Fake (6 page)

‘Again?'

‘Anyway, you have to help me.' Her red-painted fingernails press lightly into my wrist. ‘I need you, Kath.'

I pull my arm back, sensing trouble. ‘How?'

‘Be-me-on-Saturday.' The words come out in a gush accompanied by a wide-eyed, hopeful expression.

‘But no one is going to believe I'm you.'

‘I've worked it out. Mr Jones is on duty and he's always hung over on Saturdays. Wear a hat, scarf, some of my clothes and he'll buy it.'

‘What about the notes home and the call to your folks?' Our school has a system to make sure any trouble is reported to the student's parents. The sinking feeling in my gut tells me I'm grasping at excuses. It's hard to argue with Chay, especially knowing what her dad is likely to do if he finds out she's got another detention.

And it's not like I can afford any trouble on my own record.

She's already moved on. ‘Don't worry. I have that under control. All you have to do is turn up, sit, and study for two hours. I knew you would do it for me. Thank you so much.' Her smile turns saccharine. ‘Like I stood up for you yesterday.'

‘I haven't agreed to anything yet.'

‘You will. It's what best friends are for.' Her smile flashes a white strip between red lips. ‘I'll bring the clothes around tonight after dinner and we'll work on Aaron some more.'

I glance around to make sure no one heard her mention the fake guy. The one I'm already having second thoughts about. I spot Sebastian walking into the maths building across the courtyard. I'd know his walk anywhere even if I hadn't already seen him today. I hug his hoodie a little closer.

Maybe if Chay comes around we can cancel the whole revenge idea. But I know better than to broach the subject before I have my argument sorted in my head. She's pretty convincing.

‘You're always welcome at our place, but what about your dad?'

A shadow darkens her eyes but only momentarily. The smile replacing it is bright and wide and doesn't fool me for a second. ‘Working late.'

* * *

Another late client in the salon means I get to throw together a stir-fry for dinner without any heavy non-comments from Mum about the envelope or Joel or her death-blog friend Colin.

I leave her a bowl of honey soy chicken to be reheated later and eat while trying to finish my English assignment. I know once Chay arrives study won't be on the agenda. Having never actually seen her crack open a book, I figure she's either a secret genius or scrapes through with whatever she can manage at school before the morning bell.

By the time she dumps a pile of bags on my favourite rug I've done enough to have the rest of the evening off. Mum is pretty cool with Chay coming around during the week as long as I keep my grades up. She met Chay's dad once. Only once in all these years of friendship but it was enough.

‘What's with needing …' I make a show of counting ‘seven bags for me to be you for one morning?'

She twirls in front of my mirror, having changed the jumpsuit for a long gypsy dress with a plunging neckline. ‘You think style like this just happens?'

‘Do you really want me to answer that?'

Our polar different wardrobes have been a standing joke between us since we hit high school and Chay discovered the effects of revealing clothes both on her male classmates and in pissing off her father. A double win.

She doesn't wait for an answer, instead itemising the bags. ‘Outfits one, two and three are here. Then we have the shoes and then of course there are the accessories.'

‘Of course.'

The glittering silver scarf she throws at my head flutters harmlessly over my toes. ‘The hair is the tricky part. The forecast is for a cold morning so I've gone with hats and scarves to cover you up.' Her eyes sparkle. ‘And my signature red lipstick.'

‘I have my own make-up.'

‘And it's great … for you.'

I ignore the jibe and look through the bags. I lift out a miniskirt that's more like the width of a belt. ‘Really?'

As if I wasn't worried enough about fooling the teacher, I'm also going to be showing more leg than I do at the beach.

‘At least he won't be looking at your face,' she says with a smirk.

‘Great.' I stuff it back in the bag. I bet the rest is along the same lines.

Chay has moved on already, flicking open my laptop. ‘Mind if I log in?'

