I didn’t know what had happened to me, but I was pretty sure that was enough of it for one night.
Twenty-Three: Avery
We’d been practising the whole me standing up for myself over the last couple of weeks with varying degrees of success. It was hard to overcome that feeling of hesitation I got that someone was going to not like me if I pushed back even a little.
It didn’t even have to be a very big push.
I’d successfully stood up for myself when my Art teacher said to me, “I’m off to lunch. Can you finish cleaning up before you go, Avery?” the same way she often did.
I’d been very proud of my replied, “Oh, me too. My area’s all clean. Looks like Faye and Rich left a bit of a mess though.”
Miss Burnett had looked at me in some confusion for a second, then nodded and said, “Great. Thanks. I’ll…uh…make sure they clean up next lesson.”
I’d nodded and skipped my way out to see Davin and he’d done his darnedest to not look impressed with my minor victory.
Some things were easier than others though.
When Nina had said she didn’t like Rose Byrne’s dress in some article that was floating around, I hadn’t disagreed with her even though I’d loved it. Davin had given me a very unimpressed look for that one since I’d been going on about it the night before.
When Kate was all about how long dresses for the formal were so early 2000s, even though about six people disagreed with her I couldn’t do it. I didn’t agree with her either, though. I’d just kept my mouth shut and shrugged when Molly asked me to back her up on the long dress team saying, “I don’t know. They’re both fine, I guess.”
Strangely with Molly and Krista, as it had always been with Blair, it was a bit easier to say what I wanted without worrying I’d cause an argument or they wouldn’t like me anymore. I wondered if that was because I hadn’t really known them until after the whole thing happened. I still felt weird disagreeing with them. But it was getting easier because all either of them did was argue with me good-naturedly and once I even changed Krista’s mind that peanut butter did totally belong with Vegemite.
I was trying to remember that I was allowed different opinions from my friends. I was allowed a voice and it mattered. And using that voice the right way wasn’t going to (shouldn’t) make people unhappy or dislike me.
At the formal committee meetings, I was still hesitant to push my own agenda when it seemed like no one (particularly Louise who was just mad that Mrs Mack had refused to let her have Forbidden Fairy-Tales as the theme) was interested in listening or someone told me – in any number of words – that whatever I said was a stupid idea.
Trina had asked my opinion on the colour scheme for the formal decorations after checking, “Your mum’s an interior designer, right?”
I’d nodded and started saying that, “Lighter colours will open the space. But if you want to make it feel closer–”
“Exactly,” she’d interrupted. “We need to go with the darker shades because we want intimacy. So I want that silver more gunmetal. I want the blues in the navies. I want the yellows to be deep golds. We want that red more maroon. And the green needs to be dark forest. The darkest forest you can get me.”
I’d tried to clarify with an, “Actually, you still want some–”
But Trina was done with my opinion as she ran away with what she was convinced was right. “Dark. Intimate. Promoting togetherness.” Then she’d glared at everyone like she was daring them to not promote togetherness.
I’d frowned and pretended to write the new orders down, but knew I was keeping some of the colours brighter. The committee had decided on mood lighting so we were at risk of people not even seeing half our hard work if we just dropped the brightness on everything. And I wasn’t working so hard for almost half the year to walk into a formal that… Well actually Davin and Ebony would feel right at home in – had Ebony been invited.
But I’d stuck to my guns and argued the benefits of having a bake sale at the school’s Winter Fair to raise money for said decorations and even gone prepared for resistance based on possible allergies kids might have. So it was I found myself proudly in charge of my first bake sale and had half the committee volunteering to help, while Trina told the other half they were also helping.
Louise butted in on my bake sale sign when I was fixing it up in the Common Room at Lunch one day, telling me, “We needed something edgier and less cheesy.”
And instead of reminding her that bake sales were supposed to have a certain sense of nostalgia and fun, I said nothing but, “I’ll see what I can do.”
Davin was in the Common Room with me and suggested, “She could steal the Metallica font and you could all paint your faces like Kiss.”
It was obvious neither of us really knew what he was talking about, particularly when Louise gave one of those fake laughs and said, “We still want class, Davin.”
Davin shrugged like it mattered little to him, levelled an apathetic stare at her and said, “Good luck with that.”
As I tried not to laugh, I ended up just doing my own thing with the sign behind her back. I even added extra squiggly writing to up the cheese factor, explaining to Davin that, “We want cheese.”
“I thought you were doing a sweet bake sale?”
I’d looked up and him in confusion.
“Not savoury,” he’d added.
I’d smiled. “Just you concentrate on re-coding the school’s screensaver–”
“Not a thing I do,” he’d interrupted.
“–or whatever it is and leave me to my corniness.”
He’d looked at me heatedly and nodded once. “You are the queen of corn, babe.”
By Friday Week Four, even Davin agreed I’d made progress but that I still had work to do. And it was made all the more obvious when Louise came up to me with a stack of papers.
“I need you to take these to the Principal’s PA for the formal budget,” she said and I looked down at them.
