Risk

by Fleur Ferris

  Riley over-exaggerates a shrug and raises her eyebrows – a ‘whatever’ look. I ignore it and take off towards the main building.

  I open Mila Park’s email. It contains general information and links to the Winston & Zeal website. It’s professional and encouraging. Her email actually sounds very positive, as if her representing me is a real possibility. I love the idea. Sierra, especially, would love it. She would think it was glamorous. I haven’t spoken to Mum about it, but I’m sure she’d be fine. Mila Park. It sounds like a place. Mila Park. I say her name over and over in my head. I have an agent and her name is Mila Park. Call my agent. I giggle to myself at the thought of ever actually saying those words. But at the back of my mind, a hint of guilt nags at me. I know I shouldn’t be so excited about this prospect. I know I shouldn’t be loving being more popular, because it came about in such a horrible way … but I am excited. I’m proud of my website. I ignore the nagging feeling. My website could say, ‘For bookings, contact Mila Park of Winston & Zeal.’ Inside, I giggle again.

  I have five minutes left of lunch hour to rush around and find Callum and tell him the news. The bell is sounding by the time I find him at the lockers. It’s crowded and I have to push my way through people to get to him. I want to apologise about changing the speech, but with everyone around I feel embarrassed and decide to leave that conversation for later.

  ‘Callum, guess what?’

  He narrows his eyes. ‘What?’

  ‘I contacted a booking agency and they’ve replied.’ I jump up and down. ‘I might be getting an agent! We might be getting an agent! Can you believe it? Well, we’ll have to get permission and everything first, but I’m sure our parents’ll be fine with it.’

  ‘That’s great, Taylor.’ He slams his locker shut.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Callum!’

  We stare at each other for a few seconds. Our eyes lock. My stomach flips.

  ‘I want nothing to do with the talks. You can do that side of it on your own.’

  ‘What? I know I shouldn’t have changed the speech at the last minute like that. I’m sorry. Just with everything … once I got up there, it seemed –’

  He walks off.

  ‘Callum, wait! I said I was sorry.’

  Callum stops, turns, looks me in the eye and shakes his head, then walks away. I’m left staring after him. I can’t believe how angry he is about this. I see Riley at the far end of the corridor and turn towards her. She looks away and keeps walking.

  Callum is brusque for the rest of the day and Riley keeps her distance again. I can’t understand it. It’s the first day I’m feeling a little uplifted. Sierra would be thrilled about the idea of an agent.

  At the end of the day, I walk across the oval alone. Callum is ahead of me. He knows I’m behind him but he doesn’t wait for me. He stops outside his mum’s car. As I approach, he comes closer.

  ‘Tomorrow I might start riding my bike to school again.’

  ‘Oh.’

  He turns and dumps himself into the front seat. He doesn’t speak the whole way home. We pull in to my drive.

  ‘Thanks so much for all these lifts to school,’ I say to his mum. ‘Tomorrow I’ve got something on and I’ll find my own way.’

  ‘Okay, Taylor. See you next time,’ she says in her cheery voice.

  ‘Bye. Bye, Callum.’

  He grunts at me. I get out, deflated.

  I wish I hadn’t changed my speech. I feel terrible. I knew Callum hated doing prepared speeches, let alone impromptu ones … But he could have still done his speech exactly as he had planned. Why is he so angry about this? I go over the day in my head. Callum was quiet at the meeting before the talk. I put that down to two things. Sierra’s killer not being caught yet and him being worried about speaking in front of the whole school. Do I have it all wrong? Maybe it was something I said? Maybe my new speech was too emotional. Or it’s something aside from the speech, like the website taking off like it has. It’s certainly overwhelming me that Risk is growing so fast …

  I wish he would just say what it is. Everything’s been so complicated since Sierra died. I don’t know what’s what and I don’t know how to deal with Callum or Riley right now.

  I log on to Risk, read and answer emails and start a discussion topic:

  Mixed emotions: When everyone around you is grieving, how carefully should you tread? How do you know what’s what – what to do and what to say?

  People run with it immediately, expressing their opinions, telling their stories of grief. Some have lost friends to suicide, others to car accidents or illness. There’s a lot of grief in the world and some of the kids have wise words to share.

