* * *
The trip out to Lakeside felt so different when it was with them. We’d come straight from school. Saanvi was behind the wheel of her mother’s Volkswagen, Mel in the front next to her, Cass and me in the back. We were blasting Janis Joplin, and screaming along with her ragged, soaring voice.
The windows were down and our hair whipped in the wind. With them, everything was fun. Everything that had seemed mundane before became an adventure. It had been over a month since we had destroyed Mr. Bitto, but it was the best time of my life.
“I can’t wait for you guys to meet Bea,” I yelled over the verse, leaning forward from the back.
“I want to meet Chucky!” squealed Cass next to me.
My mum had made good on her promise of a dog. We’d gone to the lost dogs home, and walked past cages of dogs with sad eyes. When we saw Chucky, we couldn’t keep walking. The plan had been to get a puppy. Chucky was a grandpa. He was at least seven years old, brown and white, with short legs and scraggly hair. We had no idea what breed of dog he was, but he had the biggest smile I’d ever seen. We couldn’t leave him behind.
“Turn left here,” I yelled.
“What?”
“Left!”
Saanvi spun the wheel, her tires squeaking as she took the corner. She turned the music down a bit, saying, “Fuck, this really is hillbilly country.”
“Yeah, it must take you forever to get to school,” Mel said.
“I kind of like it.” Cass looked around. “It’s so pretty out here. And peaceful. I like the idea of living out in nature.”
I looked at her, smiling.
“What?” she said. I’d noticed Cass was always worried she’d said something dumb.
“Just wait,” I told her, and to Saanvi, “Go right here.”
We turned the last corner.
“Whoa,” said Mel, as the gray mass of Lakeside appeared in front of us. Saanvi stopped at the gates.
“Yep,” I said.
Driving up the hill, I was glad when Mel turned the music off. It felt obnoxious in the silence. They all turned to look at the empty lake. I saw the cavern of mud through their eyes, the foraging crows.
“Is there anyone else living here?” Mel asked.
“Yeah, a few others. There’s a man that lives down that road. I saw him getting in his car once. My mum told me that there’s two women living in that house there.” We drove past a concrete house identical to all the others. “She thinks it’s an old lady and her daughter. And Bea says there are two guys right near us, brothers I think, but I haven’t seen them yet. We’re this one here on the left.”
Saanvi pulled in behind Mum’s station wagon. No one said anything. I can still remember the noxious taste that appeared in the back of my throat whenever I thought I’d displeased them. I looked at each of their faces, knowing they were judging me, knowing I shouldn’t have brought them there.
Then, a bark, and Chucky ran to meet the car.
“Aww!” Cass unclipped her seat belt and got out of the car, kneeling down on the road to pat him. He jumped up onto her knees and she squealed as he licked her face.
15
It’s harder than I thought to remember back to this time. Not the bad bits, I’ve always known they would be difficult. That’s why I’ve never said a word about what happened to anyone. No, it’s the nice memories that are painful to think of. I was so naive, so ready to give those girls everything: my loyalty, my trust, my devoted friendship. I was ready to spill every secret I ever had, to follow them to the ends of the earth. I guess the last bit turned out to be true, in some ways.
This room is getting stuffy. I’ve breathed the same air for too long. I can hear the electric hum of the fluorescent light. When I first arrived it was barely audible, but now it sounds loud. My head is beginning to throb, and my back aches from sitting down for so long in this hard plastic chair. I want to reposition myself, stretch out my limbs, let my muscles pop and my bones crackle, but I don’t. I stay still, muscles clenched and ready. It’s only my mind that is moving, almost too fast for me to keep up with, as I work out what I will tell you.
* * *
I want to say it felt natural to finally be friends with Mel, Cass and Saanvi, but that’s another lie. I’d thought that with them I could be my true self, but I couldn’t. I had already started to get worried, to get used to that noxious taste of doubt in the back of my throat, weeks before the night they slept over at my house.