The office of the Principal’s PA – my good friend Mrs Hines – was literally on the way from the Common Room to practically any of the classes she might have after lunch.
“Louise, I–”
“I don’t have time and she needs them this afternoon. So I need you to take them.” She thrust them into my hand and I had no choice but to take them or let them fall on the floor. “Thanks, Avery. I knew I could count on you.”
She started walking away, but I stopped her. “Actually, you can’t. Not today.”
Louise turned to me slowly and there was the sort of smile on her face like she was hoping for my sake she’d herd wrong. “Sorry?”
“I’m happy to help you when I can, but now is not one of those times.” I faltered a little in the face of her astonishment, but I persevered. “It’s just as easy for you. You take them.”
I held the papers out to her again. She looked at them suspiciously, then turned that look on me for a moment.
“Okay…” she said slowly and I couldn’t quite tell if that was murder or growing respect in her eyes. “No. You’re right. Sure. Of course I can.”
“Great. Thanks.”
Louise took the papers back from me, looked down at them again and nodded. She cleared her throat. “By the way… You were right about the sign for the bake sale.”
I blinked. “I was?”
She nodded. “You were. Cheesy and cutesy is definitely the right choice.”
I smiled. “Oh. Well, thanks.”
She shrugged and looked up at me. “No worries.”
While I was on a roll, I thought I’d bring up the whole colour scheme thing. “I had a thought about the colours…” I started and she looked at me expectantly.
“What about them?”
“Well…I think Trina’s last decision might be a little…too dark. When I said darker, I didn’t quite mean–”
“You’re getting the fabrics and stuff from your mum, right?”
&n
bsp; I nodded. “Ye-es…”
“Cool. So what was this about darker?”
“The other day when we were talking about darker, I didn’t mean like indistinguishable darker… Especially in the light you’ve chosen. I just meant maybe a little bit of contrast.”
Louise nodded thoughtfully. “I trust your judgement. Go with your gut or whatever. I mean, stick to the colours. But shades and tones… Your call, Avery.” Her smile was warmer now.
I nodded, smiling back. “Sure. I won’t let you down.”
Louise laughed. “I know you won’t. You’re Avery.” But this time, the person saying that didn’t leave it hanging like I was a pushover. “You always come through for people. I admire that.” She waved the stack of papers at me. “I need to get these to Mrs Hines. I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, Louise.”
“Bye, Avery.”
As Louise left, I felt odd. I thought I’d feel happier, more victorious, more proud of myself. And I was proud of me for sanding my ground, but there was also something else in there as well. I started thinking something, but I hadn’t quite got to the fully formed section of my thought process yet.
Davin walked over to me with slightly more bounce in his step than he usually had and tried to look me in the eye.
“Avery?” he said, some real emotion showing through. And that emotion was excitement. “Babe, you did it! You did it, without batting an eyelid. You totally put her in her–”
I put a hand on his chest and he paused in confusion.
“Now I know I can, that’s the last time I do that,” I mused.
“Hang on…” Davin stepped back from me. “What?”
“The last time I do that. Now I know I can.” I felt my smile growing.
“I’m not following.”
“Next time I’ll probably just say yes.” I shrugged.
“What?” he asked. “Why?”
I cocked my head to the side, feeling a sense of settled in myself that I didn’t realise I’d been living without until I had it. “You know what, Davin?”
Panic hit his face for a split second, then he shook his head. “No. What?”
“I think I’m good.”
He blinked. “You’re good?”
I nodded.
“You’re good?”
I nodded again.
“Good as in okay? Or good as in…?”
I grinned wider. “Good.” I shrugged. “I’m a good girl.”
His confusion was understandable. “I’m really not following.”
“I could totally have taken the receipts to Mrs Nichol’s office for Louise. It wouldn’t have been a problem for me.”
“But… You weren’t required to. It’s no more difficult for her to do her own job.”
“Exactly. Which means it would have been no more difficult for me either.”
“She’s… She was trying to take advantage of you, Avery…” he said, but he sounded like he wasn’t sure about something.
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“I’m going to need you to explain how that’s okay.”
“Well. I agree about the whole reminding myself that my feelings are important and standing up for myself more. But otherwise,” I shrugged again, “why not do things for other people just because it’s kind and helpful? I’m happy with who I am. And if that’s too good, then consider me too good.”
“Okay…?”
“I know I can stand up for myself when I need to now and I’m not so scared that people will stop liking me because of it. But I don’t mind being helpful and kind, so I can do that when I want, too.”
“So… So what have we been doing this whole time?”
I thought about that. “Well, we started out with a plan and…it changed, it evolved, it did its own thing.”
“You don’t say,” Davin said not to me. Then he cleared his throat and looked me over. “So…are we…?” He coughed. “Are we done then?”
Oh. Um.
“I… Well, I still need a little help with the whole standing up for myself thing in…uh, in practice…” I said lamely, feeling my cheeks heating. “And you know… You’re so good at lighting my indignation.”
He nodded stiffly. “So… Not done?”
