Smart Girls Don't Wear Mascara

by Cecily Paterson

  I felt a teeny bit offended by the question.

  ‘Can I learn? I’m the smartest girl at school,’ I blurted. And then I got in control of myself again. ‘I mean, yeah, totally. I’m really good at learning. I get the top marks in everything.’

  Francesca studied my face. ‘Being smart, you know, is different from learning. This “good marks and everything”, it comes from here.’ She pointed to her head. ‘But learning, and learning for music, this comes from here.’ She put her two hands on her middle and pressed in. Confused, I put my hands on my own middle and pressed in as well, copying her. She smiled.

  ‘Not this,’ she said. ‘Not like this. It is the heart.’

  Now I was totally confused. ‘Oh. Okay. The heart,’ I said. I brought my fingernail up to my mouth and chewed it for a second. ‘Um, do you know any more songs from Annie?’

  Francesca laughed again. I didn’t think I was trying to be funny, but I smiled anyway.

  ‘Yes, I do, darling.’ She walked over to a white shelf filled with folders. ‘And you will sing them. And you will learn. You will see.’

  For the rest of the hour, Francesca taught me voice exercises, corrected my posture and breathing, and had me make silly noises through my nose. I followed along as best I could and only really felt happy when, at the end, she got out a music book full of Annie songs.

  ‘Which one do you like?’ she asked, pointing to the list on the front page.

  ‘All of them,’ I grinned. ‘They’re like my favourite songs in the whole world.’

  ‘You have to pick one,’ she said. ‘Which one speaks to you?’

  ‘Speaks to me?’ I laughed. ‘They sing to me. Geddit?’ I grinned at her.

  ‘No, no, no. Which song speaks to you—here?’ And she pressed into her stomach with both hands again.

  I stopped trying to make jokes and looked at the list. I pointed to the word ‘Maybe’ halfway down the page. Whenever I heard Alicia Morton from the old movie version sing it, it gave me goose bumps.

  ‘This is a good one,’ said Francesca, looking right up into my face. ‘It will do.’

  At the end of the hour, I walked out of the white door and down the steps, through the roses to my bike. Everything seemed brighter than before. Lighter. And I felt calm, for some reason. Like, really, really calm. So much that even riding up the hill to home was like floating instead of fighting.

  At dinner, Dad asked how the lesson was and I hardly had the words to say.

  ‘It was ... really ...’ I tried. ‘I don’t know. It was good.’

  And that was all that came out. The rest of it stayed inside, like it was my own special secret that no one else should know; this bursting of happiness, this music that filled me to my toes.

  Dad made eyebrows at Mum and she shrugged and said, ‘Well, you won’t be too upset if it doesn’t work out, right?’

  I pretended to not hear them but when I’d finished dinner, I went into my room, shut the door and practised everything Francesca had shown me. Mouth shape, diaphragm, relaxed throat, feel the music, sing down and out through your fingers and toes, so it came out through your skin.

  I was going to be a singer.

  Definitely.

  Chapter 7

  Surprisingly, it turned out to be easier to do Smart Girls Club stuff after school, when the three of us were on our own. Originally, when I had thought the whole thing up, I kind of imagined lunch times sitting under the Big Tree, making plans and writing down club rules. But most times we sat on the Year Six seats as Buzz talked to Ollie and Jessie looked on.

  ‘But it doesn’t matter that much,’ I told Francesca in my third lesson. I was now calling the piano Celeste, and Francesca and I had gotten on good chatting terms pretty quickly. ‘We’ve got the headquarters in case we need it, and we’ve had two play dates and an official club sleepover already. Plus, we’re making a scrapbook about ourselves. It’s pretty awesome.’

  ‘Sounds like everything is under control,’ Francesca said, turning towards Celeste and flipping through a pile of music. ‘What is the, how do you say it, the purpose of the club? What is the aim?’

  ‘There’s no aim,’ I said. ‘I mean, there is, kind of, but it’s not like a sports club or anything. We’re not winning a competition. It’s just to make sure we all have a totally awesome year. And so that we stay friends forever, especially when we go to high school next year.’

  ‘Forever is a long time,’ said Francesca. She turned back to the table and ran her hands over the piles of sheet music, checking for her glasses underneath. ‘Are you sure these are the people you want to stay friends with for so, so long?’