In some ways though, I was happy. A simple, straightforward happiness, something I couldn’t remember feeling before. Something I haven’t experienced since.
That first lunchtime, the day after the career expo, I took my place with them on the damp grass of the oval. I was so used to watching their little triangle from a distance that it was surreal to be a part of it. To make it a square. I sat with my arms around my knees, grinning, while terrified they were going to tell me to go away.
“These are cool.” Mel tapped a black varnished fingertip onto my Doc Marten boots. She pulled her bag open and fished in the bottom for her Wite-Out pen. Shaking it, she leaned down over my feet. I looked at the top of her shiny head. Down her part, I could see rows and rows of hair follicles like shark teeth.
“Better.” She clicked the lid back on and returned the pen to her bag. She’d drawn a white love heart onto the cracked leather, with an arrow puncturing the middle. I’d already noticed the heart on all of their Docs. It was like a gang tattoo, a cattle stamp. It meant I was part of them. I was in.
Over the next month they taught me how to drink and how to do my hair. They introduced me to the band MGMT, and we screamed along to the words in bedrooms and cars and made plans to try ecstasy together. I learned that everything from the seventies was cool, the eighties were lame, it was okay to like Katy Perry ironically, but never Taylor Swift.
The first time we cut class we went to Saanvi’s house. I didn’t really want to cut, but I was elated just to be going along. Saanvi was the least sure on me. She’d never actually said anything, but I could tell that she didn’t really think I belonged. Still, they both followed whatever Mel said, so she couldn’t have the two of them over without inviting me as well.
Saanvi’s house was on a slim tree-lined grove off the grungy bars and cafés of Brunswick Street. From the outside, it didn’t look like a house, just a high dark brick wall with a door set into it. It went as long as three of the terrace houses before it though. When she pulled out her keys, I was glad, relieved to get off the street. I was trying to seem as relaxed as the rest of them, but I kept flinching every time I heard the crunch of a car turning onto the road, worried it would be a teacher.
Inside, her house was incredible. I’d never been to a place like this before. Usually we went to Mel’s and sometimes Cass’s, though not often because her mum was always crying. Mel and Cass both lived in houses about a million times nicer than mine, but not like this. Saanvi’s house was so modern, so full of big open spaces. The middle section was hollowed out through the whole three stories. There was a skylight, as well as huge windows around the top and a mezzanine entirely made up of bookshelves.
Mel and Cass flopped down on one of the pristine white sofas.
“Wish it was warm enough to go in the pool.” Saanvi threw off her bag and lay down on the cream carpet.
I knew I should sit down too, but I couldn’t stop looking around, wondering how it all worked. “Why do you have so many books?”
“Duh, so my parents can pretend to be smart.”
I shrugged and sat down on the very edge of the sofa, worried my dark jeans might leave a mark. Mel didn’t seem to care, she had her boots up on the cushion next to her, and was plaiting a lock of her hair in front of her face. I noticed that this was something she did when she was bored; the others seemed to always take it as a sign that they had to do something to enterta
in her. A light drizzle of rain began falling against the skylight above us, making that big airy house feel somehow dark and sinister.
“What do you guys want to do?” Cass asked, looking between Saanvi and me for ideas.
* * *
Just a few hours later I was standing over the toilet bowl, my jeans crumpled across the shiny white tiles.
“Are you doing it?” Mel called through the door.
“I don’t think it’s going to work. It’s too big.”
“We all did it! Of course it will work.”
I held the tampon in front of me by the string. It was puffed up like a cloud, almost an inch in width. Every few seconds a drip of vodka would fall from it, splashing into the toilet water.
It had been Mel’s idea. She said she’d seen it on some British current affairs program. It had been called a “youth epidemic,” but she’d never heard of anyone actually doing it. At first, Cass and Saanvi said no. I was relieved. I definitely didn’t want to try it either, but knew I would have to if the rest of them did. But somehow, while I was out of the room, she seemed to convince them.
