Unfortunately, once we’re on board I realise this is also Lana’s and Chanel’s bus, because they come clacking down the aisle in their heels, everyone else making way. They glide into the back seat and pull out their phones, ignoring everything around them. At least I’m all the way up the front and Emily’s with me today. I try not to think of tomorrow, when she won’t be, and it’ll be me on my own, pretending to read and hoping to avoid a scene.
‘Okay,’ Emily says in a low voice, ‘I don’t really know why I’m whispering this when it should be shouted from the rooftops, but maybe you’ll want to keep it on the down-low. I had my first art prac today, with Theo —’
I’m all jittery inside.
‘— and he and I were talking about what we’re going to paint for our major work —the oil painting we’re spending this term on. I told him that I want to paint you —’
‘Em, no. I don’t mind you painting me if no-one sees it, but —’
‘Before you go into an insecurity spiral, let me finish.’ Her eyes are huge with I’ve got to tell you. ‘When I told him I want to paint you, his response was, “I think she’ll be a great subject, she’s very beautiful”.’ Emily squeals. ‘Theo thinks you’re beautiful! Not that anyone wouldn’t, but the fact that he said it to me and he knows you’re my best friend — well, he obviously wants it to be passed along.’
Very beautiful? I let out a spluttering laugh. ‘Em, come on. He said something like “Oh, good choice” and your brain heard what it wanted to.’
Emily looks insulted. ‘Ade, I’m not a Ten with a brain cell count of two.’
I give her a ‘shut up’ look, gesturing my head towards the back seat. Emily never minds insulting Tens within their earshot, but why would I shoot rockets when I want to stay under the radar?
‘Ade, why would I lie to you about this?’
‘You want me to feel more confident.’
‘I want you to feel more confident, but I’m not insane. I’m not going to encourage you when it comes to a guy if there’s no solid evidence.’
‘But that’s exactly what happened last time.’
Thank god Dylan lives on a different bus route. If he didn’t, I’d have to walk the fifty minutes to school every day.
‘Ade, that was different. I didn’t read it wrong, Dylan’s an idiot who didn’t realise —’
‘Stop on the “Dylan is an idiot” part and we’re all good.’
‘Ade, I swear on our entire friendship that Theo said those exact words in that exact order: “She’s very beautiful”. So you’re the idiot if you don’t believe it.’
Emily looks really mad at me. I don’t know what to say, so I keep quiet, as always. Too much is going through my brain — not only has Theo, the cutest guy I have ever seen, said I’m beautiful, but this is the first time any boy has ever called me that. It’s like the words are sitting on the surface of my skin, unable to be absorbed into my bloodstream.
And then my brain sing-songs: Ha, Dylan! You might not think I’m beautiful, but now someone else does. My mouth becomes a smirk before I can stop it.
‘Aha!’ Emily snaps out of her mood. When she gets angry it’s like a hailstorm — intense, but over before you realise it. ‘I knew you wouldn’t pay attention if I called you a goddess, but now that a boy’s backed me up, you’re all “Maybe I am as fine as Emily says”.’
I laugh. ‘You’re taking it too far. If I was that attractive, wouldn’t I have guys coming up to me all the time like the Tens?’
‘Everyone’s scared of you.’
I burst out laughing. ‘This is the craziest theory you’ve ever come up with. I’m terrified of everyone — it’s not the other way around.’
‘Resting face,’ Em says, and shrugs.
‘What face? Remember, I’ve been away from the civilised world, so I’m not following this.’
‘Resting face — what your face looks like when it’s not talking or smiling. You used to have a resting get me out of here, I’m terrified face, but now you have …’ She hesitates.
‘What?’ I feel like she’s about to tell me something unpleasant.
‘The term is “resting bitch face” — you know, like the Tens when they’re all “I am the queen of the universe, don’t any of you slaves talk to me”.’
‘I don’t want to have a resting bitch face,’ I whisper, feeling horrified.
Em shakes her head. ‘It’s not a bad thing, Ade. It makes you look like you won’t put up with crap.’
People have always wanted me to toughen up. Don’t take it so personally. Don’t be so sensitive. Like it’s as easy as wishing it.
