by Em Bailey
‘Hey, Olive.’
I sat up, my tiredness evaporating instantly. It was Lachlan – smiling, but also looking a little strained.
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked.
‘I followed you,’ Lachlan admitted. ‘In a taxi. I’ve done it a couple of times, actually. You know – since you three started going out all the time.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘That sounds pretty creepy, doesn’t it?’
‘That depends,’ I said, ‘on why you’re doing it.’ My heart was jumping around like a loon, but I managed to keep my voice calm.
Lachlan leant forward in the couch. ‘I’m worried about Dallas,’ he said. ‘Really worried.’
‘Oh,’ I said. Don’t you dare feel disappointed, Olive. ‘Why?’
‘He’s a mess,’ said Lachlan. ‘Going hard every night, staying in bed during the day. Not eating. I don’t even know what’s happening with Luxe.’ Lachlan shook his head. ‘He reckons he’s working on some songs, but I don’t think he is.’
I hadn’t known that.
Someone turned up the music then, and even more people crowded into the space in front of the couch. Lachlan inched a little closer to me. ‘Dallas says he’s in love with Miranda. And he thinks she’s in love with him.’ Lachlan was looking at me intently. ‘Do you think she is?’
It seemed like a crazy question – of course Miranda was in love with Dallas. But then I found myself thinking about the way she talked about him. What an amazing catch he was. How lucky she was, and how many girls wished they were her. And how whenever Miranda flung her arms around Dallas and smothered him with kisses, she always seemed to have one eye on me waiting for my reaction.
‘Sometimes –’ I stopped, feeling stupid. Arrogant. But I couldn’t back out now, so I shut my eyes and let it blurt out. ‘Sometimes it’s like she’s just pretending to be in love with him to make me jealous.’
Lachlan didn’t laugh, or look at me like I was a nut. Instead he nodded grimly. ‘Exactly.’ He looked angry then – the angriest I’d ever seen him – hunched over, fists clenched. When he looked at me again he was calm, but I could tell the rage was still simmering not far below. ‘I promised myself I wouldn’t interfere with your life, Olive,’ he said. ‘I know that you’ve got stuff going on, and I’ve tried to leave you alone. But I can’t stop watching out for you, even though I’ve tried.’ He gave a half-laugh. ‘I’ve really, really tried.’
It made me ache to hear that. And it was confusing too. ‘Why are you watching out for me?’
Lachlan looked at me strangely. Like the reason should’ve been obvious. ‘Olive. Haven’t you noticed what’s happening to you?’
‘What are you talking about?’ I said, genuinely startled. ‘I’m a little tired, but everything is fine otherwise.’ I was having fun, wasn’t I? Getting tired was part of that.
Lachlan was quiet for a moment. Then he got up. ‘Follow me,’ he said. ‘I want to show you something.’
He pushed past the drunken dancers, leading me to a bathroom. Lachlan flicked on the light – stark and bright. There, on the wall opposite, was a full-length mirror. Reflected in it was someone I didn’t recognise. Someone thin and pale, with lank hair, sunken cheeks and dark smudges under her eyes. My reflection and I stared at each other and we both inhaled sharply. No.
‘I’ll call a taxi,’ said Lachlan, pulling out his phone. ‘You should go. Now.’
Before Miranda finds us. He didn’t say it, but I knew it was what he meant. And I realised that this was my only chance to speak. Maybe the only one I’d get.
I turned away from my reflection and towards him. ‘You know what I said before, about Miranda trying to make me jealous?’ I spoke quickly, before I could change my mind. ‘By constantly trying to show me how she and Dallas are in love?’
Lachlan flinched. ‘Yes.’
‘Well, it doesn’t work on me,’ I said. ‘It can’t.’
‘Why not?’ said Lachlan cautiously.
‘Because I’m not in love with Dallas,’ I said, the words tumbling out. ‘And I haven’t been since that gig at the Rainbow.’
We just kind of stared at each other then, Lachlan looking like he wasn’t quite sure what I’d said and me not quite sure if I’d actually said it. And then, before either of us could say anything else, the door swung open and Miranda barged in, her face creased with irritation.
