by J. C. Burke
Thinking about that hurt and made me mad. Not hurt and mad like I was when Mum and Dad split up. I was really mad then. When I found out Dad had a girlfriend I threw his mobile phone down the drain outside his place.
This time I was hurt and mad because I'd been stupid. That's what Mum was trying to say to me on our car trip here. Now, it made sense.
Anyway, I was never going to get the opportunity to snap Tim's favourite board in two or scratch the paint on his stupid BMW motorbike. Besides, I didn't have to. I had Jules to take my mind off him. I wasn't going to waste another second thinking about Tim Parker.
After lunch, everyone was lounging around on the verandah – at least I thought everyone was – so I snuck up to the bungalow to get changed.
The door was wide open and inside Micki was sitting on her bed folding her washing.
'Hi, Micki,' I said. But she didn't seem to hear me. 'Hey,' I said again.
Micki looked up. 'Ace? Hi.'
'What are you doing?'
'Nothing.' Micki shrugged.
I was prying but Micki did seem flat. 'Are you okay? You seem a bit . . . sad.'
'Just tired,' she answered. 'What are you up to?'
'Oh, nothing.' I was searching around the floor for my blue dress that Tim always said I looked sexy in. 'Just thought I'd get changed out of my boardies.'
I found my blue dress and slipped off to the bathroom. Bronzer, lip gloss and a light spray of perfume. Quietly, I climbed up on the toilet seat so I could inspect my whole reflection.
The dress did look good on me, especially as I was super-tanned. I experimented with a few variations. The side of my dress hitched up into my bikini pants – that looked cheap. A belt around the waist – that made it look like I'd tried too hard. One sleeve off the shoulder and all my hair swept over to the side was the winner. If I was Jules I'd be thinking: She is hot!
When I finally emerged, Micki was still sitting on her bed folding the same towel.
'You look nice,' she said.
'Thanks,' I said, smiling. 'You know when you just feel like dressing up? I am so sick of wearing board shorts every day.'
'Are you going to meet that guy?'
I opened my mouth then closed it.
Micki was looking at me like what she'd just said was the most normal thing in the world.
'I saw you two down at the beach the other day.'
I heard the gasp escape up my throat. Had anyone else seen?
'He's pretty good-looking.'
I melted onto the bed next to Micki. 'I know.'
'You'd make a good couple.'
That's what I thought too. She was so sweet, Micki. I was glad we were organising the fashion parade for her.
'Um ...' Micki was studying me closely. 'I think you've got a bit too much of that shiny stuff on your left cheek.'
'Can you fix it?'
'Sure.' Micki tilted my chin and rubbed at my skin. 'What would you do if you knew something really bad but you weren't allowed to say anything about it?'
'Oh, I guess it depends on what it was.' I was doing my best to sound super-casual. 'If it was bad and upsetting me I'd definitely share it with someone.'
'Just say you couldn't.'
'Well, why couldn't you?'
'Because you promised.'
'But what if you could trust the person not to tell anyone?'
It had to be three minutes until two o'clock but patiently I sat there waiting for Micki to tell me whatever Carla nearly did but then wouldn't.
'Okay,' Micki said, standing up and having a stretch, 'sneak out through the tennis courts. They'll never see you.'
'Oh? Yeah. Good idea. Thanks, Micki.'
Yeah, I was really glad we were doing the fashion parade.
GEORGIE
Ace had made a plan and was taking me through it.
'So I'll say, "Who feels like playing truth or dare?" and you act all keen and say "Yeah." Kia will play for sure 'cause I suggested it and Micki will if she knows you are.'
'And what are we going to do if Micki picks a dare and not a truth?'
'We'll play a few rounds,' Ace said. 'You can't just pick dares all the time. Can you?'
'I think you can choose what you want.'
'Well, I'll make it a rule that you have to alternate between truths and dares.'
'Ace, I hope this doesn't backfire on us.'
'It won't.'
'I don't reckon Micki will say anything if Kia's around.'
'But Kia knows Micki's dad.'
'I'm still not sure.'
'Jules thought it was a good idea,' Ace added. 'He helped me with it.'
