Faking Sweet

by J. C. Burke

  ‘I still don’t get why she told you all those things about me?’

  I knew why. Calypso lied to me about Jess so I would find it easy to carry out her revenge. But revenge for what? The only thing Jess was guilty of was being pretty, popular, and on top of it, nice. She’d been almost easy to hate.

  When we walked into the kitchen I just about turned around and bolted back out the door. Leaning into the fridge was Scott.

  ‘Raid your own fridge.’ Jess kicked him up the butt.

  ‘Your food is way better.’ Scott pulled his head out, saw me standing there, opened his mouth, closed it, then stuck his head back in the fridge. Which was good for me, as I was contemplating crawling into the dishwasher.

  ‘Scott, you remember Holly,’ said Jess.

  He grunted.

  ‘Scott!’ Jess pulled at his belt. ‘Scott! You would not believe what Holly’s just told me. Hello? You so want to know this, I promise.’

  Scott shut the fridge and jumped up onto the kitchen counter. ‘Yeah, what?’

  ‘Come on, Holly.’ Jess tapped the bench. I lifted myself up next to her. Half my bum was hanging over the kitchen sink. My left buttock could’ve turned the tap on. ‘Tell Scott everything, Holly.’

  If I had thought telling Jess about Calypso’s lies was excruciating then multiply it by ten billion, and that’s how it felt telling Scott. At least Jess reduced the agony by butting in every two seconds.

  But Scott sat there and listened. At least he looked like he did. I’d know ’cause I couldn’t stop watching him. He had the longest eyelashes that fluttered like the wings of a butterfly.

  ‘So how come Calypso told you all these lies about Jess?’ Scott asked. ‘Not that it surprises me. She’s a total case. But were you sitting around one day and she just started saying all this random stuff about Jess?’

  I knew it was the flaw in my story and that it was a risk, but when Scott’s next line was, ‘You’re gutsy for telling us about it. I wouldn’t want to get caught double-crossing Calypso’, I knew it had been a risk worth taking.

  ‘It’s nothing.’ I flicked my hair off my face. ‘I just thought Jess had the right to know. And you too.’ I swallowed the panic that was rising up my food tube. Hopefully we were off that topic.

  ‘Holly reckons we should do something to Calypso. You know, make her feel really bad.’

  ‘We?’ Scott echoed. ‘Don’t include me in that.’

  ‘Oh come on, Scott,’ Jess whined. ‘She did all that …’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ I blurted. Please Scott, let me absolve my sins? But I couldn’t exactly get down on my knees and beg. ‘I mean it. I’ll do it. I don’t need any help.’

  ‘But do what?’ Scott asked. He had the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. ‘I don’t mean to sound like a spoilsport, but Calypso’s a dangerous chick. I’d be careful.’

  ‘I’m not scared.’

  ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’

  ‘Deadly,’ I told him.

  ‘Does Calypso still live in Melbourne? Like do you even know where to find her?’

  ‘She sent me a text today.’

  ‘Today!’ Jess and Scott yelped in unison.

  ‘Can I see it?’ Jess asked.

  Under the table I crossed my fingers. ‘I accidentally deleted it.’ Then I uncrossed them.

  ‘You see …’ I took a deep breath and hoped for the best. ‘Calypso doesn’t know that I know Daydream Island isn’t true.’ That wasn’t a lie.

  ‘So how did you find out it wasn’t true?’ Scott was asking all the right questions.

  ‘My mum told me.’ I counted to three then came out with the clanger. ‘Calypso, um, still thinks we’re friends.’

  ‘What?’ Jess cried.

  ‘No, it’s good. It’s good.’ Who was I trying to convince? ‘It makes it easier to get to her.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Scott was nodding. ‘I see what you’re saying. Clever.’

  ‘I told you she was clever,’ Jess nudged Scott. ‘So what are we going to do to Calypso? Any ideas?’

  ‘Well,’ I started, ‘we could tell Calypso you’re dying. Or that you’ve died.’

  It was a way-out idea but it looked like it was going to work in Much Ado about Nothing.

  Jess squealed and Scott burst out laughing. I think he thought I was joking.

  ‘Like what they do with Hero,’ I explained to Jess. ‘In English.’

  ‘Ohhhh.’ Jess clicked. ‘I get it. What was that line?’

  ‘“Change slander to remorse.”’

