Paradise City

by C. J. Duggan

  I sniggered. ‘That’s how I feel about Paradise. Red Hill was so mundane and bloody awful. Then I came here and it’s like I have seen the sun for the very first time, and that’s just geography.’

  Amanda’s brow rose. ‘Wow, if you feel that way about a location I hate to think what you’ll feel about a boy.’

  I smiled. Oh, I think I knew how I felt about a boy, a particular boy.

  ‘I’m sorry I’ve been so mean to you.’ Amanda’s words surprised me; she blurted them out so randomly I froze. ‘I just worried maybe you’d be such a square you might tell on me for my midnight window hopping or something. I thought you’d be this lah-de-dah little miss; instead, here you are breaking and entering, getting detention and planning lunchtime escapes. They really should have put you in Kirkland.’ She nudged my leg with her foot.

  I took in what was a real-life apology, shaking my head, and revelling in the absurdity of it all. I was completely humbled and relieved that she had, in her own little way, begun clearing the slate.

  I burst out laughing.

  ‘What?’ Amanda asked, straightening from her recline. ‘What’s so funny?’

  My laughter subsided into a sigh of contentment, as I looked my cousin in the eyes. ‘You should kiss boys more often.’

  •

  Maybe it was all a dream? The adrenalin-pumping antics of my first sneak-out to hang with the cool kids hadn’t exactly been anything to write home about. A fluttering, heart-stopping moment of eye contact with Ballantine and he was out of there, not to be seen again. But in terms of something worthy happening, sharing a moment with my cousin, laughter, giggled gossip in the night, well, that meant more than anything. It was a feeling of such familiarity, I never wanted it to end. But like all things, inevitably the night lifts and the sun rises. I turned fitfully in my sheets away from the window that would no doubt be shining a new day onto my face. But instead I received a whack to the face by a pillow, again and again, until the final blow was stopped by me clutching it and yanking the pillow from Amanda’s hold.

  Had she woken up with a change of heart? Or was her icy facade slamming back into place while she bludgeoned me with her pillow?

  ‘What are you doing?’ I croaked, squinting through sleep-encrusted eyes, half expecting to see her glaring down at me. So when I was met by a blinding grin my surprise was marked by my eyes opening further.

  ‘Wake up, bitchtits!’ she chimed.

  Amanda was fully dressed in her school uniform and ready to go. I glanced at the window, confused by the fact that it was still dark outside. Would this night never end?

  ‘Am I getting a sense of déjà vu?’

  ‘It’s morning, you idiot, early morning.’

  The clock read 5.30 a.m. and, quickly calculating my lack of sleep, I flung myself back down, covering my head with my pillow; if this was some kind of sick joke I wanted no part of it. ‘Ugh. Go away,’ I mumbled.

  ‘Okaaaay, but I just thought you might want, oh I don’t know, to go watch the boys surf?’

  I ripped the pillow off my head, flinging it comically fast across the room as I sat up to attention, quickly gauging if Amanda was telling the truth or not. But she was deadly serious, despite the grin she was sporting.

  ‘Get dressed.’

  •

  My dad, the early-rising farmer, always told me you haven’t lived until you see the sun come up, that it was the best part of the day. But I could claim even better than that. You haven’t lived until you’ve sat on the beach with an apricot Danish and a coffee, watching the sun come up and glimpsing the distant flecks, the silhouettes of surfers, outlined against the glow of a tangerine horizon. In tireless surges they paddled their way out, straddling their boards, laughing and chatting but ever watchful of the building waves, judging them, waiting and then positioning themselves. Reading not only the rolling water but each other, yelling words of encouragement.

  ‘Yours, Boppo; take it, mate.’

  I inhaled a breath of crisp morning air, almost holding it for ransom until the surfer was up, positioning himself to stand in one fluid motion, slicing across the path of the tumbling masses. He teased it, flirted on the edge, taunting to the point where I was certain he’d fall, and then he violently twisted his torso, pushing his board out and in, riding, riding until inevitably the wave caught him. Peaking and barrelling out of his momentum, he was collected and recycled as nothing more than the ocean’s debris. I was of two minds. Firstly, fear. I breathed out in relief that it was over and that Boppo had broken through the surface. Stomach on his board again and being pushed back inland with what was left of the dying wave he had just tried to tame. I knew it was just a means for him to reposition, turn around and do it all over again. So, yes, first and foremost I thought them mad. But more than anything, as the sky lightened and the ocean’s surface reflected the glittering gold of the sun, I sat transfixed, unable to take my eyes off the black specks that dotted the horizon, playing with mother nature. This was the other part of me that thought them simply magnificent.

