The Art of Friendship

by Lisa Ireland

  Thank God it was last period. After school she and Kit were going to the pool for a swim and catching the public bus home. Of course she’d had to lie to Mum and tell her it was a school excursion – Kit had mocked up a stack of permission notes in the computer lab one lunchtime so that Libby didn’t have to argue with her mother every time they wanted to do something unsupervised after school. She’d thought her mother would be a bit more relaxed now she was in high school, but it was the beginning of year nine and so far nothing had changed in that department. But thanks to Kit’s ingenuity she was leading an almost normal teenage life. God only knew what the other kids would think if they knew how strict her parents were. No doubt she’d be picked on for being a baby.

  High school was turning out to be a social minefield. It had been easy to fit in at primary school. She and Kit had developed a firm friendship the summer before she started at Woodvale Primary so her first day there hadn’t been as scary as she’d thought it might be. She’d fitted into Kit’s friendship group easily. Suzy, Kelly, Melanie and Tanya liked lots of the same things she did, although none of them loved books quite as much as her and Kit. But they were good to play elastics and skipping with. Kelly loved music and sometimes brought her portable tape deck to school so they could listen to their favourite songs. They made up dance routines to go with them. Not Kit, though. She said the routines were stupid, and if they danced for too long she’d go off in a huff to the library. The other girls just shrugged when that happened but Libby felt bad for Kit. She knew that in her heart Kit loved music too, but she felt awkward dancing when the other girls were all so good. Kit was short and stocky and a tiny bit clumsy, whereas Libby had natural rhythm. She found most of the dance routines pretty easy, although sometimes she felt a bit self-conscious because of her height. Especially after Paul Goodman – known to all as Goody – started calling her Libby Longstocking. It had stuck, despite Kit coining Paul Pigface as a response. Kit was loyal like that, so when she huffed off to the library, Libby would make an excuse to the others and follow her. Once Kit had Libby by her side she would forget her bad mood and be her normal sunny self again.

  Despite the teasing from Goody, which hadn’t been that awful really, primary school had been easy to negotiate. High school, it seemed, was a different matter. Their primary school sat on the border of the catchment areas for two different high schools. She and Kit were zoned to Wyndham College, whereas Kelly and their other friends were all in the zone for the new secondary school at Woodvale Heights. Not only that but when they arrived at Wyndham they were shocked to find they were not in the same class. Kit was in 7A while Libby was in 7D, which meant they were never together, not even for excursions or special events. Even their lockers were in different buildings. Of course they had recess and lunchtime together, but by the time each of them went to their lockers and then made their way to their meeting place at the front of the school there often wasn’t much time left. Which was why after school was so important.

  Being neighbours should have meant that they had plenty of time together when they were at home, but Libby’s mother had never warmed to Kit. She made it uncomfortable for the two of them, so the majority of their afternoons were spent at Kit’s. Which was fine. Kit’s mum, Jude, was awesome. She always made Libby feel welcome and Libby could talk to her about things she would never dream of discussing with her own mother. Periods, for instance. And boys.

  Kit always rolled her eyes when her mother brought up the subject of the opposite sex. ‘Mind your own business, Mum. We’re not into all that kissing rubbish and even if we were it’s not like we’d want to talk to you about it.’

  Jude would just laugh at Kit’s reprimands. ‘I suppose you’re right, but I want you girls to know you can talk to me if you have any questions, or if you are worried about anything. It’s okay not to want to kiss someone, and you should never let anyone pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to do. On the other hand it’s perfectly natural to want to kiss boys, or even other girls, at your age, and sometime soon you might feel like doing more than that. If that’s the case with either of you, and you have questions, know you can come to me. Sex is a beautiful thing so long as both partners are happy – and that you are practising safe sex, of course.’

  ‘Mum, for God’s sake! I just told you we’re not doing any of that stuff. Why can’t you be like normal mums and ask us about the maths test?’

