Smart Girls Don't Wear Mascara

by Cecily Paterson

  ‘We’ll get some tennis rackets and go and play hits on the court, okay?’ I’d suggest at lunch, but Stella said it made her too sweaty. Instead, we’d sit under the trees in the shade.

  ‘Let’s play handball,’ I’d say at recess, but Stella said she’d given up handball in Year Four.

  ‘It’s a kids’ game,’ she said, with a wrinkled nose. Instead, we hung out in the library, looking at books about cats. ‘I love them soooo much,’ she told us, making a sad face and batting her eyelashes. ‘I had to leave my cat, Eleanor, at my mum’s place. I almost miss her more than my friends, and you know we’re super close, so I’m like heartbroken twice over.’

  ‘Oh, that’s so sad,’ said Jessie. I could practically see the tears welling up. ‘What colour is Eleanor?’

  Stella shook her hair back a little. ‘She’s grey. And white. Kind of in a really elegant pattern.’

  ‘Oooh, I love grey-and-white cats,’ cooed Buzz.

  ‘Yeah, me too. So pretty,’ added Jessie.

  ‘Is she friendly?’ I asked, trying to claw my way back in the conversation.

  Stella looked at me, but only for the briefest second, before her eyes settled on the library door at the other side of the room. ‘You don’t want a cat to be friendly,’ she said, and I could hear an edge in her voice. ‘Cats aren’t like dogs, you know, jumping all over you and wanting you to play with them every second of the day.’ She looked back at Buzz and Jessie, with a tiny glance at me on the way. ‘Cats are elegant.’ And she pushed back her shoulders, made her neck long and sat up straight.

  Again, for some weird reason, I felt small and hopeless. Stella had this uncanny ability to cut me in half just using words. And not even using insults. It was what she didn’t say, and the looks she gave that made me feel like a four-year-old again. I’d never met anyone like it before.

  Suddenly, out of nowhere, came this overwhelming urge to click my fingers. Three times exactly. Sending a message.

  Snap, snap, snap.

  There was a sudden, stunned silence in which exactly nothing happened. So I did it again.

  Snap, snap, snap. Smart Girls, let’s get out of here.

  This time, Jessie giggled nervously, Buzz looked away from me, suddenly interested in a book about giraffes on the shelf. I could see a red blush rising out of her school shirt, right up the back of her neck. Stella looked me straight in the face.

  ‘You do good finger snapping, Abby,’ she said. Her face was completely straight. No trace of a smile. ‘You look like you’ve been practising. A lot.’

  Jessie looked at the ground, but Buzz let out a snort and turned back around. She wasn’t looking at me. She was talking to Stella. ‘That’s so funny,’ she said. ‘You’re hilarious, Stella.’

  Now the blush was mine. If I’d been feeling small before, now I felt even tinier. I could feel the warm spread of redness clench around my throat. I looked down at the grey carpet and noticed my fingers shaking. I stood up quickly, brushing down my shorts. ‘I’m going to the bathroom,’ I said, but my voice sounded a little high. I cleared my throat and adjusted it down. ‘Who’s coming?’

  Again, there was silence. My stomach dropped. ‘You guys?’ I said, moving my eyes from Jessie to Buzz, but they were suddenly finding the carpet incredibly interesting. Only Stella kept my gaze.

  ‘I’m good, thanks,’ she said. Smooth, pleasant, innocent. ‘I went before.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said. But it sounded more like ‘kay’ in a tiny, squeaky whine. And then, some more words popped out from somewhere. ‘I’ll be back soon.’ I turned on my heel and walked, as purposefully as I could, all the way to the girls’ bathrooms, where I locked myself in a pale pink stall, sat on the closed toilet seat and slumped back against the wall.

  Buzz and Jessie hadn’t come with me. They hadn’t even stood up for me. It was as if I’d been—I could hardly say the word—dumped. What had happened? How had things gotten to this point in just a few short weeks? I was used to being the one with the ideas, the one who organised everyone. And now Stella had taken my place and I was sent to the back of the queue.

  The beginning of a tear tried to squeeze its way out of the corner of my eye, but I wiped it furiously away. There was no way I could show them that I cared this much.