‘What are you doing in here?’ she snapped, and without waiting for an answer she pushed past Lachlan and muscled her way over to me.
‘Olive’s going home,’ said Lachlan, trying to block her way. ‘She needs to sleep.’
Miranda looked like she might bite him. ‘No, she doesn’t. She just needs you to piss off.’
‘That’s up to Olive to say, not you,’ replied Lachlan steadily.
Both of them turned to me then, but I was too exhausted to deal with the situation. All I wanted was to crawl into my bed and sleep.
Miranda took my silence as a victory. ‘Let’s go,’ she said, grabbing my arm. ‘Dallas is already waiting in the taxi outside. This party is dead.’
As she marched me out of the room, I glanced back at Lachlan. I had no idea if he understood what I’d been trying to tell him before Miranda barged in. Or if he believed me. But when Lachlan caught my eye there was something in his face – underneath the worry and stress – that gave me a flicker of hope.
Maybe he hasn’t given up on me after all.
‘God, what a loser,’ seethed Miranda. She still had me tightly in her grip and I kept stumbling over shrubs and rocks as she pulled me across the front lawn to the waiting taxi. ‘Those sporty types are all the same, assuming everyone is adoring them from the sidelines, cheering them on.’
I didn’t reply and Miranda suddenly stopped, her eyes boring into me. ‘You don’t care what he thinks, do you?’
I remember Dad explaining to me once that sometimes the body moves instinctively – without you having to think about it – to protect itself from harm. A reflex. Like ducking when a rock’s been thrown at your head, or pulling away from something hot. I felt my head shake from side to side. ‘No,’ I said. ‘Of course I don’t.’
‘Good,’ said Miranda. ‘A guy like that is totally wrong for you. You get that, don’t you? It would never, ever work.’
‘You’re right,’ I said, hoping that I sounded like I meant it. ‘Of course it wouldn’t work.’
I spent most of the next day, Saturday, in bed, and when I woke up around 3p.m. I knew there was no way I could go out that night. I could barely move. But when I went to text Miranda, my phone was missing. I could’ve called from the phone in the kitchen but there were two problems with that. There was a good chance Mum would overhear me, for one thing. And it also involved me getting up. As the day passed, I felt a creeping sense of panic as I tried to figure out what to do. Just not show up and explain I was sick when I saw her next? Most people would accept that. But not Miranda. It was totally possible that she would march up to our front door and demand to know where I was. Gradually it dawned on me. I would have to go out.
So just before 10p.m. I dragged myself out of bed, threw on some clothes and headed out the window as usual. But when I turned the corner there was no taxi waiting. Just Miranda standing alone, straight and still under the streetlight.
‘I’m not in the mood for crowds tonight,’ she said. ‘Let’s walk instead.’
She started heading off down the street before I even had a chance to reply. But of course it hadn’t been a question.
We walked through the quiet suburban streets, not speaking. Occasionally there’d be the barking of a dog in someone’s yard, or I’d glimpse the flicker of a TV but otherwise there was little sign of life. Miranda’s silence was fine by me. I didn’t feel much like talking. I ambled along a few steps behind her, not really paying attention, letting her lead the way. It was only when we came to the main road that I understood where we were going. To the forest.
Miranda’s quietness became even denser onc
e we were surrounded by trees. I almost forgot she was there and when she did finally speak it made me jump. She’d stopped just up ahead, near where the path forked into two. The wider trail led through the woods and eventually back to the main road – I’d walked Ralph along it heaps of times. The other one was narrower and more overgrown and it headed up the hill. It was this path Miranda pointed to.
‘This leads up to the back of Oona’s place,’ she said. ‘If we go this way she won’t spot us.’
‘But why are we going there?’ My voice seemed so tiny in that big forest.
Miranda smiled. ‘There’s a game I want to teach you.’
The path began tilting steeply and soon narrowed to the point where we had to walk single file to fit – Miranda in the front. When did I get so unfit? Invisible creatures whirred past my ears and I felt – even if I couldn’t actually see – nocturnal eyes watching us. Leave, I told myself, my pulse quickening. Get away from here. But I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find my way back in the dark. And there was no way I wanted to be stuck out here alone.
