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What Supergirl Did Next

Page 10

by Thalia Kalkipsakis


  ‘Oh . . .’ I said and looked down. I knew that date well. ‘I’ve got a swimming comp the same day.’

  Samantha shrugged and sat at the end of the bed, crossing her hypermobile legs. ‘So, what’s going on, Jade?’

  I yawned and rubbed my neck. ‘Nothing really. I wasn’t ready to go to bed and . . .’ I glanced at the door. ‘Is Mum still watching TV?’

  Samantha looked up at the ceiling and laughed. ‘Geez, you two!’ She smiled at me and shook her head again. ‘Mum sat me down last week and drilled me about you, you know.’

  ‘Really?’ I was only a bit surprised.

  Samantha nodded. ‘Yeah, I think you’ve unsettled her a bit with all this swimming . . .’ She looked at me sideways and frowned. ‘What’s this about a race against some guy?’

  I swallowed and took a breath. ‘I dunno. I got all worked up about some sexist remarks and ended up racing him in the pool.’

  Samantha let out a snort, then slapped her hand over her mouth and giggled quietly. ‘Bet he hated it when you won!’

  I just nodded. I didn’t want to go there.

  Sam knew better than to push it. She shook her head and sighed. ‘Geez, you’re one-of-a-kind, Jade. I’d never even think of doing something like that, Supergirl!’

  I scrunched up my nose. ‘You hate that nickname.’ It was a statement more than a question.

  For a moment we looked at each other as the smell of long-ago arguments wafted back to us.

  ‘Well, if you must know,’ Samantha said eventually. ‘It was you I hated . . . not the nickname.’ She chuckled like a wise old woman telling a joke. ‘Do you remember that gym comp years ago, when Mum first called you Supergirl, the one where you won that trophy? You’d just come in and absolutely blitzed. I’d been doing gym for two years longer than you! And gawd . . . the way Mum just went on and on about how you’d won.’ She shook her head and sighed, but she didn’t seem angry – just glad it was a long time ago.

  None of this was a surprise to me, of course. But at the same time, I felt as though I was seeing it all fresh. For the first time ever, I could see the whole picture, not just my little six-year-old world.

  I shook my head and started stammering, ‘Well, I don’t blame you for hating me. I mean . . . I didn’t think—’

  Samantha talked over me. ‘Oh, I didn’t hate you for long! After a while I decided that it wasn’t your fault. That’s when I started hating Mum.’

  All those years of fighting and yelling between Samantha and Mum suddenly shifted in my mind.

  ‘Yeah . . . no wonder—’ I started.

  But Samantha cut in again. ‘Don’t worry about it, Jade. All that’s past history. It’s not really an issue for me now.’

  ‘Yeah . . . but, I mean, that’s pretty cruel isn’t it. Treating one of us like the chosen one.’ The more I thought about it the more worked up I felt. And it was Mum who was making me angry.

  Samantha laughed, her cheeks bright. ‘You know what, Jade? These days I’m actually glad that it was you and not me. It meant I was free to . . . I don’t know . . . just be myself. I never would have coped with all the pressure Mum puts on you. You carry the name Supergirl way better than I ever could have.’

  I swallowed and look down at my hands. I’d spent long enough feeling bad for letting Mum down. Now I felt like I was letting Samantha down too.

  ‘Hey . . .’ Her arm draped around my shoulders. ‘I know your knee and everything . . . feels like the worst thing that could ever have happened. But it doesn’t have to be so bad, Jade.’ She paused. ‘You’re human! That’s all it means.’

  Samantha squeezed my shoulder and whispered, ‘It’s okay to be human, Supergirl.’

  I woke up late the next morning, though not as late as Samantha. If sleeping in was an Olympic event then Sam would have been a gold medallist.

  Mum was in the kitchen when I wandered in, scratching my neck and yawning. Well half of her was at least – her bum and legs were sticking out of the fridge, wiggling.

  ‘What’s wrong with the fridge?’ I asked, sitting down and eyeing the clutter of bottles and packages on the kitchen table, and choosing a jar of pickled onions.

