“I’m so sorry,” Mum says. “Really I am. I did it three times but I guess I forgot after that.”
“Too many things to think about?” I say. The sarcasm escapes my mouth in a surprising burst. I’m not normally sarcastic. Why start now?
To my surprise, Mum looks slightly guilty. “I guess so.”
“Like what?” I’m genuinely curious. The sarcasm is gone.
“Oh, just stuff,” she says. “People from work.” She turns to me, her face suddenly cheery. “Have you got all your things ready for school tomorrow?”
A shiver goes through my stomach. I catch it and push it into a small space. Deal with that later. “I think so. I’ll check my shoes and everything.” A thought occurs to me. “And I’ll have to take my notes on our Science project. Alvin and the other guys will want to get going on it.”
Later I text Liam.
Hey, did you have good holidays? I’ll have to tell you about my mountain adventure. Has anyone heard from Gabby? Can’t wait to see you. Jaz.
I spell out xxx at the end of my name, look at it and then for some reason that I can’t understand, go back and delete it before I press Send.
There’s an answer soon. Short and simple.
See you tomozz! Xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx
I put the phone down and away.
Later that night the bad dreams come back. I’m followed by seven foot men with long limbs, leather faces and machetes in their hands. Terrified, I try to run but my feet are stuck and I have to haul myself along with my arms to move.
I wake early, before dawn, scared and tired. But mostly annoyed.
Really? Still? I think. How long is this going to go on for?
Going back to sleep is risky. I don’t know what kind of monster will be waiting to ambush me. But staying awake will just make me worry about school. Instead I pull out my journal, sadly ignored at Grandma’s place, and write. I fill page after page with words and pictures; descriptions of places, food, people, and, of course, bush tracks and rocks and crazy-vicious lightning bolts.
It helps. When Mum asks how I slept I can say, “I’m okay,” instead of, “Sleep? Ha! I need another whole night of it to recover.” And then I’m eating and getting dressed and on the bus and pulling up to school, and there, waiting for me like usual, is Liam.
I see him before he sees me. The curl of his hair and the way his shirt hangs on his shoulders make me smile and I’m bounding down the steps and out of the door before he turns around.
“Hi!” I say, and I hug him hard and tight. Maybe he’s surprised, or not expecting me because it takes him almost a full second to hug me back. He’s stiff; tense, like he wasn’t expecting this, but then his arms come out and he pats me on the back.
“Hey.” He smiles, but there’s something in his eyes.
“You okay?” I say, stepping back. “Have a good holiday?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, sure.”
“But really,” I say again, eyebrows in a furrow. “You okay?”
There’s a flash of annoyance. “Course I am.”
“It’s just you seem…”
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” he says. “I’m just annoyed you keep asking.”
I go quiet. “Okay. Sorry.”
We walk for a bit and then he asks. “Did you miss me?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Of course.”
He looks to the side. “You didn’t message me much.”
Immediately I feel guilty. “I’m really sorry, Liam. Honestly, with Grandma, we were like out every day and doing things, and then she had this really bad accident when we were on a hike and I had to call the ambulance and the emergency services and stuff and…”
He hardly seems to listen. “You just could have, though.”
A hot feeling spreads from my chest to my forehead and my lungs get tight. I’m sure I’m turning red. “I’m really sorry. I am. Now I feel really bad.”
He looks at me, pouts and then shrugs his shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m kind of joking. I’m not serious.”
I breathe again and he puts his arm around me. “I missed you heaps,” he says in a low voice. “I didn’t know what to do without you.” My heart skips a beat and the scared feelings disappear.
“So. I forgot to ask. Do you know if anyone heard from Gabby?” I say. “She hasn’t answered her phone all holidays.”
“Not me,” he says. “But maybe the others.”
At our table Erin, Olivia and Caitlin are hugging each other. They stop to hug me and air kiss my cheeks. It’s something I’ve learned to get used to in the last few months. Sometimes we even hug when we’re going off to different classes. To me it’s weird. We’re only going to be apart for like, 50 minutes. But since they started doing it I have too.