  ‘Yeah,’ Jess giggled. ‘“Change slander to remorse.” See, I am good at English, Scott.’

  ‘No offence, Jess,’ Scott said, ‘but I think Calypso’d be happy if she heard you were dying.’

  ‘True.’ I couldn’t help agreeing.

  ‘You two are horrible. You two are … hey!’ Jess shrieked. She began to bash her heels against the kitchen cupboard. ‘Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!’ She punched the air with each word. ‘I’ve got it! I’ve got it!’

  Scott and I exchanged a look of concern.

  ‘I have the best idea,’ Jess announced. ‘Oh my God, listen to this. Scott, you start going out with Holly.’

  There was silence. Complete silence. I wanted the waste disposal to mash me into teeny-weeny pieces then suck me down the drain.

  ‘I don’t mean going out for real,’ Jess laughed. ‘I mean pretend to Calypso you’re going out.’ Jess turned to Scott then to me. ‘What? It’s a good idea. It’d make Calypso feel really, really bad. Isn’t that what we want to do?’

  I couldn’t think of one single thing to say. I had planned on Calypso looking like the idiot. Not me, again. ‘Um, ah I hmm ooh …’

  ‘Okay.’ Scott gave me the biggest, cheesiest grin. I truly almost fell down the sink then. ‘Are you game, Holly?’

  ‘Holly?’ Jess asked.

  ‘Okay,’ I squeaked.

  Half of me felt like I’d rolled from one bad plan to the next. The other half felt excited. At least I’d be spending more time with Scott. He was so easy to be around. I’m not just saying that ’cause he was the best-looking guy I had ever seen in my entire life, honest. He was also easy to talk to, and I liked that.

  I knew it was just pretending going out, and that someone like Scott would never ever, ever, ever go for someone like me. But perhaps now was as good a time as any to start a health kick or a beauty regime – some sort of self-improvement program.

  The tonic Jess had given me was working miracles on my forehead. I checked my face out in my bedroom mirror, along with some ‘being sexy’ practice. Well, trying to be sexy.

  ‘Hi, Scott,’ I pouted. ‘Hi.’

  I sounded better when I said, ‘Hey, Scotty’, but it’d be a while before I could graduate to that line.

  ‘Hi, Scott.’ I tried it with a deeper, huskier voice. ‘Hello, Sssscott.’

  If I combed a bit of hair down on my forehead it practically covered the only patch that was still bumpy. All pus pies had officially left my skin. Thank you, Jess.

  I rapped around my room singing, ‘Thank ya, Jess, for da suggestion. Givin’ me da Scott for ma … digestion?’ I couldn’t think of a word that rhymed better.

  Suddenly my bubble of delicious deliriousness popped with the beeping of a text message.

  I looked at my phone. It suddenly seemed dirty, lying on the bed feigning innocence. When all of this was over I was going to get a new one.

  ‘What load of crap are you going to tell me today?’ I asked it, picking it up, resisting the temptation to chuck it out the window. Then I read:

  Meet me at the canteen a.m. Jx

  ‘Holly!’ Jess called from her table. ‘Over here!’

  Unfortunately it didn’t look simple … Saskia and Isabelle were sitting on either side of Jess. I took a step forward then stopped. What were they going to do to me? Inform me I wasn’t to speak to Jess anymore?

  Jess beckoned me over. ‘Come on,’ she mouthed.

  I took anoth
er three steps then stopped again. There was something that looked like a smile breaking through the foundation on Saskia’s face. Now Isabelle was wiggling her fingers in a way that resembled a wave.

  ‘Thank God, her forehead’s improved,’ I heard Saskia whisper just as I reached the table.

  ‘Hiiiii, Holly,’ Saskia and Isabelle chimed together. They reminded me of a couple of Barbie dolls, all hair and smiles. Sooo fake!

  ‘Sit down, Hol.’ Jess pulled out the chair next to Isabelle. ‘I’ve just finished telling the girls about our plan.’

  ‘You did?’ I stammered.

  ‘Oh, you don’t mind, do you?’ Jess frowned.

  ‘Um.’ I wasn’t sure how I felt.

  ‘You poor thing,’ Saskia said to me.

  ‘Huh?’ I pulled at my ears.

  ‘We’re so glad Jess has finally decided to do something about Calypso,’ she continued. ‘The way Calypso tried to pin the shoplifting thing on Jess was so scum. Soooo scum.’

