Gracie Faltrain Gets it Right (Finally) (20 page)

‘There are two messages on the machine for you,' Mum tells me when I come home from Gracie's on Saturday morning. Before I press the red button I say over and over: ‘Please be from Andrew and Brett. Please be from Andrew and Brett.' I feel like my ears are blocked at the moment and even yelling would be better than the silence.

At Gracie's last night, before I slept, I thought about what she said. ‘Fix what you can and live with the rest.' I've never had to live with my mistakes before. I was too busy ruling my pages neatly and sitting quietly at school to make any mistakes that could hurt people.

‘Message one,' the machine says. ‘We'd like to talk to Alyce Fuller, regarding her application. She's been short-listed for the Young United Nations Program.'

‘Message two: Hi, hon, it's Janet. I got a call from New York. They think you've been working with us for a year. Was that a typing error?'

*

‘Everything I've done this year has been a lie,' I say to Roberta.

‘Not everything. The way you've worked with those kids hasn't been a lie.'

‘It started out as one.'

‘It's where you end up that counts, take it from an old woman who can't control her bladder and needs her hearing aids turned up to screaming level. You've got a lot of stupid mistakes ahead, Alyce. You can be as smart as you like, you'll still end up making them.'

‘I don't know what to do about my application.'

‘You do,' she says. ‘There are two choices. You don't have enough backbone yet to go either way, that's all.'

I walk around after I leave her house. I think about all the mistakes I've made this year. In the middle of those thoughts about mistakes, I think about the things I've done right. I like talking with Roberta and making her cups of tea. I like teaching Foster how to solve a problem in Maths. I like seeing him pretend not to care when he gets something right. I like that the neighbourhood house has an under-12 soccer team now. I like arguing with Tracy over which actor made the best Mr Darcy. I like that she's promised to straighten my hair for the dance. Of course, I don't have anyone to go to the dance with, anymore, but I'm trying to dwell on the positive.

Roberta's right. I have two choices when it comes to the United Nations. I had two choices when it came to Andrew and Brett. I didn't make a choice between them because I couldn't decide which one would make me happier. That's the thing, I suppose. You do what you think is right and you take the risk.

Janet's hanging out some washing when I arrive at the centre. ‘It's not often you get a sunny day in winter,' she says. ‘I thought I'd give the dryer a rest.'

I hand her a tea towel and a peg. ‘It wasn't a typing error.'

‘I didn't think so. You're not the sort of kid who makes them.' She doesn't say I'm not the sort of kid to lie, either and I'm grateful. What sort of person lies, anyway? A person who wants things they can't have? A person who's scared? A person who's been picked on all their life and wants to change that in the final year of high school?

‘Did you tell them?' I ask.

‘You've worked hard for the little time you've been here. Foster's mum said he's agreed to accept the help the school have been offering for years. That's because of you and Andrew. So, I've been thinking. My memory's not what it used to be. I can't quite think when you started but it feels like years ago.'

I look across to the kids training with Andrew. I think about how hard it was to be honest with him this year, to be honest with anyone here. If I get into the program I want it to be because of who I am, not who I pretended to be. I started at the centre to add a line to my application but I had it all confused. I want to go to New York to help people. I don't want to help people so I can go to New York. ‘Thank you. But I'm going to tell them the truth. I'll keep volunteering here, while I'm at university. I could tutor Foster. I'd miss him if I left.'

‘You're not giving up on the UN because you're afraid, are you? Or because of any other reason?' She looks towards Andrew.

‘I'm not sure he and I are even friends anymore.' I'm not staying for him. I'm staying for me. I think I could like the person I'm going to be next year when I'm not at school and I don't have the shadow of the old me hanging around. ‘I'm putting the UN on hold,' I tell Janet. ‘I'm excited about starting university next year.'

‘It's an exciting time.' She looks up. ‘You think it's going to rain?'

‘I don't think so. They're stratus clouds. They get their name from the Latin word that means to spread out.' I hold my arms like wings to show her.