“Hey, you guys,” I say. “Do anything exciting?”
Erin screws up her mouth. “My parents refuse to do anything fun. We just stayed home the whole time. Like, so boring.”
Olivia and Caitlin give each other quick looks.
“Beach for three days,” says Olivia, and Caitlin continues, “and then home.” They take deep breaths at exactly the same time before the words rush out of their mouths in unison: “And we went to Angela’s party.”
Angela.
I forgot about Angela.
But she hasn’t forgotten about me. She’s walking over to the table with her friends like she owns the space, arms outstretched and a face like she’s seeing her oldest, bestest friend.
“Liam!” she calls, and comes right up to him for a hug. I watch. It’s a long one. Longer than necessary? My eyes narrow.
“So good to see you,” she says, and her head tips back and to the side with a swish of ponytail. “Can’t believe it’s only been a week. Seems like forever.” She pulls herself away and kisses everyone else.
Everyone except me.
I’m waiting for a hug, or at least a smile, just because she’s given one to everyone else, but there’s nothing. It’s like she hasn’t even seen me. Like I’m not even standing here.
“Hey, Angela,” I say. My heart is beating but I feel brave. Almost like I felt when I rang for the ambulance. I’m sturdy inside, steadfast. Like a rock. I just want to see how she’s going to react; what it’s going to be between us.
I know she hears me because there’s a flick of something across her face but she ignores me completely. Another rush of courage surges from my feet up to my heart.
“Hey, Angela.” I say it again. This time louder.
There’s no mistaking it now. Angela is snubbing me. Her eyes go to my face and then deliberately move past me to focus on the twins. “Hey, Caitivia,” she says and giggles. “I’m going to call you that now because you were so cute at the party.” She turns to the girls around her. “Did you see them? They even sipped their drinks at the same time. Gorgeous.”
Caitlin and Olivia smile nervously and join in the laughter. Then they both bend down at the same time to adjust their shoes, realise what they’re doing and stand up again, embarrassed. The laughter gets louder and their faces go red.
“Oh, cute. You guys are blushing,” says Angela. Her smile looks as genuine as it can possibly be and in that exact second I hate her with all my heart. Why couldn’t she have taken a hint from Gabby and stayed away from me after she got slapped? Where is Gabby, anyway?
Everyone’s gathered around Angela, including Liam for some reason. No one’s even talking to me so I grab my phone out of my bag, find Gabby’s number and dial it. Again. Just in case. Maybe she’s walking into school right now. Maybe she’ll pick it up and tell me she’ll be back when her suspension is over. Maybe she’ll explain that she dropped her phone in the bath and she’s been drying it out for two weeks. In rice. Just like she told me to do once.
I wait for the little ‘brrr brrr’ noises I’m so used to hearing but they don’t come on. Instead, I can’t believe my ears. There’s a computer-generated woman’s voice on the other end.
‘This number has
been changed or is no longer in service. Please check the number and dial again. Click. Beep, beep beep.’
I look at it, puzzled. Did I really dial it wrong? I know Gabby’s number, not only in my head but in my fingers too. I do it again, just in case.
But it’s the same.
‘This number has been changed or is no longer in service. Please check…’
I hang up before it cuts me off.
The bell goes for class and Gabby still doesn’t turn up. I’m confused. No one has seen her, and now I can’t even leave her a message. I have no idea what is going on.
School happens. Classes happen. I go here, I go there, I do maths, I sit through history, I eat my recess and lunch and I disappear to the bathrooms so I don’t have to see Angela flirting with Liam.
Last period is drama and a new teacher walks in. “I’m Mrs Brown,” she says. “I’m filling in for Miss Fraser. She’s away this term on long service leave.” My heart sinks. The one person I could have talked to about Gabby, or even about Angela; the one person who would understand, isn’t here.
