The Spite Game

by Anna Snoekstra

  “I’ll have to check your bag, sorry,” the checkout girl said, looking embarrassed as she approached.

  “Check it,” Saanvi said, throwing her handbag onto the counter. She glanced around then, and I ducked back behind the wine shelves just in time.

  I looked back to see the girl withdraw the packet of batteries from Saanvi’s bag.

  “What?” Saanvi’s face was stricken. “I didn’t. I mean, they must have fallen in there or something, honestly.”

  “I have to call my manager,” the girl said.

  “Seriously, I didn’t mean to,” Saanvi was whispering now, clearly mortified.

  “I have to call my manager,” the girl said again, raising her eyebrows.

  22

  @EllieDore: Looking forward to drinks tonight with @SaanviChabra. It’s been too long! Meyers Place?

  @SaanviChabra: Yeah, sounds good. I need a drink. Or ten.

  Meyers. It’d taken me a while to find the right place. There was no bar called Meyers Place, only an alleyway with that name at the north end of the city. Eventually I found it, on a blog of course. It was a tiny hole-in-the-wall that was too cool to even have a name, so everyone just called it by the name of the alleyway.

  After leaving Celia’s house, I went straight home to get ready. I slicked my hair back tight, and was in the midst of piling on some eye makeup when Bea came into my room.

  “Oh. That looks...different,” she said.

  I sniggered. I looked like an absolute poser, which was the point. The bar was tiny, so it was going to be hard to prevent Saanvi from seeing me at all. With my hair like this, plus the makeup, I looked nothing like I had back in high school. If I wanted to remain invisible, I had to fit in.

  “You don’t have to go to so much effort though,” Bea said. “It’s just dinner.”

  I turned to look at her, the question on my lips, when I remembered. Fuck. The stupid celebration dinner.

  “I mean,” she continued, “it’s nice though. Aiden says he wants to go somewhere really good and even Evan is coming. Poor Mum isn’t going to know what to do. She never gets the house all to herself.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked, trying desperately to think of a way out of it.

  “I dunno. Somewhere not too far away I guess. Although, everywhere remotely close is pretty crap. Greensborough, maybe?”

  I stared at her for a moment and saw her face changing, as though she could sense my head rattling around for excuses. I could already see disappointment there.

  “Fuck Greensborough,” I said instead. “Let’s go to the city! There’s this Mexican place that’s meant to be really good.”

  “But it’s ages away!”

  “Not really, once you get on the freeway it’s basically the same. Plus if it’s going to be a celebration, we’ve got to do it properly.”

  Her face lit up and she ran over to hug me. I felt myself stiffen, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “How lucky am I?” she asked, her cheek pressed to mine.

  * * *

  We all piled into Aiden’s car. Him and Bea in the front, me and Evan in the back, like children being ferried to school by their parents.

  “New look?” Evan asked me.

  I shrugged.

  “I like it,” he said, and smiled. “Makes you look sort of like a raccoon.”

  He was acting as if yesterday hadn’t happened, which I was grateful for.

  “Fuck off,” I said.

  “It was a compliment! I love raccoons. They’re probably the best-looking pests in the world. Think about it. Rats, horrible. Locusts, worse. No one wants to look like a locust.”

  “What about rabbits?” Bea turned to ask, as Aiden started up the car.

  “Bea, why did you go there? I was trying to be nice to your sister. We all know there’s nothing cuter than a rabbit.”

  “Just shut up,” I said.

  “I like it when they clean their little ears with their paws,” Bea said.

  They spoke about rabbits for a while, but I stopped reacting, so they got tired of it. I was trying to think of a way to get away. To find an excuse to leave them so I could go to the bar. I could fake an important phone call from a friend maybe. Or say I wasn’t feeling well and wanted a walk by myself to get some air.

  “These tacos better be worth it,” Evan said, after we’d been driving for twenty minutes. They were starting to get restless.

  “They’ll be great!” I said.

  “Maybe we should play a car game?” Bea asked.

  “No bloody way,” I said.

  We sat in silence for a while, listening to the low voices on the talk radio Aiden had tuned into. Evan turned to me.

  “Have you ever heard of Mr. Cruel?” he asked.

  “Nah. Stupid name.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Who’s he?”

  “He’s a Melbourne one, you know? He abducted three kids from their houses in the eighties. He’d just go right into their homes while their family was asleep and take them, then would drop them off somewhere different the next day.”

  “Dead?”

  “Nah, alive. Until the third one, who they couldn’t find for a year, but then a bush walker tripped on a little skull. Scariest bit is, they never caught him.”

  “So he could still be alive?” I asked.

  “Evan, what the hell is wrong with you?” Aiden snapped from the front.

  Evan shrugged. “Are you actually asking me? The list is pretty long. Hey, maybe that could be the car game? Guess all the things that are fucked-up about Evan.”

  “Um, bad dental hygiene?” I asked.

  He bared his teeth at me. “Nope. Brush twice a day.”

  “I know—weird taste in music.”