  For the rest of the afternoon, I pretended everything was fine. It was easy enough in class. We were researching East Asia and I was buddied up with Sam, so it wasn’t as if he was ever going to notice that anything was wrong. Once he asked me, ‘You okay?’ I just made a face and said, ‘Yeah,’ in a voice like, Are you stupid?

  He took a step back. ‘’Scuse me for living.’

  I batted him on the head. ‘It’s okay. I do.’

  I faked it all the way out of school, showing my confidence as I walked out of the gate, but as my feet hit the pavement off the school grounds, heading for my singing lesson, I really started to feel upset again.

  Francesca must have thought I was acting strange too. ‘Are you tired?’ she asked. ‘You are not bouncing today. Even your pigtails are a little, how do you say, drooped.’

  I shrugged. ‘I’m okay. I guess.’

  ‘I guess, huh?’ said Francesca, turning towards the piano. She didn’t sound convinced. ‘Well, let us sing anyway. Warm-ups. Like last week. You remember?’

  I nodded. Definitely. She began to play but when I opened my mouth, my notes were cracked and my voice weak.

  Francesca swung her legs around the piano stool to face me again. ‘This is not good,’ she said. ‘Where is Abby’s strong voice? There is for sure something missing.’

  For a miniscule second I almost felt like crying again, except that I didn’t cry, so I just kind of stood there, not crying. ‘I guess I feel a bit, I don’t know ...’ I said, tugging at my hair. ‘I don’t even know what to say. I just don’t feel right.’

  ‘It is school?’ said Francesca.

  I rubbed my toe around, squeaking on the floorboard. ‘There’s a new girl, but ...’ I began. My words got stuck.

  ‘It is trouble with friends, then?’

  ‘Well, no,’ I said. ‘My friends are fine. It’s just, they seem distracted. There’s a new girl, Stella, and ...’ My voice trailed off. ‘For some reason, nothing’s like it used to be.’

  ‘They give you a hard time?’

  I shook my head. ‘I mean, no. No one is being actually mean. Not mean like yelling at me or anything.’ A thought came to me. ‘The real problem is that Stella doesn’t belong here—I mean, here in Kangaroo Valley. If she wasn’t here, there wouldn’t be a problem. I just wish that she would go back to Sydney and that everything would just go back to the way it was before. When it was more fun.’

  ‘Things change in life.’ Francesca folded her arms across her broad chest and shrugged. She gave a half-smile and a tiny nod. ‘And it feels hard sometimes.’

  ‘But friendships can’t change,’ I said. ‘Not best friendships. We’ve promised.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Francesca asked.

  ‘Exactly that,’ I said. ‘Me and Buzz and Jessie, we’ve all promised each other to be best friends forever. We made vows and everything. Swore to it. And you can’t break a promise.’

  Francesca turned around and shuffled through some music. ‘If everybody keeps their promise, the world is very different. Sometimes, though, promises break. And you are so young. People change. There is nothing you can do.’ She shrugged, almost hopelessly.

  ‘Well I’m going to do something about it,’ I said, with a sudden rush of energy and an almost-stamp of my foot. It hit the floor before I realised I was in someone else’s house. I wasn’t angry, just strong. Determined and resolved. ‘I’m not going to let my friends break their promises. I owe it to them to keep us together.’

  ‘And there’s the Abby bounce. It’s back.’ Francesca smiled. ‘Ready to sing now?’
>
  ‘Totally.’ I moved over so I was next to the piano. We did some warm-up exercises and then Francesca began to play the opening notes of ‘Maybe’ and I felt a tiny shiver go right up my spine, my neck and reach its tiny silvery tentacles into my scalp. I opened my mouth and the notes slid out, twisting and turning mysteriously, like purple velvet flowing and flipping and fluttering. Everything was smooth and even and shiny. The music was chocolate on my tongue, but not cheap chocolate that you gulp down without a second thought; serious, quality chocolate.

  Now, I was hearing my own music. It tasted divine.

  When the song ended, Francesca sat there, with her hands still on the keys of the piano. She didn’t speak for a frozen moment. I stood, balancing on my toes, hardly daring to take a breath in case I broke the silver magic that was surrounding us. If I moved, it would disappear.

  But then the oxygen ran out, my face was turning blue and my lungs decided it was better to get some air than to die from not breathing. I shook out my shoulders and Francesca looked up at me. She had a huge smile on her face.