‘That’s why the boys won’t come up to you,’ Em goes on. ‘They can’t read you, so to them it’s as scary as approaching a tiger.’
‘They’ve completely forgotten I have next to no spine?’
‘Adriana!’ she scolds. ‘You’ve walked back into Jefferson after everything that happened. To me, your backbone is made out of friggin’ steel!’
I feel like hugging her.
‘Their conception of who you were has been replaced by “Oh man, she’s out of my league”. As soon as one of them dares to break the ice, the rest will follow. There’ll be an inundation of worshippers arriving to bow at your shrine.’
‘Trust you to make this mythical.’ I shake my head as the bus pulls into my stop.
Em gazes around the massive lounge room. ‘You weren’t wrong when you said it was big.’
‘When Dad yells up to me for anything, his voice echoes.’
‘The pool is awesome though.’
I agree with her, even though I’m not crazy about the house. It’s an infinity pool and perfect for swimming laps.
‘What about your room?’ she asks.
We thump up the stairs.
‘You have your own walk-in wardrobe?’ Em exclaims. ‘Lucky! How come you haven’t put up any of your stuff? And your quilt cover’s not on the bed.’
‘I was too tired to sort it out,’ I lie.
The truth is, when Dad brought in all the boxes from storage and I opened them up, I felt nauseous. The quilt cover makes me think of how many afternoons I spent crying on it after Mum died. The magazines are full of articles I’ve dog-eared, like ‘Ten Signs He’s Crushing On You’ or ‘Does He Secretly Want To Be More Than Friends?’. The pink sofa is the one Mum and I used to sit on while she read to me.
I shut down all the lids and pushed the boxes into the corner. They make me feel like a hypocrite. I was the one yelling at Dad for not moving back to our old house, and now I can’t deal with the stuff that used to be in my room?
‘Let’s do it now. I’ll help you.’ Em moves towards the boxes.
‘Let’s go swimming instead,’ I say.
Emily looks from me to the boxes and back again, before grinning. ‘Deal.’
And so we swim in the infinity pool, shouting to each other about Theo, and our parents, and how many weeks are left till the formal, and I pretend the boxes don’t exist at all.
The next morning when I reach the bus stop, Chanel is sitting on the bench, scrolling through her phone. Seeing her completely unnerves me. She didn’t get off at my stop yesterday.
She looks up at me and smiles. ‘You live round here?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Which house?’ She pulls out a lip gloss and starts applying the oxblood colour to her lips.
Ugh. I don’t want to tell her where I live because she’ll more than likely tell Lana, and who knows what will wind up in our mailbox or on our doorstep. But what can I do — lie and pretend to walk up someone else’s driveway every afternoon?
‘Number 18,’ I say softly, hoping she’ll only catch part of it.
‘The place with the lap pool?’ She tosses her lip gloss back into her purse, which I can see is YSL and probably worth my total yearly allowance. ‘My parents own Number 15 across the street. We saw your place at an open house. Mum and Dad wanted to see what it was worth so they could work out how
much their place is worth. They always want to know what everything is worth.’ She rolls her eyes.
‘We’re just renting,’ I say.
‘We don’t have a pool, which sucks. My parents are still adjusting to having grass. We only ever lived in apartments in Korea.’
Why is she telling me all this? Is it an ‘I’m a Ten and I’ll chat to you briefly’ moment because she’s trying to repay the favour from yesterday?
‘Your pool is way better than Tatiana’s,’ Chanel says.
My heart starts pounding at the mention of Tatiana.
The bus pulls up. As I head up the steps, Chanel behind me, I realised it’s packed and there’s barely a free seat anywhere, except up the back in front of Lana. I’d have to be crazy to choose that one. The only other spot is next to a guy who has his legs curled up so there’s about ten centimetres of space available. I’m going to have to ask him to move.
I stop beside his seat. The guy is wearing headphones and looking out the window.
‘Excuse me?’ I wave at him. Now that I’m closer, he smells like he hasn’t showered in a week.
‘Oh my god,’ Chanel whispers behind me, obviously annoyed I’m holding her up.
