We went into the bathroom in front of the mirrors. Francesca pointed to my eyes, cheeks and lips, giving Elizabeth instructions. Then she left the room with, ‘I will see you on the stage, my darling.’
I looked at Elizabeth. ‘Do I have to?’ I made a face at her. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’ She pulled out a brush and a container of something skin-coloured, starting to dab in it. ‘Stay still. And don’t worry.’
There were at least six tubes and containers of creams and powders. Elizabeth seemed to take forever to get it right. When she’d put the last brush away in her bag, she turned me towards the mirror. I shut my eyes.
‘Do you want to look?’ she said, but I shook my head.
‘Too scary. Too weird. This isn’t me.’
She put both hands on my shoulders and led me a few steps backwards. ‘From this distance, you’ll see what the audience sees. Go on. Just try it.’
I opened one eye, and then the other, and then both together. In the mirror was just me.
Me, in a dress, with a slightly brighter face.
‘Oh,’ I said, surprised. ‘I just look like myself.’
‘That’s what you’re supposed to look like,’ Elizabeth said. She made a face at me. ‘I’m not making you into someone you’re not.’
I twisted my mouth around and checked out a few different angles. ‘It’s good. Thank you.’ And I meant it.
She looked at her watch. ‘We’ve only got five minutes. And you’re first on. Come on, let’s get you to the stage.’
And then I was standing in the wings and waiting, listening to the audience applaud. The curtain opened and I walked onto the stage, feeling the slight give of the boards under my new shoes, squinting in the sharp light and waiting for that one, tiny, exquisite moment when the music started—and my Earth stopped. And, just like every other time, I knew that this—this singing, this performance—was everything I ever wanted to do.
Francesca looked at me and nodded. I ever so slightly indicated, Yes, I’m ready, and it began—the music and the magic and my own flight of voice.
‘Tomorrow’. And I knew that the words were true. That I loved my tomorrows. I loved what was coming. I loved what the future was going to hold. And I knew that there would always be hope, even in the worst of times, because change was always only a moment away. I could be me. And I could have friends who were different from me. And it would be okay.
They clapped. They always clapped. They called and whistled and cried out to me, but I wasn’t here for them. I was here for myself, my teachers, my friends, and my enemies, and for everything I had learned. For the first time in a while, I felt like myself again. And I knew that soon, I would apologise to Buzz, and maybe, just maybe, some day, I would try again with Stella and see if there was a way I could be me, and she could be her, and we could just get on. Because there’s always a chance to do things over.
I closed my eyes for a moment and then opened them again. When I looked through the lights into the audience, I saw Mum, Dad and Miles, clapping and cheering. And there was Sam and his mum too, giving me the thumbs up. And then, next to them, was Jessie, with tears on her cheeks. I squealed, above the noise and gave her a quick wave. She waved back and jumped up and down.
And then it was time to leave the stage, to follow Francesca off into the wings. I hugged her, said ‘thank you’ over and over, and then hugged Elizabeth, who was waiting for me.
‘It was good,’ she said. ‘Great opening for the concert.’
‘Thanks,’ I said. I let out a breath. ‘I really appreciate you helping me tonight.’ But she’d already disappeared, bringing on the next performer. Francesca had also moved off into the green room for a drink, and it really was just me, on my own, in a corridor.
I looked back to the stage, and then I looked forward and headed towards the door. I opened it and stepped outside into the night. The car park was full now; all the audience would have driven in for the show. It was quiet, apart from the buzzing of a light and the passing of an occasional car. The air was warm again; summer was on its way, and I loved to be able to breathe without shivering on warm nights. I made my way down the two old stone steps and looked up into the sky. Beyond the lights the stars were out and the moon was rising.
As my head moved from one side to another, my eyes caught a flicker. I swung back to follow it and took in a short gasp of breath.
High above me, in the light of the spotlight, was a golden, buzzing glow. Burning in the dark were tiny angels, fire fairies, sprinkles of floating golden dust, spinning and buzzing in the arc of the light. It looked ethereal. A tiny, wondrous microcosm of magical perfection.
‘It’s just insects.’ The words came out of my mouth before I even knew I was thinking them. My shoulders slumped in disappointment. ‘I’ve seen them before.’
And then I knew something else, and I stood straighter and taller.
Things aren’t always what they seem. Hope can turn to disappointment, but it’s okay. And even insects can be beautiful. They can still be a gift. They can still be a sign, shining like silver writing on a black piece of paper.
It was no coincidence that I picked ‘Tomorrow’ as my song—again. Yes, the best year of my life turned out to also be the worst. Yes, I’d won and I’d also lost. But I’d learned that losing was going to teach me to win in even better ways—ways I could never have expected.
A cool breeze hit my shoulders and I started a tiny, involuntary shiver. I turned, made my way up the steps and through the door into the warm. I stood by the stage, and by Elizabeth, and listened to the rest of the concert.
