I can’t cope. Sarcasm edges into my voice. ‘Mum, are you checking him out?’
Mum ignores my question. ‘It’d be nice to offer him a drink.’
‘Great, Mum.’ I’m dying inside and bursting at the seams. I try to flatten my bum. Why did I eat so much last night? Why did Mum make that apple crumble? It’s my favourite and she knows it. ‘Mum, I’m waiting outside. Bye, Mum.’ I stand on the front steps, but I can see Mum peering through the blinds. I give up and wave at her. She smiles. Mum has no idea.
Oliver whistles when he sees me. It sends a shiver down my spine. Eddie always whistles too. Boys. ‘Nice top,’ he says. Is it? Do I look all right?
We sit on the front steps to wait for Angie’s dad. He’s the driver today. Hope he’s not late. What am I supposed to say to Oliver? My throat is dry and I’m stammering when Eddie rocks by, thank God. He talks football to Oliver. I can’t believe I’m actually grateful for Eddie.
Angie’s dad beeps his horn. Angie and Christopher are in the back seat of the car. They call out. Mum comes outside and waves us all off. She can’t help herself.
Eddie stands beside her. What is this, a family affair? I can’t helping smiling.
Oliver sits next to Christopher and I get into the front seat. Angie’s dad cracks terrible jokes all the way to the stadium. ‘I’d come with you, except I don’t want you to cramp my style.’
‘No more jokes please, Dad.’ Angie kisses him goodbye. ‘We’ll make our own way home.’
‘I’m taking your mother out, so don’t wait up for us.’ He winks at Angie. ‘You’re not the only ones having a good time.’
Angie groans. ‘My dad is not funny.’
‘I like your father.’ I’m feeling calmer as I walk beside Angie.
She glances over at Oliver. ‘He’s cute, Pip.’
I have to admit Oliver is good looking. So why is he interested in me?
We join the crowds piling into the stands. Angie and I find our seats, while Oliver and Christopher buy drinks and popcorn. ‘So what do you think?’ I nudge Angie.
‘Oliver likes you. I can tell.’
A nervous flush spreads over me. I’m not sure about this. I think I’m happy about it.
The football game is fast and furious. Everyone is screaming, moaning, cheering. I follow Oliver’s team and shout when someone shoots for a goal. I grab Oliver’s hand and squeeze it when there’s a miss. He doesn’t let my hand go until the next goal. My heart is pumping. All I can think about is his hand.
At interval the boys discuss the game—the best players, the best goals. Angie actually makes intelligent comments, impressing the guys and me. ‘My father takes me to lots of games.’ Angie smiles this drop-dead gorgeous smile, making Christopher stammer.
Then it’s back to the second half, lots of screaming and the Mexican wave. It’s more like a tidal wave as we crash against each other. I start to topple, but Oliver steadies me when he puts his arm around my waist. I suddenly feel hot. It’s the final chance for a goal. The stands are dead silent. Then the kick and it’s a winner. We go crazy and I’m in Oliver’s arms jumping up and down with him. The game is over and I loved it.
I can’t believe it’s so late already. Angie gives me a quick hug before she and Christopher head home holding hands. Oliver takes my hand. ‘Did you like the game?’
‘Maybe,’ I tease. I’m feeling better about all this.
‘You screamed loud enough.’ He smiles. I blush. ‘Let’s walk. It’s only about an hour to your place.’ Oliver’s hold feels warm and protective. ‘We can take the short cut through the park.’
‘Sure.’ Shivers dart through me.
On the way home we talk about the game, discuss the subjects we’re studying at school. I tell Oliver that my favourite band is Insomniac Road. He doesn’t listen to Insomniac Road. ‘I’ll have to change you,’ I laugh. He laughs too.
Old oak trees with their three-pronged leaves filter the blue sky with greeny shade. I become quieter. He becomes quieter too. Fat ducks paddle in the pond. We sit under the cover of those big old trees to watch them. Oliver puts his arm around my shoulders.
‘Cold?’
My heart is hammering. He looks at me. I look at him. It feels natural as his lips touch mine. They are sweet with cola. Salty with popcorn. His hands press me against him and I put my arms around him. The oak trees protect us in a dappled hideaway. We kiss and touch.
His fingers reach under my top for my breasts. I let him explore until doubt edges into my thoughts. Who is he? I don’t know this boy. ‘No more,’ I whisper. He doesn’t want to stop. I don’t either. Slowly his hands move lower and I push them back towards my breasts. We kiss for ages.
