by Van Badham
I stared at the clock and it was only when the shrill scream of the bell shattered the awful peace in the Maths room that I looked down and realised I hadn’t made a single mark on the hotel notepad for the entire forty minutes of class. My classmates scattered books into bags, and Kylie was already standing, waiting to talk to me.
Working my mouth into a pale smile, I stuffed the blank notepad and pen into my bag and slung my bag over my shoulder. I could see the questions forming on Kylie’s lips when something buzzed against my back. It was my mobile phone. ‘I should take this,’ I said to Kylie, fishing out the phone and clutching it like a vibrating talisman.
‘We’ll talk at recess, okay?’ Kylie said, her voice soft with a kind of annoyed concern. She followed Fran out of the room and I trailed behind, happily losing them when I was out in the corridor.
‘That’s magical timing,’ I said to Lauren, when I got the phone to my ear.
‘There’s nothing magical about it, honey,’ said Lauren. ‘According to my calculations, you’re going to see Mr Brody Stupid Face in around three minutes’ time and I’m phoning in moral support.’
21
‘You’re the best,’ I said to Lauren, dodging the flying limbs of the juniors in the corridor, and smiling as I walked to suddenly less daunting Modern. ‘How’s Canberra?’
‘We’ll be there in about half an hour, ’cos we’re still on the bus,’ Lauren said. ‘Though we had a fascinating refuelling break at a truck stop in Mittagong where I ate a dead rat pie. Now, how far away from the classroom are you?’
‘Fifty metres,’ I guessed.
‘Okay, for fifty metres, repeat these words: “I’m going to a swanky party up in Sydney with my best friend on Saturday and Brody Stupid Face isn’t invited.” ’
‘I can’t say that out loud!’
‘Say it internally. Whisper it to the universe,’ she said.
I held my pendant, of course – but I did as Lauren told me.
22
Only in the last few steps towards the classroom did my resolve begin to fail. ‘I don’t want to walk in there,’ I said to her, my voice cracking. The crowds in the halls were thinning, which meant that class was about to start.
‘Sure you do,’ said Lauren. ‘Push the door open, walk inside. I don’t want you off this phone until you are seated.’
‘Okay.’
The phone stayed pressed to my ear as I tried to push my way through a small crowd that had gathered at the classroom door. It hadn’t occurred to me that we might have our classes in the library today – clearly, an announcement had been made and we were back in Room 150 and my getting it right was just luck. Past the crowd and through the doorway, new windows shone. They were exactly like the old ones, but cleaner.
As I waited for the people at the door to clear, Ms Dwight, in her plain peach dress, came over to see what the hold-up was.
‘It’s because Nikki Cipri is a freak, Ms Dwight,’ said Greg Shoal.
Ms Dwight looked down and it was then I noticed Nikki was actually on her hands and knees on the doorway carpet. ‘Nikki, get yourself off the floor and, please, go and sit at your desk,’ said Ms Dwight. ‘What on earth are you doing?’
‘Spraying holy water on the entrance,’ said Nikki, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
‘You’re doing what?’ asked Ms Dwight.
‘I told the priest at St Don Bosco’s about what had been going on in this room so he gave me a bottle of this stuff. I don’t care if you all think I’m crazy but I’m not sitting through, like, Total Window Armageddon again.’
Some people laughed, some people groaned, and even with my mobile a few centimetres from my ear I could hear Lauren howling with laughter. ‘Just sit down, Nikki,’ said Ms Dwight, with world-weary exasperation. The crowd dispersed and I entered the room walking straight into the glaring green gaze of Brody Meine.
‘Stupid-head alert. I’ll call you later,’ I said to Lauren, and flipped my phone shut.
Putting the phone back into my bag gave me the opportunity to look away from him. Breathing in, I made my eyes glaze over as I walked around Brody to sit at my own desk. He was pretending to read a handout as I took the notepad and pen from my bag and dropped the bag on the floor. Remaining casual was not easy, but I slid into my chair as lightly as I could.
‘Hi,’ he mumbled, not looking at me.
‘Hey there,’ I said, not looking at him.
