by Penni Russon
As I walked back towards Kayla and Sooz, I saw Ivan coming towards me.
‘You okay?’ he asked.
After yesterday I kind of wanted to tell him about the message but Sooz and Kayla were waiting for me.
‘I’m fine,’ I said, glancing over at them.
‘I see your friends are here.’
I nodded. I knew he thought my friends were shallow. Did he think I was too?
‘Tilly’s back from the hospital,’ I told him.
‘Oh. Good. Good.’ He didn’t exactly gush, but I could tell he didn’t think Tilly was shallow.
I got back to the beach path, where Kayla and Sooz were waiting for me.
Over lattes Kayla and Sooz talked about some club they’d both been to in Melbourne, gushed over the cute guy in Alder Springs who gave Kayla a massage, and bitched about Ashley, who was going out with Kayla’s ex-boyfriend. I stared out the window. I didn’t care about Ashley. She was all right. Anyway, Kayla had broken up with Danny in Year 9 before boyfriends even counted. I guess it was all just regular gossip, but for some reason it bored me even more than usual. I missed Tilly.
Kayla got up to go to the toilet. Sooz and I looked at each other.
‘So what have you been doing all summer?’
I knew Sooz wouldn’t understand the night surfing. None of them would. They’d think it was weird. Dangerous and stupid. They’d think it was like that time one of the emo girls at school got caught in the toilets carving ‘no life’ into her arm with a razor and got suspended for bringing a weapon to school. Why doesn’t anyone know what to do with unhappy people?
My phone chimed. I’d received another text message. Sooz looked at me expectantly. I looked down at the table.
‘Aren’t you going to check that?’ Sooz asked me.
‘No.’
‘Wow. I just don’t have that kind of willpower. I have to check text messages the second they arrive.’ Sooz tilted her head and studied me. ‘Is something going on with you, Zara?’
‘No.’
‘You just . . . well, you haven’t been yourself. We’ve all noticed. We’ve hardly seen you since school finished. You’re screening calls, not answering your messages.’
Kayla came back. She looked from me to Sooz.
‘It’s nothing,’ I said to Sooz.
‘What’s nothing?’ Kayla asked.
‘Zara just got a text message.’
‘Who from?’ Kayla asked.
‘I don’t know,’ I told her.
‘You don’t know? Oh, that’s so weird,’ Kayla said, her face twisting with sympathy.
Sooz laughed. ‘It’s not that weird. Zara just didn’t check it yet. See, Zara, normal people read their messages.’
I looked at Kayla. Our eyes met briefly and she looked away.
And that was when I knew it was Kayla. I knew that if I checked my phone the new message would be from Number Withheld, sent while she was in the toilets. I knew that if I demanded to see her phone, I’d be able to prove that she’d lied, that her batteries were just fine. A flood of euphoric relief swept through me. I was right. All the power of Number Withheld had been in the withholding of identity. Now I knew it was Kayla, the messages themselves meant nothing. They couldn’t hurt me.
I kept looking at her, I refused to look away. She was caught out, and she knew it. The colour had drained from her face as she read and reread the blackboard of specials on the wall. But why? What had I ever done to her? She glanced back at me and this time she held my gaze. I saw a mix of emotions on her face. She looked ashamed, embarrassed to be caught out. But I also saw a set in her jaw – she was angry with me. But the loathing in her eyes wasn’t just for me. It was herself she hated. It was probably Marcus too, mixed up with love, or whatever it was she’d felt for him as she’d given him what he wanted. I thought about the message I’d received from him the other day. Kayla had probably gone all the way with him, but he didn’t want Kayla. Her eyes slid away again. I glanced down at the table. A smile tugged the corners of my mouth.
After that, the day was different. I was different. The tables had turned and I found I could be gracious, even friendly. Kayla’s face was dark as she lagged slightly behind us walking through the town towards the golf club. Sooz prattled, encouraged by my newfound good humour, oblivious to the altered mood between Kayla and me.