She brings up Aaron Winter's personal page before I finish my nod and I scoot across the rug to look over her shoulder. He is rather hot, with a mature look unmatched by any of the boys at school, except maybe Sebastian.

I blink. ‘No freaking way. Three hundred friends already?'

‘I made a few more friend requests this morning.'

She must have been busy. ‘He has more friends than me.'

Not that it's hard. I tend to only add people I've met in real life and since I've lived in this tiny town since I was eight the numbers aren't huge. There's a few out-of-towners – mostly people I've met on our antiques trips – but nothing like this. I skim over his wall. There are already dozens of posts.

She scrolls down. ‘Look at this.' One of the girls from school has left a message reminding him he promised to call after last weekend's gig. ‘He ripped it up on stage Saturday night apparently.'

Her giggle is infectious. I shake my head. ‘I can't believe it. People talking about a band that doesn't exist.'

She grips my fingers. ‘But they do. I knew I'd heard the name Fake somewhere. It's a thrash group that play in the city sometimes.' Excitement shines from her eyes. ‘Lana's next.'

I move to my bed, absently running my fingers along the edge of my blanket. I can't quite meet her eyes. ‘I don't know.'

‘Don't tell me you're wimping out?'

Her scathing tone is hard to ignore but the day at school wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I know I won't be able to carry Sebastian's hoodie with me all the time but I think people are already forgetting. And from the look in his eyes in class, Joel seems genuinely sorry about the way it all happened.

‘I don't see the point.' My teeth clamp my lower lip as I try to gauge just how pissed at me she is.

She stands. Her hands settle on her slender hips. ‘Grow some balls, Kath.'

‘What?'

‘Toughen up. Stop being a victim.' Her voice rises. ‘Nine years I've known you and you always just let life treat you like crap. This is your chance to get one back.' She leans down over the laptop again and her fingers fly across the keys. ‘Read this.'

I don't move from the bed so she brings across and plunks it in front of me.

‘Read this,' she repeats.

It's Lana's page and I can't escape looking at it.

It … The hoodie … Sebastian's hoodie. Then below.

Hot and then cold washes over me and I hate that my body is a stereotype. I can't even feel upset with originality. I push back the anger rising to flood my vision and my senses.

‘No. She's probably not even talking about me.'

Chay shakes her head. ‘Maybe, but look below.'

There are a few comments on her post. Two arguing for her guess and one against. None make it clear what she's talking about until …

It's typically sweet and this time when my eye stings it's not the allergy from the cucumber. Joel's pity hurts more than Lana's bitchiness. He liked me, he did. I just wasn't enough for him to keep interested in when someone like Lana came along. Someone special.

Chay turns the computer back around and strokes the keys.

When she points it back my way it's back to the handsome, popular Aaron and a friend request to Lana Elliot. ‘It's up to you.'

I squeeze my eyes shut so I don't have to read the screen. I hate, hate, hate decisions.

Okay, think.

Chances are the whole plan will fizzle out, but if it doesn't Lana will discover what it's like to be me: to be not good enough for someone you like. Maybe then she'll hesitate before screwing someone else over. And maybe then the dark hollow feeling deep inside me will go away.

This is not about Joel anymore. He's just a tool for Lana to spread hurt. I open my eyes. ‘Fine.'

‘Fine?'

I reach out. Take a deep breath. Click the button. ‘Fine.'

Chay's grin is triumphant.

I feel a little sick. What will I do if she accepts?

CHAPTER

6

By Saturday morning I'm tired of checking to see whether Lana has accepted Aaron's friend request. I know she's been online twice from her updated wall posts – yep, she friended me along with pretty much the rest of the school when she first arrived. Now I'm lost in the hundreds.

I would have thought she might delete me after the Joel thing but she's probably forgotten. Or she's enjoying sharing the sickly sweet notes they write each other.

Chay is confident she'll add Aaron, but I'm starting to think I worried about the big revenge plan all for nothing.