‘Anglo–French relations in the between-the-wars period,’ said Ms Dwight, and class began.
Holy water. Even for Nikki it was a bit ridiculous. Looking across the room, though, I saw she looked happier than she had in days, and was, unusually, already absorbed in her handout. Belinda, of course, I chose to ignore.
Once Ms Dwight had talked us through the new topic, we proceeded with the sheet. For a few minutes I read paragraphs and underlined statements but my attention could not fight the memory of Saturday night when the boy sitting next to me had created a fire in me that towered over the flames of a burning street. My eyes rolled from the white page and stared at the classroom door.
When Ashley Ventwood arrived, late to class, Brody was fetching a pencil case from his bag and I was still staring straight ahead.
As she trod over the threshold, I almost believed I heard the sharp sound of water evaporating. My imagination had me convinced that I saw a cloud of steam form around her feet and plume, like wisps of dry ice.
23
Eighty minutes passed without incident. Brody and I didn’t touch, we didn’t speak, we didn’t look at one another.
He was gone the second the bell rang, and as he left I exhaled properly for the first time that day. Of course, I still had Nikki’s plan to dread at recess, but I reckoned that if I could survive Modern without screaming, How could you kiss me like that and then leave me for dead? at Brody’s stupid face, I could get through anything.
Nikki, Matt and Belinda were all waiting for me outside the room when I finally summoned the strength to walk outside. ‘See? See!’ Nikki proclaimed to the group. ‘You all laughed at Father Rossi’s holy water but zero weird things just happened then, didn’t they?’
We started walking down the hallway towards the Art room. I noticed that the space seemed to clear before us as we walked – an interesting feat, given that Ms Dwight had repeated today’s school policy that all students must remain inside.
‘That’s like the elephant gun story,’ said Matt.
‘What’s that?’ asked Belinda. Her voice was the half-octave higher it always was when she spoke to boys. It had the same effect on my ears as fingernails dragged down a blackboard.
‘A city cop arrests this guy for walking around with a gun and asks him why he’s carrying it. The dude tells him it’s an elephant gun. The cop goes, “But we don’t have any elephants in this city,” and the dude goes, “Exactly – because I’ve got this elephant gun.” ’
‘I don’t get it,’ said Belinda.
‘It’s just Matt picking on me for being right,’ Nikki retorted.
My mother, I imagined, would have said the same thing – and, like Nikki, would hold tight to her elephant gun, cop or not. I almost explained this thought to Matt, but he was talking privately to Belinda once again. With a grunt, I acknowledged to myself he really had no interest in anything I ever could have told him.
I’d imagined that in a school of one thousand there’d be more than one group of people in any classroom if we were kept indoors for a day, but this wasn’t the case. When we reached the Art room, Ryan, Michelle, Fran, Steve and Kylie had claimed the whole space for themselves. They sat on the tall tables, resting their feet on the stools.
We walked in and Michelle slid off her table and came over to me. Behind her, I heard Ryan call out, ‘I’m loving the whole jeans ensemble, Soph!’
Before I could respond Michelle threw her arms around me. ‘I can’t believe you were in the middle of that fire! We’re just so glad you’re all right!�
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‘Thanks,’ was all I managed, taken aback by the hug.
‘Was it bad?’ asked Steve.
Michelle released me but she kept her hands pressed to my arms and stared at me with concern.
‘Yeah, it was pretty frightening,’ I said. ‘They reckon some people have lost everything.’
Nikki squashed herself and her bag onto the table next to Ryan. As he slid his arm around her and kissed her head, she said, ‘Yeah, she looks way cute but she needs more eye makeup,’ looking straight at me. ‘Like, side-ponies are cut but can look a bit sloppy if you don’t highlight the eyes.’
‘You would say that,’ said Fran. ‘You’re such a slut for mascara.’
Nikki snorted.
‘At least the hotel was nice,’ I said, gently palming Michelle away and reaching into my bag for my snack pack. ‘They even gave us a packed lunch.’ I pulled it out of my bag with a flourish, hoping they’d look at it and not at me.