  Despite Libby assuring her that she didn’t mind Jude’s little talks, Kit was increasingly embarrassed by her mother’s attempts to initiate deep and meaningful conversations. ‘Honestly,’ Kit said, after a particularly long discussion about body changes, ‘I just wish she’d leave us be. It’s like she wants to be one of us.’ Obviously Kit hadn’t noticed Libby’s rapt attention. Libby often wished she could have intimate discussions like these with her own mother but the closest she’d come to that was her mother handing her a packet of pads and asking her if she knew what to do with them ‘when the time came’. Libby had nodded and that was the end of the discussion.

  Now, at the beginning of their third year in high school, Libby was finally starting to feel like she might fit in. Last year she’d made quite a few new friends and Kit had too, so between them they had a decent circle of friends. More and more they found themselves finding excuses to stay in town after school. Although she’d never admit it, in many ways Libby found this preferable to being on her own with Kit. Not that she didn’t love Kit to bits. She did. But sometimes it was more fun to do things in a big group. Life was finally shaping up to be everything Libby had hoped being a teenager would be. And if she played her cards right she might end up being one of the popular girls, just like one of the heroines in her much loved Sweet Valley High books. (Not that she’d admit to reading babyish books like those to anyone but Kit. The girls in her year had now moved on to Jilly Cooper.)

  She wasn’t unpopular, thank goodness. She had plenty of friends. But the really cool girls like Becca and Vicki were still a cut above her somehow. She spent a lot of time studying their make-up and hairstyles and the way they wore their uniforms with a casual elegance and little regard for the rules. She tried to copy their look as best she could, applying her make-up at the bus stop each morning and carefully wiping it off before she arrived home each night. She got up early each day so she could blow-dry her fringe to achieve the perfect ‘feathered look’ she’d seen on the models in Dolly magazine, and on Friday nights she tied her long hair up in a ponytail and soaked it in lemon juice in the hope of lightening her mousy-brown colour to something that resembled blond. Rochelle had told her peroxide would do the job but she hadn’t got up the courage to try that yet.

  Finally the bell sounded, and Libby started packing up her books. A sharp sting hit her in the middle of her back as the elastic of her bra snapped against her skin. ‘Ow!’ She spun around to see Goody grinning at her.

  ‘Hey, Longstocking. Liam said you were going to the pool after school today.’

  Libby shrugged. ‘So?’

  ‘Me and Brooksey are goin’ too. Might see you there.’

  Libby realised his cheeks had gone kind of pink. ‘Yeah. Maybe.’

  ‘All right then.’ Goody pushed past her and made his way out into the corridor.

  Libby raced to Kit’s locker and dragged her by the arm to the front of the school before any of their other friends could catch them leaving. ‘Hey,’ said Kit. ‘What’s the hurry? I told Rochelle and Liam they could walk with us to the pool.’

  ‘We’ll wait at the end of the reserve. They can catch us there. I want to tell you something privately.’ She quickly relayed the incident with Goody. ‘So,’ she asked, pausing for dramatic effect, ‘what do you think?’

  Kit shrugged. ‘What do you mean? I think Goody’s an idiot.’

  Libby frowned. Kit didn’t seem to be getting it. ‘That’s not what I mean. Do you think he . . .?’

  ‘Wha
t?’

  ‘Do you think he likes me?’

  ‘Because he flicked your bra?’

  ‘No. Because he asked if I was going to the pool. And because he went kind of red when he asked.’

  Kit stopped walking, turned and looked Libby in the eye. ‘Why do you even care? Goody is a dickhead.’

  Libby felt heat rising up her neck. ‘Yeah, I know. But he is kind of cute, don’t you think?’

  ‘You can’t be serious! This is the boy that made your life hell at primary school.’

  ‘He teased me a bit. He didn’t make my life hell. You don’t have to make such a big deal out of everything, Kit. Lighten up, why don’t you?’

  ‘I honestly don’t understand you sometimes. Why don’t you go ahead? I’m going to wait here for Rochelle and Liam.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid. I’ll wait with you.’

  They stood then in awkward silence.