I wave Oliver quickly away at the front steps of my house. As I open the front door, I see Mum in the kitchen. She’s been waiting for me. ‘Did you have a good time?’
‘Yes, Mum.’ I feel mean, but I don’t want to talk to her. Not about Oliver. Not ever about Oliver.
My phone rings in my pocket. ‘Got to answer this, Mum.’
Mum’s eyes are disappointed. ‘We’ll talk later, then.’
‘Yes, later, Mum.’ I swerve past her, disappearing into my bedroom. It’s Angie, of course. ‘Yes, just got home.’ ‘Yes, loved the game.’ ‘Yes, Oliver is nice.’ ‘Yes, we can double-date again.’ Angie confides that she’s in love with Christopher. In love? After one date. I want to laugh. Love has to be more than a date at a football match. But that’s Angie.
She gasps. ‘…And Christopher likes Oliver and you.’
‘That’s great.’ I nearly roll my eyes. Angie bubbles on and on about Christopher. Sometimes I think she and I are on different planets. But then again, maybe we’re not. She’s happy that a boy likes her. I’m happy that Oliver likes me.
A boy really likes me. What’s it mean? I don’t know, but I feel good. For tonight, I feel good.
Sunday. Dad’s home. Only for three days. Tension rises. I escape with Eddie to the beach.
His mates are hanging around, looking at the surf, checking out the wind direction. There’s a girl with him. I’m sure it’s the one Angie saw. The ‘secret’ girlfriend. She’s wearing a tiny pink striped bikini showing off her tan and her body. I pull my top down over my bum. She’s too friendly with Eddie. It has to be her.
I nudge Eddie. He shrugs me away, which means that I have to investigate. She’s talkative, really talkative, especially after I tell her I’m Eddie’s sister. She surfs. Eddie likes surfing of course. Actually Eddie likes everything, except study. At the moment he’s focused on getting a car. He worked all last holidays on a building site and is saving for it. He’s also into bands, rock climbing and football, and unfortunately, his latest fad is learning the guitar.
When she turns to talk to someone else, I whisper in Eddie’s ear, ‘Not bad looking.’ I wink. She talks about herself a lot.
‘What?’ Eddie rumbles.
I drag him aside. ‘So this is your girlfriend.’ I put my hands over my heart. He burps as loudly as he can. ‘You’re revolting.’ I try to smack his back, but he’s too fast and grabs my hands, twisting me into a spin. Then he burps again. Guys are so disgusting. No, she didn’t hear the burps. Wish she did.
Eddie is stuck to the girl like gum. Yes, this is the girlfriend and Eddie isn’t acting like Eddie. He’s quieter, laughs at her dumb jokes, doesn’t jump around the place. I hope I don’t have a character change around Oliver.
I look at my watch. It’s time to go. I ask Eddie ten times. ‘Are we going?’ He’s glued to her fascinating discussion about shopping. Eddie hates shopping. This must be serious.
As Eddie and I walk home, Oliver phones. Eddie tickles me until I’m laughing. ‘Sorry, Oliver, it’s my brother.’ I run ahead of Eddie, panting and trying to talk at the same time. Oliver’s laughing on the other end of the line, which I suspect is a guy thing. Teasing girls is a duty. ‘Yes, yes, Oliver,’ I puff. He wants to take me to the movies. Another date. It’s looking like he�
��s a real boyfriend. Maybe.
I wait for Eddie to catch up. ‘Glad to have met your girlfriend at last. I thought you were hiding her because she looked like Frankenstein’s monster.’
Eddie laughs but refuses to talk about her. The girlfriend is off limits. So is the issue of having Dad home.
We walk without speaking for a while. Finally I break the silence. ‘I’m getting a ticket to Rockfest. Angie, Pip, Irina and I are going.’ I pretend to sound like Mr Connelly. ‘It’s a Music curriculum requirement.’
Eddie grunts. ‘Sure.’
‘We have to see at least two live performances.’
‘Like Insomniac Road.’ Eddie draws a guitar in the air. ‘Just what the school wants you to see.’
I can’t stop a smile slipping out. ‘That’s right.’ No orchestral concerts or jazz performances for us. It’s Rockfest. ‘And no guys welcome.’
