by J. C. Burke
'Your skin.' My mother had choked when she'd seen them. She'd run her cool fingertips across my thighs. 'Your skin, Kia. Your beautiful skin.'
There were only three sets of traffic lights between our place and the railway station but we got a red on every single one. Dad huffed and thumped the steering wheel each time.
'Chill, Dad.'
'I really don't want Micki to be waiting there on her own! I forgot to ask if she was just bringing her camp stuff or everything else too.'
'Isn't she going home for a few days after camp?'
'I guess that depends on how things go while she's away.'
'You mean how he goes,' I snapped. 'You always protect him.'
Dad zoomed off as the light went green.
'Hey, speed demon!'
Suddenly Dad started chuckling. 'Oh Kia, the day's here, hey? The Starfish Sisters are going to be together again. You must be happy about that?'
Dad had been rocked by what I'd done. Of course, Mum had too but maybe she'd handled it better 'cause she was a nurse.
There were times – not doing anything special, just normal stuff like eating breakfast or rinsing off my board after a surf – when I'd catch Dad looking at me. His frown had lots more crinkles and it made me feel so guilty.
I wanted to tell him that I was okay, that I was getting better. That was the truth too. My mouth'd open but then I'd chicken out and pretend he'd been looking at me for some other reason and I'd do something lame like smile.
Besides, my dad was an action man. His big motto was 'Actions speak louder than words'. The way he dropped everything to look after Davo and Micki showed that he lived by it too. So I knew that's what I had to do. I had to show Dad that I was getting better. That I was a 'normal', regular person.
We parked the car, just as Micki's train came around the bend and into view.
'Just made it,' Dad said, taking off his seatbelt, putting up the window and opening the car door, all at the same time.
'Dad,' I laughed. 'Relax.'
'Don't be ridiculous! I am perfectly relaxed,' he said, almost tripping up the first stair to the platform. 'I just want to get there before she gets off.'
'It's not the prime minister,' I muttered, jogging behind, trying to keep up with him the way I had to when I was a little girl. And yet I understood why he was doing this. I felt the same too.
The first thing to appear out the train door was a surfboard, then a giant bag and finally, Micki.
Luckily Dad grabbed the surfboard 'cause Micki just about threw herself at me. We hugged and squealed and danced around in a little circle before I actually registered her face, properly that is.
Micki was crying. I'd seen her cry before, on the last day of camp, but this was different crying. It wasn't very loud. It wasn't all sniffs like Ace did. It definitely wasn't hiccuping, spluttering, snorting sobs like Georgie was prone to.
I'd call it something like 'shy' crying, if there was such a thing. That's what it was like, shy. It was almost as though Micki was too embarrassed to lift up her face.
ACE
I hadn't even stepped through the front door of Kia's house when suddenly Georgie was grabbing me around the waist and lifting me up while Kia was trying to jump on Georgie's shoulders like a little terrier dog. Micki was standing there with the biggest grin on her face, saying, 'Ace, Ace,' and all I could do was wrap my hands over my head so that my hat didn't fall off.
'I can't believe you're here!' Georgie gave me another one of her rib-crushing bear hugs. 'I can't believe we're all here together.'
'The Starfish Sisters!' Kia squealed, doing a violent jigging dance around us that had me hanging on to my hat even tighter. 'What'll we do first?'
'I'm kind of hungry,' I said, which I wasn't, but I really needed Kia to settle down.
'Okay, let's make some toasted sandwiches,' she suggested. 'After that we'll go down to the beach 'cause Kent someone, can't remember his last name, wants to take our photos for the local paper. But Georgie's going to tell him that we're, like, all from camp so that he can take all our photos and the four of us will be together in the newspaper. How cool will – '
'I don't want my photo taken!' I blurted.
Kia answered with one of her wounded puppy dog looks then went to the fridge and started taking out bread, cheese, margarine, the whole time singing that line 'Everything's fine' from the Veronicas' 'Mother Mother' song. Not a good sign. Maybe Kia was about to have one of her private psycho moments.
I caught Georgie's eye and mouthed while pointing to my hat, 'I can't have my photo taken.'
