by Em Bailey
Still, I had to admit they’d been putting in a regular appearance at date night for a few months now. Longer than I’d thought they’d last. They bought their tickets from Noah, then came over to my counter where I had their stuff already waiting for them. Water and large salted popcorn for Cam. Diet Coke and choc-top for Katie. The choc-top was Katie’s weekly treat in an otherwise super-strict diet. Having the snacks set up and ready to go was my way of minimising our interaction, which was – from my perspective at least – leg-amputationally painful.
Cameron always gave me these patronisingly sympathetic looks, like I’d totally missed out when I rejected him. Although knowing Cam, he probably turned the whole thing around so it was him who’d rejected me. And then there was Katie, relishing the chance to have me run around serving her again, like I used to when we were partners in bitchiness.
The crowd in front of the counter had finally begun to let up when the heavy front doors of the Mercury swung open and a small figure appeared, bedraggled and hunched over.
‘Toby!’ I said, coming out from behind the snack bar. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I just wanted to hang out with you.’ His voice had a pleading note to it. ‘Can I stay?’
‘Come and sit here, Tobes,’ I said, clearing a space at the counter for the laptop. I was used to having Toby there when Mum needed a babysitter. I constructed a wall of junk food in front of him.
‘This is a cinema, not some kind of free-food centre!’ called Noah from the ticket window. Noah’s sleaze-to-boss ratio altered on date night.
Luckily my rate of ignoring him remained the same. ‘I’ll pay for whatever he eats,’ I said, and didn’t point out that at the inflated prices we charged, the cinema could afford to give a few snacks away.
Toby climbed slowly up onto the barstool. ‘It’s so crowded.’
‘I can fix that,’ I said.
Toby glanced at me dubiously. I reached to the control panel near the cash register and pressed the bell that made session chimes ring. ‘Watch.’
The moment they heard the chimes, everyone made a dash for the cinema doors. There was no allocated seating at the Mercury.
Noah frowned and leapt over to the front of the mass. It was his job to tear the tickets and let people in. ‘Bit early, isn’t it?’ he muttered as he swung past.
I didn’t care. Five minutes later all the couples had gone and Toby was clacking away happily at the laptop. All was right with the world again. Even Noah cheered up once he’d done a till-reading and saw how much money we’d taken. It’s amazing the amount of poor-quality confectionery that people will buy when they’re on a date. Noah didn’t even complain when I removed the Mercury CD and plugged in my iPod to play Luxe.
I began to restock the takeaway cups as ‘Steeple Chaser’ started playing, and when the foyer filled with the sound of Dallas’s voice I got a sudden, unavoidable urge to dance. The feeling swung me up and away and promised to help me forget all about everything. Date night. Katie and Cameron. Dad. Weird websites that made my skin crawl and that I somehow couldn’t quite forget, no matter how hard I tried.
To hell with it all. I closed my eyes as I started to dance. You’re not at the Mercury anymore, I told myself. You’re at a Luxe gig. Straight away I could picture it. The place was packed and there was no room for dancing, and somehow we were dancing anyway. Dancing and going crazy. But then I felt someone watching me. Dallas from Luxe.
When our eyes met he smiled and he stretched out his hand and suddenly I was being pulled up onto the stage. In my fantasy, Dallas paid no attention to anyone around him. Only to me.
‘Olive,’ called Noah suddenly. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m expressing the joy of life,’ I called back, my eyes still closed. ‘Through movement.’
‘Maybe you could express your joy of having a job,’ suggested Noah. ‘Through serving that customer.’
My eyes opened. On the other side of the snack bar counter was Lachlan. He raised his hand, his eyes crinkling a little at each corner. ‘Hey there.’
‘Oh … Hi.’
Why wasn’t there an emergency number to call when your face was so hot it was in danger of spontaneously igniting?