'And that's meant to boost my confidence?'
'He's soooo nice,' Ace gasped, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and giving herself a hug. 'Soooo nice.'
'Let's go back to our room and see what happens,' I said. 'Leave it up to me.'
Back in the bungalow, Kia was lying on her bed listening to her iPod. She gave us a limp wave, rolled onto her side and kept listening.
'I wonder where Micki is?' Ace said to me.
'She's down at the phone,' Kia answered.
Ace shot me a 'lucky we didn't say anything else' look.
'Talking to her dad,' she finished.
'Talking to her dad?' I repeated. 'How do you know?'
'Because she told me,' Kia replied. 'Why? What's the big deal?'
'Oh.' Ace went to the door and closed it. 'We thought something may have happened – to Micki's dad.'
'What are you doing?' I mouthed to Ace.
We had made Carla a promise and Ace was on the way to breaking it.
'Yeah.' Kia took out her earplugs. 'He's gone to hospital.'
'He's gone to hospital?' Ace echoed.
'How do you know?' I asked Kia.
Kia picked up her earplugs and stuffed them back in her ears. 'My dad told me,' she replied.
Kia was acting strange. Not that there was anything strange about Kia acting strange, but there was something missing from the puzzle.
I tugged at Kia's pants. She almost broke my hand she hit it so hard. 'Ow!'
'Well, don't pull at my pants.'
'Sorry.' I rubbed at my wrist, trying to remember what I was going to say. 'Oh yeah. Does Micki know you know her dad's in hospital?'
'Dunno.' Kia shrugged. 'I guess so.'
'What, you haven't asked her how her dad is?' I pushed. 'Or what's wrong with him?'
'No.' Kia looked at Ace, who was pacing around the room. 'Ask Ace. She knows what a loser he is.'
'Shh,' Ace whispered. 'She's coming.'
Micki threw open the door with a 'Guess what?'
'Is he bad?' Ace blurted. I nearly whacked her and her big mouth.
'Huh?' Micki frowned.
'Nothing,' Ace mumbled.
'What's happened? Micki?' I said, carefully.
'I just saw Jake.'
'Is that all?' I almost said, but when she got to the end of her announcement suddenly Micki's dad left my mind.
'And guess what?' Micki continued. 'Three talent scouts arrive tomorrow and are staying till Friday.'
Even Kia sat up to attention. 'Four days!' she spluttered.
'Jake wouldn't say too much,' explained Micki, 'but he did say that their input would influence the selections.'
'That's Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday,' Kia counted.
'Yes, Kia, we know the days of the week,' I said.
'So are they going to watch us the whole time?' Kia asked.
'Probably,' Ace answered.
'Then on the last day they'll rip us to shreds,' I added.
'And send some of us home,' Kia told us.
'How do you know that?' Ace gasped.
'Oh, I don't know,' Kia said. 'I just bet that's what they'll do.'
'But they can't,' Ace said. 'Or they would've had to tell us beforehand. We're, we're minors!'
'Yeah,' I agreed.
'That's crap,' Ace whined. 'Total crap. Just when it was getting fun
.'
'Just when it was getting fun,' I heard myself mumble Ace's words.
'So what time do these scouts arrive, Micki?' Kia spat.
'Lunchtime. That's what Jake said.'
The three of us watched as Ace pulled out her phone, which was stashed underneath the mattress of her bed. She then stomped to the bathroom and slammed the door.
'All I said was what Jake told me,' Micki said, and shrugged.
I shrugged back. Suddenly I wasn't in the mood for comforting Micki or reassuring Kia or any of them for that matter. Why couldn't surfing be all fun? Why did there have to be competitions and scout searches and selections?
Like a big, fat slap across the face I'd just been given a rude reminder about what we were actually doing here. Back at home, each day camp had got closer, the dread in my tummy had grown heavier and heavier – but it had turned out to be fun. I hadn't expected that. The other thing I hadn't expected was to be surfing so well. But I was, because apart from the first day or so I hadn't felt that pressure. That pressure that pushed down on me until it felt like I couldn't move.