  Maybe Kit had a point. Goody wasn’t the smartest boy in the class and he often resorted to cheap jokes at other people’s expense. But then again maybe he just did that because he was embarrassed at never knowing any answers. Maybe he was just trying to take the attention away from how little he knew. Libby knew one thing for sure. He was definitely good-looking. He’d grown a lot last summer and was now taller than her. He had shaggy blond hair that often fell across his face, and deep brown eyes that made Libby’s stomach flip when he held her gaze. But even better than all of that, Goody was one of the popular boys. Last year he and Stacey had been an item, but they’d broken up now. If Goody became Libby’s boyfriend that would surely seal her position as one of the popular kids, and for that she was prepared to overlook some immature behaviour.

  She should have known better than to bring this up with Kit. They might be best friends but on stuff like this they were poles apart. Kit simply did her own thing and didn’t worry about whether it was cool or what other people thought about her. She wasn’t popular but she wasn’t unpopular either. She had made a small group of friends who interested her and as far as she was concerned that was enough.

  But it wasn’t enough for Libby. She wanted to be like the heroines in the books she read and the TV shows she watched. It was okay for Kit, she didn’t care about what other people thought. Sometimes Libby wished she could be like that too, but she wasn’t. She was desperate to be popular. She’d never admit this to Kit, but she wanted to be special, to stand out for all the right reasons.

  Unfortunately Libby had no outstanding qualities. Well, definitely none that were of any use. Sure she was smart, but so were lots of other kids and besides, being ‘brainy’ wasn’t exactly the sort of thing she wanted to be known for. It wasn’t as if anyone thought smart girls were cool. In fact all the things she naturally excelled at were totally uncool. She was good at knitting and sewing and she was a good drawer too, but what use was that? She would never break any sporting records, she didn’t play a musical instrument or sing and she was way too shy to audition for the school production. The only hope she had was to pay close attention to what the cool kids did – what they wore, how they spoke, who they hung out with – and then copy that behaviour.

  After what seemed like an age, Rochelle, Liam and a girl called Vanessa, who was apparently in Kit’s English class, joined them. Liam told a funny story about his stepmother getting drunk. He did wicked impressions and had them all laughing as he imitated his stepmother trying to appear sober. By the time they reached the pool Kit’s bad mood seemed to have eased, although she still hadn’t said anything specifically to Libby.

  ‘Lib, have you got a dollar I can borrow? I haven’t got enough for the pool entry and my bus fare home,’ Kit said.

  From time to time Libby resented Kit’s habit of ‘borrowing’ money. It wasn’t the fact that she didn’t have the money – no one understood better than Libby how tight things were for Kit and Jude – it was more the way she assumed Libby would cough up the necessary cash whenever needed. Kit didn’t seem to appreciate that Libby’s family was really no better off than her own. Sure, Libby had more cash than she did, but that was thanks to the birthday and Christmas money sent by her grandparents. She had to make that money last, and with Kit constantly expecting to be propped up it didn’t go nearly as far as it should. But today Libby willingly handed over her extra dollar. Anything to heal the rift between them.

  Kit smiled at her. ‘Thanks, Lib.’

  All was forgiven.

  The three girls went into the dressing rooms and quickly changed into the swimsuits they’d tucked into their schoolbags earlier that morning. Libby had spent a decent chunk of her Christmas money to buy herself a pink and black spotted bikini from Sportsgirl. Her mother would have a stroke if she knew. Libby and Kit had taken a train and a bus to Highpoint last weekend to buy her new swimsuit when they were supposed to be at the library doing a joint project. Kit hadn’t bought anything but Libby had found a cool pendant for them to share. It was a silver heart in two pieces. One half had the word ‘Friends’ inscribed on it and the other half had ‘Forever’. Kit had been stoked with Libby’s gift, and as she slid her half of the heart onto the silver chain around her neck she swore she’d never take it off. So far she’d been true to her word.

  Once they’d changed they found a flat section of grass and laid out their towels and it didn’t take long for Liam to join them. They’d been settled in their spot for about five minutes when Libby saw Goody. He sauntered in through the gates and walked the length of the pool without so much as a glance in her direction. He’d ditched his uniform for a pair of board shorts and a t-shirt. He had a towel slung over his shoulders and was wearing a pair of Wayfarer sunglasses. Libby’s heart beat hard in her chest as she watched him. She didn’t care what Kit said, Goody was super cute, and if he liked her she would be stoked. But now she wasn’t sure if she’d misinterpreted his interest. He backtracked his way along the other side of the pool, stopping at the kiosk.