And then I get a note across my desk.
It’s from Caitlin, who’s trying, harder than I’ve ever seen, to look innocent. She’s working so hard that she actually looks guilty. Next to her, Olivia is on full alert, checking around her like a meerkat I saw at the zoo once. They stand on guard all day, looking for danger.
I’m curious and open the note.
What I read sends my face pale. Makes my breath come short and sharp.
We didn’t want to tell you but we thought you should know. At the party Liam and Angela were kissing. A lot.
I push the note away from me and look down at the desk, blinking hard. Trying to compose myself. I have to stay calm; have to find out the facts so I know what I’m dealing with.
Did you see it? I push the note back across the desk. Caitlin takes it, trying hard to be unnoticed.
We both did. We’re so sorry, Jaz.
I screw it up tiny and clench my fist around it. I can feel the paper crushing and bending; dying underneath my fingers. This can’t be true. Liam is cheating on me? With Angela? It’s not possible. He told me he likes me. That he’d be there for me, no matter what.
And then something gross rises up in my throat that I have to swallow down. If it is true, and Liam is leaving me and Angela has won, then I’m alone again.
At least for now. At least until Gabby gets back.
Chapter 22
There’s no way I’m going to talk to Liam right now. I’d rather miss the bus and walk home than see his blue eyes try to pretend that everything is okay.
Because it is not okay.
I am mad. Super mad. I’m zipping my pencil case like it’s a wrestling match, throwing my bag, and romper stomping with feet that are itching to kick rocks. Heavy rocks.
I head out towards the other gate, the one where the buses don’t pull up. It’s on a path past the school office. When I see the door my mouth goes stiff. If no one will tell me where Gabby is, I’ll just go and find out myself.
The glass doors are heavy but today I can push them so they fly briskly apart. I enter in a whoosh and let them go behind me. I take in a breath and let it out through my nostrils like steam from a kettle.
“What do you need, dear?” says the woman at the desk. She looks like she’s ready to go home for the day. “Did you forget a note or something?”
I walk right up to the counter. “I just want to know how long Gabby is going to be away for,” I say firmly. “Gabby Smeeton. She’s in 8D.”
“Is she sick?” asks the woman. “There’s no way I can know that.”
“No,” I say. “She got suspended last term. I want to know when she’s coming back.”
The woman raises her eyebrows and turns to her computer. She taps on the keyboard a few times.
“Smee… what?” she asks, so I spell Gabby’s surname out. She looks at the screen and taps a little more.
“That’s odd,” she says, under her breath, but I can lipread. Her face comes up from the keyboard. “I can’t actually tell you anything,” she says, and shakes her head slightly.
“Why not?” I ask. “It’s not a secret how long other people get suspended for.”
“It’s not that,” she says. And then she just stands there and looks at me, like ‘could you go now?’ I stare back at her, puzzled. And then I burst into tears. Angry drops of acid that sizzle out of my eyes and burn my cheeks.
Mrs ‘I Can’t Tell You Anything’ narrows her eyes. I can see it through the hot mist around my face. “Are you alright?”
I stamp my foot. “No. I am not alright. I just want to find out where my best friend is and why she won’t answer her phone and you say there’s nothing you can tell me.” The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them and then I’m deflated, embarrassed and out of energy, all in one hit. I turn to go. “Sorry.”
There’s a bang and a small rush of air behind me and when I turn, the woman is coming from behind the counter into the office foyer, right up to me. “Do you have to catch a bus?” she asks, looking at her watch.
“No,” I sniffle. “I’m going to walk today.”
“Come and sit down for a minute,” she says, guiding me to an uncomfortable beige, vinyl chair. I allow myself to fall into the seat. Tears are still dropping out of my eyes and, honestly, I can’t be bothered to stop them.
The woman sits herself down facing me and leans forward. “Bad day?”
I nod. There’s nothing to say.
“Is this Gabby girl your good friend?” she asks.