‘Who says?’ Eddie grins. ‘I’m getting a ticket too. A couple of my mates are as well. So we’ll see you there, Pip Squeak.’
‘And what about the girlfriend?’ I poke my finger into Eddie’s ribs.
He tries to grab my hand, but I’m too fast.
‘It’s an only-for-mates day.’
I just know his girlfriend wouldn’t like Rockfest. It’d be too noisy and messy. It’s not for the beautiful people. Is Eddie going out with her because of her looks? Quickly I shake my head, blocking out the thought.
Rockfest. It’s ages away. Can’t wait. Lots of bands, including the one and only Insomniac Road.
Eddie and I talk about the bands, music, new albums. ‘The Black Bullets won’t be there,’ Eddie complains.
‘That’s a shame. They’ll have to get their fans to kill each other at another venue.’
‘Very funny.’
We become quiet as we get closer to home. Dad’s car is in the driveway.
I can’t remember exactly when Dad started travelling so much. Maybe five years ago? He really wanted to take the job. ‘It’s more money. A promotion.’ Mum didn’t want him to. ‘We’re a family. Let’s try and spend more time together, work things out, find out why you get so angry.’ He said there was nothing wrong. He wasn’t angry and that was it.
Afterwards things seemed to change permanently. He was like an eagle who’d fly in, make rules, sleep in Mum’s bedroom, change Mum into a doormat. Mum doesn’t think she’s a doormat, but she is when Dad’s home. The house is always scared with him in it. Mum says to us, ‘Don’t make trouble. We want to be happy.’ Happy? We wait for his smile or his mood to change. Sometimes it does. My stomach churns. I get flashes of Dad giving Eddie and me piggybacks at the park and Mum running excitedly beside us. But that was then. Not now.
Dinner is tense. Mum brings roast beef and baked vegetables to the table. Dad doesn’t like the brand of mustard. He asks the obligatory questions about school. He expects us to do well. Eddie avoids his questions and tries to impress him with sports achievements. Dad likes that. I don’t understand why Eddie bothers. Dad asks how I’m going in English and Maths. ‘Good,’ I say. He doesn’t ask about Music. I don’t practise my trumpet when he’s home. Dad hates hearing the sound ring through the lounge room. He hates a lot of things. ‘Why don’t you practise at school?’ ‘You haven’t improved much.’ ‘Turn off that music.’
Mum used to defend me, but in the end she became quiet. I became quiet too. I hate myself for not protesting. I still play Insomniac Road when he’s home. I listen in my bedroom, but not too loudly. See? I’m a coward.
After dinner I stack the dishes next to the sink. Mum nods to Eddie and me. It’s the sign that we can leave. I retreat into my bedroom and shut the door. I don’t want to hear Mum and Dad talking or arguing or even being silent.
Irina rings about music arrangements. Angie rings three times. I take out my guitar, strum some chords. No call from Karen. I ask Mum to tell me if Karen calls on the home phone.
‘Is everything all right? Mum asks quietly.
‘You know Karen.’
Mum understands. ‘Okay, I’ll get you if she rings.’
I try to call Karen again, but there’s no answer. Angie rings. She hasn’t heard from Karen either. I try calling Karen and leave a message. No call back from her. I start to feel nervous.
The house phone rings. Unfortunately Dad happens to be standing next to the phone and picks it up, but Mum is hovering. Mum’s voice is raised. ‘Karen?’
I come out of my room. ‘Karen’s supposed to be staying with her mother this week,’ I whisper to Mum.
Mr Sympathetic grunts a few words down the line, then hands the phone to Mum. ‘It’s that stupid woman,’ he mouths. I hate it when Dad calls Karen’s mother ‘that woman’. It’s the name reserved for Karen’s stepmother.
Dad shrugs, then picks up his newspaper.
For a change, Dad is half right. Karen’s mother may not be ‘that woman’, but she is stupid. She’s been ringing everyone, even Karen’s father. Why does she do that? It makes it worse for Karen and for her. Is she an idiot? It’s not as if Karen hasn’t done this before. She stays overnight at the beach or rolls up at a party or stays at my place. Lately she’s been crashing with a group of guys. I’ve pleaded with her not to stay there. She could get into trouble. ‘Come to my place,’ I’ve begged.
‘It’s not like that,’ she always replies with a smile. ‘We smoke, play music all night and it’s easy. Don’t worry.’ I worry.
I’m worried now.
