Faking Sweet (21 page)

I didn't have butterflies in my stomach. That wasn't quite the right description. It was more like pterodactyls were flapping away in there. As the day progressed they got more and more active.

The morning was spent alternating between working on my space and sitting on the loo. At least that stopped me looking at the clock every half second.

Around lunchtime Jess telephoned with some quotes and proverbs Scott and her had found.

‘You have to put this one on. Scott found it.' Jess read slowly and I typed. ‘“You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you cannot fool all of the people all of the time.”'

‘I like it,' I said.

‘Scott thought you would.'

My tummy jumped.

‘What do you think of this one?' I asked. It was a Chinese proverb I'd come across on a Net search. ‘“A bad word whispered will echo a hundred miles.”'

‘That's cool,' Jess said.

‘There's this one too, but it might give us away. “It is double pleasure to deceive the deceiver.”'

‘Ah, I just got goose bumps,' Jess gasped. ‘Hey, what did you put down for your “loves”?'

‘Chocolate, thunderstorms,
The OC
, Coldplay …' I rattled off the list until I came to a particular one that made me stumble. ‘… Scott.'

‘That's sounds so cute,' Jess giggled.

‘Well, wasn't I meant to put him on?'

‘Yeah,' Jess replied. ‘Do you … mean it?'

‘Huh?' She was confusing me. Was she asking me did I
mean it
,
mean it
?

‘Do you like Scott, for real?' Jess was serious. ‘You can tell me.'

No you can't, my head warned. Not unless you want the entire universe to know in the next sixty seconds.

‘Scott's not really my type.' This was the most humungous, ginormous fib I had ever wrapped my lips around. And I'd just told it for the second time. Scott was totally, utterly and completely my type. ‘He's a great guy though. As a friend, that is.'

 

Mum dropped me off at the station at 5.45 pm. Scott and Jess weren't there, so Mum made me wait in the car with her until they arrived.

‘I don't want you hanging around on the station on your own,' she nagged.

‘Well, as soon as I see them I'm going,' I told her. ‘I'm not doing “this is my mother” introductions. Get it?'

‘Holly, calm down. Anyway I've already met Jess. Scott's the only one I don't know …'

‘That's right,' I interrupted. ‘And you're not going to know him either.'

‘What are you so uptight about?'

‘Nothing,' I snapped. I was trying really hard to be calm but I was so nervous, and Mum's fussing wasn't helping.

‘You look nice,' Mum said. ‘Where's the top from?'

‘A girl from school lent it to me.'

‘Who?'

‘Saskia.'

‘Oh,' Mum nodded. ‘I'm not saying black doesn't suit you, but that lovely cream blouse with the …'

‘Mum, I'm going to the movies. Not church.' I slumped down into the seat. Why wouldn't my mother keep her snout out of my business? Like she knew about fashion!

‘Here they are,' Mum announced.

I sat up straight to see Scott and Jess coming down the road. I snuck a quick glimpse in the side mirror. My foundation was perfectly applied. It should've been. I'd wiped it off three times before I got the ratio of vegetable oil to foundation right. The bun was sitting perfectly on my head with the right amount of loose hair falling over my forehead. The best thing, though, was that the padded bra Jess had lent me had Saskia's black top poking out in all the right places.

‘Ooh, Scott's jeans look like they're about to fall down,' Mum chuckled.

‘That's the fashion,' I groaned. ‘Drive off please.'

‘Holly?' Mum leaned out the window. ‘Try and have a good time.'

I pasted a smile on my face. I had to resort to a fake, 'cause my nerves were pulling down the corners of my mouth.

‘What did you reckon?' Scott asked as we walked out of the movies two hours later. ‘Give it a mark out of ten.'

To be honest, Scott, I couldn't even tell you what the film was about. I was so totally and utterly blissed out sitting next to you that it could have been a fuzzy screen for a hundred and twenty minutes and I wouldn't have noticed.

‘Not sure,' I shrugged. ‘What would you give it?'

‘Nine and a half,' he said.

‘It was that good, was it?'

‘Well, what do
you
reckon?'

‘A nine,' I cringed.

‘Photo time,' Jess called. ‘Over here, you two.'

I followed Scott through the circle of ‘its' and their boyfriends, through the movie foyer and into Game Galaxy. I felt like a movie star walking through a crowd of fans. I could feel their eyes on me, and could hear whispers of: ‘aren't they cute' and ‘they look so good together'.

‘Come on, Hol.' Scott leaned against a pinball machine and put his arms around my waist. ‘You okay?'

I tried to answer but all I could manage was a bleat that sounded like a sick lamb. Scott chuckled and pulled me closer.

‘Smile,' Jess said, as the flash went off. She checked the picture. ‘No good. Holly looks too serious.' The flash went off again.

‘Relax,' Scott whispered to me.

Relax! How can I relax when you have your arms around me and twenty pairs of eyes are staring?

‘Stay there. Don't move,' Jess instructed. ‘I want to do a couple more shots.'