Chapter Eighteen
Tilly
That night Mum and Dad decided to take me out for dinner, to the golf club. I went along, half hoping I’d see Sawyer, half hoping I wouldn’t. It hadn’t been a bad day in the end. Ivan had sat with me most of the morning and into the afternoon. He seemed to loosen up a bit around me and my dad. I mean, he was still retentive and everything. But we did the crossword together, the three of us, and Ivan even cracked a few jokes.
‘Are you, like, being funny?’ I asked him. ‘Because I’ve got medication for that. I’ve got medication for everything.’
‘I wouldn’t stand for that if I were you,’ Dad said to Ivan.
‘It’s all right, Professor Dove. I think Tilly’s just talking to herself again. Maybe it’s time for her pill.’
See what I mean?
‘There’s Zarsparilla,’ Teddy said, pointing across the restaurant.
Zara was there with her friends, Sooz and Kayla. Shoes and Paler, Ivan called them. One of the girls’ parents was with them too, they were all sipping champagne, even the girls. Zara caught my eye and waved. I waved back, but I got the distinct impression that now her real friends were here she didn’t want me around.
Then Mum nudged me. ‘There’s your friend.’
‘Zara?’
‘No. Your other friend.’
Sawyer was waiting on Zara’s table. ‘Oh. Well, I don’t know if he is still my friend.’ I could see Paler simpering up at him. He turned and caught me looking at him. I wanted to hide. I knew everything I was feeling was probably written all over my face in fluorescent ink, but I refused to let myself look away. He winked. I winked back. He stopped and did a little theatrical double take. He looked over one shoulder and then the other and then pointed to himself with this quizzical expression. I just grinned, then crossed my eyes.
I turned to Mum. ‘We’re still friends,’ I said. I felt like I might burst.
‘Kissing friends?’ Teddy asked.
‘Excuse me!’ I said. ‘When I was your age I didn’t know anything about kissing. I didn’t even know kissing existed.’
‘You did so,’ Teddy said.
‘Tilly?’
I looked up. It was Zara.
‘We’re going to hang out on the couches for a while,’ she said. ‘Want to join us?’
I looked at Mum. She nodded. ‘Go on.’
‘Doesn’t your family hate me?’ Zara asked as we walked towards her friends.
‘No,’ I said, surprised. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Tilly, I’m sorry.’
‘It’s fine,’ I said. Fine was such a nothing word. But I didn’t feel like I could really talk with Sooz and Kayla sitting right there, waiting for us.
Zara stopped, grabbing my arm so I stopped too. She looked deep into my eyes, and said, seriously, ‘Tilly, I mean it. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for taking you with me. I’m sorry for leaving you behind. For not visiting at the hospital. I almost got you killed.’
In a small voice I said, ‘I don’t want you to be sorry for taking me. I’m sorry I ruined it.’
‘No, you didn’t.’
I didn’t answer, I looked away, blinking back threatening tears.
‘You didn’t, Tilly. It was too dangerous.’
‘Not for you,’ I protested.
‘For me too. It could just as easily have been me as you.’ We both had tears in our eyes now.
Her friend, Sooz, called out, ‘You two look very serious.’
‘Sorry,’ Zara said. We went over and sat down on the couches with them.
‘I love your hair,’ Sooz said, genuinely.
&
nbsp; I smiled, a little thinly. Actually, I loved it too now. It felt right for me, even if it was dramatic. Maybe I liked the drama. But I was sort of sick of talking about it.
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘It was Zara’s idea.’
I was getting a vague glimmer of what it must be like to be Zara. The amount of people who commented on my hair, it was as if it was the most immediate, most important thing about me. They saw the haircut and thought that was who I was. For Zara, more so, because it was more than just a haircut, they were looking at a whole package – hair, face, body, clothes. She was like those rockstars: all people saw was the outside, this impossible-to-maintain perfection, as if nothing else about her mattered.
‘Ooh, check him out,’ Kayla said with cat-like vowels, not acknowledging me at all. Her eyes were following Sawyer around the room. ‘He’s so hot.’
‘You’re out of luck,’ Zara said. ‘He’s only got eyes for Tilly.’
I tried to blush modestly. I’m sure I failed.
‘Seriously?’ Kayla said, with her eyebrows raised disbelievingly. Could she be more of a cow? ‘But you’re not, like, actually an item?’