  ‘You had a hard week, right?’ she said. ‘Bad for you. But amazing for that song.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I said.

  ‘When you first sang this, there was nothing. No emotion. No feeling.’ She shook her head. ‘You had no idea what this song is. But this, now, this is different.’ She pushed her eyes into mine. ‘This is exactly what this song is about. Pain. Sorrow. Lonely.’

  ‘Really?’ I said. I twisted my fingers behind my back, awkward. I felt uncomfortable and a bit like crying all over again. Hold it together, Abby.

  ‘Oh, yes.’ She winked at me. ‘And this is the great thing about being singer. If your life is bad, even terrible, it is good. You use it and become a better artist.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said and then I stopped. I was confused. Of course I wanted to be a better singer. But I never wanted to have another week like the one I’d just had at school. I shut my eyes and swayed on my feet for a second.

  ‘Oh,’ I said again, simply because I had nothing else to say.

  Chapter 11

  Things got a little better when I invited Buzz and Jessie for a sleepover on the weekend. I needed a bit of time with them on their own, without Stella. Just us Smart Girls again.

  ‘Yay!’ said Jessie as she arrived, weighed down by her pillow and with an enormous doona falling out of her arms. ‘We haven’t done this for ages. I guess we kind of forgot. Great idea, Ab!’

  ‘I know, right?’ I said. I had a warmness in my tummy and a comfortable feeling in my heart. ‘We’re going to have heaps of fun. I even went out and got a new movie for us to watch. I think Buzz will love it. Plus, I got out the Smart Girls book again. We can do some more stuff on that.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, that’s awesome,’ said Jessie. Her face lit up. ‘We haven’t done anything for the club for ages.’

  Buzz insisted that we both see the sunroof when she arrived in her new gold car.

  ‘You said you would weeks ago and you still haven’t,’ she said. ‘Look. It’s so cool.’ She pressed the buttons and the roof slid open. Almost like magic, I thought. I’d never actually seen one in real life before. We’d been driving the same car since I was three years old.

  The three of us stood up on the front seats of the car. Buzz’s mum was making noises about seat covers and shoes and, ‘Not so rough, Bianca’, but we ignored her and pushed ourselves through the gap. We waved at Ziggy and Miles who were playing in the garden.

  ‘That is pretty awesome,’ I said, as we squeezed down again and tumbled out of the car. ‘Can you drive with it open?’

  ‘Yep. Of course.’ Buzz shrugged her shoulders and gave an airy wave of her hand. ‘Mum let Stella and me keep it open on the way home last night.’

  ‘Last night?’ I raised my eyebrows. ‘What were you doing last night?’

  ‘We went out for dinner at the Bowling Club,’ Buzz said. ‘With Stella and her dad. It was really cool. I wore these new gold leggings I made Mum get for me last week. I had the best new headband. And like a real handbag and everything.’

  ‘Wow!’ said Jessie. ‘Gold leggings. Serious? You must have had so much fun.’

  ‘What did you have for dinner?’ I asked. My stomach was tight and I could hear the edge in my voice. Just act normal.

  ‘I had the calamari and Stella had fish and salad,’ Buzz said. ‘It’s amazing how healthy she eats. I felt so inspired I actually even left some of my chips on my plate.’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, after dinner we walked around the club and talked to these boys—two cousins—who were visiting the Valley. They were like in Year Seven or Eight I think.’ She smiled. It was the most stupid smile I’d ever seen in my life. ‘I think one of them even maybe liked me.’

  ‘Whaa-at?’ said Jessie. ‘How did you know?’

  Buzz tossed her hair a little bit. ‘It was the way he looked at me. I could just kind of tell.’

  This was getting back into Stella territory. I had to get us back on track. Back to being Smart Girls. ‘Whatever,’ I shrugged. ‘Boys aren’t important. Anyway, let’s do something, not just talk. Especially not about nothing. Mum said we could bake cupcakes if we want.’

  ‘Can we do blueberry icing?’ said Jessie. ‘That’s soooo yummy.’

  ‘Maybe we should make a salad instead,’ said Buzz.

  I raised an eyebrow at her. ‘For real? You are like the cupcake queen, Buzz.’ I made a face and made a decision. ‘Come on. We’re going to bake. No arguments.’

