Blue Water High

by Shelley Birse

  Fly just nodded – massive problem.

  ‘Except Perri that is. I have more footage of Perri than I know what to do with. Guess I could sell it on the internet. She’d probably buy the lot.’

  They sat in silence, watching the waves rock in.

  ‘Yeah, so I guess I wondered if you wanted to talk about Anna’s phone bill.’

  Fly’s temperature suddenly hit the roof. Her face was on fire. How did Heath know about that bit?

  Heath gave her a smile. ‘It’s alright. Anna knows too. She’s known for a week.’

  Fly’s head was reeling. Anna had known, and she hadn’t said anything? She thought back over every encounter she’d had with Anna over the last week. They were all the same. Nice, kind, normal.

  ‘I shouldn’t be here.’ Suddenly it was pouring out. ‘I’m just not … everyone else is so … together. And that’s why I lied. ‘Cause I just felt so stupid. So young and so … stupid.’

  Heath just nodded, gave her the space to go on.

  ‘I mean, I don’t even know how to switch off a mobile call! And I think Deb and Simmo got it wrong when they picked me in the first place.’

  ‘So, according to your logic, Deb and Simmo aren’t to be trusted, and they’re not very good judges of character?’

  Fly didn’t answer. She was confused by where this was headed.

  ‘And if they wouldn’t know a good surfer from a watermelon, then they probably got it wrong when they picked the rest of us too. Which would mean none of us deserve to be here.’

  ‘That’s not what I’m saying.’

  Heath nodded some more. ‘No offence, but I don’t think you know what you’re saying … And that’s cool too.’

  They sat in silence while the waves pounded in on the shore. Then Heath suddenly jumped up. ‘Come on. There’s something I want you to see.’

  The rest of the gang were in the front yard. As they saw Heath and Fly approaching there were howls of distress. They weren’t finished yet. Heath was supposed to keep her there for at least ten minutes.

  Fly saw what they hadn’t quite finished, but she had no clue what it was. It was a stick. A signpost, sort of, with lots of arrows pointing in different directions. Bec pointed to Heath – it was his idea, he should do the explaining.

  Heath shrugged. ‘It’s a reality check.’ He pointed to the sign. ‘Here’s Bec – 6 k from home. Then me – Ballina: 598.4 kilometres.’

  He reached for another arrow. ‘Perri – Gold Coast: 684.8 kilometres; Edge – Melbourne: 715 kilometres; Matt – King Island: 938 kilometres; and here’s you – Margaret River: 3314 kilometres. And then, lucky last …’ He looked at Fly. ‘See, it’s not always you. Anna – Hamburg: 16,300 kilometres. Anyway, it was just to kind of remind us that we’re all a long way from home. And it’s okay to feel homesick every now and then.’

  Fly felt overwhelmed. She imagined them at breakfast, talking about her mobile bungling, about how she was homesick.

  ‘Nothing’s private here, is it?’

  Heath thought about it for a bit. And then he shook his head.

  Nothing was really private in Fly’s household either. Six girls, two bedrooms. It would have been impossible. But that was family. It was different. The Watsons kept their stuff to themselves. As far as Fly knew, everyone did. At least everyone in Capel, population 750, 200 k from the nearest 7-Eleven. But she was about to be shown there were benefits in giving the privacy thing up.

  As news of her situation had spread around the boarding house, the number of heads on it had grown. More heads meant more chances of coming up with a plan. And they had come up with one. A plan which would pay back the cost of the damage to George’s machine, cover Anna’s phone bill and deal with that pesky community service issue.

  Saturday was George’s busiest day at the car wash. And with a busted machine, it was the day when he would lose the most money, thanks to Fly. But Fly’s friends from the academy were there at seven o’clock in the morning, pumped and ready to go. Heath and Fly filled buckets, Edge and Bec got together seven kits of cleaning equipment, and Perri and Matt spruiked on the street corner.

  ‘Roll right on in for the finest car wash you’ll ever have,’ hollered Matt.

  ‘Half the donations go to the Blue Water Life Saving Club’s Annual Appeal!’ added Perri unhappily.