Now the brick that had been hiding away had just landed in my stomach with a thud. I knew what scouts equalled. They equalled pressure, equalled failure, equalled me having to face two of the goals stored away in Shyan's box: get my fire back, or worse, admit I didn't want it back.
No truth or dare. No chatting into the night. By nine-thirty the lights were out and we were all asleep, or at least pretending to be.
From my bed's new position, I saw Micki go into the bathroom just before eleven. She seemed to be in there forever. I wondered if she was crying or thinking about her dad. Maybe it was the right moment to go in and talk to her, to check if she was okay, but I just couldn't. Not tonight. I had my own mind to settle.
At two am, I was still wide-eyed. I crept over to Kia's bed and snuck her iPod from under her pillow. She moaned a bit and mumbled 'Don't look' or something like that but she didn't wake up.
After an early morning expression session followed by breakfast, Jake summoned us into the rec room. We knew what it was about. It was all anyone had been talking about.
The butterflies thundered around in my guts. I could feel them headbutting one another.
'Okay, girls. Settle down,' he said. 'I know the word's out so let's talk about it before the rumours get out of hand.'
'Is it true some of us are being sent home at the end of the week?' Typical: Megan had her claws out. But, really, she was just asking what all of us wanted to but were too chicken.
'No,' Jake replied. 'That's rumour number one out the window.'
Ace gave me a thumbs up. I reckoned the surfing had nothing to do with why she wanted to stay.
'Three talent scouts from Surf Australia will be here after lunch. They'll be staying until Friday morning. That's three and a half days to show them what you can do,' Jake told us. 'You have been graded into three groups. Although my Starfish Sisters are group one, that's based on the amount of competitive experience they've had and not necessarily on pure ability.'
'Gee, thanks,' Ace called. 'We love you too, Jake.'
We all had a laugh, which was good. You could almost see the tension falling off the girls' shoulders – not mine, though. My shoulders were so tight they felt like they were glued to my ears.
'What I'm trying to say, Ace, is that there is very little between any of you. You're all elite surfers. As far as we're concerned, you all have what it takes. But it'll be focus and discipline that make the difference here. Get it?'
Ace was blushing. I didn't blame her, either, as Jake pretty much directed that whole speech towards her.
Kia's hand was up and waving. 'Do we know the scouts? Are they ones we've met on the circuit before?'
'No,' Jake replied. 'They're three fresh faces. So there's no bias towards or against any of you.'
'And will they be the ones making the selections for the Junior Team Training Camp?' Kia asked. 'Are you allowed to tell us that?'
'Nothing's a secret, Kia. It's not some conspiracy,' Jake said, laughing. 'They will put forward recommendations. Does that answer your question?'
'Yep.'
'Good. You can stop frowning now.'
The fun had been zapped, along with my appetite. But I didn't even feel happy about that. At lunch, I watched my fork push my chicken salad back and forth, back and forth across the plate.
'That's them,' Kia whispered behind her bread roll.
Three women, all slim and smiles and white teeth, entered the dining room. That moment had to be the quietest one this room had ever known. Even Brian stopped the lecture he was giving Megan over at the salad bar.
'Do you recognise any of them?' I asked Ace.
'I'm sure the smaller one I've seen before,' she replied. 'I can't be positive but I think it's her.'
'What's she like?' Kia was in the middle of the big check-out.
Me, I could hardly turn my head my neck was so stiff.
'She looks like a bitch,' Kia finished her assessment. 'So does the one in the white shorts.'
I stood up, my plate still heaped with food.
'Where are you going?' Ace asked.
'To the loo.' I tried to smile but I don't think it came out right. 'I may be some time.'
Ace found me pacing the bungalow floor.
'I wouldn't go into the bathroom,' I warned. 'I just deposited a gutful of butterflies in there.'
'Nice!'
'Sorry. I hope you didn't need to go.'
'No.' Ace sat on my bed and watched me.
Again I tried to make my lips turn up in a smile.
'I wanted to see if you were okay. Your skin turned a bit white at lunch.'
'My skin is always white.'