Finally we came to a fence made of thick iron posts. Oona’s fence.
‘Climb through,’ said Miranda.
‘Where?’
She pointed to a gap where some posts had been pushed apart. Miranda waited for me to go first, then slipped through herself. ‘If you follow me, the security lights won’t activate.’
Up ahead was the house, hunched into the hill. But we didn’t head towards it. Instead, Miranda led the way through Oona’s yard, sticking as close to the fence as possible, until we came to the carport.
‘How did she get permission to build this thing?’ I said, trying to sound jokey. The carport had been constructed at the end of the very steep driveway and looked like it could tumble over at any minute. Oona’s car was parked beneath it, its front bumper touching the fence. Beyond the railings the ground dropped away steeply.
‘She didn’t get permission,’ Miranda said.
I stepped back and of course Miranda noticed. ‘You’re not scared of heights, are you?’
‘No,’ I said. Just depths.
‘Oh good.’ Miranda was much more cheerful now. Chatty and excited like she used to be. ‘You’ll love this game then.’ She went over to the fence and used it for a lift up one of the poles. Once she was on the roof, she leant over the edge, her hand stretched down to me. ‘I’ll help you up.’
‘No, thanks. It’s easier if I do it myself.’ I felt the pole wobble as I began climbing. But I knew there was no backing out. I scrambled onto the roof and sat very still as if that might stop the whole structure from collapsing. Miranda didn’t seem worried. She sprang up and sauntered over to the very edge and I noticed something then that I hadn’t seen from the ground. The carport roof actually stuck out over the fence. Sharp rocks jutted up where the ground dropped away below. I drew in my breath sharply as Miranda took a step forward. Her toes were over the edge.
‘Miranda! Stop!’
Miranda laughed. ‘You big baby,’ she said scornfully. ‘This is the whole point. It’s a nerve test. We stand here with our eyes closed until one of us chickens out and steps back. Or falls off.’
‘I’m not playing that. It’s stupid. And dangerous.’
‘Aw, sweetie. Don’t be scared,’ crooned Miranda. ‘What’s the worst thing that could happen?’
I gritted my teeth. ‘We could die?’
Miranda sighed and stepped away from the edge. I felt relieved, until she came over to where I was standing and put an arm around my neck. It was too tight to be called a hug. It was more of a tackle. ‘It’s just a game, Olive,’ she said. ‘Please show me you’re not a coward. I can’t stand cowards.’
I found myself being led forward, step by step, until we were both standing balanced on the edge of the carport. I kept my eyes straight ahead, my body stiff.
Miranda stood beside me, her arm still wrapped around my neck. ‘Imagine how incredible it’d feel if we jumped,’ she said. ‘Flying through the air.’
‘Imagine how incredible it would feel being smashed to bits on the rocks.’ I spoke loudly, cynically. Trying to mask my fear.
But it was like Miranda had heard me say something completely different. ‘Shall we do it then?’ she said, like she was inviting me to another gig. Another party. ‘Together?’
I prised her fingers from my arm. ‘No.’
Miranda didn’t even look around as I backed away from the edge and climbed down, my arms and legs trembling. I looked up to see that she remained exactly where she was, silhouetted against the blackness, her arms stretched out to the sides.
‘It would be amazing,’ she sighed. ‘Just imagine – no more being held back by your past. No more guilt about what you did to your family. No more aching for dead best friends.’ Miranda sounded blissful. ‘Don’t tell me that you’re not tempted, Olive.’
‘Jumping off won’t fix anything,’ I said stonily.
‘Yes, it will. Of course it will.’
I watched her, feeling useless. If I’d had my phone I could’ve called someone. The police. Maybe if I yelled loud enough Oona would hear us – but that seemed unlikely. I considered climbing up again and pulling her back to safety. But what if she threw her weight forward and we spilled like a waterfall over the edge? The thought made me prickle all over.
‘Come on, Miranda,’ I pleaded. ‘Come down from there. You win, OK? You’ve got the most nerve.’