  She had protested hard that the surf club, after Casey’s appalling behaviour, didn’t deserve a cent. She still had no idea how she lost that one. There was some weird argument about them beating Casey with kindness, confusing him into friendship. Because the truth was, he was the man who was going to save their backsides if things went wrong in the surf. Whether they liked it or not, they needed him. Perri didn’t care. She made a pledge never to need rescuing as long as she lived.

  The first car up was a blue hatchback. It belonged to Deb and Fly knew for a fact that it did not need a wash. But Deb was insistent – she wanted the works, full interior too. Fly hesitated, she didn’t know if she could get back into Deb’s car. It just felt too soon. Instead Heath did the honours, reminding Deb that she needed to make sure George signed off their forms at the end of the day so their community service duties were done.

  Later in the day a stream of cars with huge price tags draped across the windscreens drove in. Bec gave Fly a wink. ‘My dad always comes through when you need him.’

  Bec’s dad owned a local car yard and she’d called him that morning and put the hard word on him to bring the cars down and have them washed for a good cause. Fly stood there in the middle of it. She didn’t know what to do with all this kindness.

  At the end of the day, they were all wet and supremely smelly, but they’d made enough to cover the repairs to George’s machine. Anna’s mobile bill still needed to be covered, but they reckoned they could knock that off the following weekend. Fly sat there on a milk crate, drinking one of George’s free bottles of water, Jilly’s words about family and relying on each other ringing in her ears. She was even beginning to think privacy was seriously overrated.

  Chapter 12

  The days were starting to shrink. They might’ve just felt shorter because life at the academy meant there was some kind of activity jammed into every single spare second of the day – training before school, training after school, surfing theory, housework, homework, and maybe the odd hour of sleep squeezed in there as well.

  But the days themselves were getting shorter too. The earth was doing that thing it did, lounging back on its axis, deciding by degrees that it was someone else’s turn for the summer sun. Further around the planet there were other kids dragging their swimmers from the back of the drawer. At Solar Blue, they were all starting to keep their sun shirts on for warmth instead of protection.

  She’d heard people talking about autumn in a sad way, like it was the end of something, but Fly loved it. The crispness of the morning and the chill creeping around the back edges of the afternoon always made her appreciate that warm patch sandwiched in the middle even more.

  Maybe she was feeling so full of the joys of autumn because she was finding her groove. As the weeks romped by Fly got to see she wasn’t the only one with problems. Heath struggled at school – it was like his brain was hardwired to digital and he just couldn’t make sense of the whole ‘pen and paper’ thing. Anna couldn’t seem to crack the surfing code yet. Perri got in the middle of an awful catfight between two groups of girls at school. Fly didn’t get girls sometimes. She didn’t understand the claws that always seemed so ready to spring out and scratch you. It made her like Bec, Anna and Perri even more. Even though they were in serious competition with each other, there was rarely a scratch between them.

  And then there was the fact that autumn also meant her birthday was around the corner. Anna had asked what she wanted to do. It was the first birthday in the boarding house, they should do something. Fly didn’t care as long as it didn’t involve ice-skating or going to a G-rated film. Even though Mr Exeter was a bit of a noodle, he’d been
right about one thing. Fly was the youngest in her year, and she’d always been the youngest in her year. Back home, when all her friends were celebrating their sixteenth birthdays doing something that felt a bit grown-up, Fly had only been up to fifteen. And her fifteenth had been a complete embarrassment. Fly’s parents took all her friends to a – you guessed it – G-rated film and, at the end, they’d presented her with a pair of satin shortie pyjamas with the cartoon characters from the movie all over them. It wasn’t their fault. They meant well.

  Fly heard no talk of a birthday plan as the countdown to the day wound on. She didn’t really mind if nothing happened. She knew how busy everyone was. She crawled into bed on the eve of her fifteenth birthday just happy to be where she was. There was nothing more she could imagine wanting – which was why the dream she cooked up that night freaked her out so much.