'Well, I'm talking whiter than usual, sweetheart,' Ace replied. 'Come on, talk to me. I'm always dumping on you.'
'Okay. But don't ask me to sit down. I need to keep pacing.' How could I find the right words for this? This burden that I'd never dared unload to anyone. 'I'm freaking out. I'm terrified. It's like I'm standing on the corner of a street and I don't know if I should turn left and go to Maccas or turn right and go to Subway.'
'What the hell are you talking about, Georgie?'
'I don't know if I can do this.'
'Of course you can. It's just nerves. Nerves can be a good thing. It's just a matter of working out how to use them. I can teach you.'
I took a deep breath and let my secret spill from the bottom of my tummy. 'But I don't know if I want to.'
'What do you mean?'
'I don't know if I want to . . .'
'Want to what, Georgie?'
Ace was frowning. I was going to have to say it. Every single word.
'I don't know if I want to surf – competitively, I mean.' There, I'd said it and the sky hadn't crashed down on me. 'I'm just not sure anymore.'
'Wow,' Ace uttered. Again, 'Wow.'
I stared at the floor. Say something – please.
'I just, well, out of everyone, you're the last person I expected to hear that from.'
That was it. The girl who got 8.5 wasn't meant to be the girl who said that.
'Do you think it was bad of me to take a spot here?'
Ace sat there, her head to one side, her perfect eyebrows scrunched up in a frown. She was thinking. She was really thinking.
'No,' she replied.
My breath escaped, whistling through my teeth.
'No. Definitely not,' said Ace. 'You said you weren't sure. You didn't say you absolutely knew that you didn't want to compete. I mean, you need to be here so you can figure it out. How else are you going to know?'
I kept nodding. These were the things I needed to hear. I could trust Ace to tell me the truth. We'd sorted out the truth issues last week. Just as well, I thought.
'Have you been thinking this the whole time we've been here?'
'In the beginning I was,' I told her. 'Then, well, we've been having fun. I didn't expect it to be fun. I
guess I thought it'd be just Kia and me hanging out together. Fun usually has an expiry date with her. And she's so competitive with me, which makes me feel even more guilty.'
'Just before I did my shoulder injury I felt a bit like you,' Ace began. 'We'd moved up to the Gold Coast and sponsors were starting to sniff around. It was all really exciting but it was scary too, and I didn't have anyone to talk to 'cause all my friends were back in Mornington. Then I got a place here for a week and ended up being picked as the wild card for the Australian Junior Squad and got OP as a sponsor.'
'That's a big week!'
Maybe my problem wasn't as serious as I'd thought.
'Tell me about it,' Ace said. 'But I was absolutely terrified being picked as a wild card. I mean, that is pressure.'
'So what happened?'
'I stuffed my shoulder a couple of months before squad training started. I was freaking out OP were going to dump me.'
'But they didn't.'
'No.' Ace shrugged. 'They made me their model while my shoulder got better. But it was then, when I couldn't surf and compete, that I realised that's what I really missed. Not being able to surf was a bit like only having half of myself.'
'But I don't know if I'm the same as you,' I explained. 'I love surfing. I think I'd feel like part of me was missing too if I couldn't do it anymore. But competitive surfing is different. It's a whole new thing.'
'What are your options?'
'I don't know that, either. I'm confused.'
'Have you ever spoken to a sports psychologist?'
'Noooo!'
Maybe I shouldn't have said it like that. It wasn't exactly like seeing a shrink. But a sports psychologist? What could they do for me? All they'd try and do would be teach me strategies to manage my nerves. And I could do that myself. I'd already tried listening to music before I competed – it didn't work. Deep breathing and relaxation techniques – I kept forgetting where I was up to. Positive visualisation – that had to be the most annoying thing I'd ever tried. Having some quiet time on my own – it was tempting to find such a quiet place that no one'd be able to find me.
'Just try your best, Georgie, and see what happens,' Ace told me. 'If you stuff up and don't make the training team then that's your mind made up for you. You could take a year off competing and see what it's like. But I reckon you'd miss it, Georgie. You're competitive. I've seen it in you. We're all competitive, that's why we're here.'