  No-one more so than when Ballantine paddled into motion; faster and faster he glided his way into the rising wall – it was an angry power that intimidated me from the shore, but not him. He was fearless. Even knowing nothing about surfing, as an outsider looking in, Ballantine rocked. I knew it wasn’t just bias that convinced me that he sliced through the waves effortlessly, and owned the barrel in a way that seemed longer and larger than anyone else. Believe me, I was paying attention. Watching him skim along the horizon in a series of twists and turns had the word magnificent whisper from my lips.

  ‘Yeah, he’s pretty bloody good,’ said Amanda, sipping on her coffee and shielding her eyes against the rising sun. She laughed. ‘Did you see Boon’s wipeout?’

  I laughed, not wanting to admit that I was really only watching one person out there – one person who caused the hair to rise on my arms, tingling sensations to run down my spine, and my lower lip to indent in anxiety wondering what each ride would bring. The ocean was such a foreign place to me, it was not anything I would want to run into and do battle against. The very feel of the sand slipping away underfoot and the force of the waves rushing over my ankles was enough for me.

  Nope, I would be just fine here, watching and waiting for them to do what they had to until enough was enough. And just when I thought I could watch on forever, to my surprise, one at a time, they rode into shore. Ballantine was one of the first, planting his feet and scooping up his board under his arm. My heart started racing knowing that he was headed our way, towards the boys’ towels we were sitting near. Did he know we’d been watching? Could he see us from out in the waves? Did he even think to look or was he in his own world? Boon was not far behind him; carrying his board at a run he raced past Ballantine, closing the space between us before coming up short, unwrapping the strap from his ankle and wedging his board in the sand. Not sure if he was going to bid us any notice, I almost felt sick for Amanda, hoping that she wouldn’t suffer humiliation at the hand of the boy she so desperately liked. But in true Boon fashion he turned to us, smiling boyishly as if he was happy to see us, then walked over and stood over us, ruffling salty drops from his shaggy, sopping hair.

  ‘Dooooon’t!’ we shrieked in a series of squeals and giggles.

  Boon laughed loud and goofy, taking sheer delight in making us squirm. He stepped back, taking us in with his mischievous eyes and shaking his head. ‘Chicks, man. We’re out there riding the waves, busting our rump, while you eat pastries and down lattes.’

  ‘It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.’ Amanda tilted her head, opting for flirty-adorable.

  ‘You should be out there instead of us, burning off those calories, hey, Ballantine?’

  By now, much to my heart-stopping delight, Ballantine too had unstrapped and wedged his board in the sand. He now stood tall and impressive next to it, his wetsuit peeled down to his narrow waist. He was lean and muscled, corded in all the deliciously right p
laces. His skin looked brown and smooth and his dimple flashed as Boon posed the question to him; he turned towards us as if seeing us for the first time. His eyes landed on me before he shrugged one shoulder, slow and casual.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he said, wrapping up the cord to his board. ‘I can think of better ways to burn calories.’

  His gaze was dark, his smirk cheeky, and the heavy insinuation only encouraged his fellow surfing mates to call out in howls and laugh in a way that said they more than agreed.

  My cheeks tinged with heat, glancing away from his eyes, which had landed squarely on me when he’d spoken. I don’t know if he was deliberately trying to unsettle or embarrass me but it had worked. I shifted uneasily, my stomach flipping in delight. In a way he had acknowledged me, even if it was in reference to a joke, a notch on his belt to be the hero among his mates; well, two could play at that game.

  I lifted my chin, looking him directly in the eyes so that he couldn’t mistake my meaning. ‘And what way would that be exactly?’ My eyes were devious, challenging, as I arched my brow in innocent wonder.