“Are you…bored?” I asked, wondering why it was so hot (and not in a good way) and awkward all of a sudden.
He shook his head and I noticed he wasn’t looking at me. “I’ve told you, I could never be bored with you–”
“Uncomfortable, yes. But bored, no,” I finished for him.
He breathed out heavily. “Exactly.”
I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “Do you…still want to be dating?”
“Do you?” he asked.
I paused before I answered only because I realised that I really didn’t want to be done with us. I really liked being with him and I was starting to think that it was more than just the benefits of him showing me how to be not good, which seems to have actually been him actually just showing me how to let myself acknowledge I was allowed to be respected.
Nothing about this experiment appeared to have gone to plan.
I’d wanted to be not good and ended up just realising that I actually quite like me, that I was okay with being good.
I’d thought Davin was just going to be my mistake. The bad boy I’d dated in my teens. A time I looked back on fondly, but moved on from quite happily and easily.
Only, now we were talking about the possibility of ending it, it felt like nothing about him had been a mistake. I didn’t understand it and I didn’t think it really mattered why. I just knew that I didn’t want it to end.
But I wasn’t sure what he wanted and he wasn’t exactly the touchy-feely, let’s talk about – or even acknowledge – our emotions kind of guy. Although the fact he’d not actually definitively answered my question suggested that he wasn’t thinking ‘yes’.
Suddenly all the pride and happiness I’d felt on finally being okay with me vanished and I was left feeling weird and insecure.
“I mean… You could help me practise?” I said, sounding totally idiotic.
He ran his tongue over his teeth as he looked me over and I couldn’t get a read on his expression. It was like he’d totally shut down, back to that completely stony-faced guy I’d pestered until he’d agreed to one date.
“Help you practise?” he repeated. He nodded once. “From what I saw, you don’t need any more practise. Especially if you don’t actually plan to use it.”
“Oh… Uh. Okay. No worries. No, I get it. Sure.”
“I think we can call that social experiment concluded then. Don’t you?”
My heart beat feebly and I had to bite my lip to stop it trembling as I nodded. Once I had a little more control over my lip and my vocal chords, I said, “No. Sure. Of course. I mean, mission accomplished. Sort of.”
“In the absolute loosest sense of the word, maybe.”
I nodded, if only to pretend I was still that upbeat, positive girl whose heart wasn’t currently crumbling to pieces. “Good. Well thanks, Davin. I appreciate everything you did for me.”
He shrugged. “It provided a temporary alleviation of tedium.”
The obvious disdain in his voice told me everything I needed to know. Nothing about this had ever been more than my experiment to him. He’d played his role and he’d played it well, he’d played it the way I’d asked him too.
“Of course. Well, I’ll let you get back to your quiet existence, then. You can be as prickly as you like now.”
He looked at me in condescension. “All I was waiting for was your permission,” he said, his tone dripping that annoyed, sugary sarcasm I hadn’t heard him use on me in a long time.
My throat threatened to close on me, but I plastered on a smile. “So I guess that’s that. I’ll talk to you later then, Davin.”
His eyebrow rose slightly. “No. I’m actually all good on that. Thanks, th
ough.” He gave me a patronising bow of his head, picked up his bag and walked away.
I stood strong until he was gone, smiling at the other kids in the Common Room who looked at me in passing interest. Once he’d disappeared, I hurried as unsuspiciously as possible to the bathroom. I locked myself in one of the stalls and let the tears fall.
Maybe I wasn’t going to look back on it and think of Davin as my mistake after all. But I was already realising that letting myself fall for him had been the biggest mistake of all.
I wasn’t sure how far I’d fallen for him and I didn’t want to work it out now it was over. All I knew was that I thought I was in love with Miles when he dumped me, but that hadn’t hurt nearly as much as watching Davin walk away.
Twenty-Four: Davin
“So it’s over.”
The tortuous torment of that unflappable tyrant’s social experiment was over and I was a free man again. No more dates. No more forced socialisation. No more being doused in annoying buoyancy constantly. No more early morning text messages. No more kisses I wish would never end.
“Wait no.” I cleared my throat. “She was sexy. So what? It’s not like she was the only girl in the world who could inspire me to get hard.”
Nate had started turning up for dinner at Gran’s with annoying frequency since Avery and I went our separate ways. He told me that his friends had missed me since Vinny’s party, but I’d been busy with Avery and they’d served their narrative function. It seemed I had Gran to myself that night though, what with it being a night Dad was home.
“I can see my grandmother when my father’s home without it meaning anything.”
I pulled the bag with Flint’s tuna off the passenger seat and dragged myself inside.
“Davin?”
“Yeah?” I replied.
As had become the disturbing norm, Flint popped his head out of the kitchen, then looked at me with complete scorn at the lack of Avery with me, and flounced off.
“You met her once, you little shit,” I muttered as I put his tuna cans away.
“And how will I be lulled into just letting anyone walk into my house if you assure me it’s you?” Gran asked as she walked into the kitchen.
Being Not Good: as opposed to being bad Page 25