  My mouth fell open. ‘Of course!’ I said. ‘Jessie and Buzz are my best friends ever. We’ve done everything together since Year Two. We just, I don’t know ... we just get each other.’

  ‘Well, that is the best kind of friendship,’ said Francesca. She came back to Celeste and elegantly sat down on the piano stool. ‘You have been practising, yes? “Maybe”. A beautiful song.’

  I bounced on my toes. Last lesson we just did exercises for the full hour. This time I might get to sing the song. I opened my mouth and sang the first line, all on my own.

  ‘Oh. My darling.’ Francesca looked around and touched her stomach. ‘Listen in here. Your voice is climbing up to the note. But instead, you should already be there, ready for it. No climbing. Think about the sound coming out of the top of your head.’ She played the first few bars on Celeste. ‘This is the introduction and then it comes in like this.’ She began to sing and it sounded so amazing that I had no choice but to shut my eyes. Francesca’s voice was sad and happy and full of velvet and sparkles. My spine got tingly.

  ‘And there is something else, Abby. Something you may be too young for, I don’t know.’

  ‘What is it?’ I asked.

  ‘Hard to say this,’ said Francesca. She looked around and twisted her mouth. ‘You have a great family, yes?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Except sometimes Miles is super annoying.’

  Francesca laughed. ‘I, too, have a little brother. I know. But, you know? He loves you.’ I made a face but she shook her head at me. ‘No. It’s true. And your parents love you. You have two best friends. You are full of love in here.’ She clasped her hands to her heart. ‘But this song is different. If you sing it with all that love coming out, you do it wrong.’

  I shuffled my feet and clenched my knuckles. ‘I thought I was singing it right.’

  Francesca gave me an understanding smile. ‘This song is about wishing. Hoping. Wanting something very much. The little girl, Annie, she is desperate. She is lonely. She has no one except her dog. Not one person.’

  She looked at me with big, open eyes. ‘When you sing this, you will have to feel like Annie. Lost and alone. You will have to imagine it.’

  ‘I can try,’ I said. I felt uncertain and shuffled my hands behind me. ‘I’ve felt lonely before. When we go on holidays with the Wilsons, there’s only Boring Beth to talk to for like two whole weeks. Her or Miles. That’s lonely.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Francesca uncertain and she tipped her head to the side. ‘It is good to start with. We will see.’

  I hummed ‘Maybe’ all the way home and I was still singing it when Buzz and Jessie arrived for dinner and the second of our official club sleepovers.

  ‘We should definitely watch Annie again tonight,’ I said, running out to meet Buzz’s car. ‘I’m learning the “Maybe” song. And I’ve an even better idea. We should get Mr Smee to let us do it together for an item. You know, at the Regional Choral Festival.’

  ‘Annie again?’ said Buzz, getting out with her pink pillow and a brand-new sleeping bag. She didn’t look enthusiastic. ‘We saw it last time we were here. Anyway, I’ve brought something else. It’s new.’ Out of her bag she pulled a brand-new DVD and shoved it in my face. �
��This is super cool and we don’t have time for two movies. Didn’t you say we should do our scrapbook tonight?’

  ‘I’ve got scissors and glue sticks from my mum’s craft cupboard,’ said Jessie. ‘I thought that’s what we were doing. I even went through all her scrapbooking paper. She let me take all the ones that she doesn’t want to use anymore. Here, see?’ She opened a big brown paper bag stuffed with paper, stickers and craft stuff.

  ‘Oh, you’re right,’ I said. I grinned and slapped my forehead. Silly me. ‘I totally forgot about the scrapbook. Come on, I’ll clear some space so we can start.’

  Even though my room was tidier than the rest of the house, it still took at least five minutes for me to move things to have some floor space. While I piled shoes on books and jumpers on toys, Buzz sat on my bed, watching.

  ‘My mum would never let my room get like this,’ she said. ‘She comes in every day and cleans it up for me. She vacuums like nine times a week and if I drop anything on the carpet, she’s got spot remover out so fast it’s unbelievable.’

  ‘My mum doesn’t have time to clean up my room,’ I said. ‘She works all day and then she just wants to relax at night. Or do the vegie garden.’ I moved an empty shoebox to the top of a pile of papers on my desk and stuffed a pair of shorts into a drawer. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I like my stuff. If it was all in cupboards, I wouldn’t be able to see it.’

