by J. C. Burke
I didn't open it straightaway. It rested on my lap for at least ten – well, two minutes. Then I figured, We tell each other our secrets, so what could be in here that I couldn't read or that I wouldn't know anyway? Let's face it, a thirteen-year-old girl – well, at least one like Micki – wouldn't get up to much.
I ran my thumb along the spine, then wedged it inside a random page and opened Micki's diary. The page was blank. So was the one before and the one after.
Kia's bedroom door was slightly open. I was caught between shutting it for safety or keeping it that way, so I'd hear the girls when they got home.
Closing the door won.
I made the pillows all comfy, shook out the doona and snuggled back into Kia's bed.
I kept flicking back through the pages until I found some writing.
Friday 12 June, AFTER MIDNIGHT. AT KIA'S.
AAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I MADE IT!!!
Hello! It's been a while and you know why so we don't need to go there.
'Who's she talking to?' I said out loud.
I'd never kept a diary. What was the point? It's not like there'd be any shock value in it 'cause it was your life. You'd know it all anyway!
To me it was one of those babyish, tweenie things to do. Like 'Dear diary, had a fight with my mum today' or 'Dear diary, I have a crush on this guy but I'm too scared to say hi.'
Still, I had to remind myself that Micki was heaps younger than us 'cause she was usually the most mature.
This is already the best weekend eva EXCEPT it's gonna be bad when we have to say goodbye to Ace.
The spit caught in my throat.
I want to write positive stuff like I did last time at camp (well mostly) but I'm scared coz I know there's gonna be other things on my mind and they're gonna make me sad. But honestly I couldn't be any sadder than I was back home, so what's the problem, eh???
Dad and I had a BIIIG talk on thurzday night and it's kinda freaked me out. I don't wanna tell u all about it now coz I still can't figure it out in my head let alone write it down. I didn't see it coming and I don't know if thatz whatz freaking me out the most?? Coz shouldn't I be freaked out about leaving Dad and moving in to Kia's?
I read that line again.
Micki was moving in with Kia? Neither of them had said anything.
I feel bad. I feel weird. I feel scared. I feel happy. I feel relieved to be getting away from Dad but then that makes me feel guilty and then it starts all over again.
Kia's really keen!! I feel so close to Kia. Probably because she knows my stuff. Itz probably been the biggest and scariest thing I've eva done telling Kia about Dad. We haven't really talked much about it. But I feel like now I'm ready to tell her stuff. Especially about Mum and what really happened. I feel awkward her not knowing the truth about that. Lies are bad. I hate them.
Georgie's chuckles bounced up the stairs, followed by Kia's 'Shhhh, Mum's asleep.'
Quickly, I slipped the diary inside Micki's sleeping bag, hopped back into bed and pushed the pillow over my face. People with headaches hate the light.
'Ace is asleep,' I heard Micki whisper.
'I'll just get my wallet and a jumper,' Georgie said. 'I am so hanging for hot chips from Pete's.'
'Aaarrrhhhhh.' I wiggled a bit and began to stretch. I was starving. 'You're back,' I mumbled, lifting the pillow off my face. 'What's the time?'
'Time for food,' Georgie replied, slipping on her jumper. 'We thought we'd go down to Pete's milk bar and get some hot chips.'
'Where's Kia?' I yawned.
'Having a hot shower,' answered Micki.
'It got freezing down there,' Georgie said. 'Kent had us posing for over an hour.'
Micki groaned. 'It was embarrassing.'
I watched Micki fold up her sleeping bag. She didn't hesitate. She didn't pull a face. Everything seemed to be fine.
'You're a neat freak, Micki,' Georgie said. 'I don't know why you roll up your sleeping bag every day. You're going to be in it in a few hours.'
I knew why.
'So your head's okay?' Georgie asked me, smirking at her clever double meaning. 'Do you feel all better now?'
'Yep. But is Kia pissed off with me?'
'She's over it. Kent was the one who said you couldn't be in the photos.'
'What was that about?' Micki said. 'That was harsh. I felt bad really bad for you, Ace.'
'Well . . .' I shrugged a bit. 'That's the way it is, I s'pose.'
'Your lips look blue,' Georgie said to Micki. 'You should have a hot shower too.'