  ‘And what about Scott?’ Isabelle reminded her. ‘He hasn’t been the same since Calypso.’

  ‘He just can’t get over it,’ Saskia added.

  Their conversation seemed familiar because it was. This is what I’d overheard them discussing the first time I followed Jess to the underwear sale. If I remembered, it was Step 3: Observation. The memory made my stomach roll.

  ‘So Scott’s okay about the Holly and him plan?’ Isabelle asked Jess.

  I picked up an empty paper cup and squashed it in my hands. I could sense a bad bit coming.

  ‘Totally okay,’ Jess replied. ‘After you left, Hol, Scott went on and on about how cool it was that you told us.’

  ‘You must be happy about the plan,’ Isabelle’s eyes scanned me. ‘Scott’s pretty cute, don’t you think?’

  ‘He’s … okay,’ I replied to the perfect turned-up tip of Isabelle’s nose. I hadn’t quite graduated to meeting her eyes. At least if you stare at the nose it looks like you’re having eye contact. ‘He’s not really my type,’ I lied.

  ‘So what is your type?’ Isabelle smirked.

  ‘Hey Holly, Scott said to ask if you have a space?’ said Jess.

  ‘Um?’ The three faces stared back. I wasn’t quite sure who I was meant to be talking to. I needed a rule book. ‘A space on MSN, you mean?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Jess nodded. ‘Scott has the bestest idea: pasting photos of you and him on your space. How cool is that? Calypso will die when she sees it.’

  ‘But how are you …’ Isabelle said, the slightest shade of pink flushing through her cheeks, ‘how are you going to get photos of Scott and …’ She cleared her throat. ‘Her?’

  ‘Take them, duh,’ Saskia mocked. ‘With that thing called a camera.’

  I couldn’t help giggling at the psycho face Saskia was pulling at Isabelle.

  ‘You are free this weekend, aren’t you?’ Jess asked me.

  Let me think. ‘Yep.’

  ‘This is what Scott and I thought.’ We all leaned forward in our chairs as Jess spoke. ‘The movies on Saturday night, then ice-skating on Sunday. What do you think?’

  How about the most fantastic thing I had ever heard in my entire life.

  ‘I think that’ll be okay.’ I let a little smile slip. The enormous cheesy grin was sitting just inside my mouth, and would only be released when I was on my own.

  ‘Why the movies and ice-skating?’ Isabelle picked up the cup I’d squashed and started picking little pieces off it. ‘How many photos do you need?’

  ‘Night ones are good. More romantic,’ Jess explained. ‘That’s why Scott thought a late session at the movies. And ice-skating, well,’ Jess started to giggle. ‘You know how the girls always fall over and the boys help them up.’

  Only in an ‘it’ girl world, I thought.

  ‘Scott reckoned that’d make a great picture. You know, him and Holly falling down on the ice together.’

  ‘That’s so cute,’ Saskia crooned.

  ‘Oh, he’s fully into it,’ Jess told us. ‘I can’t believe it.’

  ‘That’s ’cause he despises Calypso so much,’ Isabelle hissed.

  ‘Or likes Holly,’ Saskia hinted.

  Isabelle looked at Saskia like she’d just eaten her own poo then offered her some.

  ‘I can’t wait for the weekend,’ Saskia chuckled. ‘I bet Jase’ll be fully into this.’

  ‘Oh?’ Jess and I said, almost at the same time. I didn’t know why Jess said it. I said it ’cause I hadn’t banked on the ‘it’ girls’ travelling circus coming along too. I didn’t want to be some type of spectacle they came to point and laugh at.

  There was a way to delay things. Maybe that way the others would lose interest or get a better offer. ‘There’s no big rush to get the photos.’ I struggled to make my voice sound casual. ‘It’ll be ages and ages before Calypso sees them. She’s grounded and banned from MSN and …’

  ‘Calypso was on MSN last night,’ Saskia said. ‘I haven’t deleted her name yet.’

  ‘Oh? I wonder how …’ Then I realised how and where and on whose computer. ‘Don’t worry,’ I muttered.

  ‘So we’re on for the weekend?’ Jess asked.

  I had to remind myself this wasn’t about me or my enjoyment. This was about changing “slander to remorse”. These photo sessions were going to be embarrassing. Possibly the most unbearably humiliating experience I’d ever have. But I deserved it – every single cringe-worthy second of it.