For the rest of this year I plan on being Alyce, I think, as I walk across the field. I stand next to Andrew even though it's uncomfortable. This is who I am. I think too much, I wear glasses and skirts that don't always sit right, I'm scared a lot of the time and I like making up long sentences that are grammatically correct. I lied to my boyfriend because I wanted to kiss someone else; I lied on my application to a world institution that I respect above all others, except, possibly, Amnesty. This is Alyce Fuller. Take me or leave me. I notice that Andrew hasn't shaved today. Please take me.

‘Are you angry?' I ask after the kids have gone.

‘I was, for a second. But I can't exactly have a go at you for lying.'

‘I got mixed up. You were so mean last year and when Brett asked me out I felt good about myself again. But I always liked you.' I feel red spreading up my neck. ‘I couldn't control myself.'

‘Welcome to my world. I've been out of control for years,' he says, and laughs. ‘When everyone walked away this year,
you stayed. I like coaching. That Foster's got a mouth on him but he picks things up quick. Delia's a little Faltrain and there's even a little Corelli in there, too. I'll fix that, though. I figure I owe you at least one stuff-up.'

‘I'm not going to the UN. I'll study law here, if I'm accepted.'

‘They'll take you. You're so smart I don't get half the stuff you say.' He picks up his bag. ‘I'm catching up with the guys. It's good to be talking to Knight again. So, I'll see you around?'

‘Wait. I forgot to give you something.'

‘What?' he asks.

‘It's not here.'

‘Well, can I come and get it tomorrow? I'm late.'

‘It's behind that tree over there.'

He looks at me like I'm crazy but he follows, away from the old people staring at us through the window. ‘I don't see it,' he says. Get a backbone, get a backbone, get a backbone. Is this what Brett went through before he kissed me? My heart is out of control. The birds are crowding at my throat. ‘Alyce? You look weird.'

I kiss him before I think any more about it. I kiss him and think of a hundred kites, of the sun appearing from behind clouds, of birds swooping.

‘I'm glad I looked behind the tree,' he says.

‘You should look behind there tomorrow, too.' And I neaten my hair as we walk across the park.

The holidays pass slowly. Dan and Kally and Annabelle are away at Kally's house in the country. And yes, I know it's not a giant conspiracy to go somewhere and talk about me. I know they've been planning it since the start of the year, but it still hurts. Everything hurts. It's like a shower on sunburn every day.

‘I hate that I'm not clearly in the right or clearly in the wrong,' I say to Dad. ‘It's usually one or the other for me.'

He turns down his latest documentary. ‘That's what separates us from the animals, baby. Why don't you call Martin and give him a chance to explain?'

‘I can't.'

‘Seven years of friendship is worth a little hurt pride. Just think about it.'

All I do over the holidays is think about it. And the longer I leave talking to them all, the easier it seems to just walk away.

Term three is the beginning of the end for Year 12 students.
Year 12 Survival Guide

I can confirm. It feels like the beginning of the end.
Gracie Faltrain

It's not possible to avoid Kally once school starts. It seems like everywhere I turn, she's standing there with Annabelle. I go to the toilet and both of them are washing their hands at the sink. I'm at my locker and so are they. ‘They don't say anything to me. They're just there,' I tell Jane.

‘It's phase two of the giant conspiracy,' Jane says. ‘Next they'll be in the tuckshop, waiting silently in line. Have you taken notice of how quiet it's been this week, Faltrain?'

‘Not especially.'

‘I mean, no one's giving you crap about what you did at the movies. Not Susan, no one.'

‘It happened before the holidays.'

‘That sort of rumour's like fire. It leaps the holidays and keeps right on spreading. That is, unless no one tells, Faltrain. Kally and Annabelle haven't said a word.'

‘Sure, throw their niceness back in my face.' It's been hanging around me all holidays, that feeling that I'm
actually more in the wrong camp than the right one. ‘You think I'm bad.'

‘You're still not getting it,' she says, standing up and brushing the last few crumbs from her sandwich away. ‘Let that little light in your head come on. It's been flickering all holidays. I need to go to the toilet before class. See you after school.'

‘What? You're walking off without telling?'

‘Faltrain, this is like telling you that the sky's blue. It's not a ground-breaking revelation.'