Glossary
4WD / four wheel driveSUV, or sports utility vehicle
amboambulance staff, or paramedic. We Aussies like to abbreviate.
autumnthe season of Fall
back of the queueback of the line
binreceptacle for trash or rubbish
bushwalka walk through a forest or wilderness area
canteenthe place where food is sold at school
chook shedschicken or poultry sheds
chuckthrow
cockatooa noisy Australian bird, with white feathers and yellow crest
crankygrumpy or annoyed
daggyout of fashion or uncool
dodgy internetinternet reception that isn’t reliable
don’t get huffydon’t get upset
doonaduvet, comforter or bed cover
eskya cold box or ice chest
evening southerlya cooling breeze from the south, often in the late afternoon
far out!a general exclamation. ‘Oh man,’ or ‘Good grief’ are equivalent.
flannelette jammie pantsflannel pyjama pants
go down the bushgo into the wilderness or forest area
ice blocksfrozen sweet iced treats based on water rather than milk
I’m goodI’m okay
it would be a cinchit would be easy
Judgea game commonly played by the kids of Kangaroo Valley
jumpersweater or sweatshirt
kindy kidschildren who are in kindergarten, or the first year of school
kookaburrafamous Australian birds with a call that sounds like a laugh
LegoAussies play with ‘Lego’ rather than ‘legos’
lolly shopsweet shop or candy store
mathsAussies do ‘maths’ rather than ‘math’
Ovala grassed area used as a sports field or football field
PJspyjamas
playing in repsplaying sport at a higher or representative level
primary schoolelementary school
pubhotel or bar, where alcohol is served to adults
ring-tailed possuma nocturnal Australian animal similar to a flying squirrel
sausage sizzlea cooked sausage wra
pped in a piece of white bread with sauce and fried onions, commonly eaten at fairs or events
school hatall Aussie kids wear a broad brimmed school hat to protect them from the sun
simmer downsettle down; don’t get so upset
sookywhiny
spew / chuck / pukethese are all great words for vomit
sultanasyellow raisins
super-stokedvery, very excited
swimming costumethe item of clothing you wear to swim in
the pavilionsee the ‘Show’ below
the Showsimilar to a small town fair or agricultural exhibition. The pavilion is where the different exhibits are judged.
toilet / loo‘going to the toilet’ or the ‘loo’ is the same as going to the bathroom. When Aussies talk about the ‘toilets’ we don’t always mean the porcelain throne itself. Sometimes we mean the bathroom as a whole.
turfed me out of bedgot me out of bed quickly and harshly
undiesunderwear or knickers
utea vehicle with a cab and a tray, like a pick up truck
verandaporch
wombata nocturnal furry Australian animal about the size of a big dog. Wombats eat grass and dig big holes.
Yeah, like nah.This is a version of ‘yeah, nah’ which means ‘I know what you mean, but I don’t agree.’
You on the outs?Are you feeling left out?
About the Author
Cecily Anne Paterson grew up in Pakistan where she went to boarding school in the Himalayan mountains and spent her holidays in the desert. She lives in a gorgeous tiny town in New South Wales with her red-headed husband, four kids and cuddly dog. She loves to read, sew and drink a lot of tea. Cecily’s books have been shortlisted and won places in both the CALEB and SparkLit writing awards, and her first teen novel, Invisible, was a semi-finalist in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award in 2014.
Stay in touch!
Cecily loves to hear from readers! Send her an email at www.cecilypaterson.com/contact.
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Other Books by Cecily Anne Paterson
The Coco and Charlie Franks series
Take a pair of zany twins, add a horse or two and some embarrassing moments, and you’ve got Coco and Charlie’s life on the farm. If you’re a brave-hearted girl who loves family, friends, horses, adventure and the challenge of finding out who you are and what you’re good at, these are the books for you.
Love and Muddy Puddles
Charlie Franks is A-OK
The Invisible series features easy-to-love, hard-of-hearing teen Jazmine Crawford and tackles teen relationships, mean girls, family secrets, fitting in, identity, and characters finding themselves. If you love an honest, moving novel with all the feels, and a strong female character who stands up for herself, you’ll definitely want to follow Jaz as she finds her courage and faces her biggest fears.
‘Invisible is ... an exquisitely written story... a stunning account of the reinvention of a compelling and sympathetic character.’ - Publisher’s Weekly
‘Lovely... sensitive, hopeful, empowering.’ - Cathy Cassidy
Invisible
Invincible
Being Jazmine
Coming soon from
Cecily Anne Paterson
How Not to be Popular
Maddie tries to be nice to everyone. Even weird, chicken-obsessed Tahlia.
BUT she’d way prefer to hang out with the cool K-girls at school. The only problem is that they don’t seem interested in her, at least not until Year 6 camp. That’s when Maddie has a decision to make: how far will she go to be popular?
Will she be able to live with the guilt when she finally has everything she’s been hoping for?
Follow Maddie’s hilarious antics with chickens, secrets and undies in the latest adventure at Kangaroo Valley Public School.
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