  ‘You’ve got great stuff,’ Jessie said, looking around at the bursting bookshelves and towers of board games. ‘Look, you’ve even got an easel and oil paints over here. That’s awesome.’

  ‘Dad got me those,’ I said. ‘He wants to see if I take after him. I tried a bit in the holidays but to be honest, I’d rather sing.’

  I kicked a dog blanket out of the way and pushed some shoes under the bed. ‘Here we go. Floor! Do you guys want something to lean on to draw?’

  ‘What are we actually doing?’ said Jessie. ‘Drawing a picture of ourselves and then what?’

  ‘Then write or draw the things you like doing and maybe a bit about our families, and we’ll each take a turn to write the stuff we like about each other,’ I said. ‘Come on, Buzz.’

  Buzz groaned as she rolled off the bed and landed on the floor with a bump. ‘I am so not good at drawing. We should have taken selfies with my iPod and printed them out instead.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, that would be awesome,’ said Jessie, her eyes lighting up.

  I felt shocked. ‘Our own art is way better,’ I said. ‘It’s more creative. Plus, I think my mum’s printer is broken. And I don’t know how you would connect the iPod anyway.’

  Buzz shrugged. ‘It was just an idea. Don’t get huffy.’

  I looked at her, confused. ‘I’m not.’ But I couldn’t continue because Jessie broke into the conversation.

  ‘Oh, I forgot. You guys! I have something to tell you. It’s really important and heaps exciting, and you’re never going to guess what it is.’

  Buzz’s face lit up, but for some reason my heart jumped. ‘What is it?’ we said, almost at the same time.

  ‘Well, my mum heard it yesterday and ...’ Jessie started, but there was no time to continue because Miles was yelling at the door that dinner was ready and we should come ‘RIGHT NOW!’ or Mum was going to ‘KILL US ALL’. We bolted out the door, washed our hands and headed to the kitchen. Jessie’s exciting news was forgotten as there was nothing but laughing and chatting and eating. And then there was dessert—ice cream with the chocolate syrup that goes hard and crackly when it’s poured on. After, we chased Ziggy around the yard for a bit, as well as more drawing and writing and cutting and sticking. Buzz’s DVD turned out to be pretty good, so I didn’t mind too much that it wasn’t Annie. After Mum had tried to get us to sleep at least three times, we still laid there giggling, all squashed into my big bed. Well, until Dad stood at the door making annoyed noises until we were finally quiet.

  I was feeling all relaxed and floaty, in that just-before-going-to-sleep phase. I could hear Buzz’s breathing getting slower when suddenly Jessie whispered into the dark.

  ‘Oh!’ she said. ‘I know the thing I was meant to tell you before. I can’t believe I forgot! It’s so important.’

  My sleepy state flew away and my body jerked back into consciousness. ‘What is it?’ I asked. ‘You have to tell us!’

  ‘Well, my mum saw Mr Smee at the grocery shop yesterday ...’ began Jessie, in her small voice. It sounded even smaller late at night.

  ‘What was he buying?’ giggled Buzz. She still sounded sleepy. ‘Does he eat Coco Pops for breakfast? Does he use a fairy toothbrush to clean his teeth?’

  ‘Stop it!’ I said, and I motioned her to be quiet, even though it was dark and she couldn’t see. ‘Jessie’s trying to talk.’

  ‘Yeah, so my mum saw him,’ went on Jessie, ‘and they talked for a while and I guess they probably talked about me at the beginning. I mean, I asked her if they did, but she wouldn’t tell me, but I figure she must have and ...’

  ‘Come on, Jess, get to the point.’ I felt impatient. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ said Jessie. She yawned, which made me clench my fingers together under the blanket. ‘Um, well, I guess the important bit is that he said our class was getting a new girl this week.’ She rushed the last bit and sat up in bed almost breathless.

  ‘What?’ screeched Buzz, but it wasn’t a real screech, more a noisy whisper. She sat up as well. ‘A new girl? In Year Six or Year Five? Oh, say it’s Year Six. It has to be Year Six.’

  ‘You’re kidding, right?’ I said, cautiously, almost frozen to the mattress. ‘A new girl? But no one else has said anything about anyone coming. I haven’t heard anything.’