'My lips always go blue.'
'Yeah, but you don't want to get sick.'
'Have we got time?'
'Of course we do,' I answered instead of Georgie. 'It's not like we're going anywhere.'
'We're going to Pete's!' Georgie got down and started doing sit-ups. 'This is what I call pre-hot-chip-pig-out training.'
'Go on. Go and have a shower, Micki,' I said.
A moment on my own with Georgie was what I craved. I hadn't had enough of them – well, enough good moments that didn't include her shouting at me. I adored Micki and Kia but it was different with Georgie. We had a soul connection. We could sense what each other was feeling. I had told her all my secrets. Everything. Because after my mum, she was the person I could trust most in the world.
I got on the floor and started crunching with her. The minute Micki was gone, I could tell her about what I'd read.
'Four – five – six,' Georgie and I panted, as Micki got her stuff together. 'Seven – eight – nine,' as Micki walked to the door. 'Eleven – twelve – thirteen,' as she closed the door behind her.
I stopped and grabbed Georgie's arm. 'What?' she said. Up down, up down, she kept going.
'Stop!' I whispered. 'I have to tell you something.'
'What?'
'Did you know that Micki is going to live with Kia?'
'What?' Georgie froze in the upright position.
'Micki is moving in here. To Kia's.'
'To live?'
'Yes!' I nodded. 'So, Kia hasn't said anything to you?'
'No.' Georgie frowned. 'How do you know?'
I wasn't ready to confess. 'There's some big secret about Micki's mum too.'
'But she's dead. Isn't she?'
'Who knows?' I hissed. 'Should we ask Kia?'
'Yeah, but when are we going to get the chance?'
'That's what I was thinking too,' I answered.
'Maybe Micki's dad's sick again?'
'You're going to have to grill Kia at camp, 'cause we're not going to have the opportunity to do it here.'
'But I asked Micki if her dad was better and she said he was. Hmm.' Suddenly Georgie's hands flew to her mouth. 'This morning! Hey, when we came down to brekkie did you notice how everyone stopped talking? It was like –'
I pushed my finger over Georgie's mouth and nodded towards the door handle, which had started to turn.
In walked Kia, with dripping wet hair and still wearing my Kelly Slater hat!
Where I lived, on the Gold Coast, we didn't have only one hot chip shop, we had about ten million to choose from. There were three filthy plastic tables lined up outside Pete's milk bar and inside, the walls were painted a disgusting, sickly orange colour that made me feel like I'd been on a tanning bed too long.
I'd been thinking the best thing about coming to Pete's was that it would be good for bringing on a quick attack of anorexia. Not for Georgie. She was ordering a large hot chips with chicken salt and tomato sauce.
'Are we sharing them?' I asked Georgie, trying not to make skin contact with the counter.
'Nah, they're for me.'
'I'll have . . .' The hormone disaster behind the counter was waiting to take my order. 'Umm . . .?'
What is it about the smell of chips that makes you have to have them? Even if they're being cooked by a guy who looks like he hasn't showered since he was eleven?
'Look, I'll order just a small serve of
hot chips,' I told him. 'Not too much salt.'
When Tim Parker and I were going out I would never eat hot chips – at least, not in front of him. That'd be the perfect excuse for him to look me up and down and say, 'Do you really think that's a good idea, Ace?'
Jules was so different. I'd pigged out on ice-cream, a hamburger, chips and two doughnuts – all in front of him and all in the one weekend. Jules never said a thing. He didn't even notice.
I'm not saying it'd be okay with him if I got fat 'cause it wouldn't. He's a sportsman and he likes his girlfriends to be slim. He said to me once, 'There's nothing sexier than a girl who's fit and strong.'
'I still can't believe what Megan said,' Kia grunted through a mouthful.
'I just can't picture her in the bungalow with us,' added Micki. 'It's going to be so strange this time.'
The four of us sighed. My heart felt like it was sliding down my jumper.
'I mean, what are we going to talk to her about?' Micki said.
'How can we talk?' Kia added. 'Starfish have no brains, remember?'
'So you're saying we're not going to speak to Megan for nearly two whole weeks?' Georgie was pretending to smoke a chip. 'Right. That'll make things interesting.'
'I thought you hated her,' Kia said.