  Somewhere around four am the night-time cinema cranked up in Fly’s head. Dramatic strings swelled and there was a swish of scarlet fabric. Then Fly saw herself, standing on the promenade of the beach, at the top of a flight of concrete stairs down to the sand. She was wearing a floor-length red ballgown, and her hair was piled up in a crazy concoction of curls … Fly reached up to touch the curls – even in her dream they seemed alien to her. She looked down at the dress – definitely from another planet – and then she reached down and lifted the skirt up to her knees. She had battered runners on her feet. She smiled with relief; she hadn’t completely lost her mind.

  And then, at the bottom of the stairs, Heath suddenly appeared. He was wearing a tuxedo jacket, but below were the boardies, and under his arm, his trusty surfboard. In her dream she had wishfully willed the Tangaroa back into one piece. Heath smiled up at her like she was Angelina Jolie. Then he got down on one knee and held out a plate with a piece of toast on it. In the middle of the toast sat a small square of butter, and from each side of the butter sprouted large and beautiful butterfly wings.

  ‘I made you something to eat.’

  Fly didn’t know what to make of the toast.

  Heath put the plate down and held out a hand to Fly.

  ‘I’m here to save you from a life of eternal mateship, Fly. I’m here to banish buddies and mates and chums and pals and boys who just want to be friends.’

  Fly was surprised at his ability to keep a straight face through these words. Everything was starting to feel very spooky to her. Heath gestured again for her to join him. She looked down and the stairs suddenly seemed very steep and scary. They were covered in broken glass and enormous fishhooks and rabbit traps.

  ‘Come on, Fly. You can do it.’

  She wasn’t sure if she walked down the stairs or not, because the next bit was in the water. She was sitting on her surfboard, red dress and all. Heath was on his own board near her, arm still outstretched, still waiting for an answer.

  ‘But … all my boyfriends have a gap. Boy … friend. Boy … friend. See the gap? Very different to boyfriend. No gap – very different thing.’

  Heath just smiled knowingly and paddled closer to her.

  Enormous rubber ducks floated all around them and Heath had to push some out of the way.

  ‘I’m here to close the gap, Fly. It’s time. There doesn’t need to be a gap.’

  He reached out to her. Fly could hear violins building to a crescendo as he loomed in toward her, puckering up.

  Fly lay in bed smiling, savouring the kiss of her life. Then her eyes sprang open. She looked around suspiciously, a sudden dawning of what she’d just dreamed up for herself. And then the nerves kicked in. She sat up fast. Anna was sitting on her own bed. She was looking at Fly and Fly hoped, with all her heart, that she hadn’t been puckering up in her sleep. She blushed to the tips of her ears just thinking about it.

  ‘You alright?’ Anna asked. ‘You look like a beetroot.’

  Fly rubbed her face. No way known was she about to give Anna the real answer.

  Anna had other plans anyway. She cleared her throat and started to sing.

  ‘Hoch soll sie leben

  Hoch soll sie leben

  Dreimal hoch!’

  Fly attempted a smile. She nodded stiffly.

  ‘I guess you can work out what I meant from the tune.’ Anna marched over and reefed back Fly’s doona. ‘Come on. You can’t spend your birthday in bed.’

  Anna headed out of the room but Fly stayed exactly where she was. Staying in bed the whole day was exactly what she wanted to do now. Kissing scared her. She knew it must be good, otherwise everyone wouldn’t be so obsessed by it. But since that day in Year 7 with Marbles Wickham the thought of kissing made her blood run cold.

  She was still trying not to think about Marbles Wickham when Heath, Matt, Perri, Edge and Bec charged into her room. They manhandled her out of bed and Heath started tying a coloured bandanna around her eyes.

  ‘What are you doing, Heath?’

  ‘We’re going on an adventure, Fly. A birthday adventure. And you’re just going to have to trust us.’

  ‘I’m in my pyjamas.’

  This caused them all to stop. Hmm. She was right.

  Bec took over. ‘Boys out.’

  She turned to Fly. ‘You’ve got three minutes to get dressed, and then the bandanna goes back on.’