‘Sorry, I’m moving —’
‘No, I mean, do not take that seat.’ She shakes her head. ‘His BO is a horror story. Come and sit with us instead.’
I scan her face for signs that she’s joking. I can see myself reaching the seat and then either Lana or she will yell out ‘psych’ and cover the seat with their bags and I’ll be forced to walk back down past snickering faces to BO boy.
‘Sit down!’ the driver shouts back to us, pulling out of the bus stop.
I’m going to have to take the dice-with-death option. If it goes wrong, I’ll insist Dad drops me off at school every day.
We reach Lana, who’s giving me the same weird look as in art class.
‘Finally!’ she says to Chanel, and pulls her backpack off the seat in front of her. ‘You know how many people send me “I hate you” looks for holding this seat every day?’
‘You cop those all day and it’s got nothing to do with saving a seat.’ Chanel slides over to the window seat, leaving the aisle seat free. ‘Try being a little less evil-bitch and see how you go.’
Instead of slapping her, Lana bursts out laughing. ‘At least you tell it like it is.’
‘I’m not Tatiana.’ Chanel is laughing too. ‘I’m not going to play sweet and then stab you in the back.’
I’m still standing there like an idiot. The bus turns a corner and I almost fall onto the people on the other side of the aisle.
‘Adriana!’ Chanel looks at me like I’m crazy. ‘Sit down already!’
Lana rolls her eyes. ‘This bus driver’s a maniac.’ She looks at me, but doesn’t say anything mean.
That’s how I wind up sitting at the back of the bus with two Tens, who I know from Emily own You can’t sit with us T-shirts.
‘Have you heard anything?’ Lana leans forward between Chanel and me. She’s so close I can smell her perfume.
‘Well, Joe told me — I find it so typical of her that she’s blocked all of us but has kept the guys —’
‘She can’t live without male attention,’ Lana says.
‘Well, apparently her school looks amazing — like, huge grounds and statues and stuff. And then he started talking about how she had Snapchatted a pic of herself sunbathing topless in her courtyard, so I gave him the whatever look and walked away. Luke doesn’t follow her any more, does he?’
‘Luke wouldn’t be living if he was still following her.’ Lana sounds blasé but I can hear the undertone of ‘seriously pissed off’ in her voice.
Chanel looks at me apologetically. ‘Sorry. We try not to talk about her cause we’re over the drama of the whole thing, but sometimes she’s so annoying.’
‘Adriana gets it.’ Lana answers for me and I start, shocked that she’s acknowledged my presence. ‘Tatiana’s a horrendous bitch, right?’
I look at Tatiana’s ex-best friend and wonder what I’m supposed to say. It’s okay for the Tens to call her names, but I’m not one of them. They know I don’t have that built-in right — even if what they’re saying is true.
Both Chanel and Lana are staring at me. I feel like this is a test. So I say what’s true, even if it’s something I’ve only ever admitted to Emily.
‘I hate her.’
They’re silent for a moment, staring at me, and I stop breathing.
‘See, that’s what we need to say,’ Lana says emphatically. ‘Not she’s this or that, but the truth — we all hate her. All her once-best friends hate her. She’s lucky she left the country.’
I let out my breath. I’m going to make it off this bus alive.
‘What’s your first period?’ Chanel asks as we arrive at school.
‘Maths.’
‘Mine too. Let’s pick up a coffee first. I can’t deal with algebra without caffeine in my bloodstream.’
Let’s. As in she wants me to go with her.
Even though she terrifies me, I’m more scared of saying no to her, so I follow, watching as people dart aside to give her room, like schools of fish giving space to a shark.
Emily’s Diary
The first time someone called me a bastard, I was six.
It was Tatiana, of course. It happened a few weeks before Ade arrived at Jefferson Primary, so even before we became all-out enemies I had my reasons for hating her.
The day before she said it, all the girls were playing hopscotch. We were almost at the end of the game when I saw Tatiana’s shoe scuff a line.
‘Tatiana, you stepped on a line,’ I said. ‘You’re out.’