I turned down the music. Tugged my skirt back into place. The giant plastic ice-cream above the snack bar began a round of high-pitched whining while Lachlan waited patiently. He looked different out of school uniform. Less like everyone else. I found myself noticing things about him that I hadn’t seen before. Tiny imperfections that made him, I don’t know, more interesting somehow. Like the tiny C-shaped scar on his chin, from some childhood accident on a bike maybe. And the crease beneath his left eye that appeared when he smiled. The funny little tuft of hair that stuck out at the side of his head – the one that my hand itched to smooth down.
Then there were his clothes. I mean, he was wearing jeans and a hoodie like just about every other guy that night, but the hoodie had been patched at the elbow. Both elbows. A lot of people would’ve just chucked a hoodie when it wore out like that. But Lachlan hadn’t. He’d got it fixed. Maybe he’d even fixed it himself.
It’s his favourite, I realised. And that’s when I started thinking that maybe Lachlan Ford wasn’t a sky puzzle-piece after all. Maybe he was a bit of the grass. Or the trunk of a tree. Something with texture.
‘The movie’s already started,’ I said, suddenly aware that I’d been staring. ‘Sorry.’
‘I didn’t come for the movie,’ Lachlan replied.
‘Well, what did you come for?’ I said without thinking. ‘Bowling?’
And straight away I knew what Ami would’ve said if she’d been there. You putz. He came for you. This was one of the reasons I needed her around. Without her I said stupid, stupid things.
Lachlan pulled at the cord of his hoodie so it was way too short on one side. Then he pulled it back the other way. ‘I – just dropped by for an ice-cream. They’re supposed to be good here.’
‘Better than the popcorn that’s for sure,’ I said, scrambling to regain some dignity. ‘What flavour do you want?’
Toby looked up, puzzled. ‘Is there another flavour now?’ he said. ‘I thought there was only vanilla.’ Then he turned to Lachlan. ‘Boringest flavour ever.’
Even the way I blush is weird. It’s my neck, not my face, that turns red. ‘I forgot,’ I muttered. ‘We only have vanilla.’
Then I tripped over, like someone had sneaked in and swapped my real feet for a larger pair.
Lachlan didn’t react at all. Not to my neon neck, my tripping or anything. ‘Vanilla’s good.’
Amazingly, I was able to hand Lachlan the ice-cream without further humiliation. He shoved it into the pocket of his hoodie and I waited for him to turn and leave. But he didn’t. He started to hum along to ‘Steeple Chaser’.
I stared. ‘You know this song?’
‘I’ve heard it once or twice,’ said Lachlan.
OK, so that was kind of sweet, this sporty guy trying to make out he’d heard a Luxe song. I mean, Luxe weren’t on iTunes and they didn’t have a distributor yet – the ‘album’ was a collection of tracks I’d downloaded from their website. There wasn’t even any official album art, which is why I’d had to make my own with a picture I’d found of Dallas on MySpace. I couldn’t bring myself to friend him, but I did look through his pictures and borrow one that I liked.
‘Olive is obsessed with Luxe,’ piped up my big-mouthed brother cheerily. ‘She’s always listening to them.’ I pulled a shut-up face at Toby, which he didn’t seem to see. ‘Luxe, Luxe, Luxe. All the time.’
‘Maybe they’ll do a gig here one day,’ said Lachlan. ‘What’s that local pub called?’
‘The Rainbow,’ I said.
‘Right. Maybe they’ll play there.’
I made my eyes big and wide. ‘You’re a genie, aren’t you? And you’re going to make my wish come true.’
Lachlan smiled, and with a shock I realised I was kind of flirting with him
. ‘It’s at least possible, isn’t it?’ he said.
Well yeah. Most things are possible in theory. It’s possible that there’s life on other planets, or that Ralph could be taught to stay, or that one day my mother will learn to speak fluent Spanish. But a lot of things are also very unlikely. It was unlikely that I’d ever see Luxe play. Or that anything good would ever happen to me again.
The lightness I’d felt while dancing started to ooze out of me like toothpaste from a tube, and I thought I was about to lose my balance and crash to the floor. I steadied myself by leaning against the cash register and focusing on the small panel where the prices came up. The numbers glowed green.