Georgie shrugged and started taking the bread and cheese out of Kia's arms.
This was maybe not the greatest start to the weekend. In fact, Just shoot me, please, is what I was dreaming about now.
Regroup, Ace! I told myself as I studied a photo board on the wall in Kia's kitchen. There were a few pictures of us holding up the tag team trophy; some cute ones of Charlie wearing a Dorothy the Dinosaur tail; and, let's say, a bit of a pictorial journey showing Kia making the training team. Like, one of her jumping up when her name was called, a separate one for each stair she took up to the stage and hmm, approximately five to six of her hugging Jake and waving out to the audience.
In the very corner of one, you could just see my face. I was staring at the ground, frowning.
I'd wished for someone to please shoot me – well, bang! The bullet just hit me, right between the eyes.
I took a deep breath and said in the most enthusiastic voice I could manage for someone so badly wounded, 'Kia, tell me about Seahorse Girl!' I switched on a big toothy smile and slowly turned back to face everyone. 'I can't wait to see the photos. When are they coming out? Which magazines?'
'I just finished a shoot for next winter's Seahorse Girl catalogue. I didn't realise they plan so far in advance. There's an ad, I'm talking a whole page of me, just me, tearing up this beautiful left at Wategos. That's where we did the shoot.' Kia's smile was just about to beam right off her face as she chatted and buttered the sandwiches. Seahorse Girl was quite a good sponsor, for a product sponsor that is. I was happy for her. Really.
'That photo,' Kia continued, 'is coming out in the September ads in Tracks, Curl and um . . . um . . . Georgie, I forgot the other one.'
'I think you're talking about Girlfriend.' Georgie gave me a private smirk and mouthed, 'She really forgot.'
'Yeah, Girlfriend and maybe Dolly too. I'm not sure yet.'
'Great.' My toothy smile was still flashing. 'And how good was it, you managing to convince them to make you their exclusive wetsuit girl.'
Suddenly Kia's head and shoulders disappeared below the benchtop.
'Yeah.' Her voice drifted upwards. 'Yeah. Lucky.'
You know that feeling you get when you realise you've just said the wrong thing? Well, that was the exact feeling I had now. Georgie was dead quiet. She was pretending she was concentrating on the sandwich toaster but her face was tomato red. When Kia emerged with an armful of plates that smile had beamed right off her face and into the stratosphere.
'Hey, where's Micki?' I think I only just noticed she wasn't in the kitchen and it was a good change of topic.
'She's in the garage talking to my dad,' Kia replied.
'How's her dad?' I wanted them to know I'd remembered that he'd been in hospital. I was caring and a good friend too. 'Is he all better now?'
'Yeah,' Kia answered.
'She looks tired, Micki, don't you think?' I said.
Kia shrugged. 'I'm just going to tell her lunch is ready.'
When Kia walked out of the kitchen my insides were just about to heave with relief when Georgie barked and they jumped back to attention.
'Why did you say that to Kia about the wetsuits!'
'Well, why can't I?' I snapped back. 'We all know about what she used to do. It's not like we all of a sudden can't talk about it.'
The steam from the sandwich toaster sizzled as Georgie squashed down the last sandwich.
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'You're being weird, Ace.'
'I'm not being weird. It's just been a bit, a bit – awkward, don't you think?'
'You're the one making it awkward!'
'Look, I don't – want – a photo taken, okay? Is that a crime?' I was whispering. 'They might make me take my hat off, you know, so you can see my face.'
'Doubt it,' Georgie scoffed. 'Not when your hat's got Kelly Slater's signature scrawled across the front of it.'
'Trust me, those photographers always want to see my face!' I answered, my whispering suddenly escalating to a squeak. 'Look, Georgie, I'm going to say something like it's against my OP contract to have my photo taken by other people. Okay?'
'Ace?' Georgie was looking at me like I was from another planet.
'What!'
'What do you do when you go surfing?'
'I wear a bloody hat!'
'Like one of those . . .?'
'Yes! One of those disgusting old grandpa lycra numbers,' I spluttered. 'Bet you want to be me, hey?'