  In between the mixing, the stirring, the spooning, the licking, the icing and the eating of the cupcakes, I was super pleased that there was no more mention of Stella. Whenever I heard her name, it was like the temperature dropped about five degrees. And not in a good way, like when an evening southerly change came in on a sweltering summer day. It was a cold, hard, unforgiving, bone-chilling, middle-of-winter, its-snowing-somewhere-not-far-from-here type of temperature drop.

  But right then, while we baked and laughed, I felt good. My toes scrunched happily like when I walked on warm sand.

  ‘You guys are my best friends,’ I said, smiling. Buzz and Jessie were licking spoons, almost in unison. ‘We are great. We belong together.’

  ‘Awww,’ said Jessie. ‘That’s so sweet. You’re both mine too.’ And she looked from me to Buzz, who had cake mix on her nose.

  ‘Oops,’ I said. ‘Let me wipe it off for you!’ I wet the edge of a tea towel and went up close to Buzz’s face. ‘There you go,’ I said, but something black caught my eye.

  ‘You’re wearing mascara!’ My voice was shocked and accusing. ‘Buzz, you’ve actually got mascara on.’

  Jessie took in a tiny, sudden breath and Buzz’s face went from guilty to embarrassed to nonchalant. She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.

  ‘So?’

  I honestly didn’t know what to say. Jessie was leaning in, begging, ‘Let me see, let me see,’ and making so much noise that I could hardly think. I made a face and opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

  ‘It’s not like there’s a law against mascara,’ said Buzz. ‘Wow, Abby. You’re like crazy paranoid about this. I like it. Stella says it brings out my eyes.’

  I made a noise of frustration, kind of between a cow moo and a pig snort. I knew what I wanted to say. I just didn’t quite know how to say it.

  ‘It’s just not ...’ I began. ‘It’s just not ... you. Us!’ I held out my hands with my palms facing up. ‘We’re in Year Six. We’re only eleven. Well, I’m twelve. But anyway. Don’t you get it? We’re ... we’re just us. Best friends. Why pretend to be something that we’re not?’

  Buzz rolled her eyes. ‘Wearing mascara doesn’t make any difference to those things. We’re still “us”, or whatever. We’re still friends. It’s just I’m wearing makeup at the same time. That’s all it is.’ She turned away. ‘I don’t kno
w why you’re making such a big deal out of it.’

  I stared at her back. It all made perfect sense to me. What was so wrong with Buzz that she couldn’t see it?

  A thought flashed through my head.

  The second any one of us starts to change, the group will be different.

  I instantly knew that it was true. Deeply true. The trouble was, it flashed through so fast that once it was gone, I lost my grip on it. My words disappeared. Instead of an explanation, all I had now was a new flicker of fear at the bottom of my tummy. My hands clenched. My shoulders felt tight and high. I nibbled at my thumbnail.

  ‘I’m not. I’m just saying ...’ I shrugged my shoulders.

  ‘Don’t fight, you guys,’ begged Jessie. ‘Come on, let’s go and do something else. We could get our club book out and make some more pages. And Buzz, didn’t you bring a printout of that photo you took of us all on the first day? Abby, we’ll show you. It’s great.’ She grabbed Buzz’s hand and turned her around to face me. ‘Friends?’

  I made a face. ‘Of course, friends,’ I said. ‘Best friends.’

  Buzz looked like her face was pasted on. Her smile wasn’t fake, but it wasn’t exactly real, either. ‘I wasn’t mad,’ she shrugged.

  The room seemed to warm up as we cut and pasted and drew in our book. After about five minutes, Buzz seemed to be back to her usual self and the three of us were making guinea pig noises and squeaking our words to each other. Later, as we played darts from my bed—aiming the red-and-blue feathered darts onto the board hanging on the back of my door—Buzz squealed so loudly every time one hit the target that Jessie and I laughed so much we began to snort.

  In fact, the rest of the night and the next morning stayed warm and comfortable in my tummy. We all got up at midnight and snuck out to the kitchen, trying not to fall over the piles of Mum’s stacked books. When we finally found the container of cupcakes (Miles had moved it), we crept back with two each, trying not to wake up a snoring Ziggy.

  It wasn’t until well past breakfast—the last pancake eaten long ago—and we were getting dressed that I felt funny again.