The Incredible Adventures of Cinnamon Girl (22 page)

I look around. I have no idea where Tia and Caroline have disappeared to; probably to that secret club where all the other ex-virgins of the Valley hang. I glance up at the bleak, suffocating sky. I step away from Daniel and spin around with a smile.

‘Sure, Daniel. Let’s get out of here.’

Without the background music filling the Valley, Daniel’s place is even more depressingly blah than normal. Apart from a single coffee cup on their dining table, the house looks totally unlived in.

‘Remind me to bring you a pot plant or one of our plastic Santas,’ I say as we stumble into the kitchen. ‘This house looks like the place personality came to die.’

Daniel brightens. ‘That reminds me – I totally forgot last time, but I have a present for you.’ He bounces over to the sideboard and reappears with a paper bag. ‘I didn’t exactly come prepared. But I do have some stuff I think you’ll like. Merry belated Christmas, Alba.’

I take the bag from his hands. ‘Hey! You can’t give away your comics! Even though – oh, you have the new
Ms. Marvel
, and, no way, the last couple of
Justice League
s? I’d been meaning to order them for ages … okay, this
Earth One
I’ve got … the art’s ace, but it’s like, cheer up emo Superman –’ My hand closes around a hardcover book at the back of the pile. On the cover is a picture of a man with way too many white teeth. He’s holding a cartoon apple squeezed by a measuring tape. ‘What’s this?’

Daniel takes the book from me. His ears turn scarlet. ‘Oh … ah. Well … this was the book that saved my arse a few years back. You remember how many things Mum tried to get me to lose weight? As desperately as I wanted not to look like that German kid from
Willy Wonka
, your mum’s caramel slices always won out. But then I got into this guy’s program, and I started running and hitting the weights … I didn’t realise that was in there though.’ He flips thoughtfully through the book. And then he hands it back to me. ‘You can have it. You might find it useful too.’

I stare blankly at his cheekboney face. ‘You’re giving me your diet book?’

‘It’s okay. I normally keep a couple of copies around my house. The one above the fridge comes in real handy when I’m suffering ice-cream withdrawals –’

I’m not entirely sure what my expression is doing. But Daniel stops talking. And his face becomes kind of horrified.

‘Oh. No, I didn’t mean that you needed … you look great, Alba, really, but you know, you and I were always the same. It was always the thing we had most in common.’ He slips the book back into the bag and shoves it into my hands with an uncomfortable laugh. ‘Do what you want with it. No biggie, right?’

I drop the paper bag onto the counter. ‘No biggie. I guess … I just never realised that
that
was the thing we had most in common?’ I peer closely at his face. ‘I never realised it was such a big deal for you. You were always so happy when we were kids. You always seemed like you didn’t care what anyone thought.’

He grunts, his eyes on his feet. ‘Yeah, well. Maybe I was a born actor. Some bits of my life here were awesome. And some bits sucked arse. I was never like you, you know. I wasn’t a huge fan of me when I was little.’

In my head, I guess my memories are a hazy montage, coupled with some frozen, flash-panel highlights. I remember Daniel’s squealy, pre-pubescent voice. I remember weekend afternoons in the gazebo at Anzac Park, me and Daniel face-deep in comics, while Grady played
Mario Golf
on Anthony’s old Game Boy. But I’m staring into Daniel’s eyes, and, all of a sudden, I’m remembering other stuff, too. I remember the melancholy looks he used to give Grady and his brother as they bounced, shirtless, around the abandoned basketball court. I remember the random excuses he invented to get out of swimming at Merindale pool. I remember all those sleepovers at my house, Daniel hidden beneath oversized jammies, regardless of the weather.

‘Did I offend you?’ he says quietly.

I shake my head. ‘No. I just never realised you were unhappy back then. I’m really sorry, Daniel.’ I give his cheek a fleeting kiss. ‘I should have noticed.’

Daniel smiles. ‘I wasn’t unhappy. Not all the time. You and Grady … you two made everything okay. You probably don’t remember but … I didn’t have anyone until you guys let me in. Not sure I’ll ever be able to repay you both for that.’ His smile falters. ‘And Alba, sometimes we all suck at noticing what’s right in front of our face.’

He takes a step towards me. ‘What happened to you Christmas Day?’ he says out of the blue. Like a switch has been flicked, the softness in his face is replaced by that calculating stare I know oh so well. ‘I looked everywhere for you after dinner. I even hauled my arse to the bakery, but by the time I got there your windows were dark.’

‘Oh. Yeah, that. The party got a bit too wild for some of us so Grady crashed at mine and then –’

‘Wait. You guys still have sleepovers?’

I suck in a breath at the distinct
whump!
that punches behind my ribs. ‘Yeah. So?’

‘So – you don’t still sleep in the same bed, though. Right?’

I feel my traitorous cheeks flush. ‘Mum bought a couch for Grady years ago,’ I stammer. ‘But, hey now,
you
never had a problem sleeping over –’

‘I never had a problem sleeping over when we were
six
, Sarah.’ He gives me his smug grin. ‘If you invited me for a “sleepover” now, I might have a few things in mind other than watching
X-Men
, know what I mean?’

God. He even does the sucky little air quotes over the word ‘sleepover’.

‘Daniel, don’t be stupid. It’s not like that with Grady and me. He’s like my –’

Daniel holds up a hand. ‘Sarah, don’t take this the wrong way, but if you finish that with “he’s like my brother”, I might vomit in my mouth. Jesus. You are the only one imagining siblingy blood between you and Domenic. Trust me on that.’