We had slipped into Saanvi’s dad’s study.
“I know he keeps a bottle in here somewhere. I can smell it on his breath.”
“I can’t believe we are really doing this!” Mel put her arm around my waist and squeezed. I noticed Cass was quiet, and I tried to catch her eye. If I could get her to say she didn’t want to, then maybe I could get out of it too. She didn’t look at me.
Saanvi began looking through the drawers of the huge wooden desk. I wanted to ask what her dad did to warrant such an amazing home office. It must have been important.
“If it’s anywhere it’s got to be in here. Dad wouldn’t leave it somewhere my mum could find it. Bingo!” She pulled out a bottle of whiskey. The dark amber liquid rippled as she set it on top of a neat pile of papers.
“I don’t know.” My thighs clenched together protectively. “Does he have anything less...intense?”
“What? You want me to see if he’s got wine? Or beer? That would just be gross as well as pointless.”
“Yeah.” Mel let go of me. “Plus do you really want to put fermented grapes up your whoo-ha. I reckon that would give you thrush.”
“Whoo-ha?” Saanvi laughed, and begun rummaging through the next drawer, her face lit up. “Here. Perfect.”
She pulled out a slim frosted glass bottle. Belvedere vodka.
Mel said she’d go first.
Cass, Saanvi and I sat waiting in Saanvi’s room while Mel had disappeared into the bathroom with the bottle and a tampon.
“Why do people even do this?” Cass asked. She still wasn’t looking at me. She was sitting on the chair at Saanvi’s desk, picking at her cuticles.
“I think it’s so you can’t smell the booze on their breath,” Saanvi told her.
“Nah.” Mel opened the bathroom door. “It means it absorbs faster. Plus, less calories.”
Mel’s eyes were glowing. She grinned at me, then threw a tampon to Cass.
“You’re up. The bottle’s in there.”
Cass and Saanvi each took their turn, barely staying in the bathroom a few minutes each. They both said it was easy, it didn’t feel weird or anything. I was desperately hoping one of them would chicken out, but they didn’t.
“Bring the bottle in here,” Mel called to Saanvi when she came out. Mel looked up at me, that cold flicker in her eye, a look I wasn’t used to yet but came to know well. Saanvi passed the bottle over to her and Mel unscrewed the lid and took a sip.
“Not too much!”
“We can fill it up with water.”
“Yeah, I know, but if it’s more than a couple of inches he’ll notice.”
Mel just rolled her eyes. She put the bottle between her knees and unwrapped a tampon. Holding on to the string she let it fall in with a plop, like she was fishing.
“I can do it myself.” I reached for the bottle, but she jerked it out of the way.
“No. I know you’ll just leave it in for two seconds and not do it properly.”
That hurt, even if it was partly true. “I wasn’t going to do that.”
She ignored me, watching as the tampon began to bloat.
* * *
“Hurry up!” she was saying now, jiggling the handle. “Do you need me to come in and help you?”
“No!” I yelled, still staring at the dripping pendulum. “I just don’t know how you guys managed to get it in.”
“If a dick can fit in there, that thing definitely can,” Saanvi called.
“Ew,” I heard Cass say.
There was no point in hesitating. I knew I had to do it. I put one foot up on the toilet seat and tried to stuff the wet cotton inside me. A trickle of cold vodka ran through my fingers onto the plastic seat.
“It’s working,” I called. Sort of, at least. I heard them laughing and whispering, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. It was already starting to burn, but I pushed it up farther. Tears sprang to my eyes and I tried to blink them away. In that moment I wished more than anything I was still at school, bored at the back of English class.
I grabbed some toilet paper and rubbed at the liquid that was dribbling down my thighs, then pulled my jeans back on. It felt horrible. Like something big and sharp prickling at my insides.
When I opened the door Mel looked at me closely. “You did it?”
I nodded and she laughed again. I tried to laugh along with her. This was fun after all, an adventure. This was what I wanted. To be daring, to reach my full potential. To not be a scared little nerd just watching anymore. To really live.