  “That’s actually true,” Bea said from the front, looking over her shoulder with a twitch of a smile.

  “No way. You guys don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You have the musical taste of a twelve-year-old girl,” I told him.

  He nudged me with his shoulder. “Not true.”

  “Very true. I think I actually heard you listening to Shakira once? Shakira? I don’t think twelve-year-olds even listen to her anymore.”

  “One, Shakira is awesome,” he said. “Two, you think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

  He leaned over me, his seat belt making a ripping sound, and started trying to tickle me. He smelled so good.

  “Stop it!” I said, batting him away. His hands were hot against my skin.

  His tickles changed, and his finger traced the skin next to the strap of my singlet softly. I wanted to close my eyes, to really feel the jolt in my stomach, the prickles in my skin.

  “Stop!” I said. “I haven’t shaved my underarms in months.”

  That worked. He pulled away, looked at me surprised, then sat back on his side. I caught a look between Bea and Aiden.

  * * *

  When we got to the restaurant, there was a line up the stairs.

  “Don’t need to line up in Greensborough,” Aiden said.

  “It’ll be worth it, trust me,” I said. “Apparently the food here is amazing.”

  Really, I had no idea. I only knew of it because it had been mentioned in the same blog post as Meyers Place. I also still had no idea how I was going to get from here to the bar. I couldn’t leave by myself—it would never work. They could come with me, but then what would be the point? I wouldn’t be able to hear a word Saanvi and her friend were saying. Plus, Bea had met Saanvi once. It was only briefly, that night they slept over at my house, but it was still possible they might recognize one another.

  The line didn’t last long, and soon we were seated near one of the two huge square windows. Luckily for me, it was really nice. The lights were low orbs, filling the place
with a soft, warm glow. The furniture was a mix of light wood and soft leather, and behind the bar was a huge black-and-white photograph of a Mexican woman in the 1940s. The air was filled with a spicy scent, and the music was only just rising above the rumble of different conversations around us.

  “This is actually pretty cool,” Evan said.

  “Yeah, good one, Ava.” Bea was grinning as she looked around. “I’m glad we picked somewhere special.”

  The waitress approached, large paper menus tucked under her arm. She put them on the table and asked if we wanted any drinks.

  “I’ll have a margarita!” Bea said. She’d been doing well lately; she hadn’t had a seizure since the one in the shower almost two years ago.

  “Me too,” I said.

  “Make that three,” Evan said.

  “I’m fine with water,” Aiden told her, and then off Bea’s look, “I’m driving!”

  “Oh come on,” she said, “you’ll be okay with just one.”

  “Alright,” he said, “four.”

  “And some guacamole!” I added.

  * * *

  The drinks were amazing, and the food was going to be great if the guacamole was anything to go by. Bea was talking happily about her agent, and about how they were putting her forward to illustrate a picture book this week.

  “Honestly,” she said, “it’s like all my dreams are coming true.”

  “What about you?” Aiden asked me. “Do you think you’ll go back to uni, finish your degree?”

  “Dunno,” I said. “Maybe.”

  “You’ll probably have to,” Bea was saying. “Nancy’s giving you a great deal, but it can’t last forever.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  It felt like everyone had suddenly gotten obsessed with jobs and careers and success in the last few years. I took a sip of my drink and checked the time under the table. Saanvi would probably be at the bar by now. She’d be sitting with her friend, telling her all about her life. No matter how much you watched someone, you could never see inside their head. I needed to know how Saanvi was feeling, what she thought about everything that I had been doing to her. I needed to get out of here.

  “I guess this is as good a time as any,” Bea was saying. I realized I’d tuned out.

  “Hang on, what?” I said.

  “Aiden and I have some news.”

  “Fuck,” said Evan, “you’re not pregnant, are you?”

  “No!” said Bea, picking up her margarita glass and shaking the ice at him.

  “We’ve decided to move in together,” Aiden said, watching Evan carefully.

  “Oh,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Evan said.

  “Wait, in our house or theirs?” I asked.

  “In mine,” Aiden said.

  I didn’t want Bea to move. I didn’t want anything to change, but I forced a grin. “That’s really great! At least we’ll still be neighbors.”

  At the same time, Evan’s chair pulled back, squeaking on the floor. He didn’t say anything, just rose up turned his back and walked down the stairs. We all stared after him.

  “Oh no.” Bea’s forehead furrowed. “I hope he doesn’t think we wanted him to move out. I would never want that!”

  It was my chance.

  “I’m really, really happy for you,” I said, “but I think I should go after him.”

  “No,” said Aiden, “I will.”

  I stood up before he could. “Honestly, he’ll be more likely to talk to me. He just needs some time to process it.”

  “She’s probably right,” Bea said, looking like she might burst into tears.

  I took her hand and squeezed it. “Order dinner, have fun. We’ll go for a walk or something and come back. Okay?”

  I didn’t wait for an answer. I went straight down the stairs, shimmying and nudging past the people waiting for a table, and out into the hot summer night.