'I don't hate her,' she answered. 'I just don't like her.'
'She's going to be your main competition, Georgie,' I told her.
'Suits me.'
'They won't pick more than two big-wave surfers for the team, will they?' Micki asked.
'Probably not,' Georgie answered. 'That's why I'm going to smash her.' Georgie flattened a chip with her fist. 'I'm going to charge her on every wave.'
'Go Georgie!' I smiled even though my heart hurt as much as Georgie's chip probably did.
'She took your place, Ace. I'm not going to let her forget it.'
'Thanks, Georgie.' We squeezed hands and then my tears started. I hadn't expected them. But then, to be honest, they'd just been hiding, waiting at the back of my eyelids for any opportunity.
'I wish I was going. You just don't know how much I wish it,' I said, sobbing. 'And I feel like I've been a total bitch this weekend but I haven't meant to. I just feel like such a loser. I'm terrified I'm going to lose my OP sponsorship. It's going to really suck if that happens. But –' I sniffed, 'but, I've got all of you, my Starfish Sisters. And Jules, I've got Jules. You four are the most important things. I can get through anything if I have you guys. I don't care if I – if I never see my face in another magazine.'
I was howling now. Me? Ace. Courtney McFarlane, one hundred per cent OP-sponsored surfer and model, was sitting here in Pete's milk bar probably looking like a complete freak. The worst bit, but kind of the best bit too, was that I didn't care.
The walking hormone disaster was coming towards our table with a handful of serviettes. That made me bawl even louder.
Gently, he put them on the table.
'Thanks.' I gulped, dabbing my eyes and nose with one.
He stood there, not moving except for his hands, which were twisting his apron into a ball.
Finally he spoke: 'I've – I've got a poster of you on my bedroom wall. And one inside my cupboard too.'
'Oh?'
'You're prettier in real life.'
'Oh?' I crossed my legs and sat straighter in the chair. Good posture could make you look kilos lighter.
MICKI
Two farewells in three days.
All of us cried when we said goodbye to Ace. Especially Ace. I didn't think she was going to let go of Georgie.
I had never been that good at crying. The problem was that if I started then I mightn't be able to stop. If I let everything bad get to me then I'd be the biggest crybaby in the Southern Hemisphere and I didn't want to be known for that. I wanted to be known for being the greatest female surfer.
In the last few days, though, my tear factory had been working overtime. I'd broken my own record twice. It was just a whole big mishmash of things I couldn't get straight in my head. Once I got to camp and hit the surf and spent time with Kia and Georgie, then I was sure I'd start to feel better. What I really wanted to know was whether I'd feel better enough for Miss Micki to show her face. Yet thinking like that made me feel bad. Wasn't there more important stuff to hope for, like whether Dad would be okay without me?
For ages, Georgie'd been looking out the car window not saying a thing. Actually, the only sound in the back seat was me yawning.
'I can't stop yawning,' I said to her.
'It's 'cause you've been crying,' Georgie answered, still staring at the endless blocks of vacant holiday apartments. 'Apparently, when you cry, your body makes this stuff that makes you sleepy and sort of calm.'
'Mmmm.' I closed my eyes.
'Are you okay, Micki?' Reg asked from the driver's seat. 'No crying when you say goodbye to me in an hour's time.'
'As if,' Kia scoffed. 'We'll be jumping for joy in an hour's time.'
'Will we?' Georgie sighed.
'Hey, girls,' Reg said with a slap of the steering wheel, 'you've got to remember how hard you've all worked to get here. It's a shame, a real shame, that Ace wasn't selected too. But you're in the big time now. That's competitive sport. Ace'll be okay. She's got OP sponsorship.' Reg grinned into the rear-vision mirror. 'That's if she lets Georgie share it with her.'
'Huh?' Kia grunted, turning to face us in the back seat. 'What's . . .?'
The red rushing up Georgie's face almost had her hair on fire.
'Georgie?' I asked.
Reg groaned. 'Have I just put my foot in it?'
'Georgie?' Kia was almost leaning her entire body into the back seat. 'Is that true? Oh my God, it obviously is. Your face has turned into a tomato.'
Georgie took a deep breath and seemed to hold it there for a while. 'Errr,' she growled. 'Awkward.'
