Summer Skin

by Kirsty Eagar

  ‘Right,’ Jess said slowly, narrowing her eyes. She shook her head and focused on Davey. ‘Tell me what guys do in this situation. I want to be like that. You wouldn’t mope. You wouldn’t give a toss. You’d probably just slap yourself on the back, readjust your tackle, and say, “Well played, brah,” and … And what? What would you do?’

  Davey, in a voice that was deeper than normal, said, ‘I’d take my mind off it. Go play touch footy with the guys or something.’

  Farren snorted. ‘Okay, he’s full of shit, and you’re sexist. The person you should be asking that question of is me. Because, after we got together for the first time, Davey followed me around with his tongue out, making whining noises and looking pathetic. He even sent me a text asking if we could do it again with—get this—multiple-choice answers.’

  For the second time that morning, Davey looked sheepish. His shoulder twitched. ‘You didn’t have to say the bit about it being multiple choice.’

  Jess squashed a smile. ‘Okay, tough guy,’ she said to Farren. ‘What’d you do then?’

  Farren stretched luxuriously, giving Jess a high-wattage grin. ‘I played a lot of P!nk. And I felt fucking good.’

  Jess gasped, one hand pressed to her chest. ‘You like P!nk?’

  ‘Girl, I’m from Cairns. Of course I like P!nk.’

  Jess shifted position so she was kneeling, reaching out to grasp Farren’s hand. ‘I never knew. I mean, you’re so cool and—’

  ‘Seriously, I’m a fish on a bicycle,’ grumbled Davey.

  ‘Shush,’ both girls told him sharply.

  ‘I like P!nk,’ Jess told Farren, her voice full of feeling. ‘I’m from Rockhampton.’

  They stared at each other, simultaneous smiles blooming on their faces.

  ‘Oh, my God,’ Davey squealed, waving his hands. ‘It’s like you’re meant to be.’

  •

  Which was how Jess came to be pounding her way around Sir William MacGregor Drive at eight-thirty in the morning with an iPod borrowed from Farren. She only planned on doing four kilometres, but she was struggling by the halfway point, her breathing laboured, unable to find the groove she normally slid into after the first five minutes. It was far too early for a start, and to top it off, the day was hot and humid.

  But no matter how bad Jess felt during a run, at some point she always committed to trying to beat her best time, and that morning was no exception. In fact, it became a point of pride. She went all out, using her usual mind games to do it: for some unspecified reason she actually was Flash Gordon, saviour of the universe—the female version—and, for some other unspecified reason, she had to complete the third kilometre in four minutes, or everything was doomed. And then she was down to the last kilometre, heavy-legged, exhausted, but the music helped her lift. For a fleeting moment, she glimpsed Mitch in among the cheering crowds at the finishing line, hoping she would save them all … but then she changed her mind, wiping him out of the scene altogether, deciding he could watch her on the news instead.

  Consequently, on a stinking hot day, in the morning no less, as scratchy-eyed and tired as she was, Jess Gordon broke her own four-kilometre record. And maybe it was the endorphins, or it might have been the P!nk, but when she pulled up, dripping with sweat, spaghetti-legged, hands on her head to let more air into her burning lungs, she felt fucking good.

  She felt like she’d just saved herself.

  CHAPTER 21

  CLOSER

  ‘Honestly, these freshers,’ Farren complained when she finally returned to Jess, Allie and Leanne on the RE’s balcony, bearing a fresh jug of beer. She plucked the cigarette out from behind Jess’s ear, and threw it over the railing, ignoring her protests. ‘Just had a little chat with a girl who’s been here for exactly one term and informs me she’ll be running for council next year.’ She refilled the girls’ glasses and then her own. ‘Is there anything more ridiculous than a political animal?’

  ‘Is that a rhetorical question?’ Jess asked, eyebrows raised. ‘Madam President.’

  ‘Excuse me, I’m there in service, not for status. I don’t object to people wanting responsibility, but I do object to them wanting power.’ Farren placed the jug at her feet. ‘When I asked her why, she said, and I quote, “I just think it’d be cool”. Honestly. Makes me want to stick around.’

  Jess glanced at Leanne and Allie, but they hadn’t clocked it. Leanne was doing a sly pour over the balcony rail, Allie watching on, giggling. ‘What did you just say?’ Jess asked Farren sharply. ‘The last bit.’