‘Actually,’ Zara said, ‘haven’t you already got a boyfriend? As in my boyfriend? Not that we’re actually an item anymore.’
Kayla looked paler (ha ha). Sooz looked uncomfortable. I guess she knew what Zara was talking about, even if I didn’t.
‘Hey, look, don’t worry about it, Kayla,’ Zara said. ‘You’re welcome to each other. But there is one thing.’
‘What?’ Kayla asked, sulkily.
‘Well, do you think I should check that text message now? Or should I delete it?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘’Cause, see, I was thinking it might be evidence. I mean my dad’s a cop. Tilly’s dad is a law professor. I was sort of thinking that one of them might know about SMS and stalking laws. I’m pretty sure it’s illegal.’
‘Stalking?’ Sooz said. She looked at Kayla then back to Zara. Then she looked at me, questioningly.
I still had no idea what Zara was talking about, but I chimed in. ‘Oh, you should definitely keep it. It’s evidence.’
‘Well, whoever sent it withheld the number to conceal their identity,’ Zara said, looking at me. Kayla looked like she wanted to crawl into the crack between the couch cushions.
‘Oh, they can totally trace it,’ I said, though I had no idea if it was true or not. But I added for good measure, ‘Ask my dad. He wrote the course about technology and the law.’
Zara nodded. ‘I’ll do that.’
‘You could join us for dinner now, if you want,’ I offered. ‘I mean, if you wanted to ask him about it.’
‘Yeah, thanks,’ Zara said. ‘I think I do. Kayla, you’ll explain to your parents, won’t you? Sooz, see you later. I guess you’ll get Kayla’s side of the story, whatever that ends up being.’
‘It’s not my fault you can’t take a joke,’ Kayla said.
Zara turned her back on Kayla and Sooz. We walked over towards our table.
‘Well,’ said Zara, smiling weakly. ‘I think I just lost all my friends.’
‘Are you sure you want to come and sit with us? You could go back and . . .’
‘Are you kidding?’
‘Why didn’t you tell me you were getting text messages?’
Zara shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’m not used to . . . talking about stuff.’ She rolled her eyes and said, ‘It’s the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy.’
‘I don’t know what that is.’
‘It’s this thing of my mum’s, about not telling people your secrets. You know, in case they use them against you. It’s probably kind of stupid.’
‘It sounds lonely, Zara.’ For the first time, I actually felt sorry for Zara’s mum. Did she still live by that rule? My mum and dad were best friends. They told each other everything. Keeping all your secrets sealed up inside you . . . it sounded seriously painful to me. I mean, I know I’m a total blabbermouth. I’ll never be a mystery wrapped in an enigma. I’ll never be Zara. But who wants to be? Not even Zara wanted to be Zara, as far as I could tell.
‘Zara, there is one more thing.’
‘Yeah?’
‘My dad teaches politics. Not law.’
‘Oh. Do we have to tell Kayla that?’
I nudged her. ‘Your secret’s safe with me.’
We got back to our table. Zara looked kind of shy, she hung back.
‘Can Zara eat with us?’ I asked.
‘Yay!’ Teddy said. Dad shifted his chair around to make room, then pulled an empty chair over from a neighbouring table.
‘I need to tell the waiter to serve my food over here,’ Zara said, though she sat down.
‘The waiter, you say?’ Mum asked. ‘Hmm.’
They were all looking at me.
‘All right,’ I said. ‘I get the hint.’ I pushed my chair back and stood up. Sawyer was standing at the till writing up someone’s bill. I waited for him.
‘Hi,’ he said, when he was finished.
‘Hi.’
‘Can I help you?’
‘I have a message for you,’ I said. I was trying to forget all the other people in the restaurant, watching me.
He stepped closer to me. His face was right there, above mine. Everyone else in the room instantly vanished.
‘Yes?’ he asked.
‘Um, Zara’s going to eat at our table.’
‘The girl’s actually got some taste.’
‘So you need to, um, change the order.’
‘Okay.’ He was staring right into my eyes. ‘It’ll cost you,’ he said.
‘Oh yeah, we’ll pay for her food.’
‘Not that! I mean it will cost you.’