  ‘Yes, but if Mr Smee said so, it means it’s true, Ab.’ Buzz sounded frustrated. Her voice was getting a little bit louder. ‘He knows.’

  ‘Shhh. Stay quiet, Buzz,’ I warned. ‘Dad will come in. But Mr Smee’s not the principal of the school. It’s Mr Bond who knows that kind of stuff and he didn’t tell us.’ For some reason my voice sounded anxious, getting higher and faster.

  ‘Yes, but the teachers know,’ said Buzz. ‘And anyway, they don’t have to tell us stuff like that. Remember when Zac arrived in Year Four? No one knew he was coming.’

  ‘I just think it’s so exciting,’ said Jessie. With my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could see her hold both hands up to her heart. ‘Imagine. There hasn’t been a new girl in our class since, well, since you came, Abby. Just the three of us, ever since then.’

  ‘I think it’s awesome,’ said Buzz. Her eyes were practically glowing in the dark. ‘I mean, I know our school is small, but the fact that we only have three girls in Year Six is, like, ridiculous. Another one will be awesome. I’ll never get to sleep now. I wonder what she looks like. I wonder what she is like. Because we’ll all be friends with her, of course. Do you think she’ll be pretty? I hope she’s nice.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t she be?’ said Jessie, shocked. ‘Of course she will. What do you think, Abby?’

  But I stayed silent and still. I felt something, but I had no idea what it was. It was harder than fear, squashier than pain, more fragile than doubt. Inside my stomach were caterpillars, crawling around with dirty feet and leaving little webby trails behind. And on top of that, everything around me was going dizzy.

  ‘Abby?’ said Jessie from beside me. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Buzz’s voice shot hard into the darkness. ‘What do you think, Ab?’

  My lips opened. For a second I couldn’t speak and then in a rush of air, words flew out of my mouth and landed on the bed before I could stop them and before I even knew what they were.

  I said, ‘I don’t know.’

  Chapter 8

  I didn’t know why I couldn’t just say, ‘Yeah, she’ll be really nice’, like the others. Even when I tried the next morning, when Bu
zz and Jessie still weren’t done talking about the new girl and how great it would be to have her, I couldn’t force the words out. For some reason the idea of a new girl coming to school made me feel funny. It wasn’t a funny feeling that I’d felt before, either. It was like a low growl in my stomach or a high-pitched whine in my ear. Just big enough to be annoying, but small enough to not know why the new girl was causing it. And it didn’t go away all weekend.

  It got even worse on Monday morning when Miles jumped on my bed to wake me up. Instead of attacking him, I just laid there.

  ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Race you for the Rice Bubbles.’

  ‘No,’ I said. I looked at the wall. ‘For some reason I just don’t want to get up.’

  ‘Are you sick, Abby?’ said Dad, when I finally dragged myself out to the breakfast table, pushed aside yesterday’s newspaper and filled up my bowl with Rice Bubbles. ‘You don’t seem yourself.’

  Mum put her hand on my forehead, and then the back of my neck. ‘She feels okay. No temperature. Are you alright in the tummy?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, spooning Rice Bubbles into my mouth. They tasted like cardboard. ‘I’m just a bit tired.’ I faked a yawn. ‘I’ll be okay.’

  I wasn’t okay. For some reason, I almost felt afraid. I scolded myself. This was ridiculous. A new girl coming to our class wasn’t anything to be scared about, was it?

  But all through assembly I was on alert. My fists were bunched up and my eyes narrowed, and I couldn’t stop the thoughts streaming through my head. Will the new girl be here? When is she coming? Why am I so nervous about this? Why do I feel like my life is about to be turned upside down? Every time the door to the office building opened, I swivelled my head around like I was spring-loaded, expecting to see Mrs Barton, the school secretary, walking out with her. But nothing happened.

  Nothing happened when everyone trooped off to their classrooms, either.

  ‘Bags on hooks and then come in and sit down, everyone,’ said Mr Smee. ‘Ollie! Sam! That means you two. Come on.’ He took his seat at the front of the room. ‘Right, let’s go through the class duties for this week. Sam, you’re doing the bell duty. Abby, you’re on flags and Bianca ... sorry, Buzz.’ He caught a glimpse of Buzz’s face at the mention of her real name. ‘Buzz, you’re on messages. Okay, all clear? Let’s start the day with your favourite subject, shall we? Spelling.’