  ‘That’ll make it grow!’ Allie called to someone below. She and Leanne turned their attention back to Farren and Jess. ‘Bald,’ Allie explained, tapping her head.

  Farren sipped her beer, then wiped foam off her top lip. ‘What?’ she asked Jess defensively. ‘Don’t you ever fantasise about moving out?’

  ‘You mean, like, doing your own shopping and cooking and cleaning and paying electricity bills and stuff?’ Leanne asked. ‘Growing up?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Nuh,’ Leanne said, shaking her head.

  ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Farren said to Jess.

  ‘I’m not looking at you like anything. You must be feeling guilty.’

  ‘I’ve got to get my GPA up if I want to get into the honours course, and I’m not like you, Jess. You can work and go out and day trade and just cram for exams, and you still pull sixes and sevens. I’ve got to study consistently. But being president is taking a lot of time, and I’ve already decided I’m not doing it next year. It’s on my CV now. But if I stay at Unity, and my replacement does a shitty job …’

  ‘So much for loyalty.’

  ‘Excuse me, but I haven’t decided yet, and if I do decide to go, who’s the first person I’d ask to go with me?’

  Jess stared at Farren, feeling even more uneasy, like everything in her world had just shifted three degrees off centre.

  ‘Enjoy the suburbs,’ Leanne told her with a grin.

  ‘Don’t fight, darlings,’ Allie scolded. ‘Here, let’s drink to me, instead.’ The four of them held up their glasses and clinked. ‘To me,’ Allie said, so brightly Jess nearly made it to a smile, because when Allie was on form she couldn’t be bettered, and for some reason she was really on form that night. Allie held up her phone to catch the occasion, and Jess, knowing it’d be on Instagram later, asked not to be tagged, not wanting to elicit more comments from the knights.

  Before Allie could load it, Leanne pinched her arm. ‘Ouch!’

  ‘Well, tell them.’

  ‘I got an internship,’ Allie said, rubbing her arm, reticent and proud at the same time. ‘Two weeks in the mid-year break. It’s this company who are developing a software package to teach kids languages. There are heaps of educational benefits to learning a language, and they’re bundling it with voice recognition … Anyway, the market will be huge if they can get it right. I mean, it’s not off the ground yet. But they just got some venture capital funding and they’ve done other stuff, so …’ She smiled, hunching her shoulders. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Hey, yeah!’ Farren said, giving her a high-five.

  ‘You’re going to be in a start-up,’ Jess breathed. ‘You’ll probably end up working for them and getting shares in the company, and then you’ll make a killing when they go public. You’ll keep me in the loop, right?’ Allie laughed and agreed, and Leanne beamed like a proud parent until she noticed Jess watching her, at which point she slouched and looked nonchalant.

  ‘Thanks for the support, lovelies.’ Allie downed the rest of her drink. ‘Don’t wait up, okay?’ She kissed Leanne on the forehead, and then she left.

  Farren licked her thumb and rubbed the lipstick off Leanne’s forehead. Leanne, surprisingly, submitted.

  •

  After that, Jess ignored Farren. And Farren didn’t call Jess on it like she normally would have. So Leanne got to play piggy in the middle, the three of them staring out at the crowd, their elbows resting on the railing. Jess wa
s very careful not to look at Mitch—she’d spotted him not long after they’d first taken up position on the balcony. Instead, like Farren and Leanne, she watched Allie making a beeline towards Michael Azzopardi, who was standing with a couple of Unity third-years near the DJ’s hut, his arm slung around his best mate Duane’s shoulders. The group of guys seemed to be recounting something, all of them shouting to be heard, their eyes glazed, their grins slobbery, the beer jugs they clutched in their free hands angled in a way that meant they were nearly, but not quite, about to spill. First Sunday night back from mid-term break and even the air was amber-hued.

  ‘What’s Mikey like in council?’ Leanne asked.

  Farren gave a sudden laugh. ‘I thought you were going to ask what he’s like in bed. He’s actually really good. Takes it seriously. Gets things done without me having to ask—not like some of the other tourists.’

  ‘What’s Mikey like in bed?’ Leanne asked.

  Farren snorted. ‘Not as good as he is in council.’ She topped up their glasses. ‘Do you know he told me once that I was too sure of myself? This came with care, right? He was looking out for me. He said that if I wanted to be more attractive to the dudes, I should stop acting like I was all that. And I said, that’s funny, because the dudes have been lining up to take your place.’ Jess burst into laughter, then remembered she was ignoring Farren.