I hadn't bargained on having to wear a hat in the surf, until one day a bit of my scalp got burnt. It was only the size of a fifty-cent piece, but it was agony. All the skin peeled off, making me look like I had some toxic case of dandruff. Every time I rubbed cream into it, my fingers came off with a billion hairs stuck to them, which was worse as I needed those hairs to stay on my head!
The list I could write of the bad things about losing your hair – or alopecia as the doctor called it – could justify destroying every tree in Australia. That's how much paper it would take up. But the worst part of it was that it'd forced me to cancel two weekends with Jules. Let alone stopped me arranging any more.
The first weekend I didn't actually cancel. We had the first day together but everywhere I turned I saw long blonde strands of hair. Everywhere! Except on my head. They were on my clothes, the pillows, towels, the car, the couch; they were even on Jules!
It was too much. I couldn't do it anymore, so I pretended I was sick.
It was devastating! We hadn't seen each other since he'd come up to stay the weekend camp finished. Strangely, that was one of the best weekends of my life. Even though I was so unbelievably ripped to pieces about not making the team, him being there somehow made it easier.
I had almost put him off that weekend too 'cause I'd felt so humiliated that I didn't know if I could face him. But then he'd turned up at camp in Carla's office with his bags packed just like we'd arranged and I did the exact thing I never ever thought I'd do. I put my arms around him and burst into tears.
What he said to me in the next second had played over and over in my head, till I wanted to scream and shout, 'I can't! I'm not as good as you!'
Jules said to me, 'This will make you stronger, Ace.'
Stronger? I didn't think so.
My hair was falling out. I didn't know if my OP sponsorship was about to end and more than anything, I desperately wanted to have a good – no, a great – time this weekend. I wanted to be with Kia and Micki and Georgie; to laugh and surf and talk and have all that fun I could have only with those three. But I wasn't strong enough. I just didn't have it in me.
Sometimes it felt like my heart had shrunk to the size of a pea. But then how could anything that tiny hurt so much?
MICKI
My jaw was starting to ache I'd been smiling so much. But I was happy to live with that pain for the rest of my life.
'I pigged out on that green curry.' Ace was making noises that defied the supermodel's body sprawled across Kia's bed. 'Oooh, why didn't one of you stop me?'
'Because you would've slapped us,' Georgie replied. 'You reminded me of myself.'
'That's baaaad,' moaned Ace.
'Gee, thanks for the compliment.'
'Ace, I can't believe you've taken my bed,' Kia said, as she puffed up the pillows and got comfy on the sofa bed. 'I don't give up my bed for anyone, do I, Georgie?'
'It's your lucky day, sweetheart.' Georgie wiggled her hips and jiggled her boobs till you could almost feel the room rocking. 'Now move over, Kia, you get me all to yourself tonight. There are people who'd slit their grandmother's throat for this opportunity!'
'Yeah, like name me one,' answered Kia. 'You're fifteen and you've had how many boyfriends?'
'Ha ha,' Georgie replied, squeezing into the sofa bed next to Kia and starting back on the Vitamin C 'Friends Forever' song that she'd been singing all night. It was to annoy Ace 'cause Ace'd said she'd been singing it all week and had only just got it out of her head. 'All those times –'
'Shut up!' Kia was trying to stuff the pillow over Georgie's face. 'Now I'm going to have that song stuck in my head.'
'It's our song!' Georgie mumbled against the pillow. 'Friends for–'
'Oh, shut up, you two! You're making my tummy ache worse,' Ace moaned. 'Bedtime at the Starfish Bungalow with Kia and Georgie. I'd forgotten about that.'
Maybe Ace could forget about those times but I couldn't afford to. I'd worked so hard on keeping that stuff alive in my mind. But there were some nights when I was so tired I struggled to see the little details of our bungalow – the mound of dirty clothes next to Ace's bed, the starfish tiles on the bathroom wall or our three toothbrushes, plus Ace's electric one, sitting on the left-hand side of the basin.