I didn’t really think she would listen, so it was a shock when she sprang back, ran lightly across the roof and swung herself over the edge. The safe edge.
‘How great was that?’ said Miranda, all twinkly-eyed with excitement.
I couldn’t look at her. Now that we were both on the ground again, the panic was being rapidly replaced by fury. ‘No, it wasn’t great.’
Miranda rolled her eyes. ‘God, Olive,’ she said. ‘I never meant for us to actually do it.’ She shook her head, pouting at me. ‘You used to have a sense of humour. I don’t know what’s happened to it recently.’
‘I’m going home,’ I said, not even bothering to disguise my revulsion and anger. Walking back alone in the dark was pretty unappealing, but staying was worse. I headed off, and was a few metres away when Miranda came running up behind me.
‘Is this yours?’ she said. ‘I found it in the taxi the other night.’ She was holding out my phone. When I took it from her I did something I hadn’t done for a long time. I avoided touching her skin.
I shoved the phone in my pocket and walked away without a word.
I couldn’t bring myself to take the shortcut through the forest. Once I was through the hole in Oona’s fence I followed it around to the main road and walked along that instead. By the time I arrived home it was past midnight – early by my recent standards – but my evening didn’t usually involve late-night hikes or near-death experiences on shaky carports. I was ready to drop. Perhaps this was why I didn’t notice the kitchen light was on. So I almost had a heart attack when the back door swung open and I saw Mum standing there, her arms folded.
‘Get inside,’ she said. ‘We need to talk.’
I walked past her, through to the kitchen, then over to the sink where I poured myself some water and drank it very slowly. ‘I’m stuffed,’ I said, putting the glass down. ‘Let’s talk tomorrow.’
‘No,’ said Mum. She sat at the kitchen table and pushed out one of the other chairs with her foot. I was used to her looking worried, but the anger was new. ‘I want to know what you’ve been up to.’
‘Well, during the day I’m at school,’ I said. ‘You know – the one you made me go back to even though I’m a total outcast there? And then some nights I’m here, looking after Toby because you’re working. And on the other nights I’m slaving away at the Mercury, which I have to do because it’s not like I get any pocket money and –’
‘Don’t be smart, Olive,’ said Mum tightly. ‘You know what I’m talking about.’ Her fingers thunked on the tabletop. �
��Sneaking out in the middle of the night is unacceptable, as is lying about it. So let me ask you again. What have you been up to tonight?’
Crumbs were spread across the tablecloth like a toast-coloured rash. I pressed hard on one with my thumb, feeling it dig in and then crumble. ‘I’ve been hanging out with Miranda.’
‘You were at her house?’ said Mum, looking relieved. Like somehow this was good news.
‘Yes.’
‘Was Oona there?’
I nodded. Oona probably had been there, somewhere. My chair scraped across the tiles. ‘Is that it? Can I go to bed now?’
‘No,’ said Mum. ‘I’m glad you’ve made a new friend, Olive. Truly I am. And I’m happy for you to spend time with Miranda. But I want you to promise me there’ll be no more sneaking out.’
To be honest it was kind of a relief to be ordered to take a break from the craziness of the last few months. Especially after what I’d been through that night. But I wasn’t about to let Mum know that.
‘OK,’ I said, sighing deeply. ‘I promise. No more sneaking out.’
‘I also want to have a family day,’ added Mum. ‘You, me and Tobes.’
I knew exactly what that family day would involve. Mum would make one of the same horrible cakes she always made and we would watch the same selection of boring movies we’d been watching for years.
‘That sounds great,’ I said.
‘Really?’ Mum looked like she wanted to believe me so much that it hurt my heart.
I nodded. ‘Really.’ And as I said it I found myself thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. Slothing around with Mum and Toby was pretty appealing just then.
‘Sure. I’m working Friday night – tonight – but I’ll stay home the rest of the weekend. I promise.’
Mum hugged me then – so tightly that it was actually kind of hard to inhale. ‘I’m so pleased,’ she said. ‘What type of cake should I make? Zucchini and poppyseed?’