I shower while I'm waiting for my computer to warm up. Today is Chay's detention and I'm no closer to working out which of her outfits I should wear. Every time I think of walking into the library and getting marked off as my friend, the dread in my belly expands another degree. I reckon by nine I'll be a walking stress ball.

The hot water on my skin does nothing to ease the tight muscles of my shoulders but at least it delays my clothing decision. Soon my skin is wrinkled and I can't put it off any longer. I stand in the middle of my room in only my underwear and examine the clothes spread out on my bed. The shower hasn't helped make any of them cover more skin.

There's a knock on my door and it opens instantly.

‘Mum.'

She makes a show of averting her eyes, her smile amused, as I scramble for my dressing gown.

‘Okay, you can look now.'

‘I've changed your nappies,' she reminds me for the bajillionth time.

‘Really? And here I was thinking I arrived from space, fully toilet trained.'

My sarcasm doesn't dampen her mood. ‘I've left a pasta bake in the fridge. Twenty minutes in the oven should be fine.' Her smile widens. ‘Don't wait for me.'

It's then I notice she's wearing her favourite jeans and prized suede jacket. And her make-up isn't of the staying home variety. It's all soft colours with a hint of gold glitter on her eyelids.

‘Where are you going?' I glance at the clock even though I'm fully aware it's not even eight. ‘It's barely dawn. And how come you might not be home tonight?'

I can't control the whine in my question. It's great that she trusts me home alone but it's unusual for her to disappear for a whole day. It's not as though she doesn't have her own life. She casually dated Steve Sullivan, the town dentist, for three years. They broke up four months ago and she didn't even cry.

But usually she gives me some warning. And usually she doesn't have excited anticipation radiating from her pores.

I pull my navy towelling dressing gown tighter around my body, instinctively preparing myself for whatever she's about to say. She seems to be debating how much to reveal, her eyes distant and mouth uncertain. That only increases the dread inside me.

Here I've been worrying how I'm going to explain leaving the house in Chay's clothes and where I'm going, and she's not even going to be around to notice.

‘I'm having lunch with a friend in the city,' she eventually says to a point over my shoulder.

It's a non-answer if ever I heard one, but I'm too wimpy to call her on it. We've circled each other this week like cruise liners sharing a port. Unable to come too close, lest we gather too much momentum and crash. Wednesday night she left the envelope in the hallway just outside my door.

It's sat there ever since. Neither of us has mentioned it.

‘Drive safe,' I say in my best imitation of her lecture voice.

She ignores everything I'm not saying. ‘I will. And I'll have my mobile if you need anything.'

‘Yeah.'

I'm already turning away. I don't want her to think I care that she's keeping secrets.

She stands in the doorway for another minute before stepping out into the hallway and closing it behind her. The clip of her boots on the floor mark her journey down the stairs.

I move to the window and watch her walk out into the drive.

As usual Mum deviates on her way to her car to inspect the struggling miniature lime tree we planted just after we moved in, pausing to peer between the green branches.

It's our standing joke. She's convinced with the right TLC it will one day bear fruit and has promised to make lime pie when it does. I believe we own the only lime leaf tree in the country.

A moment later Mum's hatchback reverses out the short drive at the back of the salon. Her hand lifts in farewell as she sees me watching from the window. I flirt with childishly ignoring the gesture but then lift mine in return.

She usually works on a Saturday morning. Normally I would have noticed if she'd crossed the morning off in her appointment book, but I haven't exactly hung out down there this week.

As I turn away, the ding of my computer tells me I have an email. I scan my inbox. Mostly spam and one reminder about a test next week. Before I shut the laptop down ready to head to school, another update arrives.

Lana has accepted Aaron's friend request.

Moments later there's a text from Chay.

I hadn't got that far. I can't believe this is working so well already. I skim the page and find her message. Wow, just wow. She's practically gushing. You wouldn't know the girl has a boyfriend. I rest my fingers on the keys, debating how to respond, when a reply comes up from Aaron on his wall.