  Ballantine saw it immediately for what it was; the sniggers from his mates and their watchful gazes didn’t go unnoticed. He stared at me for a long moment, trying to stare me down or, in fact, thinking of a comeback. ‘Well, seems like you’re not accelerated in all subjects.’ He smirked.

  It was like a war waging between the two of us. I could sense Boon’s and Amanda’s heads flicking between us like a tennis match. The tension crackling between us with each exchange.

  ‘Well, if I need tutoring in cryptic innuendos, I’ll be sure to seek you out.’

  Ballantine snaked his towel over his shoulder, before flashing me a brief crooked grin. ‘And if I need further schooling in having the last word, then I’ll be sure to find you.’

  I smiled sweetly. ‘Please do.’

  Ballantine wedged the board under his arm before laughing and walking away.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I didn’t know what was more unbelievable, that I was amicably walking to the bus stop brushing shoulders with Amanda, or the fact that we were following the Kirkland surfers? Sure, we were following them at a respectable distance, but nonetheless, we were walking in their footsteps.

  ‘You’re staring.’ Amanda’s voice broke my thoughts.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Stop ogling their bums.’

  ‘I am not!’ I shoved her off the path.

  ‘Hey, it’s okay, I don’t blame you, I’m just surprised. I didn’t take you for a bum looker.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘As if. I’m just trying to put names to faces.’

  ‘Names to faces or names to bums?’

  ‘Seriously, how old are you?’

  I had desperately wanted Amanda to tell me every detail about where she had gone last night. What was the Wipe Out Bar? Where was the Wipe Out Bar? Who was Dean? Was he mad? Did they make it inside? Was Ballantine there? So far all I had gathered was that Boon had a wicked mouth and magic fingers and I really didn’t need to know more about either of those things. I didn’t quite know how to feel about me rejecting Boon’s advances and then him getting with Amanda. I know that’s what boys do; well, I think that’s what they do. But still, I would never tell Amanda about it. He was more than likely just mucking around. He seemed to be a giant flirt.

  ‘Okay, Kirkland boys 101,’ Amanda began. ‘There always seems like there’s a big cluster of them, but the originals, the only ones of any real notability, are Boon, Ballantine, Boppo and Woolly. They’re the real deal, the others are just hangers-on, but they’re not what anyone classes as anything.’

  I listened on with interest, watching the wall of boys up ahead; they walked shoulder to shoulder. Ballantine was actually in shorts today, exposing his bronzed legs. They were nice legs too. His school bag slung over his shoulder, his hair still damp from his surf. Next to him was a boy who was just as tall, but with shoulder-length, spiralled honey-coloured hair, the kind of hair most girls would kill for.

  ‘Let me guess, that’s Woolly?’ I asked, nodding towards the boy.

  ‘Geez, whatever makes you think that?’ Amanda replied, laughing.

  Which meant the boy on the far right of Boon was Boppo. He seemed just like any other boy, except he had the most interesting hazel eyes. They were quite hypnotic set against the tan of his skin, with his brown hair lightened by the sun.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Amanda singsonged in a taunting fashion.

  ‘What?’

  Had Amanda suddenly gained the power of telepathy? What was she talking about? And before I had a chance to question her, she winked at me.

  ‘Don’t worry, cuz. I’ll hook you up.’ And just like that, she sprinted ahead, causing my heart to plummet to my feet watching on as she ran towards the boys.

  Surely she wasn’t . . .

  But she merely pushed past them, and latched onto her BFF Gemma, who was sitting at the bus stop. The reunion was squealy and over the top, punctuated with the usual swapping of insults.

  I clearly had a lot to learn. I couldn’t imagine myself running up to Laura Boon at recess and saying, ‘Hey, you dirty skank.’ And I was quite relieved we hadn’t reached that point in our friendship.

  The boys fanned out to stand on the edge of the kerb by the bus shelter, joking, pushing and laughing as they talked about the morning’s surf; you didn’t have to listen to get that that was exactly what they were discussing. I watched on as Ballantine’s hands danced in conversation, miming the crest and then slapping one palm on the back of his other hand, laughing. I sat down next to Amanda, shrugging off my backpack and clamping it between my legs.