  ‘Nothing,’ came Mum’s muffled voice, then the rest of her appeared – pink gloves and neatly pulled back hair, the picture of housekeeping perfection. ‘Just doing a bit of spring cleaning,’ she said briskly. Then she frowned at the jar in my hand. ‘You might want to check the use-by date on that.’

  I glanced vaguely at the label then dived in for a second onion. They tasted okay to me.

  ‘So, how did it go?’ Mum pulled off her gloves and wiped her forehead with the back of a hand.

  ‘Awesome,’ I said, slowly letting the reality of yesterday settle in me. ‘Monique nailed it. She really did.’

  Mum was watching me closely as if hoping to catch a sign of jealousy or new-found drive. But somehow I didn’t want to add myself into the mix. It had been Monique’s big day, not mine.

  ‘Just shows what can happen when you work for it, eh?’ said Mum, still watching me closely.

  I nodded and screwed the lid back onto the jar of onions. As soon as I put it back on the table, Mum grabbed it and peered at the label. The jar went straight in the bin.

  Mum’s voice was dripping with anticipation. ‘So . . . the big question is . . . how did you feel, Jade?’

  ‘I dunno.’ I looked up at Mum and sighed. ‘It was good to see everyone again.’

  ‘So . . . you’re ready to go back?’

  I shrugged and looked down at my hands. ‘Well . . .’

  When I looked up, Mum was frowning and shaking her head. ‘Jade, you saw the standard of competition yesterday.’ She pointed towards the front door, arm straight and forceful. ‘None of those girls are going to slow down and wait for you to get your act together. They’re working their guts out and . . .’ She dropped her arm and swallowed, as if pained to even say it. ‘If you keep doing nothing, then soon you won’t be able to catch them.’

  They were tough-love words – trying to slap me into action, but they hadn’t scared me the way Mum hoped they would. I’d already faced all that.

  Mum pulled out a kitchen chair and sat next to me. Our knees nearly touched. ‘Jade, I know it hasn’t been easy . . . but I’ve left you to sort through this on your own for long enough. It’s time we got your life together, sweetheart . . .’

  I tried to keep my voice even. ‘I’ve got the swimming Zone Finals coming up. After that, I’ll go back to gym.’ It was what Mum wanted to hear at least, but not much more. ‘How’s that for a plan?’

  Mum threw up her arms in frustration. ‘Honestly? It sounds like classic procrastination to me.’

  I let a breath out and glared at her.

  ‘I mean . . . swimming?’ she continued. ‘What’s that all about? You’re going to hold up all your goals at gymnastics for some boy who’s on the swim team?’ She was laughing at how absurd it sounded.

  I stood up, sick of it all. But Mum stopped laughing and stood too. ‘Jade . . .’ Her voice was shrill.

  ‘Look, I’m learning a lot about competition from swimming, you know. It’s not a waste of time.’

  She nodded with put-on understanding, but I knew what she was really thinking.

  There didn’t seem to be anything else for us to say. I turned, heading for the shower, and heard the fridge door open behind me. Meeting aborted.

  Good. Mum would never understand what was going on for me. Ever since the injury I’d just been drifting, falling. Now I knew where I wanted to land – I wanted to fix the mess I’d made with Levi and sort through everything in my head. Until that happened, I had to keep going. Just keep fighting, Supergirl . . .

  CHAPTER 13

  I slid my books into my locker, pulled out an energy drink and slammed the door shut. It seemed unusually loud, probably because the locker hall was empty except for me.

  It was lunchtime but I’d stayed after class to speak to my maths teacher a
bout an assignment due in two weeks. Though, right then those two weeks felt like two years. Who cared what would happen in two weeks when it was only a few days until the Zone Finals? The next day was our last big training session in the pool, when Miss Paynter would finalise the team. After that, she was planning a taper so we could rest and prepare for Friday.

  Rene wasn’t under our tree, so I headed for the oval, gulping my energy drink and willing its magic to put the spring back in my legs.

  As if the past few weeks of stroke correction with Miss Paynter hadn’t been tough enough, the universe was giving me one last test – a scratchy red-raw throat. Let’s see if you are strong enough to fight past this one, Supergirl.

  But I was up for that game too. When I was twelve I’d blitzed a Level Eight comp after pushing myself past a cold. On days when there is no tomorrow, it matters diddly-squat if you end up sick by the end of today. Besides, adrenaline is like a superdrug. If they could bottle it, they’d make millions. So I knew that I’d be okay for training. I had to be. Miss Paynter was going to finalise the team.