‘No, Karen isn’t here.’ Mum’s voice is shaky. ‘She’ll be all right.’
Dad makes sarcastic comments in the background: ‘All right? That girl is crazy. She’ll never be all right.’ I hate it when he calls Karen ‘crazy’. When I say it, I still love her. He says it because he doesn’t.
Mum turns her back on him as she continues talking. ‘Yes, of course I’ll call you if Karen shows up.’ She puts down the phone, glaring at Dad. ‘Never say that. Never. Karen will be all right. She’ll be all right.’ Mum’s voice catches. My stomach knots.
‘It’s nothing to do with you.’ Dad looks down at his newspaper, like we’re the nothing ones.
‘But you know what’s been happening, between Karen’s parents. She’s just a girl.’ Mum catches her breath. ‘Like Pip.’
‘She’s not like Pip.’ Dad stares at me.
I look away. I may not be like Karen, but I am like her too. Dad doesn’t know me. Does he like me? Love me? He thinks I’m a failure, or at least he makes me feel like one.
Mum retreats to the kitchen. I watch her for a while. She wipes the kitchen benches in repetitive strokes. I watch Dad for a while. He’s reading his newspaper, staring down at the print. Why doesn’t he care? A sudden pain makes me gasp. He doesn’t care about Karen. I breathe deeply. Does he care about me or Mum or Eddie?
I scuttle into my room. Karen. I focus on Karen. Karen. I try her phone. No answer. I try again. And again. I turn on music, lie on my bed, think about Karen. At least I have Mum. Where has Karen gone? She’ll come back. She always does. Then there’ll be a scene.
I keep ringing but finally stop trying. Her phone is turned off. Call me, Karen. Call. I play the guitar.
Sometimes things get blurred
Between the truth and lies
Sometimes things get heard
Between my head and bed
Sometimes…
She’d better be at school tomorrow…
Monday morning. Karen is at the school gates.
‘Why didn’t you ring? You didn’t ring.’ I tug her jumper. ‘I was really worried.’
Karen just shrugs. Her voice is flat, emotionless. ‘You shouldn’t be. I can look after myself. I crashed at a friend’s place.’
Suddenly, I’m angry. ‘I’m a friend. Mum was really upset, and so was I.’ I glare at her. ‘It’s those guys, isn’t it? It is. Why do you go there? They use you.’
‘I use them.’ She rolls her hair into a knot, before it cascades down her back. ‘I don’t have sex w
ith them, if that’s what you think.’
I grab her arm hard. ‘It’s dumb. It dangerous.’
‘Dangerous?’ That wakes her up. She pretends to be seductive, turning her head towards me and swaying her hips. ‘They do what I want. There’s a guy there, Josh. Plays the saxophone really well. He’s in love with me. He’ll protect me. Not that I need any protection.’
Love. That stupid word again. Does Mum love Dad? Angie thinks she loves Christopher. Eddie loves a girl he doesn’t know. Josh, in love with Karen? Who is this guy? Another nobody. ‘You should’ve rung your mum. You know that.’
‘Well, I didn’t.’
I’m starting to hate Karen. ‘All right, if that’s the way it is…’ I don’t ask her any more questions and storm down the corridor.
Karen catches up with me. I refuse to look at her. She puts her arm around me. I push her away. She puts her arm around me again and her blonde hair brushes against my face. I stand still, not speaking, hardly breathing.
‘Come on, Pip, I’m sorry. I’m a bitch sometimes.’
‘I was worried.’
‘I know. Sorry. Say sorry to your mum too.’ She hesitates. ‘Just couldn’t stand things last night. Had to get away.’ She leans against the corridor wall. I lean beside her. ‘Mum said that once she’s finished renovating the terrace, she wants to sell it and start a new life with me and her boyfriend.’
‘That’s okay, isn’t it, Karen?’
‘Maybe. I don’t like her boyfriend much. And where’s she going? Running away from Dad, that’s all.’
‘But she wants to take you. It’ll be better.’
‘She won’t do it. It’s just talk.’ Karen shrugs. ‘Mum’s moved my bed into the kitchen while they renovate the lounge room. I have my clothes in the pantry. My jeans smell like pepper.’ She pretends to sneeze and I can’t help laughing. She laughs too. We laugh together and I forgive her, like I always do.
I phone Mum to tell her Karen is safe.
That's Why I Wrote This Song Page 5