  ‘Libby!’ Kit poked her in the ribs.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ve been talking to you for five minutes and you’ve been too busy looking over at lover boy to notice.’

  ‘He’s not my “lover boy”.’

  Rochelle looked at her. ‘Ooooh, Libby’s got a boyfriend.’

  ‘Shut up. I have not.’

  ‘Look out, Lib, he’s coming our way.’

  Butterflies swirled in Libby’s stomach as Goody approached and she prayed that her inner anxiety wouldn’t show on her face. Please God, don’t let me blush. She busied herself by hunting for an imaginary lost item.

  ‘Hey,’ he said, stopping at the foot of her towel.

  She looked up as casually as she could manage. ‘Oh hi.’

  ‘Hi, Goody,’ Kit said in a saccharine voice.

  Goody’s gaze didn’t shift from Libby as he grunted a response to Kit’s greeting. He threw his towel on the ground next to Libby – who’d strategically placed herself at the edge of the group in anticipation of this very situation – sat down and opened the packet of chips he’d got from the kiosk. ‘Want some?’

  Libby smiled at him. ‘Thanks.’ It was a good sign. Goody never shared his food with anyone.

  *

  Kit was late meeting Libby after school. For the past few weeks they’d been riding their bikes to school instead of taking the bus. Libby was on some sort of stupid fitness kick. She was convinced that cycling was going to give her shapely calves like the models she admired so much in Dolly. Despite Kit telling her she looked fine just the way she was, Libby was obsessed with her hair, her make-up, her lack of boobs, and her skinny calves. The endless talk about eyeliner bored Kit witless, but the cycling she didn’t mind. It gave them twenty minutes of uninterrupted time together at the beginning and the end of each day, and when they were on their own like this Libby was back to her old self. Ever since that day at the pool three weeks ago, Libby had been a dif
ferent person. She spent much of her time hanging out at the seats outside the canteen with Goody and his friends. At first Kit had tagged along, but the conversation was mind-numbingly boring. The boys talked about sport, cars and girls’ bodies. Libby and the other girls in the group didn’t say much. Apparently their role was to laugh at the boys’ jokes. It was tedious beyond belief. When Kit dared to complain that the boys rating girls on the size of their breasts was not only sexist but stupid, she was laughed at and asked if she was ‘on her rags’. That’d been enough. She’d told Libby she wouldn’t be hanging out there anymore. She hadn’t really expected Libby to follow her when she left, but she was nevertheless disappointed when she didn’t.

  Today she’d got caught up having a discussion with Mr Pierce about her plans to backpack around Europe once she’d finished school. He’d lived in Italy for a while and had her mesmerised with his tales of working in a vineyard there. By the time she’d finished her conversation with the geography teacher, grabbed her books from her locker and made her way out to the bike shed it was a good ten minutes after the final bell of the day. Most of the bikes were gone, but Libby’s shiny blue cycle – one of the many Christmas gifts from her grandparents – was still in the rack next to Kit’s beaten-up second-hand one. Libby herself was nowhere to be seen. Kit threw her bag on the ground, leaned her butt against the racks and waited. After five minutes she was starting to worry. Libby’s locker was close to the bike shed. She almost always beat Kit to their meeting point. What on earth could be taking her so long? Kit wandered up the steps and poked her head into the building where Libby’s locker was housed, but the hall was empty.

  Maybe Libby had forgotten that they’d ridden today and caught the bus home? That seemed pretty unlikely, as they’d cycled to school every day for the past two weeks. Maybe she’d got sick during last period and been picked up by her mum? Another improbable scenario, seeing as Mrs Talbot didn’t have her own car. The yard was getting pretty empty now and Kit wasn’t really sure what to do. Should she go to the office and get them to put over an announcement for Libby to report to the office? But if she did that and the office got worried and called Libby’s mum, Lib would kill her. Libby’s freedom depended on keeping her mum as far away from the school as possible.