Faking Sweet (23 page)

The hour-and-a-half three-way chat I'd had with Jess and Scott had travelled through St Clemmie's. Almost every Year 9 girl, and I'm talking ‘it' and non ‘it' girls, came up and congratulated me. I didn't realise how hated Calypso really was. I'd only used the line, ‘Everyone at St Clemmie's hates you', because it sounded good. Nadene didn't shake my hand, neither did Michelle. Maybe they'd quietly enjoyed what Calypso had done to Jess.

At lunchtime Jess, Saskia and I slipped away and found a secret spot so Jess could have a bit of a cry.

‘Why is Calypso still saying that stuff about me? When's it going to stop?' Saskia and I rubbed Jess's back and patted her shoulder. ‘I'm so over it,' she sobbed. ‘I, I just can't deal with it any more.'

‘You won't have to,' Saskia soothed. ‘Holly's dealt with it. That's the end of Calypso now.'

Jess took my hand and squeezed it. ‘Thanks, Hol. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't come to St Clemmie's.'

I gazed at my lap so I could hide the big swallow I was about to do.

‘You've been such a good friend to me. And to Scott,' she said.

Jess squeezed my hand again. I looked up at her and smiled. Mascara tears were smeared down her cheeks and her lips were swollen from chewing them. Still, Jess Flynn was the prettiest girl in Year 9.

‘Oh Hol, I almost forgot.' Jess wiped her nose on her wrist. ‘There's an ice-skating disco on Thursday night. Scott's trying to get tickets.'

‘Really?'

‘Will your mum let you out on a Thursday night with exams and all?'

‘Yeah.' I'd tie my mother up and escape if I had to.

‘It only goes from five till eight,' Saskia explained. ‘It's pretty daggy. It's an under-18s thing, but we always have a good time, don't we, Jess?'

‘It's dress-up,' Jess told me. ‘This one's …?'

‘Seventies,' Saskia reminded. ‘Jase and I are going as hippies.'

Saskia turned around to look at something and Jess quickly mouthed to me, ‘Come over tomorrow.'

I nodded.

Jess checked Saskia's back was still turned then added, ‘We'll work out what we're going to wear.'

I gave her the thumbs up.

Life was almost perfect, except for the pit in the bottom of my guts that was heavy with guilt.

After school, Jess and I were lying on her bedroom floor flicking through magazines.

‘Have you done any study for English?' Jess asked me.

‘Not yet,' I answered. ‘Have you?'

‘I finished reading
Much Ado about Nothing
last night.'

I sat up. ‘What happens at the end?'

‘It's all happily ever after. Hero and Claudio get married. So do –'

‘What about Don John?' I closed my magazine. ‘What happens to him?'

‘He's captured at the very, very end.'

‘That's it?' What a shame he wasn't chopped up into little pieces.

‘That's it,' Jess shrugged. ‘Hey Hol, here's a good hairstyle you could wear tomorrow night.'

‘Show us.' I studied the photo of a model I could never hope to look even vaguely like. ‘My hair won't go dead straight like that.'

‘Have you ever heard of a straightening iron?'

‘I've never used one,' I replied.

Jess got up and stretched. ‘They're easy to use,' she yawned. ‘Hang on. I need to do a wee.'

‘Okay.'

At the doorway Jess stopped and turned. ‘Hey, I think I've still got Aunty Pat's straightening iron. It's an older one than Saskia's but I reckon it's heaps better.'

‘I'll give it a go.' Cool. I'd never straightened my hair before. I wondered if Jess would let me take it home and practise.

‘I think it's in a drawer.' Jess wandered down the hall. ‘Have a look in the top left-hand one,' she called back.

The top left-hand drawer was so stuffed with junk I couldn't see how a straightening iron could fit in there. I checked the right-hand one but that just had undies, bras and a few pads.

The next drawer was longer and took two hands and a bit of muscle power to open. I sifted through t-shirts and belts until my hand felt something hard at the very back. I began to pull it out before realising it was a book.

I pushed the clothes away and saw the cover. It was a diary. The words D
EAR
M
E
were written on the front.

Put it back! Put it back! I glanced up at the doorway as I piled the clothes back on top. I'd die if Jess knew I'd seen it. I wasn't a snoop. I would never ever look at someone else's diary. I was so paranoid about my mother doing that to me that I didn't even keep one.

I tried to shove the book to the back of the drawer but my fingers kept getting caught in the buckle of a belt. I wrestled my hand free. Then I saw what the buckle was attached to. I froze.

‘No!' I yelped. ‘It can't be.' I took it out of the drawer. ‘No. No!'

It was like my heart was sliding to my feet.

I held it up: a black-and-white singlet with a belt attached to the back straps. It even had the Zubi tag hanging off it.