‘What were you doing at home anyway?’ said Michelle.
‘You said you were going to some big Sydney party,’ said Belinda. ‘Wouldn’t they let you in?’
As my stomach churned, the door swung open. A giggling group of girls from Year 10 walked two steps into the room before a staring silence from our group froze them in their tracks. ‘We’re in here,’ said Ryan and Michelle in unison, and the girls immediately retreated.
Belinda was not going to be deterred by this interruption. ‘Or are you too good for a party at my house?’
‘You missed some interesting stuff,’ said Matt.
‘Yeah, if you consider Gretchen Eighfield sucking the tongue out of Scott Moss more interesting than disgusting,’ said Fran. The door swung open again and Rob Rogers and Garth walked into the room, looking sweaty.
‘You don’t know if that really happened,’ said Michelle.
‘There are photos going up on Facebook,’ Fran said.
‘Gretchen’s a gross bitch,’ said Garth, sniffing his own armpit.
‘Don’t forget Donna Carol trying to pick up Rob when she was drunk,’ said Fran.
‘Yeah, please remind me,’ said Rob with a grunt. Fran giggled theatrically.
‘And Greg Shoal finally getting a piece of Louise Parker.’
Voices were raised and Fran was excited. ‘And that chick – what’s that chick’s name in Year 10 – the one with the long hair—’
‘Chynna Franks? The blonde with fat arms?’ suggested Ryan.
Now, Fran was laughing ‘—trying to rip the shirt off Brody Meine!’
‘ “Can I touch your bleeding back, Brody?” ’ Ryan said in a high voice. He and Fran now howled with laughter. Even Matt chuckled.
‘You really should have been there,’ said Michelle. ‘What happened up in Sydney?’
I was a couple of seconds too slow with the answer, and Nikki’s voice rang through the room.
‘They gave her the wrong dates for the thing,’ she said. ‘But Belinda made such a big deal about her not coming, Sophie stayed home that night and almost died in a fire.’
Belinda’s eyes flamed into mine. ‘Is that what you’ve been telling my friends?’ she hissed.
‘No,’ I said.
Nikki’s eyes sliced towards Belinda. ‘Oi, woman, that’s our friends,’ she spat. ‘Sophie’s in this group and we are a group of close friends and I am taking this up with you because she’s the new girl.’ Nikki jabbed her finger at Belinda’s face. ‘You are supposed to make her feel welcome!’
‘She’s the one who didn’t come to my party,’ Belinda said.
‘You didn’t really make the invitation very friendly,’ said Kylie, who then turned her head and added, ‘Did she, Fran?’
Nikki’s eyes widened. She looked at Kylie, then Fran, and then Belinda – and when she did look at Belinda, her mouth was shrivelled with rage. She wasn’t angry about my exclusion from the party for my sake; she was angry that Belinda’s decision had been discussed with Fran and Kylie, but Nikki’s input had not been sought. To not be involved in a group decision clearly infuriated her. Under the spoken conversation a mighty battle was taking place. Watching Nikki glare at Belinda was like Godzilla staring down King Kong.
Fran unwrapped a muesli bar and didn’t say anything. Neither did the boys. All of them just swung their legs, or chewed food, or looked at nothing.
The tension made my stomach hurt.
Now Michelle turned to Belinda. ‘Yeah, Blin – you did make a really big deal about it.’
Belinda glowered. ‘What have I done, exactly? Apart from throw a big party that everyone except one person came to? Apart from let everyone come to my house and have a good time?’ She spun around and stared at me again. ‘Did I really make you feel so unwelcome, Soph? Tell me. Tell everyone.’
There was silence in the room. I saw what no one else did, that the corners of Belinda’s mouth twisted upwards to make her smile as threatening as possible.
I may not enjoy Maths, but that doesn’t mean I can’t count. I looked around the group. Nikki was in one corner, Belinda in another, but Kylie and Michelle seemed to be on Nikki’s side with me. Fran was chewing her muesli bar so nervously I thought she might bite off her lip – one look at her revealed she’d never go against the majority. The boys were clearly staying out of this one, so it was five against one.