  ‘That guy,’ Leanne said fondly. ‘You’re an only child.’

  Now, Michael and Duane sandwiched Allie, looking down at her in a way that was warm, covetous even, but that made it clear she wasn’t one of them. Unwittingly, Jess remembered the photograph of Julian and Mitch that she’d saved to her hard drive. Had they talked about the girls they’d been with? Shared conquests? Of course they would have.

  Why was that thought so acidic? Girls talked, too. All the time. And yet … Whatever the difference was, it was the reason she’d always been so careful. But nobody else seemed to care. It made Jess feel lonely, like she was a freak, crippled by the pointless urge to knock up against someone and feel something real. And what confused her still, was that for a second there, she could have sworn she’d seen the same thing in Mitch. Only then did Jess realise it might have been something different entirely: the antidote.

  Wanting the answer, she allowed herself another look at him. Mitch clocked it, his eyes locking with hers for far too long, inducing a heady rush, and the growing certainty that a second time-out was very much on offer, if she wanted it. Farren and Leanne didn’t notice. Mitch was standing with a group of guys on the car-park side of the beer garden, and none of them noticed either, not even when he put his arms out—telling her, Jess presumed, that he’d catch her if the railing gave way. Dud was with him, and a couple of others who’d been on the bus that night, but not Tipene.

  ‘Do you judge a guy by his friends?’ she asked abruptly, interrupting Farren and Leanne’s conversation.

  ‘Only if they make him feel like he has to choose,’ Farren said. She must have assumed they were still on Mikey, because she added, ‘Duane’s as dumb as rope, but he’s okay. He’s not like that.’

  Jess flicked her Zippo on and stared at the flame. The DJ was playing Tegan and Sara, who sang that it wasn’t just physical. Jess, on the other hand, hoped desperately that it was.

  Leanne nudged her, holding up her empty glass. ‘Next round’s yours, Smiley.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s what I thought.’ Jess snapped her Zippo shut. ‘Wish me luck.’

  •

  Downstairs, Jess hovered in front of the cigarette vending machine, not far from the spot where she and Mitch had talked once before—surely the logical place for a rendezvous? Maybe he hadn’t noticed that she’d left the balcony yet. When she passed the point where you’d normally stop dithering and make a purchase, she paid a visit to the Ladies’ instead, joining the queue. Oddly, for such a busy night, the bathroom was empty when she emerged from her cubicle, and she was grateful for the moment of peace.

  Her reflection stared back at her with a face full of doubt. ‘What?’ Jess demanded. But still she didn’t move. What was she waiting for? A sign?

  The door swung open, making her jump, and she did a double-take. Sylvie, on the other hand, seemed expectant, which suggested it wasn’t a chance encounter.

  ‘Hey,’ Sylvie said, her voice aspartame-sweet.

  ‘H-eyy.’ Jess strangled the word so badly she coughed and tried again. ‘Hey.’

  Sylvie clip-clopped to the wash basins, and blinked at herself in the mirror, mouth slightly open, showing the tip of her tongue and sharp little teeth. She took a tub of lip gloss out of her fringed shoulder bag and popped the lid, offering it to Jess.

  ‘Oh no, I’m cool, thanks. It’s Jess, by the way.’

  ‘I know.’ Sylvie widened her eyes, dabbing on gloss. ‘My hero.’

  Flustered, Jess washed her hands, glancing in the mirror again as she turned off the tap. Sylvie had thin lips, she noticed—not in a bitchy way, more looking for clues. What made you want to watch this girl? Her halter-neck dress exposed the swell of her breasts, but she pulled it off without looking desperate because she was so delicate; it wasn’t a dress so much as wrapping paper.

  ‘Your eyes are warmer,’ Sylvie said. ‘Good hair, too.’

  ‘Sorry?’ Jess asked, startled.

  Sylvie looked Jess over: cowboy boots, jeans, black raglan tee, shiny big-buckled belt. ‘And you’ve got style, grunge cowgirl.’

  ‘Not really,’ Jess assured her. ‘I’m just easily bored.’

  ‘If I wore those boots I’d look like a munchkin. I want your legs.’

  ‘I wasn’t comparing!’ Jess said, with an abashed smile. ‘Just staring. You’re stunning.’

  ‘And there’s the big money,’ Sylvie said, thoughtfully. ‘The smile.’