Suddenly two hands appeared over my shoulder and snatched it.

‘I said the top left-hand one.' With a single push of the knee Jess slammed the long drawer closed.

I went to speak but I couldn't move my jaw. Jess was still standing behind me. I could her short panting breaths. The buckle of the singlet was just touching my elbow.

‘Jess?'

Silence.

‘Jess?'

Her footsteps padded across the room. Then the springs of her mattress wobbled. I turned around. Jess was sitting on her bed, crying.

‘Jess?'

She shook her head and held up her hand to stop me from going to her.

‘Okay.'

Silence.

‘You know I wasn't looking for it,' I said.

She nodded then whispered, ‘No one knows.'

‘I won't tell anyone.'

‘Really?' Little tears like glistening crystals were slowly slipping down Jess's face. ‘I felt so bad. Honestly, I did. I do. I'm, I'm not a bad person.'

‘I know that.' I took a few steps towards her. This time she didn't try and stop me.

‘It's been like this horrible, horrible secret I've had,' she wept. ‘It's with me all the time. All the time. You probably hate me now.'

‘I don't hate you.'

‘I wouldn't blame you if you did.'

My time had come. This wasn't how I'd imagined it. I felt strangely calm, like my feet weren't quite touching the carpet, as I walked to her bed and knelt down on the floor beside her.

‘Jess,' I began. ‘I have a secret too.'

Ice-skating was hard. It was even harder in flares and a floppy hat. But Scott and I linked arms, and around and around we whizzed singing along to
We are Family
, which was blaring through the speakers.

‘You're not bad, Hol,' Scott shouted in my ear.

‘Let's go faster,' I shouted back.

‘You sure?'

‘Yeah!'

‘Okay.' Scott's grip tightened around my elbow. ‘You ready?'

I nodded. He dug the toe of his boot into the ice and we were off.

‘Just go with me,' he called. ‘I've got you.'

Faster and faster our skates cut into the ice. I felt so light. It was almost like we were about to take off into the air.

Jess's speed had picked up too. She whizzed past and winked at me. I knew she felt lighter. I could even see it in her face. She said she could see it in mine too.

‘You're going well,' Scott grinned. ‘Do you want to really get some speed up?'

‘Okay.'

Again his grip tightened.

Now Scott's cheek was almost touching mine. It was like a force was sucking us together. ‘Woooooooo,' I squealed.

‘Jess told me I'm not your type.'

‘Hey?' I shouted. Had I heard right?

Scott swerved out to look at me. I grabbed his hand. ‘Don't let me go.'

‘Jess told me I'm not your type,' he said those words again. ‘It's a shame 'cause I really like being with you, Hol.'

Oh no! This was a potential disaster.

‘Scott?' I tried to pull myself in closer to him so I could meet his eyes but I was going all unco and I was terrified of losing my balance and looking like a complete idiot.

‘Scott!' I yelped. ‘You are!' My left skate began to twist and slip. ‘You are my type.' I could feel myself beginning to slide across the ice but I kept shouting. ‘You are my type. You are
sooo
my type. I just said that. I, I …'

‘Take my hand,' Scott laughed as this time he tried to grab my arm and pull me into him, but I kept skidding out of his reach.

I knew I looked like I was doing the worst tap dance you'd ever seen.

Scott was killing himself. He reached out his hand and I managed to grab his fingers. But it wasn't enough to balance me. Suddenly it was all skates and arms and legs in the air. Down I fell, taking Scott with me.

‘Aggghhh!' I somersaulted towards the ramp. But I was laughing, shrieking, squealing with joy.

Didn't Calypso say that Scott would never ever go for someone like me? Calypso was wrong!

J.C. Burke was born in Sydney in 1965, the fourth of five daughters. With writers for parents, she grew up in a world full of noise, drama and books, and the many colourful characters who came to visit provided her with an endless supply of stories and impersonations.

Burke decided to become a nurse after her mother lost a long battle with cancer. She specialised in the field of Oncology, working in Haematology and Bone Marrow Transplant Units in Australia and the UK.

A creative writing course at Sydney University led to a mentorship with Gary Crew and the publication of Children's Book Council Notable book
White Lies
(Lothian) in 2002. Burke has since written
The Red Cardigan
, also a CBC Notable Book, and its sequel
Nine Letters Long
(Random House Australia). Her latest book,
The Story of Tom Brennan
, won the 2006 Children's Book Council of Australia Book of the Year: Older Readers award and also the Family Therapists' Award for Children's Literature 2006.

J.C. Burke lives on Sydney's Northern Beaches. Her teenage daughter now provides her with an endless supply of stories and impersonations! J.C. Burke loves writing for young adults, as they still have an optimistic eye on the world.

Visit
www.jcburke.com.au
for more information about J.C. Burke and her books.