Not being able to picture those things brought back that feeling like I couldn't breathe or swallow. Just when I'd feel like I was about to suffocate and black out, those little details would appear in my head. All of a sudden I could see them so clearly, as if I was actually there, and gradually my throat would uncurl and I'd start to breathe.
Now, in Kia's bedroom, I didn't have to struggle to see or hear that stuff 'cause it was all here, in real life. I snuggled inside the sleeping bag and their chatting and giggling was like a lullaby. My body felt deliciously heavy like I was sinking further and further into the blow-up mattress.
I was sooo tired but I didn't want to let myself fall sleep. No way. What a waste of time. I wanted to join in 'cause that's what I'd do if we were in the Starfish Bungalow. Then after they crashed, I'd get out my diary and record every fantastic minute of this day. All those blank pages that I hadn't been able to put a pen to didn't seem to matter now. When I was away from home and with the girls I could almost convince myself that my real life never existed. Almost.
My head was chock-a-block with stuff to remember about today. Just describing our afternoon would take a few pages.
We were hanging out at a juice bar when the reporter from the local paper called Kia to say he had to put us off until tomorrow morning 'cause his camera was busted.
'Yes!' Ace cheered. But Kia looked disappointed.
'Hey, come on, Kia,' Ace said, wrapping one arm around her and the other around me. 'The surf 's crap. The photographer's camera's broken. I think there's only one thing to do.'
'What?' Kia grunted.
'Go shopping!' Ace gave Kia a wink and then it was like Kia suddenly snapped out of it and started furiously nodding at Georgie and Ace. That was one thing I hadn't thought of, how living with Kia could be like being on a roller-coaster and seesaw all at the one time.
At first, I just assumed it was Ace being girly and shopping crazy. You know, any excuse to shop. So I just followed. I didn't think any more about it until one minute I'm checking out the coolest pair of skinny-leg jeans I had no hope of ever owning, then the next minute the girls are crowding around me squealing and waving an envelope in my face.
'Huh?' I mumbled.
'Open it, Micki!' Kia was jumping up and down. 'Open it!'
I turned the envelope over to see 'Miss Micki' written on it. The air caught in my throat.
'Come on!' Ace laughed.
I went to say something but I couldn't get the sound to come out of my mouth.
'Just open it.' Kia was almost wrestling it out of my hands. 'Open it and you'll see! Come on, hurry up.'
Inside was a voucher, and the most awesome card. If someone asked me to describe the be
st card ever, then this was it, sitting in my hands right now. Hundreds of tiny photos, not much bigger than stamps, covered every square millimetre of it.
Grinning back at me were the best three weeks of my life. There we were, the Starfish Sisters lying on the beds in the bungalow, exercising in the gym, eating meals, wrestling in the pool, waxing our boards – and in every single one of them it was Miss Micki staring back at me.
At last those tiny details were captured forever. It didn't matter how tired or down I felt, all I had to do now was look at this card. But I wouldn't be in my room. I wouldn't be at my house. Dad was going to be alone and –
Kia squeezed my hand. 'Micki, you're shaking.'
It wasn't just my hands. It was my whole body, from the very top to the very bottom and everything in between.
Ace elbowed in and pointed to a photo of her blowing a kiss to the audience. 'This is the best one of the fashion parade. I blew that up for the album I'm giving to Jules. Or rather, you're giving to Jules from me, that is.'
'Ace?' Georgie frowned. 'What has that got to do with anything?'
'The photo album.' Ace answered back like Georgie was a total moron, but their voices seemed a million miles away. 'You know, the one you're taking up to Jules for me.'
'Yes, I know that, Ace! But if you haven't noticed,' Georgie said in a lecturing kind of voice, 'we were in the middle of giving Micki her present. Not talking about you and loverboy.'
'You're just jealous,' Ace teased.
Standing there in the coolest shop ever, knee-deep in a pile of skinny-leg jeans with Georgie and Ace arguing about the benefits of having a boyfriend and Kia watching them go back and forth like she was at a tennis match, I burst out laughing. I don't know where it came from. But I laughed really hard and really, really loud. It was the sort of thing Miss Micki would do. Not the other Micki, who in the last twenty-four hours had cried one and a half times, breaking her world record.
