“What’s wrong with how I usually dress?” I frown.
“You know your sister is the style icon in the family.” Mum takes another sip of wine, and smiles. “Don’t look so wounded, Eleanor. This is nothing new.”
And it isn’t. But for some reason, tonight the words hurt far more than usual.
***
The rest of dinner passes as it usually does, and at precisely 8:30p.m., Mum opens the front door and bids the three of us good night.
“My car.” Dani frowns at me, and I shrug.
“Sorry. Mine was in the shop.”
The double doors to the house close with a thud, and the white porch illuminates the scene as Dani walks around to the driver’s side, her hand trailing over the roof of the car as if I could have possibly hurt it somehow.
“Good night, Eleanor.” Colin smiles. “See you on the weekend.” He leans in and wraps his arms around me. He smells of mint, and musk, and berries. It’s an odd combination. He pulls back and looks in my eyes. Light from the house reflects off his glasses. “Don’t let them bully you, okay? You stay strong.”
My emotions wage war on my body. Is he a creep, or in my corner?
“Good night, Colin.” Dani singsongs, waving at him from the driver’s side of her car.
“Night,” he waves back. “Tell that Zy of yours that I expect him to be on time this weekend.”
“He’s not my Zy.” Dani rolls her eyes as she hops into the car. “We are flatmates and friends. That is all.”
“I don’t know who she thinks she’s fooling.” Colin walks over to his car, and I open the passenger door of Dani’s.
“Keys.” She holds out her hand, her jaw working again.
“Here.” I hand them over. “You should get that fixed.” I nod at the dark interior light above us, but she just shrugs, so I swipe my hand over the passenger seat, clearing the trash to the floor before I sit.
“Hey!” Dani frowns. “That’s my stuff.”
I raise my eyebrows at her. “Really?”
She sighs. The car engine ticks over, and I slam my door, turning to look at my sister. On the outside, she appears just the same as she did a few months ago. Somehow, though, something has changed.
Am I ... losing her?
“Dani, are you okay?” I ask softly.
She blinks, and something flashes over her face before she replies. “Fine.”
“Are you sure?” I ask as the car pulls out of the drive and onto the main street.
Dani leans forward and turns the dial on the radio up. Electronic dance music fills the car. It’s so loud it throbs in my chest. So loud I feel it in my soul.
When we finally reach home in Emerald Cove, I waste no time in flying from the car to the house, leaving her to whatever weird mood she’s in. Something is definitely going on with her.
It’s not until I’m about to go to sleep that I realise my phone is missing. I feel for it in my jeans pocket, clutching at the thin material but not coming up with anything.
I pull on a pair of sweatpants over my naked legs and tiptoe out of the house over to the car. Upstairs, lights are on in Dani and Zy’s apartment. Loud music, the same electronic beat Dani had blaring in the car earlier, pounds from their window. I wince. I so do not want to go into that.
Taking my chances, I try the doorhandle and find the car unlocked.
“Thank God,” I whisper. I feel around on the seat for the phone, the light from the moon my only guide as I search for the familiar hard metallic shape.
I fumble blindly for a few minutes and then, right underneath the seat, I wrap my hand around my phone. Pulling it out, several pieces of trash come with it, and I can’t help my smile. Maybe Dani and I are more similar than I’d thought. We both certainly can’t keep our cars clean.
My smile freezes at what’s in my hand.
Along with my phone is a small bag of tiny white pills.
The talking too fast. The working of her jaw.
Shit.
CHAPTER TEN
Bellbirds sing in the trees, the branches creaking in protest at the wind that batters against them. I pull my jacket tighter around my body. It’s protection, to stop the weather outside chilling my bones, and to stop the pain inside leaching out into the world.
I clutch the small bunch of flowers tighter in my hand until the stems dig into my palm. I hold them tight, as if they might fly away.
The walk to the grave is lonely. It always is. Each time, the path seems more desolate than before. Sure, there are people around, weeping widows and crying children, but I’m isolated. Solitary.