She ignored me and kept hopping to the end of the boxes, before spinning around to face me. ‘I didn’t touch anything.’
I walked over to the spot and pointed to the smudged pink chalk. ‘The chalk’s messed up from your shoe.’
‘Liar.’ She turned and began hopping back to the start line.
‘I’m not a liar.’ I stood on the square, blocking her. ‘It’s not fair if the other girls get called out and you don’t.’
‘Move!’ Tatiana had a ferocious look even at age six.
I was about to step away because I couldn’t be bothered to fight about hopscotch, but Tatiana’s friends got involved.
‘Stop being mean to her!’ Jasmine said, coming to stand at Tatiana’s side. Maddy and Ally joined them.
‘I don’t want a liar at my birthday party,’ Tatiana said, and she raised an eyebrow, challenging me.
All the other girls were standing back, not saying anything. I knew they’d seen what I had, but they didn’t want Tatiana to be mad at them. They all wanted to go to her party.
‘I’m not a liar!’ I said.
I didn’t care about the party. Tatiana used the invites like bargaining chips. Sometimes girls would run after her for weeks, buying her icy poles from the canteen, handing over their hairclips if she liked them, and they still missed out on an invite.
‘Well, I didn’t step on the line,’ she told me.
‘Show us the bottom of your shoe then.’
I hated all this drama. This was why I usually painted at lunchtime, while the other girls fought about who got to wear what from the dress-up box.
Tatiana folded her arms. ‘I’m not showing you anything.’
‘If you were innocent, you wouldn’t care if we looked at your shoe.’ I gave her a look and walked away.
In the afternoon, all the girls edged away from me, scared that being friendly would knock them off the birthday party list.
The next day I was drawing with pastels, my paper on the ground. Suddenly a shoe stomped down where my sun had been.
‘Hey!’ I looked up to see Tatiana smirking down at me, Jasmine’s arm linked with hers. ‘You’re on my picture.’
Tatiana shrugged. ‘So?’
‘So get off it.’ I tried to push her foot off and she attempted to stomp on
my hand. ‘Stop it!’
‘You know what you are, Emily?’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘You’re a bastard.’
I knew why she was whispering — it was a bad word. Whenever I’d heard it come on TV, Mum had changed the channel.
‘Oh, so it took you a whole day to come up with a name?’
I wasn’t going to show Tatiana I was bothered by her. I knew I could go to Mrs Bauman now and tell her that Tatiana had said a swear word at school. I never tattled, but she was being a bully and deserved to get in trouble.
‘You don’t know what it means, do you?’ She giggled and Jasmine joined in.
‘Do you?’ I shot back. I bet she was just pretending she knew.
‘It means you have no dad.’
‘I do so have a dad!’
‘Come on, Emily, you lie about hopscotch, you lie about your dad — you make stuff up all the time. No one has ever seen your dad pick you up or drop you off. My mum and some of the other mums were talking about it on Fair Day. Your mum and dad weren’t married, and she got pregnant and he ran away, and so you’re a bastard.’
It was like she’d stepped on me, not just the paper. Suddenly I didn’t want to tell Mrs Bauman anything. I wanted to be alone. Tatiana tossed her hair over her shoulder and stalked away.
Later on, at home, I looked up the word in the dictionary.
Bastard: a person born of unmarried parents; an illegitimate baby, child or adult; a despicable person; something irregular, abnormal or inferior.
I looked over at Mum, who was sitting in the purple velvet armchair, and slammed the dictionary shut as I felt like she could see through the covers. I knew that telling her what had happened would make her feel as bad as I did, so I didn’t say a word.
A few years later I saw a painting by Rubens in one of my art books that showed horses and gods falling out of the sky. The painting was called The Fall of Phaeton, and when I googled it I discovered it depicted a Greek myth. Phaeton was a young boy who didn’t know who his father was. He lived alone with his mother, and every day kids at school would taunt him about having no dad. When he went to his mother to beg her to reveal who his father was, she told him he was Helios, the god who drove the chariot of the sun around the world each day. Phaeton proudly told the kids who his father was, and of course they didn’t believe him.
My Best Friend Is a Goddess Page 16