  I flick over to my emails. Girls have started sending in photos of guys they haven’t even met yet – guys they’re about to meet. It seems to be some sort of just-in-case mentality, some kind of safety strategy – if I go missing, you have this photo.

  I examine each image as I save it. There are about thirty photos stored so far. I flick through them. Collectively, it’s embarrassing – guys, walking on beaches mostly, laughing, trying to look friendly and nice and fun to be with. One guy is on a push-bike, another paddling in a kayak. One guy sent his police line-up picture. It’s a head shot and he holds a blackboard in front of his chest that has his name and a number on it. On his fingers are green tattoos that read ‘LOVE’ on one hand, and ‘HATE’ on the other. Then I see the letters ‘GSOH’ below the numbers and realise it’s a mock-up. A joke. I smile and wonder if there is some truth to his photo and he really has been to jail and doesn’t want to hide the fact … maybe he’s the only one here who isn’t hiding something.

  Each girl has a message that reminds me of Sierra:

  It’s like we’ve known each other forever.

  I think we knew each other in another life.

  I can’t believe we’ve only just met but already know each other so well.

  It’s how I felt about Jacob Jones. The whole thing sickens me. Are they all being stalked? I’m getting paranoid.

  One user, Fliss, is ecstatic about her guy. The picture of him is from a distance, but he looks cute. He’s on a beach, walking along in a white t-shirt and his jeans rolled up to mid-calf. The stormy sky behind him is beautiful. There’s something about the beach that feels familiar. I study it, but can’t place it.

  I read Fliss’s message a few times. It makes me think of Sierra.

  It reads:

  OMFG!!! This guy’s perfect! I think I’m in love! We’re gonna meet up – Friday arvo at St Kilda Marina. Can’t wait. Arrrrrgh!!!!!!!!!!

  It reminds me so much of Big Friday. I can’t help but think of Sierra sitting with me at school, going on about it. Fliss’s email is just what Sierra would have written. And sadly, I see myself, too, falling stupidly head over heels for Jacob Jones, feeling the same way.

  Don’t do it, Fliss, I feel like writing back. You don’t know this guy.

  But I know not every guy is bad.

  Hey, Fliss, thanks for sharing. Good luck! T x

  There’s a knock at the door. It’s Callum. My heart picks up speed.

  ‘Hi,’ I say, stepping aside.

  ‘I read your discussion topic.’

  ‘Oh,’ I say, trying to gauge if he’s angry.

  ‘Why didn’t you just ask me? You don’t have to do a public post for every problem you have.’ His breathing is laboured. He just got off his bike.

  ‘Would you like a drink?’ I ask.

  ‘Why do you do that, Taylor?’

  I turn and look at him. I’m not exactly sure what I do. ‘What?’

  He rolls his eyes. ‘Always divert conversation away from con frontation.’

  I do. I hate confrontation. I never go in headfirst. Words escape me. I stand in the kitchen not sure what to say.

  ‘You obviously want to know what’s wrong.’

  ‘I asked you what was wrong at school,’ I say. ‘You sai
d “nothing”. What do you expect me to do? If I keep asking, it’s nagging and annoying, and I don’t want to be those things.’

  He runs his hands through his hair. ‘It’s impossible to stay angry at you. That in itself is infuriating.’

  I stare at him. Something about him is different. He’s being assertive again. More like he was before Sierra disappeared. I like this Callum.

  ‘Well, talk to me, then. I’m right here in front of you. Don’t make me guess.’

  ‘Jacob Jones.’

  His name being spoken like that is like being shoved in the chest. I step back and press my back into the kitchen bench. I move along until I find a stool and prop myself on top of it. I wait for him to continue.

  ‘You never told me you fell for Jacob Jones – that you wanted to meet him, that you would have met him, given the chance. You never told me you were in love with him. I find this out in front of the whole school.’ Callum’s face is red.

  I swallow. Suddenly my throat is dry and restricted. I can’t believe my thoughtlessness.

  ‘I just wanted to show that Sierra wasn’t alone. That she wasn’t stupid and didn’t do anything someone else wouldn’t have done. I wanted to give her some credibility. People were saying the worst things about her. Sierra had a reputation for being a bit wild. I don’t. If it had been me … It’s terrible, but people would have been more shocked. I just wanted to show …’ My voice trails off.