Alone.
I kneel and throw the stale stems from the brown cup that sits over the tombstone and shove the new flowers in, shuffling them around until they sit just so. “Banksia and thryp,” I whisper, smiling softly. “Your favourites.”
I settle back and cross my legs, then shift from side to side on the cold brick-paved path, trying to get comfortable.
“So ...” I glance around. There are only a few mourners, scattered throughout the grounds. They’re wrapped in their own grief. “So I found pills in Dani’s car yesterday.”
Saying the words is oddly freeing. It makes me feel better. A problem shared is a problem halved, and even if our father can’t answer back, or give advice, it’s nice to let it out.
“And I know I shouldn’t really worry. People experiment with drugs all the time.” I pause and chew my lip. Overhead, grey clouds scoot closer, the ferocious wind gusting them along. “She’s not a baby anymore. I can’t tell her what to do.”
I swallow down the lump that’s in my throat. “I just ...” I purse my lips together. “I can’t handle the thought of losing anyone else. But I worry that if I try to protect her, I’m just going to push her away.”
I trace my index finger over the letters of his name. It’s a gesture I’ve done a thousand times, and as usual, it provides a small river of relief rushing down my spine.
“I’ll ... I’ll think of something. Don’t worry, Dad.” I press my fingers to my lips, then right in the centre of the plaque. “I won’t let you down.”
***
I sit on the couch, shoving invites into envelopes for my mother’s Cancer Australia fundraiser. My head isn’t here though.
My head is on my sister.
And what the hell I’m going to do about her.
“What are you looking so worried about?” Hope asks, shuffling into the living room.
“Oh!” I shake my head. I can’t let everyone know how worried I am about Dani. That’s my problem, and my problem alone.
Hope’s looking at me expectantly. I school my features into a neutral expression. “Nothing.”
“Yeah right.” She falls into the couch next to me and grabs a pillow, clutching it close to her chest. “Are you sure it’s not your hot date today?”
“That must be it.” I grin and face her, then glance out the window. Joel isn’t due to pick me up for another ten minutes, but nerves flutter through me just picturing his face.
“And so I shouldn’t expect you back until tomorrow?” She waggles her eyebrows.
“Hey!” I slap her arm. “I am going to be a lady. I won’t bring him home for sex on the second date.”
The subtle growl of a car sounds in the drive. We both look out the window at the same time.
Hope whistles appreciatively. “Nice car.”
I nod. “I know, right? His family has always had money.” Slamming my laptop shut, I grab my handbag from the coffee table and stand, doing a small twirl and pointing to my blue denim jeans and navy and white striped top that hugs my curves and exposes just a little cleavage. “Outfit okay?”
Hope purses her lips, then jumps to her feet. “Wait!”
A knock sounds at the door, and Hope hollers “Just a minute” as she runs from the room down the hall, and comes back a few seconds later, black tube in hand. “Purse.”
I obediently push my lips into a kiss face, and she paints some
colour onto them.
“Smack.”
I run my lips together as Hope holds up a compact for me. My eyes widen. She has painted hot pink lipstick on me. It somehow suits my skin tone. It’s a shade that I’m completely unused to, but that I now really want to wear. “Thank you. It actually ...” I shrug. “I feel like it makes me look hot.”
“Hell yeah you do!” Hope dances around behind me and slaps my arse. “Now go get ‘im, tiger!”
Laughing, I walk over to the door and swing it open.
Joel wears a white tee and jeans. They’re not what capture my attention, though. It’s the lusty glaze that passes over his eyes as he takes me in, the way he swallows and his Adam’s apple bobs.
Operation = in progress.
“Hey.” I lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, careful not to go too hard in case the lipstick leaves a mark. Up close, he smells so good, and it takes all my self-control not to lick him. Because, seriously.
Joel clears his throat as I pull away. “Hi.”
