Give Me Four Reasons (14 page)

‘Your name’s on the list.’

‘I’m sure I’m just a reserve or something.’

‘No, there were only seven names down for your team. Weren’t there, Elfi?’ Rochelle says, as our other friend joins us.

‘Yeah,’ Elfi says. ‘I thought it was a bit strange, seeing as you can’t really throw or catch a ball. But I guess anything’s possible with you these days, Paige.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I ask.

‘The new Paige Winfrey,’ Elfi says. ‘Hanging with the in-crowd.’

I stand up, huffing. ‘Well, it’s better than being a cockroach and hanging out in this filthy dark hole!’

‘We’re not cockroaches,’ Rochelle says. ‘We’re friends. Or at least we used to be.’

Friends notice when someone is sad that their dad left home, I think, but I don’t say it aloud. ‘We still are friends,’ I say instead. ‘But let’s hang out together down in the playground with the others, instead of hiding away up here. Jed’s down there with his grammar school mates.’

Rochelle looks at Elfi. Elfi stands and peers over the balcony at the kids below.

‘Come on,’ I coax. ‘They’re really nice girls. Sidney and Holly and Mandi and Brooke …’

‘That Miff girl wasn’t very nice this morning,’ Elfi says.

‘She is when you get to know her,’ I say.

‘How would you know that?’ Rochelle says. ‘You’ve only known her a day.’

‘I guess people can change in a day,’ Elfi says. She looks me up and down.

I sigh. ‘All I’m asking is for you to sit down there with me. With the rest of us.’

‘
Us?
’ Rochelle says. ‘
We
used to be the only us.’

‘Well, maybe it’s time to change all that,’ I plead. ‘Just give it a go. Sit with me at lunch and you’ll make a whole bunch of new friends. You’ll like them, I’m sure.’

Elfi and Rochelle look at each other. ‘All right,’ Rochelle says eventually. ‘But meet us here first, so we cockroaches can walk down there together.’

* *

It takes more coaxing at lunchtime but eventually Rochelle and Elfi follow me out of the cockroach hole and down into the sunny quadrangle outside. I go and sit beside Sidney in her usual spot by the tree. Rochelle and Elfi stand awkwardly at the edge of the circle.

‘So, Paige tells me you’re German,’ Sidney says to Elfi.

‘Yes,’ Elfi replies.

Rochelle nudges Elfi. The two of them reluctantly take a few steps forward and sit on the grass.

Sidney waits for Elfi to go on, but the usually chatty Elfi has stage fright.

‘So say something in German for me,’ Sidney suggests.

‘
Ich werde ganz nervös, wenn ich Deutsch spreche
,’ Elfi says.

‘Cool,’ Sidney says. ‘What did you say?’

‘I said,“I get nervous when I speak in German.”’

‘Say something else,’ Sidney orders. ‘I love listening to foreign languages.’

By now a dozen or so girls have turned our way and are following this exchange. Elfi looks at me and smiles. ‘
Welches ist Dein bestes Fach?
’ she asks Sidney.

Sidney glances around the group and shrugs.

‘What is your best subject?’ Elfi translates.

‘Not languages,’ Sidney says.

At that moment, Miff comes out of the canteen, clutching a Diet Coke. She looks for a place to sit, but Rochelle and Elfi are in her usual spot. She looks down at them as though she’d like to crush them underfoot, then squeezes in between Sidney and me.

‘What’s going on?’ she asks.

Elfi is clearly feeling bolder now. ‘
Sprechen Sie Deutsch?
’ she asks.

‘Even I know that one,’ Rochelle says. ‘It means, “Do you speak German?”’

Miff’s nostrils flare. ‘What’s going on?’ she repeats, glaring at me with wide eyes.

‘Elfi’s speaking German,’ I tell her.

‘Really?’ Miff says. ‘I’ve always wanted to say things to people I don’t like in another language. Can you help me?’

‘Sure,’ Elfi says. She smiles at me.

Rochelle smiles too. This is working out well.

‘How do you say,“Your bum is enormous”?’ Miff asks.

Elfi giggles, composes the words in her head, then says the German translation aloud. ‘
Du hast einen dicken Hintern.
’

Miff repeats the words to Elfi then says, ‘How do you say,“You have a face like a dog”?’

Elfi laughs again. ‘
Du siehst aus wie ein Hund.
’

Miff repeats the words, but this time she looks at Rochelle as she says them. Rochelle’s eyes narrow.

‘And how do you say, “Crawl back under that rock you came from”?’ Miff requests.

Elfi hesitates as she composes the sentence in her head.