  In the meantime, I was hitting the sore throat with my full arsenal – juice tonics and echinacea tablets. Just keep going, Jade.

  The oval was busy with the usual crowd plus a bunch of sunny-weather players. Other groups of kids lay dotted around the edges like prides of lions sleeping off their latest kill.

  I took another gulp of energy drink. I couldn’t see Rene or Marco anywhere.

  As I kept scanning, I noticed Levi sitting on a bench, sandwich wrapping beside him but no one else near.

  I couldn’t resist.

  ‘So, Levi, ready for Zone?’ I asked straight out. One hand on my hip and my energy drink in the other. Who says we haven’t spoken for weeks?

  For a moment, Levi frowned my way, as if facing torture on two legs. Then he gazed out across the oval. ‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’

  I glanced over my shoulder at nothing in particular, then back again. I couldn’t really think of anything more to say, but it was too late to back away now.

  ‘So what events are you swimming?’ I said, then wished I could say it again without sounding so annoyed.

  For a moment I thought Levi wasn’t going to answer. His face seemed different now that I was up close – slimmer and older somehow. His ginger hair had grown a bit shaggy.

  ‘Hundred metre freestyle relay,’ he said simply. At least he was looking at me, though I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

  I shifted to my other leg and took a gulp of energy drink. Maybe talking to him had been a bad idea. It had started out weird and was getting weirder by the minute.

  Then another question came to me – something that I wondered vaguely every time Miss Paynter ripped into me about technique. ‘So . . . have you had to do extra work on your stroke? I mean, Miss Paynter wouldn’t let you get away with much . . .’

  Levi nodded, still serious. At least he had stopped clenching his jaw. ‘That woman. She’s pure evil . . .’

  I couldn’t help a chuckle. In my mind I pictured Levi swallowing his pride while Miss Paynter made him work on his arm positions over and over.

  ‘And I’ve learnt to do those turns.’

  It was like an axe blade, chopping the ground between us. Levi wasn’t looking at me when he said it.

  ‘Oh . . . ah . . . that’s good,’ I mumbled. Finding even those words was a struggle.

  Levi leaned back, squinting as if forcing himself to look at me. ‘She must love you, though, with all your special arm positions and whiz-bang breathing.’

  I snorted and shook my head. ‘I tell you what . . . I used to think that I was good at all that. But man I’m up to here in technique.’ I sliced a hand across my throat. ‘Miss Paynter’s the frigging Queen of Technique!’

  Levi was watching me closely. After a few seconds, he nodded. ‘Have you ever tried letting go of all that? You know, just going for it in a race – letting your natural talent take over . . .’

  I wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic, but I knew exactly what he meant – letting the muscle memory of past strokes guide my movements without having to think through each one.

  Getting into my swimming zone.

  Easier said than done. For so long I’d been walking in smaller and smaller circles, trying to find my way back into the zone. That was my problem in a nutshell. If I knew how to get back there in the first place, then none of this would even have happened.

  I shrugged and stabbed at the gravel with my toe. ‘Yeah . . . well . . . swimming is a lot to think about.’

  When I looked up at Levi, the tortured look had returned to his eyes. ‘What the hell would I know, eh?’

  The air went cold between us.

  I took a breath. ‘Anyway. Good luck on Friday. I’ll ah . . . keep an eye out for your relay.’

  ‘Okay.’

  One word was better than none. I turned away feeling slightly dizzy, as if all the energy had been drained out of me. The conversation had been so bitter-sweet, like grinding sugar deep into my wounds. I wanted to stay angry at him for being such a sexist loser, but that was easier said than done.

  If I had a chance to make the whole race between us just disappear, I’d have done it in an instant.

  When I got home from school I dosed up on flu drugs and flaked out on my bedspread.

  That was fine, all part of the plan. All I had to do was conserve my energy for the last training session. I knew that the thrill and thrust of building up to the competition would be enough to get me through. I didn’t have any doubt about that, at least. I didn’t wake up until my bedroom door whooshed open.