Silence stretches between us, and then I point to his car. “Shall we?”
It jerks him into action, and he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
He heads over to the car and I follow him. He opens the door for me, and as I go to slide into the luxurious car interior Hope fist pumps in the window. I grin uncontrollably.
We drive off, heading out of our street and onto the main road. Instead of turning right, toward town, we head left, and I tilt my head to the side, curious. “Where are we off to this time?”
“We’re headed to the university.”
“Oh!” The university? What kind of a date location is that?
“Yeah.” Joel glances at me, gives a small shake of his head before turning back to the road. “You look ... wow.”
All my apprehension disappears with that one word. I practically melt into a puddle of Ellie goo on the front seat of his expensive car. “Thank you.”
We pull into the university parking lot thirty minutes later, and hop out of the car. Cars typical of the average uni student surround us. Older. A little beaten up. Joel’s is definitely the nicest of them all.
“So now are you going to tell me what we’re doing here?” I press, shutting the door as I join Joel outside.
“Sure.” He leans back against his vehicle—something I could never do with my own, as that would imply I cleaned it—and smiles. “So today, we are doing a short acting workshop, and then performing in a play.”
“Ha!” I bark a laugh. There’s no way he’s serious. First of all, I don’t act. Secondly, it’s after midday. That’s not enough time to learn lines or practise. Thirdly, I don’t act.
In school, the last time I had to give a speech for some sort of debate class, I vomited.
On stage.
On the hottest guy in class.
Joel surely remembers that.
Since then, there’s been karaoke, when I had booze to fuel me, but that was in front of around twenty people. And again, I had alcohol. Copious amounts of it.
Aside from that, I’ve been lucky enough never to have to be centre stage, a position I gladly leave for my mother and sister. After all, there’s only so much limelight to go around.
Joel looks at me, his face serious, and suddenly I know. “You have got to be kidding me.”
He shakes his head. “Nope. ‘Fraid not. Deadly serious.” He winks, and then steps closer. “You got a problem with that?”
I throw my head back and look at the sky. Of all the damn things ... “Seriously! Your last challenge involved hot laps, and even though it didn’t end up being quite as bad as I’d thought, it was still freaking scary. Now you want me to go in some kind of play? And have people watch?” My voice peaks on the final word.
“Hey.” Joel steps closer and places a hand on my arm. Even through my shirt, I can feel it warming. Calming. “It’s going to be okay.”
I give a bitter laugh. “Are you trying to find things that freak me out on purpose?”
“Of course not,” he says, and runs his hands over his head. “This was on my list. And when I saw it, I thought of you. How amazing you are. And how ... how sometimes, you don’t force yourself to shine.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just mean ... Life is short. It’s all about being all you can be. Living in the moment. Standing on the stage.”
“I like my life in the wings.”
“How do you know you don’t like the spotlight if you’ve never stood in its glare?” Joel steps close, and presses his eyelids closed. “I just want you to let the world see the Ellie Mayfield I’m falling for the second time around.” His eyes flash open. “Even though I know I’m not supposed to.”
My breath catches in my throat and my heart dissolves. “Do you really think I can?” I whisper, even though we’re alone, even though there’s no other sound except the calling of the bellbirds.
Joel takes my hand. His are cool, and his pale skin matches my own. “Yes.”
And with that, Joel leads me off to face my fears for the third time in as many weeks.
And I’m starting to think I might like it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The workshop is surprisingly easy. Joel has us registered, and we join eight others in the class—two students of the university, the others all outsiders, like Joel and me.
Mr Brickendorf, our teacher, does some warm-up exercises with us that are surprisingly fun. They’re improvisation games that see us finishing sentences, acting up and getting lost in the moment.
Finally, we split into groups of two and the teacher hands us all our scenes, and Joel and I practise ours for the remainder of the day. It’s only short, barely fifteen minutes all up, and to my surprise, learning the lines comes rather easily to me.