Rochelle stands suddenly and yanks Elfi to her feet. ‘How do you say, “You’re a stupid cow”?’ Rochelle hisses, snarling at Miff.

The group of laughing girls goes silent. I finally realise what’s going on. I look at Sidney, waiting for her to chastise Miff, but she is staring at her fingernails.

‘Miff’s just having a laugh,’ I say.

‘Well, I’m glad you find it funny, Paige,’ Rochelle snaps. She grabs Elfi’s arm again and pulls her off across the playground.

Elfi is still trying to think of the German words she needs. Suddenly she shrugs Rochelle’s arm off, walks back to the group and says to Miff, ‘
Du bist eine blöde Kuh!
’

The whole group of girls—Miff, Mandi, Brooke, Holly and Mia—laugh hysterically. They point at Elfi and roll back on the grass. ‘
Du bist eine blöde Kuh!
’ they say to each other and slap palms. It seems being a stupid cow is a compliment to these girls. Even Sidney smiles, though she doesn’t join in.

But I am not a stupid cow. So I stand up and announce that I’m going to the toilet. And then I walk the long way around, via the toilets, back up to the cockroach hole.

Rochelle and Elfi refuse to look at me.

‘Make a choice, Paige,’ Rochelle says. ‘Because you can’t have both.’

‘It’s not my fault they were mean to you,’ I try to explain. ‘These girls are in all my classes this year. I
have
to be friends with them!’

‘What?’ Elfi says. ‘Do you think you can be friends with them in class and friends with us on weekends and after school? It doesn’t work like that.’

‘Why not?’ I plead. ‘Why does it have to be one or the other? Why can’t I have both?’

Elfi stares at me. ‘The fact that you
want
to be friends with girls like that says it all, Paige.’

‘That’s just Miff. Even Sidney says she’s mean.’

‘Then who are you in the group, Paige?’ Rochelle asks. ‘Sidney’s the queen. Miff’s the nasty one. Which one are you?’

The one who isn’t invisible
, I want to say. But I don’t. ‘Look, this is ridiculous,’ I sigh instead. ‘Why can’t you just be happy for me that I’ve made some new friends? I don’t have to choose between you. I can make this work. You’ll see.’

* *

But I’m wrong. It seems I do have to make a choice. Miff pulls me aside during Home Economics and lays down the law.

‘I don’t think you should bring those old friends of yours over to sit with us again.’

‘Why not?’

‘They … they don’t really fit in.’

‘They were just a bit shy.’

‘No,’ Miff says, ‘shy or not, they’ll never fit in.’

‘But … but Sidney thought they were okay.’ I turn to Sidney, who is peeling potatoes at the sink. ‘Didn’t you, Sidney?’

Sidney smoothes her hair back behind one ear and smiles her toothpaste-advert smile, but then she turns the tap on over the sink and continues preparing the potatoes without giving me an answer.

‘It’s like animals at a waterhole in Africa, or something,’ Miff says.

‘What?’ I say.

‘I saw a show about a waterhole once on TV,’ Miff explains. ‘All the animals go there and hang out, but they stick together with their own type. It’s the same at school.’

I am reminded of the girls in the animal-print bikinis at Felicity’s pool party. ‘But kids aren’t animals,’ I say.

‘What I mean is, the creatures kind of know where they belong and they stick together,’ Miff continues. ‘It’s like … imagine if a warthog decided to sit with the lions.’

‘They’d eat it alive,’ I say, ‘just like you did today with Rochelle and Elfi.’

Sidney has finished the potatoes and is drying her hands on a tea towel. ‘That’s nature, Paige,’ she says.

‘And a lion can’t go and sit with the warthogs,’ Miff continues. ‘It’s just too weird.’

‘So you have to choose who you are, Paige,’ Sidney says. ‘Are you a lion or a warthog?’

I don’t answer. Last year I was a warthog, according to Miff’s definition, happy to be wallowing in the mud and snapping at dragonflies. For the last two days I’ve had a taste of being a lion. I like it and I’m not sure I want to give it up.

When the bell rings at the end of the day and all the kids are heading for the school gate, I see Elfi and Rochelle at the edge of the crowd. I’m with Sidney and Miff, and we glide gracefully through the crowd as it parts before us.

Elfi and Rochelle wait for Sidney and Miff to pass, then wave at me.

I stop.

Sidney and Miff stop too, and turn around.

‘Paige?’ Elfi and Rochelle say, frowning at Sidney and Miff.

‘Paige?’ Sidney and Miff echo, acting like Elfi and Rochelle don’t exist.