‘Did I?’ Belinda demanded.
My gaze levelled hers. ‘Yeah, actually,’ I said in a flat voice. ‘You really did.’
‘Fine!’ Belinda screeched. She sounded like a vulture deprived of its next meal. Garth motioned to Rob and Matt, and the three of them picked up their bags and left the room. Steve’s eyes followed them, but Kylie’s hand was quick to Steve’s wrist.
‘You were really rude,’ said Nikki with a vengeful little laugh. ‘So,’ she continued, speaking to the remains of the group with her hand on her hip, ‘girls’ night, my house, Friday night. Cakes, DVDs and a Tell-All. Michelle, you coming?’
‘That’d be nice,’ said Michelle.
‘Kylie?’
‘I’m in,’ said Kylie, with a defiant look at Belinda.
‘Soph, I’d really like you to come over,’ said Nikki.
‘Thank you for the invitation,’ I said.
Nikki dismissed Belinda with a blunt, ‘You’re not invited,’ and we all watched Belinda storm out of the room. ‘Fran?’
Fran looked really pale. ‘I – I can’t make it.’
‘Why not?’ asked Michelle. ‘Because of Belinda?’
Silence fell. Fran squirmed. On the other side of the room, I heard the door fall closed. When Fran finally said, ‘No,’ I knew that Belinda must be out of earshot.
‘Then what are you doing?’ demanded Nikki.
‘I’ve got plans,’ said Fran.
‘To do what?’ asked Michelle.
When Fran didn’t speak, everyone looked at her.
‘Just – plans,’ she said. ‘I’m going to see if the canteen’s open.’
24
As Fran left, Nikki sneered and reached into her bag to pull out a snack. I was about to thank her for taking a stand for me, but before I could formulate the words, she had reclaimed her seat, rearranged Ryan’s arm over her shoulder and was whispering into his ear. Kylie was similarly engaged with Steve.
I turned to Michelle, not really knowing what to say, but her gaze was unfocused and she clearly wasn’t up for one on one conversation.
‘We shouldn’t,’ said Michelle to what was left of the group, ‘you know, we shouldn’t talk about Friday when Belinda’s around. I think she’s got the message.’
‘Yeah, I think she got it,’ said Ryan with a proud smirk.
‘I’ll make a shortlist of DVDs to watch and text everyone what to bring,’ said Nikki, then she turned back to Ryan. Kylie and Steve were still talking, their voices low.
Michelle turned to me. ‘I’m going to see if Fran’s all right,’ she said, grabbing her bag. Then she was gone too.
Rather than ingr
atiate myself into either couple’s conversation, I took my mobile phone out of my bag and punched the words I survived into a text for Lauren. That kept me occupied for twelve whole seconds.
Feeling vacant and excluded, I wandered towards the windows. The sky was greying and I envied the cool, green world of the Senior Quad – it was easy to dream of exchanging it for the aftermath of tension in the Art room. Counting down the seconds till the end of recess, I was distracted by a glimpse of someone in school uniform bustling around the raised seating area at the quad’s far end.
Curious to know who was breaking the outside prohibition, I rested my hands on the sill and pressed the left side of my face against the window, trying to identify the person as the glass stung my cheek with cold. Whoever it was seemed to be playing with a billowing black plastic bag, but what they were doing, whether the student was female or male or whether there was someone with them, wasn’t clear. I guessed that it might have been Gretchen and the girls doing some kind of advanced-nerd air-quality test or something, but a pathetic part of me hoped it was Brody Meine, wrapping me a bunch of red roses in black tissue paper, about to write a note to go with them saying, I’m sorry, Sophie. I have an immensely stupid face.
I stared as hard as I could, but distance, trees, dull light and the angle of the glass made the figure impossible to make out.
When the bell rang, I heard the scrape of chairs and some dull goodbyes behind me. I lifted my hand and waved, but my eyes didn’t move from the window.
The figure moved.
My vantage point was limited, but not enough to obscure the fact that the plastic bag was no such thing. And it certainly wasn’t wrapping for roses.