“Is yours hurting at all?” I asked them.
“Mine is tingling a little bit,” Saanvi said.
“Yeah, I bet you love it too. It’s tingling in all the right places,” Mel said.
“Shut up!”
Mel grabbed my hand. “Let’s go out.”
I had to hold the banister as I walked down the spiral staircase. My legs were heavy, and my head woozy already. I reached for my backpack.
Mel pushed it out of the way with her foot. “Leave it. It makes it so obvious that we’re still at school.”
Walking back out through the door, my eyes hurt from the light. It wasn’t even five o’clock yet, and though it was overcast and still spitting with rain, the day felt too bright. I pulled my hood over my head and tugged at the cords so it tightened around my face.
“I think she’s smashed already,” I heard Cass whisper. I turned to them, wondering which one of us she meant.
“Come on.” Mel pushed me along. “Apparently they never bother to check for IDs at Bar Open before dark.”
I could hear them giggling and whispering again, but I didn’t listen. I raised my face up to the sky and felt the coldness of the misty rain on my cheeks. My insides were still burning a little, but otherwise I felt good. Light and free, the nervousness abated. I knew it had been a test; Mel didn’t think I would do it for some reason. But I had done it. I’d proven myself.
Cars whizzed down Brunswick Street, flicking dirty water up from the gutters. The four of us raced across the road, darting quickly in front of the cars. I almost slipped over on the wet tram tracks, then began laughing, almost hysterically.
“Stop it.” Mel’s face was humorless. “We won’t get in if you act so obviously drunk.”
“But don’t you guys feel it too?”
Cass put her hand on my shoulder and a finger to her lips. That made me want to giggle again, but I kept it in, nodding instead. A dampness was beginning to collect in my underwear, thank God I was wearing black jeans.
Bar Open had a small hand-painted sign in its grimy front window. Mel led the way, and we walked in without anyone seeming to notice. A noisy-sounding punk band squealed from the speakers as soon as we
pulled the door open. It was dingy inside, with a long bar across one side and small tables on the other. Past that, there were the toilets with painted murals on the doors and an outdoor area with a few heaters that was about a quarter full of people smoking. We took a table near two guys. They were much older than us, probably early thirties. One of them had a thick brown beard and the other was clean-shaven, but they were both wearing black denim jackets. They spoke slowly, sipping their beers and smoking, obviously good enough friends that they weren’t trying to entertain one another.
Mel looked over at them and smiled. “Hey.”
They nodded at her, then went back to their conversation. The dampness was worse now. It was beginning to inch down my leg, and the soggy denim felt horrible against my skin. Plus, the burning was getting worse. What before had been a sting, now felt scalding. I reshuffled myself on the bench, trying to somehow stifle it.
“Is yours burning? Mine is really burning.”
“Shut up,” Mel hissed, then turned back to the guys. She shot them a half smile and brushed her fingers through her hair. “Can I bum a cigarette?”
“Sure.” The guy with the beard leaned toward her with the packet outstretched. She slid the cigarette out slowly. He raised an eyebrow at her and turned back to his mate.
I twisted on my seat a bit more. It was really hurting. I gripped onto the table, the pain shooting through my abdomen. I looked over at the bathroom doors, the murals swimming slightly. I could duck in there and get rid of it; maybe the others would want to as well.
“I think I might take it out.”
“Don’t be such a fucking pussy,” Mel said, lighting the cigarette. “It’s fine. We’re fine and we did the same thing.”
It was true. Saanvi’s eyes looked alert, Cass was staring at the table but she looked like she was handling it okay.
“Maybe mine soaked up more or something?”
Mel didn’t answer. She was getting sick of me. I could tell. I was complaining too much. I was being annoying. She was right; the others had done the same thing and they weren’t whining like I was. My head was starting to pound, but I forced myself just to breathe. I clenched my thigh muscles but that only seemed to make it worse.
The Spite Game Page 8