  Exams were a week away, and the study was piling up on the desk in my bedroom. Science was doing my head in. I was so over Mr Newton and his laws of motion.

  TO CHANGE THE MOTION OF AN OBJECT, I wrote. AN UNBALANCED FORCE …

  I can’t stand it any longer! I threw my pen across the room, shoved my books out of the way and said, ‘Talking about unbalanced forces’. I signed onto MSN. ‘Let’s see if the unbalanced force is on tonight.’

  There they were.

  C and Miranda … bff Lypsy, love you.

  Best friends forever Lypsy. One guess for who C and Lypsy were.

  I sat up straight, wiggled my fingers, took a deep breath and wrote:

  Holly … no more sleeps says:

  Hey

  Poof! Into cyberworld their names disappeared from the screen. They’d blocked me!

  Lying under my keyboard was the story I’d cut out from New Idea. My trusted ‘trust’ article. The piece of paper that was meant to keep me honest and remind me to be a good friend when I was feeling pissed off with Calypso.

  I took the scissors out of my pencil case and cut the story into tiny pieces. Then I went all the way outside, in my pyjamas, and threw it into the big green bin that was waiting for the garbage collectors.

  Afterwards, it was straight to the bathroom to scrub my hands with Dad’s special disinfectant soap.

  It was almost 6.00 pm. I’d been home for two hours, yet I hadn’t done a scrap of study. I wasn’t able to concentrate ’cause at 6.30 pm Jess was ringing me and we were doing three-way chat with Scott.

  So what had I done in those two hours? Tried on about six outfits. All of them looked disgusting on me. I had a serious ‘no-clothes’ dilemma on my hands. It was time to squeeze a bit of cash out of Dad so I could go shopping at Lipstix before the weekend. I still had the $200; I hadn’t put it back in the bank – nah, I’d ask Dad.

  At least I’d perfected my hairstyle after five attempts. It was a loose bun with a few stray hairs swept over the forehead to hide the remaining zits. Which led me to my next successful experiment.

  Today at lunch, Saskia had given me a new foundation. It didn’t end there. She then apologised for being such a bitch when I smashed her bottles jumping off the Science ledge. I was totally gobsmacked. Honestly, I almost saw stars I felt so giddy.

  Saskia wanted to test the colour on me while we were sitting around, but I was too embarrassed. I was sure I could see Nadene ‘no-friends’ eyeing me from the boundary of the ‘it’ girls area. In some ways I felt bad that sh
e would never get to cross the border, but most of me was happy ’cause I was sitting right in the middle of it!

  Calypso once told me that the best way to use foundation was to mix it with a bit of moisturiser. I didn’t have any so I improvised with a drop of vegetable oil from the kitchen cupboard. It worked a treat. I was shiny and glowing like I’d spent a week on a tropical island.

  The other thing I’d done was check my emails. After busting Calypso and Miranda on MSN together, I thought maybe the ‘unbalanced one’ would’ve sent me an email bursting with lies and excuses. She hadn’t.

  What I didn’t get was that Calypso had gone to all the trouble to invent this revenge scheme. Then, on the day it’s meant to go ahead, I never hear from her again. Well once, but one pathetic text didn’t count.

  So she was grounded, so what? She wasn’t having trouble finding her way to Miranda’s place. Wasn’t Calypso curious to know if the ‘planting’ had gone ahead? Or had she assumed that, like the other steps, I’d stuffed up number 5 too?

  I was staring in the mirror, perfecting a few more poses and ‘Hi Scott’s’ when Mum came in with the phone.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she asked me.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘What’s on your face?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Jess Flynn’s on the phone.’

  I shooed Mum out of my room and closed the door. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hey, Hol,’ Jess said.

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘Is the space ready yet?’

  ‘Um, I’m making it now.’ In three seconds flat I’d signed on as ‘Off line’ and clicked on ‘Get a space.’ ‘Yep. Ready,’ I said.

  ‘Okay. I’ll put you on hold and ring Scott.’

  The classical-piano hold music started. I scrolled down the ‘MSN space’ page. I’d never thought of getting one. I wasn’t interesting enough, or rather no one was interested in Holly Hankinson and her non-existent life.

  Jess: I’m back.

  Me: Hey.

  Scott: Hey, Hol.

  My heart did a triple somersault with flip. Did Scott just call me Hol?