I look away from my old friends’ questioning glances.
Warthogs or lions
, I think.

Then I turn my back on Elfi and Rochelle and walk out through the gate with Sidney and Miff.

19

It’s Saturday morning. I lie in bed, half-waiting for the
Ping! Ping! Ping!
of Elfi throwing seed pods against my window. Or the text message from Rochelle asking me over to her place. But I know I won’t hear from either of my friends since I turned my back on them yesterday. And maybe I don’t want to see them anyway. You’d think they’d be happy for me that I’ve got some new friends. But instead they’re jealous that I’m not the quiet one any more.

I lie in bed for a bit longer, flicking through another of Felicity’s old copies of
Cindy
. But after a while, the silence gets to me. I creep out of bed and poke my head into my sister’s room. It is empty. She went out last night with her friends. I guess she stayed over.

I poke my head into Mum’s room. It is empty also. Further down the hallway, the door to the spare room is closed. The familiar music and scent waft out from beneath the door. Mum has spent almost every waking moment in there since we got back from our holiday. I wonder what her cards and her crystal ball have told her.

I am about to tap on the door when Mum says, ‘Come in, Paige.’

She is sitting cross-legged on a cushion. She looks tired and old. Streaks of grey hair have appeared inher brown waves. Smears of tears shine on her cheeks.

‘Let’s do something fun today, Mum.’

‘Like what?’ she says.

‘We could go to the beach. Have a swim. Bodysurf.’

‘But we just got back from a whole month at the beach. Aren’t you sick of it?’

‘No, I’m not,’ I say, wishing I was back at Bloodstone Beach with Shelly. She wasn’t a new friend or an old friend. She was a holiday friend. After all the problems I’ve had with friends since I got home, I’m wondering if those are the best kind.

‘Well, how about I drive you down there and you can swim and I’ll sit in the cafe?’ Mum asks.

‘Sounds great!’

I put on my swimsuit and grab my towel and some sunscreen. Then I jump into the car with Mum. It feels nice doing something with just the two of us.

I leave Mum in the cafe overlooking the beach and run down to the surf. The flags are out and there are lots of people here. I instinctively look for Shelly’s mermaid rock, but that is hundreds of kilometres north.

I toss my towel onto the sand and swim out through the surf. I remember Shelly’s words about picking the right wave and how to ride it. Soon I am zooming through the surf, riding the waves to the shore. I look up to see if Mum is watching, but she is talking on her phone.

I paddle out again and again, lifting my head clear of the waves and riding them through the bobbing and flailing swimmers. I imagine I am at Bloodstone Beach. Caravans and tents crowd the headland. Jack and his friends surf the break off the point. Shelly and I laugh and bodysurf and search for treasure.

‘Hey, Paige!’

I turn towards the voice, a stupid part of me thinking it might be Shelly. It is Miff. She is swimming near the shore with a small boy. Her long wet hair clings to her chest and shoulders, covering her bikini top. She looks like a mermaid.

‘Nice moves, surfer girl. Where’s your board?’

‘My board? Um … it’s in getting fixed.’

‘What happened to it?’

‘A shark took a bite out of it when I was on holiday,’ I say. As soon as the words are out, I regret them.

‘No way!’ Miff says.

‘A shark?’ cries the little boy. He clings to Miff.

‘This is my bratty brother, Bradley,’ Miff says, rolling her eyes. But she picks him up and cuddles him and reassures him there’s no shark nearby.

‘So tell me about this shark,’ Miff whispers.

The details are clear. I read this just this morning in
Cindy
magazine. ‘It was only a small one—a juvenile tiger shark about three metres long—but it came up under me while I was out the back waiting for a set and latched onto my board. I was lucky it wasn’t my leg. I jumped off and starting swimming to shore, hoping that it wasn’t coming after me.’

‘And did it?’ Miff’s black eyes are wide with wonder.

‘No. It swam off, taking a chunk of my board with it.’

‘I didn’t hear about this on the news,’ Miff says, shaking her head in awe.

‘Oh … it was when we were on holidays. Up north. There was no mobile phone reception or anything. We didn’t bother reporting it.’

‘Jeez, Paige. And you just get back in the water as though nothing has happened. I would have needed counselling for months.’

I suddenly realise how enormous this lie is. Why didn’t I just say that my board fell over in the garage and a fin snapped off? Or that it fell off the roof rack of the car?

Or that I don’t even have a surfboard.

But Miff is looking at me as if I am someone interesting. If we were leaving school right now, I bet she would write about the shark attack in my Passport.
You are so brave, Paige. Best buds forever!