Lachlan leant across the counter. ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’
Stuck to the wall just above the cash register was a small mirror, curved like an eyeball. The thief mirror, Noah called it. He – or possibly his dad – had put it there so that whoever was working the snack bar could make sure no-one was stealing stuff when they were busy at the till. The curve meant that you could see pretty much the entire cinema reflected in it – but in a distorted way. Looking in it now, I could see my own face looming like a monster’s, my body stretched, and my nose sticking out like a toucan’s beak.
Behind me in the mirror was Lachlan. He looked perfect. It felt wrong for us to even be in the same reflection together.
This is all just a joke to him, I reminded myself. And I’m the punchline.
There was no other explanation. No matter what Ami said. I was angry with myself for starting to think otherwise – even for a moment. People like me and Lachlan didn’t belong together.
I turned back around, my folded arms a barrier across my body. ‘I’d better get back to work.’
‘Am I distracting you from your dancing?’
I didn’t return the smile and Lachlan’s soon faded. ‘Oh. OK,’ he said quietly. ‘See ya.’
I stood there stiffly until he’d walked out the double doors and into the night.
I thought I’d feel lighter once he’d gone. I knew I’d done the right thing by sending him away. And even if by some miracle it wasn’t a joke, people like Lachlan didn’t fit into my world anyway. My new world.
But the heavy feeling didn’t go. In fact, it grew stronger as the evening dragged on. By the time my shift ended, I felt heavier than I ever had since starting my meds.
On Monday morning Katie was sitting on her desk, her friends clustered around. I didn’t need to listen in to know what they were discussing. You would have thought they were organising the Olympics from the amount of time they’d spent discussing the formal. The theme was Winter Beach Party, and they were agonising over whether it would be better to decorate the hall with fake sand dunes or fake icebergs, or with sand dunes that looked like icebergs, and whether the glitter around the welcome sign should be silvery-white or yellowy-gold. You know – the big issues.
‘Look at their faces,’ I said to Ami. ‘They’re genuinely worried about it.’
Ami gave me a look. ‘Wasn’t it you who came up with the theme, way back when?’
That was the problem with Ami. She never let me forget anything.
As we walked past Lachlan’s row, he reached out and grabbed hold of my hand. ‘Hang on,’ he said, and I found myself stopping, even though after his visit to the Mercury, I’d vowed I was going to avoid him. It’s hard to do that when someone’s warm fingers are wrapped around yours, though.
Play it mucho relaxed, I told myself, hoping my hands weren’t sweaty. Don’t show him how he affects you. ‘Let me guess,’ I said. ‘The ice-cream gave you food poisoning?’
‘No, I just wanted to –’
But then Katie swooped, like a bird protecting its territory. ‘Lachie,’ she breathed. ‘Thank god you’re here. We really need a guy’s perspective on something.’
I couldn’t help smirking at Lachlan as Katie pulled him over to her desk. It was unsurprising, really, that someone with the physical dimensions of a stop sign was such an effective blocker. I told myself I was grateful, trying to ignore the lingering heat on my hand.
Miranda was already seated when I reached the back row, her hands folded on the desk, leaning forwards. My eyes were drawn to her wrist and for some reason I felt a surge of relief when I saw that the pink thread hadn’t returned.
Miranda was looking pretty good. Her dermatitis seemed to have cleared up and her skin had an almost-healthy pinkish tinge to it. Her hair was shining, closer now to blonde than its previous mousy tone. Even her body looked more solid. It reminded me of how the eating-disorder girls at the clinic looked when they finally started eating again.
Ami noticed the change too. ‘Looks like our shapeshifter is starting to take shape,’ she murmured. I was pretty sure she was kidding, despite the wary look on her face.
Katie and the others were so deep in conversation that they didn’t even notice when Miss Falippi hurried in late, her herbal tea sloshing onto the floor as usual. I’d inspected one of those tea spills once. It looked like dirt and bark, the kind of mixture little kids concoct in the sandpit.
Miss Falippi didn’t seem to notice the mess she’d made. She looked in a bad mood, and was frowning at the meeting taking place on Katie’s desk. ‘That’s enough talking now, people,’ she said. ‘Plenty of time to discuss social events during lunch.’