In the last ten minutes of lunch I walk down to the oval. I've played here since Year 7 and all around me are the ghosts of Gracie Faltrain's stupid past. I've had so many theories about how people should live and love and act and in the end, it's like my dad always told me. There are no easy answers, baby. And it's never black and white.

I like black and white. They're good, solid colours. You know what to wear with them. Maybe you don't have to accept that life's grey, though. Grey's a high school colour, too. Maybe life's a range of every shade imaginable. It's all that choice that makes it exciting. And it's all that choice that makes you hover around the wardrobe, confused about what top goes with what skirt.

On the bright side, I think today, leaning back on the grass, I passed all my mid-year exams. Mrs Young says doing well in the final exams is a strong possibility for me. Who would have guessed that passing school would be the fairly easy bit? It's everything else that's hard. All around are memories of Martin and me. Last year, before we broke up,
he mentioned taking a road trip. And I dreamed that he and I would go together.

But the truth is Dad's right. My pride is hurt. It hurts like a dislocated butt after rocketing off a walking machine at the gym. I don't want to go on a road trip into the sunset with Martin. I don't actually want to go on a road trip into the sunset with anyone. I want to focus on the World Cup and study at uni next year, which is an even stranger development than Alyce cheating on Brett. While I'm studying and training, I want to hang out with Dan. But after the long time it's taken for me to work that out, it's about as likely as seeing the Brady Bunch walk onto the field again. Hands up if anyone else feels like they're in a strange life-looping door that keeps swinging back to hit them on the butt?

I have to say sorry to Annabelle and I have to mean it. It's ugly, and I don't like admitting it, but I knew her dad had died in Year 6 and I still did all those things to her.

I have to say sorry to Kally, too. It's strange how when I'm the closest to getting what I've most wanted I'm the furthest away from it. We're almost down to the last twenty players at state trials. It means something, but it doesn't mean as much as it did at the start of the season. I guess there really are more important things than soccer. Or at least there are things that are as important. Like my friends. Like promises I've made. Like making up for the past.

A lot rests on the practice match this Sunday. The final training session tonight counts. I'm going. It's time to get on with things, Gracie Faltrain. If there's one thing that is clear after this season, it's that you back up your team. You finish what you started.

As if a reward for my good thoughts, Martin sends me a text:
Faltrain, can we talk? I'll come to your house after school.
He's meeting me more than halfway, I think, and I text him that I'll be there.

‘I should have told you about me and Annabelle,' Martin says, sitting on my step. ‘But I knew it would hurt.'

‘Did you like her while we were going out?' It's the question that's keeping me up at night.

‘When we were together I didn't even look at another girl.'

‘Because I would have punched you.'

‘Because I didn't see them, Faltrain.'

‘So when did you start seeing them?' What I really want to ask is when he started seeing Annabelle, when he started kissing her. But I can't. That question hurts too much.

‘On the first month of that road trip I couldn't think about anything but you. I wrote postcard after postcard. But Faltrain, we've changed since Year 10. I knew all the while I was missing you that it wouldn't work.'

I'm crying now. I know he's right but there's a part of me that wants it all: I want Dan as well as Martin even though that's not fair.

‘You're still my best mate. You're still the most amazing thing I've ever seen on the soccer field.' The anger in me gets quiet after he says that. I don't need him to love me like he did. I need to know that the years behind us matter.

We talk for ages. It's late when he leaves. ‘Here,' he says, and hands me a packet of postcards. ‘I thought you might want to read them. I did miss you, Faltrain.'

‘I missed you, too.'

I read through Martin's trip after he's gone. I'm there at the start, walking beside him, talking and laughing. And then I slowly fade out so there's just the whisper of me. It makes me sad, sure. But that's the way it happened when I started to like Dan. That's the way it should have been.

My feeling of calm nostalgia doesn't last long, though. It's replaced by panicked current time. I remember where I was meant to be tonight. Crap. Double crap. I try to ring Kally but she's not answering. Her phone doesn't even go through to message bank. Now that I'm not gripped by insane jealousy, I can see that Kally might not have been in on a plan orchestrated by Annabelle since primary school to steal the boy I love. Okay, when I say it like that I see that I've been a bit unreasonable. I'm going to show up tomorrow and win that bet. She'll have to forgive me if I save her hair. Right?