  Jess laughed, embarrassed, looking from Sylvie’s reflection to her own, and just for a second she saw what Sylvie meant. Somehow, the humour and light in her hazel eyes, the kindness in her face, her vibrancy, rendered Sylvie’s perfect symmetry irrelevant. She could even see why Mitch had called her a glamour.

  Then she grew still. Were Sylvie’s eyes watering? As though wanting to hide, Sylvie leaned forwards until her nose nearly touched the mirror, and she huffed on the glass to fog it up.

  ‘Anyway,’ Jess said, feeling like she was intruding, ‘I’d better, um …’

  ‘Can I touch you?’ Sylvie asked. She looked sideways at Jess, smiled at her shock. ‘Did he say that to you? On the night of the toga party?’

  Jess licked her lips nervously. ‘How did you know?’ she asked, and she might have sounded normal but her mind was a traffic jam.

  Sylvie’s laugh was high and resonant; a knife tinging crystal. ‘He says it to everybody.’ She wiped the mirror clean with her hand. ‘Julian used it, too.’

  ‘Nothing happened.’ Jess licked her lips again. ‘It was just a college thing.’

  ‘You were taking him down.’ Sylvie said, nodding. The warmth on her face faded and she seemed to turn inwards, staring at Jess without really seeing her. She looked waxy, like a doll, not a person. Her eyes were a clear pale green. ‘If he’s not careful, I’ll do it myself one of these days.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Jess asked, and Sylvie blinked.

  ‘Don’t worry about it.’ The look Sylvie gave Jess wasn’t unkind, but it did suggest she was clueless.

  ‘Did you find out about Depper Street?’ Jess asked. ‘Is that what happened?’

  Sylvie frowned. ‘Depper Street? What happened on Depper Street?’

  Jess backed off, realising she’d blundered. ‘Nobody—I mean, nothing. I was confusing you with someone else.’

  ‘Ooh, intrigue.’ Sylvie said playfully. ‘Want to know a secret? I am someone else. Nobody knows the real me.’

  Jess opened the door, sick of being toyed with, wanting to get away. Her voice was flat. ‘You’re a girl. It’s the same for all of us.’

  •

  Mitch was outside, waiting
in the same spot where they’d talked to each other back when he’d had pink hair. When he saw Jess, his eyes sparked and he stepped forwards, about to say something. ‘I can’t talk to you,’ she said, cutting him off. ‘I just saw Sylvie in the bathroom and she’ll be out in a minute. I don’t want her to see us together.’

  ‘Sylvie?’ Mitch’s face was blank. The shock he felt was in his voice. ‘What’d she say?’ When Jess tried to push past him, he gripped her arm—too hard.

  ‘Ow. Don’t!’ Jess shook him off. ‘I’ve got to go.’

  ‘Well, meet me in the car park then. I’ve got my brother’s car. You can’t leave things like that. Just talk to me. Please,’ he begged.

  Jess met his eyes, and when she did she couldn’t look away. She’d never seen Mitch like that before. Worried. No, stressed.

  ‘Okay?’ he asked.

  ‘Okay,’ she said.

  CHAPTER 22

  LOVERS IN THE PARKING LOT

  Mitch inserted the key into the ignition of his brother’s silver Mazda6 so he could wind down the windows. Solange honeyed out from the stereo, momentarily overriding the rumble coming from the RE. Then they were back to stewing in silence.

  ‘Have you told them about us?’ Jess burst out.

  ‘No. No. You know what I swore on. Why?’ When she didn’t answer, Mitch said, ‘I’m not going to wait it out, Jess. Just tell me what’s going on.’ He sounded nervy, on edge, not at all like himself. As if aware of it, he spoke more slowly. ‘Can you put me out of my misery?’

  So Jess told him what had happened in the bathroom with Sylvie, staring through the windscreen, her voice clipped. ‘And the thing is, I felt so guilty. Like, any second she was going to work out what was going on. Between you and me, I mean.’ She glanced at him. ‘She already hates your guts, but I didn’t want her to hate me.’

  ‘Hang on. You think I was involved with her?’ Mitch gave a disbelieving laugh.

  ‘That’s why you were happy to keep this quiet, isn’t it?’

  ‘Fuuuuuuuck.’ Mitch tipped his seat back until it was nearly flat, staring up at the car’s roof. When he finally spoke, his tone was completely different. Calm. Patient, even. ‘Jess, do you even know who Sylvie is?’