  * * *

  I found Evan sitting at the tram stop across the road. I crossed over and sat down next to him, the silver metal of the seat feeling cold against my thighs.

  “That was really juvenile,” he said, staring at his knees.

  “Sort of, but who cares,” I told him. “Where are you going?”

  “Home, I guess.”

  “You could do that,” I said. “It’ll take you ages though.”

  “Are you going to try to convince me to go back up? It’s not about Bea—really I like her—it’s just...”

  “No,” I said, “I was thinking maybe we should go get a drink somewhere?”

  He looked up at me, surprised. “That’d be great.”

  “I know a place that’s close.”

  “Awesome,” he said, eyes smiling. I led the way.

  I’d found the bar on my map before we came, but still I wasn’t sure if we were in the right place. There was a high brick wall on one side of the lane, and small alleyways coming off on the other that stank of piss.

  “I knew it,” Evan said.

  “Knew what?”

  “You never wanted a drink. You brought me here to kill me.”

  “I think it’s just across there,” I said, as we went past a parking lot. I was expecting another dirty alley, but sure enough, there were lights and some people sitting on upturned milk crates smoking cigarettes.

  As we got closer my heart started thumping. I was afraid the bar was going to be too small, that Saanvi would see me straightaway. That she’d recognize me. We rounded into it, and to my relief I saw the back of her glossy-haired head. She was sitting up at the bar, talking to a girl on the stool next to hers, her back to the entrance.

  “This place looks great,” Evan said, smiling widely at me.

  The bar was small, with just a few booths, shrouded from each other with low bookcases. It was a bit grimy, but with its warm orange lights and wood-paneled walls, it felt cozy.

  “Beer?” I asked.

  “Sure. I’m going to go wee.”

  “Don’t call it that.”

  I leaned against the bar. Saanvi was so close I could have reached out and touched her, but her back was to me and she didn’t turn around. Luckily, the bartenders seemed more interested in talking to each other than looking at me, so I could listen.

  “Are you sure?” Saanvi was saying.

  “Absolutely. If you want to.”

  “I do. Really, that would be fantastic.”

  “I’ll text the others but I’m sure it’ll be fine. But I thought you liked your own space?”

  “I thought I did too. But I dunno—”

  “Hey.” The bartender was looking at me.

  “Hi,” I said. “Two pints?”

  “Coming right up.” He winked at me as he flicked the beer tap, which was weird. I turned away.

  “It’s just so odd,” Saanvi’s friend was saying.

  “I know.”

  “No, I don’t mean going crazy. Anyone would go crazy working for that jerk-off. I can’t believe he still has you doing renders—that’s so shit. And still only being paid as a student is probably illegal you know.”

  “I know, but he said he’d look over my designs, which is good. And really, I’m lucky to even have the job.”

  “I don’t know. I was miserable for ages graduating and not finding work, but to be honest I think I prefer what I’m doing now.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. But anyway, that’s not what’s odd. I just think it’s bizarre that you chose batteries. Who steals batteries? Avocados, sure, they’re like five dollars each these days. But batteries? Plus they are like the only thing that has a security—”

  “Sixteen bucks,” the bartender said.

  I looked at him, not comprehending for a minute. He looked from me down to the beers.

  “Oh yeah,” I said,
pulling out my wallet.

  “Long day?” he asked.

  “Not really,” I said, passing him a twenty. He sniggered as he put my money into the till.

  “Anytime really would be—” I heard.

  “Here’s your change,” he said, smiling at me again.

  “Great.”

  I slid the beers off the bar. Evan was sitting at the closest booth, within hearing distance of Saanvi and her friend. I slid in across from him and set down the drinks on the table between us.

  “I think that bartender was flirting with you,” he said.

  “Don’t think so,” I said, feeling so happy I could burst. It was working. She thought she was crazy.

  “Why wouldn’t he be? You look hot.”

  My face went cold, but I laughed as if I thought he was teasing me. “Fuck off.”

  He held up his hands. “Just saying.”

  I took a gulp of my beer and winced at the bitterness of it. “Not really as good as the margarita.”

  “I guess,” he said. “God, you know, now I feel terrible.”

  “They don’t want to kick you out or anything,” I said, only half listening. I was trying to think of something. Another way of making Saanvi think she was crazy. Make her friend think it too.

  “That’s good,” he said, then he rubbed his hands down his face. “I’m being stupid. I guess it’s just because my mum didn’t want me around and it never felt like my dad did, and now I feel like I should probably move out.”

  “Don’t move out,” I said, focusing now. “Seriously, it’d be shit there without you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Plus, I’m too old to be living at home too. You’re younger than me.”

  “Barely.”

  “Yeah, but still. If Bea moves out, then you move out, I’ll have to move out, and I don’t want to.”

  “Why?” he said. “I mean, Lakeside sucks. There’s not even a lake, for one! I would have thought you’d be dying to move back closer to the city. Live with friends and stuff.”

  “Nah,” I said, “I hated it to begin with, but not anymore. But why don’t you want to?”

  He looked at me as if he was going to say something serious, but he didn’t.