Still, it doesn’t make me feel any more comfortable now that we’re in the campus cafeteria, taking a break before we head over to the auditorium for our performance pieces. Learning lines and saying them to Joel is one thing. It’s almost nice to pretend to be someone else for a change.
Saying those lines in front of a room full of people is another thing entirely.
“You freaking out?” Joel asks, as the waitress brings over a bowl of fries smothered in aioli.
I nod. “Only with every cell in my entire body.”
“You were fine at karaoke the other night.”
“I was drunk, on the run from my mother, and in a pub where I doubt anyone was watching, let alone sober enough to judge and watch at the same time,” I say, then add in at the last minute, “And even then I was freaking the hell out.”
He smiles kindly, and shakes his head. “Let’s talk through it. What are you most worried about?”
I chew my lip. “Failure. Embarrassing myself. Embarrassing you. Having ... having people judge me.”
“People will always judge you,” Joel says simply, and he takes a fry and pops it in his mouth. “It’s how you handle it that makes the difference.”
“I plan on handling it by vomiting.” I nod sagely. “And maybe passing out.”
“Good thing I ordered an ice cream sundae after this. I think you’ll need the sugar rush.” Joel teases, and I laugh.
“Trust me—right now, there is way too much fear rushing through me. I don’t think sugar will do anything.” As I say the words, my feet tap under the table. It’s true. Nervous energy crashes through me like a tidal wave.
“Well, how about we start you off small? Get you used to a bit of audience attention.” Joel rests back in his chair, a smile lighting his face.
“Oh yeah?” I grab a chip and eat it. “And how do you propose we do that?”
A wicked gleam passes across Joel’s eyes, and before I have a chance to stop him he’s jumped on top of his chair. Half the twenty-odd people in the cafeteria turn to look at him, some with curious expressions, others ones of ridicule.
I sink down into my plastic bucket seat. This is not happening ...
“Ladies and g
entlefolk of the cafeteria, can I have your attention please?”
Now everyone stops what they’re doing, and turns to face Joel. I clasp one hand over my eyes. I have no idea what’s about to happen next, but I already have a bad feeling ...
“You all need to meet the lovely Ellie Mayfield, a woman whose looks are only surpassed by her talent,” he cries, and my cheeks fire up. Oh God. Oh why, why, why is he doing this to me?
“Ellie is actually a possessor of great skill. She has a talent that not everyone in this room shares,” he says, gesturing widely around the room. Then, he points to the lady behind the cash register. “Madam, may I have a packet of your finest snakes?”
Oh no.
Oh no, no, no, no.
“If you pay me three bucks,” she replies, but turns and grabs a bag that’s hanging on the wall behind her.
Joel’s hand flies to his back pocket, and he fishes out his wallet. Taking a five-dollar note, he hands it to the lady who, despite her earlier attitude, has decided to walk over and deliver Joel’s request in person.
“Now, let me direct your attention to Ellie, who is going to do something girls worldwide aspire to do.” He cracks open the bag of snakes, and pulls one out. It’s long and red. The same colour as my cheeks. “She is going to tie this snake in a knot using only her tongue.”
“I can do that,” one of the girls near the ping-pong table cries out.
But when Joel turns to look at her, she must see in him what I see in him. That crazy beautiful face, that contagious energy that you just want to be a part of.
She shrugs, and gives a half-smile. “But let’s see Ellie do it then.”
Joel beams, and turns to the majority of the crowd again. “Ellie’s a little bit nervous, so I’m going to need you all to cheer. Let’s get this going!” His voice calls out.
One person claps.
One. Person.
One person sighs in relief.
That person is me. Looks like I won’t have to do this stupid stunt after all.
“And if you all chant her name, I’ll buy everyone in this room a beer!”
“Ellie, Ellie, Ellie, Ellie ...”
It’s quiet at first, but soon people join in, and the voices rise as one.
The Twenty-One (Emerald Cove #2) Page 8