  ‘Dinner’s re— oh! I thought you were doing homework.’ I sat up fast, then wished I hadn’t when the room started spinning.

  ‘Well, look at you, Supergirl.’ Mum sat on my bed and placed her hand on my forehead. ‘I think you’ve got the flu.’

  I cleared my throat and took a breath, pulling all my superpowers together. ‘Not sick. Just . . . resting up before training tomorrow.’

  Mum let her hand slide from my forehead to my cheek. ‘Always the fighter, aren’t you, Jade.’ She was smiling.

  ‘What’s for dinner?’

  Mum stood up and headed for the door. ‘Quiche, but stay in bed if you like.’ She stopped at the doorway and turned.

  I shook my head. ‘I’m fine.’ Feet on the floor, push to stand, wait for the room to stop spinning. ‘I’ll be there in a sec.’

  I was only a little light-headed when I made it to the dining room. All I had to do was fuel up on solid food and find my bed again. The next day I’d be all set.

  Mum was watching me closely as I sat down.

  ‘Samantha’s working, is she?’ I asked, leaning back. The smell of the quiche was overpowering.

  ‘No. She’s staying late at uni. Trying to finish her painting before the exhibition.’

  My head felt tight. I picked up my fork and poked so that the quiche wobbled. I put the fork down.

  Mum’s voice drifted to me from a distance. ‘I know you don’t want to hear this, but there’s no way you can train tomorrow, sweetheart. You’re sick.’

  I picked up my fork again, and smiled at Mum. ‘Nah, I’m fine. Anyway, I did that Level Eight comp with a cold remember?’ I stabbed some lettuce and started crunching.

  Mum was shaking her head. ‘It looks like the flu to me.’

  ‘But they’re going to finalise the team tomorrow, so I have to swim.’

  Mum put her glass down and breathed out.

  ‘Well, they’ll just have to do it without you, Jade, because you’re not up to it, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Look, Mum, I’m swimming tomorrow. I’ll be fine, even if I have to come straight back to bed. But I have to swim, otherwise I won’t even make the Zone Finals.’ And I have to be part of it all with Levi . . .

  Mum picked up her wine. ‘Here’s to your determination, Jade!’ She took a sip. ‘But I’m sorry, sweetheart, you’re simply too sick to go.’


  ‘I’m swimming tomorrow, Mum,’ I spat. ‘You can’t stop me.’

  She looked up at the ceiling and laughed. ‘Actually, I can stop you. I can call the school and tell them you’re sick.’ She was still smiling. ‘Goodness! What would they think if I sent you with the flu!’

  What would they think? I didn’t need that, not after working so hard to catch up. I didn’t need a brick wall from her.

  ‘That’s all you’re worried about, isn’t it?’ I yelled. ‘What would they think!’

  Mum’s eyes narrowed. ‘Jade. That’s enough.’

  But it wasn’t enough for me. ‘You never wanted me to swim. That’s what this is about. If it was a gym comp tomorrow, you’d be pushing me to go. All you ever push for is what you want.’ I let the words spew over her, hoping she’d drown in the truth of them.

  Mum was quiet, her eyes fixed on me, her breathing shallow. ‘Look, Jade, I know—’

  ‘You don’t know ANYTHING!’ I shouted.

  The air was hot, swirling around me in a lightshow of truth and emotion. For a moment all sound disappeared. Then with a rush it switched on again, and I exploded.

  ‘This is all because of you, anyway . . . All this happened because I believed you! All that stuff about Supergirl and being the best . . . all total, utter nonsense!’ I screamed. ‘And this mess is all YOUR FAULT!’

  I pushed back my chair, letting it fall over, and flew out of the room. My door crashed shut behind me – solid, but nowhere near loud enough.

  For a moment, I looked around my room, panting.

  I started on my mirror. Stupid sticky-notes and inspiring quotes, down they all came. Dumb, stupid, useless words – they crumpled so easily in my hands.

  Then I started on the ribbons and certificates – ripping the corners and pulling at the Blu-tack. I didn’t want any part of them to remain and mess up my wall.

  Last of all was the collection of trophies. I grabbed an old bag and shoved them in. They seemed light and flimsy now. Chunks of wood and plastic stuck together with cheap glue – that was the meaning of my life.

 

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