘I’ve got your back,’ I say. ‘You don’t need to worry.’
‘And I’ve got yours.’
After she’s gone inside, Dan drives me home. ‘I’m glad you and Kally are my friends. All this stuff with Flemming, how he lied to save himself, it hurts.’
‘Yeah, I know. He’s an idiot.’ Dan can’t make things better. But it helps to have someone here to hold my hand. That’s why what I say next surprises me. As soon as the words leave my mouth, though, I know I’m right.
‘I can’t hang out with you so much anymore. I have to study for the mid-year exams and I have to focus on the state trials. I have to get my head in the game.’
‘Are you breaking up with me?’
‘No. Absolutely, one hundred per cent, no. But I can’t study with you anymore and I can only go for dates on Friday nights. Are you mad?’
‘Nah. I like that you think I’m too cool to concentrate around. You still want a lift to your school game tomorrow, though, right?’
‘Yeah. And the trials Sunday. I don’t think you’re too cool to drive me places.’ He laughs. And for a while the world stays where it should: rushing past the outside of his car.
42
ALYCE
I try to call Andrew again before I start at the neighbourhood house this afternoon. He’s watching The Bold and the Beautiful so unless my name is Brooke, I don’t think I’ll have a chance of talking to him. I hope Martin had more luck.
‘Foster’s in trouble at school, again,’ Janet says.
I look at him throwing chips at David’s head. ‘He reminds me of someone,’ I say, and walk across to them with my Monopoly board. ‘Who wants to play?’
‘I own the board,’ Foster says after an hour.
‘You’re good,’ I tell him. ‘So, why does a smart person get into trouble at school?’
‘Not everyone can be a nerd.’
‘I’ve been in trouble before.’ I roll the dice. ‘I got sent home from camp this year.’ He looks at me as though I’m lying so I tell him the story. I tell it Gracie-style, with a few chainsaw-wielding men thrown in to make it more interesting.
‘Remember that time we went on camp?’ Foster asks David. ‘Mr Cliff made you stand in the corridor even though it was freezing.’
‘You were the one who was talking.’
‘Yeah, but I wasn’t stupid enough to get caught.’
‘Alyce,’ Janet says. ‘That was Roberta on the phone. She needs someone to stop by her unit. She has a mouse. Would you help her?’
‘I want to see Alyce kill the mouse,’ Foster says.
‘I wouldn’t mind seeing that.’ Tracy closes her book.
‘Actually, it might not be a bad idea to take them. You could walk Foster home after you finish, he’s not far from there. Hang on; let me call his mum.’ She’s back in a minute. ‘All okay.’ Foster claps like I’m about to take him to the zoo.
‘So do you know how to trap a mouse?’ I ask him on the way.
‘No problems. Don’t be such a girl, Alyce.’
‘You know, patterns of behaviour aren’t always gender based.’
‘What?’
‘Girls can do anything that boys can do but they’ve been told they can’t.’
‘Not everything,’ Tracy says.
‘Yeah. Girls don’t play AFL or rugby or cricket.’ Foster kicks at stones on the path as he talks.
‘Yes they do,’ I say.
‘Not in the real league. You never see them on the telly.’
‘The best soccer player I know is a girl and she plays on a boys’ team.’
‘As if,’ Foster says.
‘It’s true. I’ll ask Janet if I can take you to watch her one day.’
Instead of arguing he says, ‘Really?’ in a way that makes me glad I asked. ‘Really. This is Roberta’s unit.’ I knock on the door and while we wait I take a chance. I look Tracy in her perfectly lined eyes. ‘You could come too.’
‘Maybe,’ she says, as Roberta opens the door a crack to check who’s there.
‘It stinks in here,’ Foster says, covering his mouth with his sleeve. They all walk outside and leave me with the smell.
‘I thought you were the best at catching mice,’ I call to Foster.
‘Yeah, but live ones. Not dead ones that smell like that.’
Who’s braver now, I think as I walk into Roberta’s kitchen. I tie one of her scarves around my nose and mouth and slide on some rubber gloves. I’m not scared of a mouse. ‘Hey,’ Tracy says, and I stifle a scream.
‘Relax. I thought I’d help. Nice outfit. You got one for me?’ She puts it on and we keep searching. ‘They always die in the kitchen,’ she says, opening a cupboard. ‘Clear.’
I check under the fridge. ‘Clear.’
We find it in the end, lying flat on its back near a half-eaten chocolate biscuit. ‘At least he died happy,’ Tracy says.
‘Do we flush it down the toilet?’
‘Sure. If you want Roberta to call you next week to fix her backed-up sewage. You flush fish. Mice you burn or bury.’ We look at it. ‘Strictly speaking, you’re the one on the clock here. I’m not a volunteer.’