For ages, Scott and I cuddled up like real boyfriend and girlfriend while Jess took our photo over and over again. But that wasn't my favourite bit. What I loved the most was that not once did Scott let go of me. Not when Jess stuffed up the picture for the tenth time. Not when I got a serious attack of the nervous giggles. Not even when I accidentally did a Coca-Cola burp and we both burst out laughing. His arms stayed wrapped around me.

In the racing-car machine opposite us were Jase and Saskia. They were in their favourite position: draped over each other, busy swapping saliva. At first it was embarrassing to watch them. Now it was just off.

‘Move.' Jess almost pushed Saskia off Jase's lap. After all, she was only human. Seeing them like that must've been killing her. ‘It's Scott and Holly's turn in the car.'

A bubble of panic popped in my throat. Jess didn't expect Scott and me to launch into a sloppy tongue sambo, did she? It was fine doing pretend hugs and cuddles, but if Scott ever kissed me I wanted it to be for real.

While Isabelle and Jess were busy shooing the lovebirds out of the car seat, Scott whispered, ‘Let's go and get an ice-cream.'

‘But what about …' I started.

‘C'mon.'

We sat on the stairs outside the movies and ate our cones. Finally, just the two of us. At last I felt like I could breathe.

‘Good to get out of there,' Scott said, leaning on one elbow looking like a complete hottie. ‘How many photos do you reckon Jess took?'

‘Heaps.'

‘Can't wait to see them.'

‘Yeah,' I agreed.

Scott's face started to loom towards me. Now ten thousand bubbles of panic were popping all over me. Suddenly he stopped and took a big sniff.

‘Hol. You smell of salad dressing or something.'

I turned and looked at him, the rising giggle blowing out my cheeks.

‘It's … eau de vegetable oil.'

‘Eau de vegetable oil?'

We rolled around on the stairs, our shoulders crashing into each other, killing ourselves, as I explained Calypso's foundation technique and how I didn't have any moisturiser.

While the outside of me talked, the inside of me was going bananas. ‘What are you doing, Holly Hankinson? You are sitting with the most gorgeous boy in Sydney, telling him you've put vegetable oil on your face! He already thinks you're a complete weirdo. In fact, he thinks you've got balls. Now he's going to think …' But deep down I knew it didn't matter. Almost from the very beginning it had been easy with Scott.

‘Oh, Hol.' He even had to wipe tears from his eyes. ‘You're a classic. If anyone else told me that I'd think they were mad.'

‘You don't think I'm mad?'

‘No. I think you're …' I waited for his answer. ‘You're not as loud as those other girls, like Saskia and Isabelle; they're always screaming. And Hol, you don't need to be like them and wear that crap on your face. You look fine without it.'

‘Oh?' I stared down at the atrocious paint job I'd done on my toenails, wishing I could run to the bathroom and scrub.

When finally I could look up, I saw that Scott was smiling straight at me. I almost stopped breathing.

When Jess rang on Sunday morning to say ice-skating was off 'cause Scott had to play footy for a team that was short of players, I nearly threw myself to the ground. Noooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

‘He says he's really sorry.'

‘Oh, that's okay.' I gulped. It felt like I'd just swallowed a rock, and it was sitting heavy in my stomach.

‘Anyway, the photos are fantastic,' Jess continued. ‘I'm emailing them to you now. Shame Scott's not your type 'cause you two look so good together.'

‘Oh?'

‘There's a gorgeous one of you guys looking like you're having a private little giggle,' Jess told me. ‘You should've got those shorts in every colour. You look seriously hot in them.'

‘Yeah?' I hit the send/receive key. Ice-skating was off, but I had photos to stare at. That was better than nothing.

‘Did you have a good night?' Jess asked.

‘Did you?' What I really wanted to ask was, ‘Did Scott?'

The ‘receiving mail' sign flashed.

‘I tried to,' Jess answered. ‘I really did, but it was a bit hard with Saskia and Jase …'

Somewhere in the distance I could hear Jess rabbiting on. While right in front of my eyes Calypso's email was screaming.

‘… when they're so, so, what's the word for it?'

‘I, I've got to go,' I stammered. ‘My dad … needs, needs the phone.'

I read Calypso's email six times. I had to be sure my eyes were giving my brain the right information. There had to be some kind of loose wire in the upstairs compartment of that girl's head, 'cause how could she really believe that I would swallow the crap she was trying to shovel by the bucket load?

I didn't answer the lying, scheming, two-faced, unbalanced one's email, 'cause I didn't want to piss her off – yet.

When my space was perfect; when every quote and photo was in its proper position, I would quietly and calmly sign on to MSN. Then hopefully I'd hear Calypso's screams all the way from Melbourne.

‘Calypso is evil. Calypso deserves to fall.' I started to sing our little song.

‘Calypso is a liar. Calypso deserves to fall. And who is going to bring her down? Who is going to make her fall? I, Holly Hankinson, am going to bring Calypso down because I am Jess's best friend now.'