  ‘Taylor, what does that mean for us?’ I like how he says ‘us’. His lips come together to make their perfect shape. I can’t stop looking at them. His hair … I love it – so messy, yet so straight. His eyes hold mine. I don’t really understand the question.

  ‘Nothing,’ I say.

  He drops his eyes to the floor. That was the wrong answer.

  ‘Look,’ I say, ‘today I’ve had a good day. It is the first good day I’ve had since Sierra died.’

  He flinches at the ‘d’ word.

  ‘I’m excited about the possibility of having an agent,’ I say, ‘and thrilled about the success of the website – it could help find the guy who did it. And even if it doesn’t, it could stop another girl from making Sierra’s mistake.’

  ‘Almost your mistake, you mean,’ he spits.

  ‘Are you jealous? Is that what this is about?’

  His eyes stay cast to the floor.

  ‘I’m sorry, Callum, that my life did not revolve around you. I was crushing on Jacob Jones, too. And yes, at the time I wished I was going to meet him.’

  ‘I gotta go,’ he says.

  He gets up from his chair and heads to the door.

  ‘You came here, Callum. Can’t you stay and talk? We haven’t finished this.’

  ‘You’re wrong, Taylor. We have.’ His eyes hold mine, then he walks out the door. The wind catches it and slams it shut behind him. The noise startles me. He probably thinks I did that.

  I walk back to the kitchen. Sierra, I wish you were here. I need you. Why did it have to be you?

  I ring Riley. She picks up straightaway.

  I cry at the sound of her voice.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Her voice shakes.

  ‘Nothing to do with Sierra,’ I say quickly.

  I hear her exhale.

  ‘I just had a fight with Callum and he left.’ It sounds lame after mentioning Sierra. There’s silence down the line. ‘Riley, are you there?’

  ‘What was the fight about?’ Her voice is icy.

  ‘I said in my speech that I fell for Jacob Jones, too.’

  ‘Yeah, then the very next day you get with Callum. He must feel very special.’

  ‘What do you mean? That had nothing to do with –’

  She cuts me off. ‘The problem is, Taylor, since Sierra died, you’ve become her. You’re all, “Look at me, look at me, argh, my website’s so big, I’m getting an agent, I fell for Jacob Jones, too”. And when the guy who’s really in love with you is standing in front of seven hundred fellow students and finds out he was your consolation prize, just like Sierra, you’re all, “What’s he so shitty about?” You wanted to be her before she died, Taylor, and now you are her. All this attention-seeking is why people didn’t like her.’ She hangs up.

  I hold the phone to my ear for a few seconds after Riley’s gone, stunned. My breath is caught in my throat. Riley’s wrong. I’m not turning into Sierra. I place the phone down on the table. I walk upstairs, lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling. The feeling inside me is numbness. A massive, strange void that makes me feel like my body’s not mine. My mind has detached itself from my body and I feel nothing. It’s nice. I lie still, so nothing disturbs this strange state. I like it. No pain.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ Mum’s voice startles me and brings me back. I didn’t hear her come in.

  ‘Yes,’ I say. Pain floods back to every part of me and every muscle tenses protectively. I roll over to face her. ‘Is everything okay with you?’ Really I’m asking about Rachel. It’s late – she must have been there.

  ‘Nothing came of Miffy the Kat.’ Mum walks in and sits on my bed. ‘They did find some footage of him meeting her, but again – pfft. Vapour.’ She twists the air with her fingers as she says it. ‘Rachel never got to see the footage but Kel told her that it shows Miffy and the guy sitting in the Greendale shopping centre food court. He wore a baseball cap so his face wasn’t captured. Miffy dashes off to the toilets and stops to speak to a woman coming out. It was obvious Miffy knew her and it turns out she was one of her mother’s friends. Miffy was very surprised to see her and kept glancing over her shoulder – you can tell she’s really uncomfortable.