  Three minutes later they were leading a blindfolded Fly through the kitchen. She could hear Perri whispering something to Anna on the way, but she couldn’t make out the words.

  ‘Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?’

  Heath hesitated. ‘Not this little black duck.’ He looked to the others. ‘Any other volunteers?’

  The other kids must’ve shaken their heads.

  ‘Nope? Sorry, Fly, no-one wants to share at this stage. You’ll just have to wait.’

  Even the sound of Heath’s voice was spooking her. She decided to shut up and do what she was told.

  It was strange, this sudden sightlessness. Fly remembered reading about Helen Keller when she was little. It was one of the first grown-up books she ever read and she’d loved it. It made her feel tough and strong too, even though her life was so soft compared to Helen’s. After ten minutes of this temporary blindness Fly was ready to scream.

  She worked out that they’d walked her out of the boarding house and up the street. It didn’t take a genius to work out that they’d then gotten onto a bus. She could hear Heath and Edge, Perri and Bec, but there was no sign, or at least sound, of Matt or Anna. They stayed on the bus for more than two hours. She’d tried to keep track of which way they were headed, but this city was so big, and even after three months Fly had only ventured a couple of suburbs away from the boarding house in either direction.

  While the others chatted or read books or stared out the window, Fly was trapped behind that blindfold. Trapped inside her own head. And guess who popped up to join her? Marbles Wickham.

  Marbles and Fly had been friends forever. His family owned the property next door and Fly couldn’t count the number of times the two of them had gone riding, camped out, fished in the dams, talked rubbish. He was her mate. She didn’t know if he was good-looking or not. She’d known him so long it was like he didn’t even have a face anymore. She didn’t talk to Marble’s face, she talked to his brain. And that’s why it was so weird, when they started Year 7, that everyone started talking about them hanging out together. Like ‘hanging out’, not just, you know, hanging out.

  For the first couple of months nothing really changed – riding, fishing, talking rubbish. If this was having a boyfriend, Fly didn’t think it was such a big deal after all. But having a boyfriend was a public affair at Fly’s school. People kept track of you, of where you were up to on some imaginary scale of seriousness – what you’d done, what you hadn’t done yet. She didn’t know how people knew – she hadn’t told them – but people knew she and Marbles hadn’t kissed. And it clearly bothered them.

  It bothered them enough to do something about it. Fly remembered coming out to lunch on that scorching summer day at the en
d of the first term. She usually hung out with a group of kids near the concrete basketball courts. They talked, ate, played handball. And sure, Marbles was one of them. They did this every day. But there was a different vibe on the court that day. There were more people and they clumped about in groups, gossiping in excitement about what was About To Happen …

  They’d arranged that Marbles and Fly would have their first kiss – in public! She still didn’t know why she didn’t just tell them all to take a flying leap, but there was a weird energy about the whole thing. There was no room to get a word in and before she knew what was happening Fly and Marbles were standing in the middle of a ring of other kids who were counting them in.

  Five … four … three … two …

  Fly froze. Marbles leaned towards her. The cicadas screamed. Fly ducked him. And then she ran the other way. She could still hear the howling of laughter in her ears.

  Marbles had said that he understood. But things were never quite the same again between them. For Fly it confirmed a whole heap of stuff she already suspected – romance could wait. Not that she had any cause for worry. Marbles was the only boy who ever looked at her sideways. Maybe because she was small. Maybe because she was the youngest. Maybe because what she’d said in the dream was right – boys thought of Fly as a mate … Or maybe, after the incident at the basketball courts, she had a big fat sign on her head saying THIS ONE DOESN’T KISS.

  The bus shuddered to a stop and Fly allowed her friends’ hands to guide her down the stairs. She could hear the ocean, smell its salty breath. One pair of hands stayed resting on her shoulder. She patted the hand quickly, trying to work out who it was, and she ended up following the arm right up to the head. She felt Heath’s hair, thick and black like his mother’s. She jumped.

  ‘Oh, Heath. It’s you,’ she mumbled. After the dream she was finding herself totally incapable of being normal around him, stumbling and bumbling like a loony.

  ‘Fly? Are you alright?’