Katie pouted and slithered down into her seat. Lachlan, looking grateful, returned to his. I felt his eyes turn towards me, but I concentrated on rearranging my pens. Miss Falippi began writing notes on the whiteboard and Katie turned back to whispering with Paige.
‘I said that’s enough, Katie,’ said Miss Falippi, without looking around.
Katie was quiet for a moment, but gradually started up again. There was a loud click as Miss Falippi snapped the lid back on the marker.
‘Sparks,’ I muttered to Ami, ‘are about to fly.’
‘Or maybe whiteboard markers,’ Ami whispered back as Miss Falippi turned around. ‘She’s holding that one like a spear.’
‘Katie Clarke,’ said Miss Falippi. ‘This is unacceptable behaviour.’
‘I didn’t do anything,’ said Katie, doing her doe-eyed thing.
When Miss Falippi cracked the shits, it was like a flash flood, pouring from nowhere, swift and brutal. ‘That’s it! I won’t have this rudeness in my classroom. I’m taking you off the school-formal committee.’
Katie gaped. This was a new experience for her – getting told off – but somehow I knew exactly what she would do.
‘What about Olive?’ she said. ‘She’s always talking and you never punish her.’
‘Just ignore them,’ whispered Ami as every pair of eyes in the room turned to fix on me, including Lachlan’s. But at least his were friendly.
He gestured towards Katie with his thumb. Wonk, he mouthed, shaking his head in this funny, dramatic way. I knew he was doing it to make me feel better. And it did work, at least a little bit. Then there was the sound of a chair scraping against the floor next to me, and suddenly the focus of the room shifted once more.
Now everyone was looking at Miranda, who was standing up. ‘Katie wasn’t talking,’ she said, her voice clear and confident. ‘I was.’
Miss Falippi looked off balance for a moment. Then her eyes narrowed. ‘Oh, really? And who were you talking to?’
On one side of Miranda was an empty chair. On the other side was me – and we never spoke.
Miranda’s eyes flicked towards me and she gave me this strange, sneaky smile, like I was somehow part of this game she was playing. ‘I was talking to myself,’ she said.
Miss Falippi’s mouth was ruler straight. ‘Are you sure about that?’
Miranda nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Fine,’ said Miss Falippi crisply. ‘Then you are forbidden from attending the formal. You will also stay back for detention with me this afternoon and write an essay on the importance of silence. Tomorrow you will read it for the class. Understood?’
Miranda looked at Miss F
alippi, steady and unafraid, wearing the same superior look as when Katie had gone mental at her. Like all of this was beneath her. ‘Understood.’
Miss Falippi glared around the room. ‘Let me be clear,’ she said. ‘If one more person speaks out of turn today, I’ll ban the whole class from attending the formal.’
The rest of the morning passed in total silence. No-one wanted to be the one to send Miss Falippi over the edge.
Just before the bell, I saw Katie quickly turn and nod at Miranda. A thank-you nod. Miranda nodded back.
Ralph bounded up to me as I unlocked the front door that afternoon, his tongue lolling out. A note had been tucked into his collar.
Your mum and Toby have gone to the shops. They’ll be back around dinner time. Can you please take me for a walk? I am driving your mum crazy. Lots of love, Ralph.
‘Your handwriting is really improving, Ralphy,’ I said, scratching the itchy spot between his ears. ‘I’ll change, then we’ll walk. But try to act your dog age, OK? No running off.’
Before, I used to head to the beach for our walks so Ralph could work on his wave-biting skills and growl at the seaweed monsters. But the beach was out of the question now, of course. I could handle being near the swimming pool because it stayed pretty flat. But the ocean, with its swells and waves and hidden currents, made me clammy. Even Dr Richter had advised me to avoid it for the time being. ‘We don’t want to trigger a relapse,’ she said.
Besides, from the way Ralph was leaping about I figured he needed an exercise challenge. That meant heading through the forest behind the school and running up the hill.