‘Oh. Oh. You mean kissing, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’ He laughed. ‘I mean kissing.’
‘My parents are right there.’
‘So? I’m at work.’
‘I never kissed a boy before. I mean, before you.’
‘Really?’ Sawyer said, uncaringly as I leaned towards him.
In the interests of being totally honest, I said, ‘Well, there was this one time . . .’
‘Tilly, shut up.’
It was short. (He was at work, and my parents were right there.) But it was extremely sweet.
Chapter Nineteen
Zara
After dinner, Tilly’s parents left with Teddy. I waited by the restaurant windows as Tilly said goodbye to Sawyer so we could walk back together. Sooz came over to say goodbye, while Kayla waited at the door, her face stony.
I looked out at the surf, lit up by the club floodlights.
The sun had just set and the sky was a totally mellow shade of navy blue fading to a pale line at the horizon. A few stars already glinted. I could feel an ache inside me. I wanted to be there, under that night sky. I felt guilty for wanting it after everything that had happened, but I couldn’t make the feeling go away.
‘Hey, Zara.’
I turned around. It was Chris, the guy who’d taught Mieke, Tilly and me to surf, those long summers ago. It seemed a distant time now, but having Chris standing next to me brought it back in a rush, the innocence of the waves.
‘How’s my star pupil?’ he asked.
‘Okay.’ And I knew I would be. Okay, that is. But I kept my eyes on that dark-reaching ocean.
‘Hear you’ve been doing a bit of soul-surfing.’ I looked at him. He flashed a sheepish grin. ‘That’s what I call it. Out there at night, under the stars. Best time to surf, doing it by heart, using your gut. No crowds, no one dropping in . . . just pure stoke.’
‘But isn’t it too dangerous?’ I asked.
Chris didn’t even look at me as he answered with certainty. He was looking into that same ocean. What did he see? ‘It’s totally dangerous. There’s consequences. But you know that. That’s why we do it, right?’
Maybe some risks – calculated risks – were okay, were worth taking. Some weren’t, for sure
. Like getting in the car with Lochie, that was stupid. Not only that, it wasn’t me, or who I wanted Zara Sutherland to be. I didn’t want to be in the passenger seat. I wanted to be behind the wheel. But maybe it was okay, sometimes, to test the limits of yourself, to push your boundaries. After all, when you were right there, out in it, skimming the edge of the sky, that was when you knew you were alive. That was when I knew life was worth living.
Tilly came up and pushed an arm through mine. ‘Ready?’ she said.
I looked up, smiling goodbye. But Chris had gone.
‘Ready,’ I said. And together we walked out into the salty night air.
Chapter Twenty
Tilly
Zara and I were hanging out at my tent. She was painting her toenails, looking up every now and then with a smile on her face as she teased me about Sawyer. She was the most relaxed I’d seen her all summer.
We’re nothing alike, Zara and I. She’s tall and blonde and a total goddess, with little gold freckles that dance across her nose. She looks like she’s been dipped in warm paint. I’m middle-sized and alternately round and pointy, I used to think in all the wrong places. But what do I know? My face was still sore, but I was beginning to look less like I’d lost a battle and more like someone who’d had a tumble and lived to tell the tale.
We weren’t going anywhere that day, no plans. Just mucking around, waiting to see what the day would bring us. Zara was laughing about something I’d said, and she circled her brush in the air, threatening to dot my nose with nail polish.
I looked up and there she was, walking up the path towards us. I think I mentioned she was short. But for a tiny person, she fills up a huge amount of space. She was wearing wide-legged Thai fisherman pants and a black crossover top. Her dark hair was in two plaits hanging either side of her head. She looked sweet, but also like she might be about to kick someone’s ass, kung-fu style. She shielded her eyes, squinting into the sun, and smiled.
‘Mieke!’ I shouted.
Zara’s head whipped around. She jumped up. ‘Mieke! Mieke! Mieke!’ she cried. She ran over with her arms out and so did I. Mieke looked a bit scared as we descended on her – we were weapons of mass affection. But Zara and I held on, dancing around in a circle and she danced too. When we finally let go, she stepped back a bit.