Again, I nod. “Best friend.”
“And she didn’t talk to you about anything unusual before the holidays?”
I shake my head. “No.”
She sits up straight, takes a deep breath in and twists her face. “Okay. Because of privacy laws I can’t actually tell you where Gabby is. But I can tell you this. I can only give out information about students who are enrolled at this school.”
I look at her blankly.
“Do you understand me? I can’t give you any information about Gabby. I can only give you information about students who are enrolled here.”
My eyes go big. There’s a teeny crack of light into my brain. It slowly gets wider. “You mean she’s not…” I look at the woman. “Not enrolled here anymore?”
She repeats it again. “I can only give you infomation about students who are actually at this school.”
My mouth drops open. Gabby is not at this school any more. Gabby is not enrolled. Gabby has ignored all my messages. Gabby has changed her phone number.
In a flash of light, it all becomes clear. Gabby is not here. She’s not coming back.
And I do not have a best friend any more.
“Thanks,” I say, and stand up so fast I nearly make myself dizzy. I swallow a few times. “Can I have a drink?” The woman points to a bubbler down the hall and I take shaky steps towards it.
“You okay?” she asks and I nod. But I’m not. And I don’t know how long it will be before I am.
The walk home is long but I’m stuck inside my brain, whirling around in my own body. Foot follows hollow foot, hands swing like a robot. I walk past the park with the plum blossom tree and look up to see the pink flowers but they’ve gone; disappeared into a brown, sludgy mess of rotting petals, smeared all over the grass.
Liam’s cheated, Gabby’s gone. Liam’s cheated, Gabby’s gone.
The words are engraved on a hamster wheel in my head and there’s a very, very angry hamster running around on it.
A strange car is parked out the front of our house and I look at it for a hard second before I turn my head stiffly towards the front door and march up the steps.
The door is open.
Funny, I think. Mum’s home early. But then I remember that I’ve walked and actually, I’m late.
“Mum?” I yell as I stomp down the hall. It’s cool and dark but there’s sunshine creeping out from under th
e kitchen door. At last, I think. Food. Drink. Something to make it better. I throw open the kitchen door, flooding myself with light, my eyes blinking in the brightness, and there, in front of me, is the most extraordinary sight. It’s something I’ve never, ever, seen in this kitchen before.
It’s my mum, sitting down, drinking tea with someone else.
A man.
“Mum?”
“Hi, sweetie,” says Mum. She sounds normal on the outside but there’s a something underneath. A something that tells me she’s tense.
“Hi,” I say. I look at her. And him. His blue shirt, his loosened tie, his beard. The way he’s arranged his plate in front of him to say I’m comfortable here; the way their mugs are nearly touching.
I edge around the walls towards the fridge. “Sandwich,” I say. “Homework.”
Mum stands up. She smiles, big and wide. Again, normal, but not normal. “Why don’t you have a seat. You’re hot. I’ll get you a drink and make you a sandwich.”
“I’m okay,” I say, eyes twitching. Now I’m the meerkat. But she insists.
“No, sit down. And say hello to Geoff.”
Geoff (at least I presume that Beard Guy is Geoff; there are no other potential Geoffs in the room) lifts his hand in a quick wave-salute thing. “Hey.”
His voice is man-deep and it echoes in a way I haven’t heard before in this room.
“Hi,” I say. I’m wary but I sit. There’s not really a choice. “Jazmine,” I say.
“Yep. Your mum’s told me about you.”
I raise my eyebrows and look over at the fridge. Mum has her head down, chopping salad and buttering bread. Avoiding me. Funny. She didn’t tell me about you, is what I want to say but I hold it in and tell the angry hamsters to take a tiny break.
“You’re in, what, Year 9?” says Geoff. He seems nervous too.
“No. Year 8.” I take a deep breath, lift my chin and look at him square in the face.
“Do you drink tea?” he says, gesturing to the pot in front of him.
Invincible (Invisible 2) Page 13