  ‘The guy saw this, and when she went into the toilets he casually got up and walked to the nearest exit. The homicide squad is dealing with it. They say the woman probably spooked him. He and Miffy chose Greendale because Miffy didn’t know anyone out there. She didn’t want her mum to find out about what she was doing. One good thing is that if he’s ever caught, Miffy will be able to identify him.’ Tears gloss over Mum’s eyes. ‘I can’t stop thinking how lucky Miffy was, to run into that family friend …’

  This news rocks me. I was so certain that with this new lead he would be caught. I was counting on it.

  ‘Is Miffy in danger?’

  ‘I guess she could be if the guy knew the police were in contact with her, but you didn’t put her comments on the website so he wouldn’t know. Her parents … well, you can imagine what they’re like. All the what-ifs …’

  I go downstairs and log on to Risk. Girls have sent in even more photos. As I’m saving them, Fliss’s image catches my eye again. I open it. The dark sky suddenly seems ominous. There’s something wrong about this image. It’s not like the one Jacob Jones sent to me, yet for some reason it reminds me of it. The guy is looking away from the camera, like Jacob Jones was. You can’t really tell what he looks like. I can’t place the beach, but there’s something familiar about it. Fliss’s message, the photo … it bothers me.

  I stare at the photo for a while longer. I know I’m being paranoid. Will this awful feeling ever go away?

  I look at the number of views: over twenty-five thousand. I think about ways I can push it along a bit. I want to make it to one million.

  I look at Sierra on the home page. Her little baby face, smiling at the camera – so innocent. I search her face in each photo. She was gorgeous her whole life. Riley’s comment about her seeking attention rings in my ears. She did seek attention. Constantly. Why was she like that? Did we really know Sierra? Every image shows her sparkle. If she was ever uncertain, she masked it so well.

  I check my email. I have two more requests from schools, asking if I’d be interested in telling my story.

  Mum walks into the kitchen and sits beside me to see what I’m reading.

  ‘Some other schools are interested in hearing Sierra’s story,’ I say.

  ‘Is that something you want to do?’

  ‘I think it is,’ I say. ‘I looked up some speakers’ agenc
ies …’ My face flushes red. I open Mila Park’s email and turn the computer so Mum can read it.

  ‘They replied quickly,’ Mum says.

  ‘Yes, it all happened today.’

  Mum leans into the computer to read the details. ‘So she’d be your agent? And you’d be paid for these talks?’

  ‘I guess. If it goes ahead. But I would still do it for free.’

  ‘Maybe you should wait and see if more schools contact you before going ahead with the agency.’

  ‘You don’t think the agent’s a good idea?’ I’m a little deflated by her response.

  ‘It’s not that. If you have too many talks to manage, it’s a great idea. But perhaps wait and see if the requests for talks continue and then, if they do – and if it’s something you still want to do – then you can register with the agency.’ Mum hugs me. ‘Sierra would be really proud of what you’ve done.’

  I drop my eyes.

  ‘Maybe. Callum and Riley aren’t.’ I’m upset and sorry about Callum; I feel terrible about it. But I’m not sorry about what Riley accused me of. That just made me angry. I shouldn’t have to feel bad about what I’m doing for Sierra. Sierra would be happy for me and Riley should be, too.

  Mum looks at me.

  ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

  ‘Not really. Not yet, anyway. I need more time to make sense of everything.’

  ‘Are you going to be okay at school tomorrow?’

  I nod. ‘I’m just going to concentrate on the website and make it as good as it can be.’

  ‘How’s your schoolwork? Are you catching up?’

  ‘Slowly.’

  ‘The school has offered after-school tutoring. How about we give it another couple of weeks and if you’re still behind we’ll look into it.’

  ‘Yeah, we probably should.’

  Mum gets up to start preparing dinner. I work on Risk. I go through every page and discussion topic and reply and make comments where I feel it’s needed. I then start writing the blog post I’ve been thinking about.

  Survivor guilt: I have it.

  Losing Sierra has turned my world upside down and I’m struggling to deal with it. I don’t know what I’m allowed to feel, how to behave, or what I should say or shouldn’t say to friends. I’m confused about things that were once crystal clear. My priorities have been thrown into a jumbled mess and I can’t make sense of them. What seemed so important before seems insignificant now. I haven’t been very good to my friends. Maybe I feel I don’t deserve them. My counsellor tells me I’m suffering from a condition called survivor guilt.