  Gemma’s surprised eyes didn’t go unnoticed. Her ‘what the hell is she doing here?’ expression was not in the least bit subtle. After a moment Gemma’s bored stare broke away from me and instead shifted to Amanda. ‘So what did you get up to last night? You never texted me back.’

  ‘Sorry, my phone was on the charger,’ she said with a pout. ‘I probably wouldn’t have heard it anyway, I was zonked by ten, and had a killer headache.’

  I did a double-take. Was she serious? Was she not going to relay the story of how she snuck out and hooked up with Boon? Was she not going to relay every single detail to her supposed best friend?

  ‘Wow! Sucks to be you,’ Gemma sympathised.

  ‘Yeah, hey,’ Amanda replied with a sigh, subtly kicking my ankle and throwing me a warning look.

  Don’t say a word.

  I broke away from staring at my cousin, who was scarily good at lying so effortlessly. I didn’t have to force my focus elsewhere because it was the sound of ‘Hey, Ballantine!’ that caused all our heads to whip around in the direction the high-pitched yell came from.

  Out of nowhere a petite blonde in a formal black-and-white uniform jumped onto Ballantine’s back, giggling as he caught her legs and swung her around before letting her go. She pushed into his view, playfully slapping him across his chest.

  ‘I’m mad at you, Luke Ballantine,’ she said, loud enough for the population of Paradise to hear. She crossed her arms and pouted her lips, as she looked up at him with a ‘come shag me’ expression. I felt sick.

  ‘Who is that?’ I asked, my face pained as if I was watching a traffic accident.

  ‘That’s Lucy Fell,’ said Gemma with as little enthusiasm as I had.

  ‘If only Lucy fell off a cliff,’ added Amanda, clearly not a fan either.

  I would be happy if she simply fell on her face. Her infuriatingly perfect face. She had big doe eyes, shiny blonde hair, and perky big boobs. She was clearly from another school as she wore an elitist uniform with an embroidered logo on her blazer. She had broken away from the next bus stop over, leaving behind her giggling, whispering friends. By the look of them, it was clearly an all-girl school.

  I swallowed my unease, trying to ignore the taste of bitterness.

  ‘So what, is she like Ballantine’s cousin or somethi
ng?’ I asked, hopeful.

  Amanda scoffed. ‘Do we look at each other like that? Definitely not cousins.’

  ‘She used to go to our school, she was one of our best friends until last year when she started going to St Sebastian’s,’ said Gemma.

  ‘Yeah, and then she started thinking she was a little bit better than everyone else,’ added Amanda, her scornful eyes glaring at Lucy, who playfully pushed Boon, causing him to lose his balance in the gutter.

  ‘Well, she doesn’t seem to think she’s better than the boys,’ I said.

  Amanda scoffed again. ‘She’s only trying to big-note herself in front of her friends. She’s such a fucking parasite.’

  My eyebrows rose at the venom in Amanda’s words; I had never seen her so angry, not even at me. But I couldn’t bring myself to care too greatly about Amanda’s past. All I could care about was the present, about what was unfolding before my eyes like a nightmare. A painfully loud laugh, a flick of her hair, and was that a double blink?

  I watched for Ballantine’s responses. His hands deep in his pockets, his feet kicking against the kerb as he spoke, casually glancing up at her. Oh, Christ, how could a glance be so sexy? No, not now, please don’t be sexy now. Lucy fell-on-her-face said something to him that caused him to smile, the dimple-exposing kind, the one that usually had my heart pumping with adrenalin, only now it felt like it would splinter into a million pieces. Oh, how I wished the bus would come along and run her over. Was that too much to ask, universe? And just as if I had willed it, turning the corner and sweeping into the bus lane it came, pulling up at the girls’ school stop, unfortunately doing so with no fatalities. Still, it had all the girls clambering to line up for pole position.

  Lucy squealed, ‘Gotta go!’ while dancing on the balls of her feet. She pulled Ballantine down, reached up on her very tippy toes and planted a quick, chaste kiss on his cheek, leaving a visible outline of pink lip balm that caused the boys to cheer and wolf whistle as she skipped away, glancing back with a pointed look of hot promise. She sashayed her way over to her waiting friends, high-fiving one who was holding her bag before stepping on the bus.