'It's just us,' I said. 'You can tell.'
'Your mum told me when we were packing up the car,' Reg explained. 'Why the big secret?'
'I wouldn't do anything – anything behind Ace's back,' Georgie spoke quickly. 'I couldn't – couldn't live with myself. That would just be – just be the worst thing.'
'Ace'll be right.'
'Dad,' Kia chimed in, 'Ace is worried that OP aren't going to extend her contract. She told us that herself.'
'Her contract wouldn't be up for renewal for a couple of years, would it?'
'Try the end of this year, Dad.'
'October actually,' Georgie said.
I'm not sure if my tear-swollen eyes were playing tricks on me, but I swear Georgie was sinking further into the seat as if she was hoping it'd swallow her up.
No wonder. This was not a good situation. Out of the sponsorships to be offered, OP was the best – except if it meant your best friend being dumped in favour of you.
Awkward! Georgie had said it.
'So?' If Kia kept spinning around like that she was going to get whiplash or, worse, lose Ace's Kelly Slater hat out the window. 'Are you going to tell Ace?'
'Kia, I don't have anything to tell her.'
'Yet!'
'The OP guy just left a message. It's not like I'm hiding anything.'
'But what if he says that he's not going to extend Ace's contact and that he wants to sign you up as the new OP girl?'
'Hope you like being public property,' I said.
'Look, nothing's even happened!' Georgie spat.
'They'll obviously keep Ace as their model.' Kia needed to be gagged.
'Yeah, not, not totally dump her,' I added, trying to be helpful to Georgie, who wasn't slumped in the seat anymore. Now she was sitting up so high she must've thought she could disappear through the roof of the car. 'Just not sponsor Ace's surfing as much. So it'd kind of be like you'd both be OP girls! How cool would that be?'
'Wow! I'd be the Seahorse Girl and you two'd be the Ocean Pearl gir–' Reg elbowed Kia and she stopped.
I didn't have a sponsor. I didn't even have a product sponsor. I had
to sell chocolate bars at school to get the money together for my travelling and camp expenses.
But Reg and Jake, my surf instructor from camp, told me to be patient. Luckily for me that was one of my strong points. Plus, I didn't exactly need a surf company doing a story on twenty-four hours in my life!
Carla, our 'camp mum', hugged us like we were daughters returning from an overseas trip. Her shirt smelt clean and fresh like lemons but suddenly it made me want to vomit.
It transported me straight back home and suddenly it was like I was smelling Dad when I'd hugged him goodbye. But he hadn't smelt of lemons. He smelt like cigarettes and stale sweat. His green Hawaiian shirt, which he hadn't changed in days, reeked of BO and bad deodorant.
It didn't matter how many clean tops I put in his drawers, he still seemed to stay in the same one, day after day. The methadone made him sweat, badly. I'd say, 'Dad, you're getting a bit smelly.' And he'd answer, 'Yeah, love, you're probably right. I'll go put a clean shirt on.'
Then straightaway he'd forget.
'Are we in the Starfish Bungalow again?' Kia was asking Carla like she would die if Carla said no. 'Are we? Are we?'
'Yes. Of course you are.'
'Thank you, thank you, thank you,' squealed Kia.
Georgie, who'd been wandering around the empty carpark, came back and very politely enquired if Megan had arrived.
'Her plane's late,' Carla told us. 'Poor Jake just arrived at Brissie airport to find out. He'll have to hang around for hours.'
'Bummer!' Georgie mouthed to us with a smirk.
'Here we are,' Reg said, carrying the last of the boards over. 'Eight surfboards, all in one piece.'
'Can we leave the boards here for a minute? Pleeeaaase?' Kia asked, although she'd already grabbed her bag and was running. 'I need to see the Starfish Bungalow. Now!'
Reg watched her and Georgie sprint down the pathway. 'Excuse my daughter,' he said, chuckling. 'She's a bit excited.'
'She looks wonderful, Reg,' Carla said.
'She is.' He smiled before a tiny frown cracked his brow. 'Now,' he said and coughed. 'As the official slave, I'll put the boards to bed in the shed. Then I'll be off. Unless there's anything else you need me to do, Carla?'
'Are you offering to be my slave too?'