‘You’re delusional,’ I snap.

‘And you’re blind,’ he says back. ‘But, Sarah, the End of Days might be here. What does
any
of this stuff matter? If the planet being sucked into a black hole isn’t going to give you a shake-up, then nothing I say is gonna make a difference. Is it?’

I jiggle my hands out at my sides, but I can’t feel anything in them other than pins and needles. Daniel squares his shoulders. The muscles beneath his T-shirt stretch in that particular boy-way that makes me forget for half a second this whole inexplicable Two-Face thing he seems to have going on. He narrows his eyes, his lips pursed together. There’s something oddly familiar in that expression. I just can’t put my finger on it –

‘You have a
killer
smile. You know that, right?’ he says.

Well, actually Daniel, I do. My smile is one of my best features. But probably not a polite thing to admit.

‘Thanks,’ I say, clasping my hands behind my back. ‘Kind of random, but –’

‘And
amazing
lips,’ he says, his voice suddenly all weird and husky.

Look, I’m cute as, I know this, and it’s not like I’ve ever had a shortage of guys buzzing around. I’m not Eddie, who freaks every time a girl so much as looks in his direction, or Caroline, who’s happily smooched dozens of boys, leaving a trail of broken hearts in her wake. Sue me for being sappy, but I haven’t kissed that many random guys because I decided I don’t
want
to kiss random guys. Kissing is supposed to be no big deal, but really? I just never
liked
being that smooshed together with any old someone. All that mingled breath and lips and stranger tongue – I realise kisses don’t ever happen like they do in stories, but I’m not ready to give up on the fantasy.

Which is why, I think, when Daniel Gordon – who got seven votes in that uni web poll of sexy unknown TV stars, and who used to make me laugh so hard in kinder that I snorted orange cordial out my nose, twice – leans hesitantly towards me, and his lips come within brushing distance of mine, my lips twitch experimentally back for, like, a millisecond, before my body does this spasmy leap backwards, almost tripping over a kitchen stool. And the words that tumble out of my apparently amazing lips are:

‘Ew, gross!’

O-
kay
. Possibly not my finest moment here.

Daniel takes a hurried step backwards. The scarlet in his ears spills over his cheeks. ‘Well. Can honestly say I’ve never received
that
reaction before.’

‘Daniel, I’m sorry,’ I choke out. ‘The gross bit, I mean. That might have been rude –’

He laughs. ‘Rude? Um, that’s not the word I would’ve used. Ego-shattering, maybe. Confusing, for sure –’

I stamp my foot. ‘Hey! I wasn’t asking you to kiss me, Daniel! I mean, hello – what were you thinking? It’s
me
. It’s as weird as making out with – who’s that chick who plays your sister on
Gum Trees
?’

He snorts and laughs and looks exasperated, all at the same time. ‘Sarah Jane. Firstly, kissing you would be nothing even remotely like kissing a sister. Dunno if you’ve noticed, but neither of us is six anymore. You are one of my oldest friends. Pretty sure we aren’t related. There’d be nothing wrong, or weird, about giving it a shot. And secondly, I have
totally
made out with the chick who plays my sister on
Gum Trees
. She has a tongue piercing.’ He grins. ‘
So
hot.’

I realise, as he has been talking, that I have backed myself against his breakfast bar, a kitchen stool between us like a force field. But he looks less embarrased now, and more bemused than anything, which just makes me even more pissed. I stomp forward again till we’re toe-to-toe.

‘Daniel, after everything I’ve told you, all the stuff you know is in my head – what makes you think that kissing you would be the answer to
any
of my problems?’

He crosses his arms, his ears becoming pink again. ‘I don’t think I actually said that, Sarah. What I
think
I said was that there would be nothing weird if you wanted to give it a shot. But if kissing me is – well, in your words, so unspeakably
gross
that you’d rather have your tongue gnawed out by a rabid possum – maybe it wouldn’t hurt to think about
why
exactly that might be –’

I grab my sketchpad. ‘Okay. Thanks for the advice. I’m going to go away now.’

‘Alba, wait –’

‘No really, Daniel, I’m just about done with the smarm. I can’t figure out what the hell is going on with you. Sometimes you are the you I remember – the you who I missed like crazy – and sometimes I think you are messing with me for fun. Only, I can’t for the life of me figure out why.’

He grabs the paper bag of comics, and he walks backwards in front of me as I push towards his door. ‘Alba, I’m sorry, that was rash and probably … ill-conceived.’ He stops me with a light hand on my elbow and shoves the books into my limp hands. ‘But you wanna know what happened to me? What happened was, I figured out that being comfortable isn’t always a good thing. And an outside shove was exactly what I needed.’

I step outside and turn around, only to find Daniel staring at me pensively, his jaw working back and forth like he’s holding back a raft of word spewage.

‘Daniel, I’m sorry if I confused you, or whatever. I’ll … see you around, okay?’

I walk away before he can answer. Under the white sky, the messy human sounds of the Valley swirl around me. I suppose that snubbing the lips of a gorgeous boy with perfect muscles and piercing eyes – the boy who has always been a missing part of my story – might be considered by some people to be one of the portents of the coming End of Days. Maybe there is something seriously wrong with me.

I slip into my backyard and sit on my steps, my heartbeat drumming a steady, solid beat. Daniel’s blushing face floats in front of me, but I can’t make myself feel sorry for saying no. Maybe lips, and spectacular abs, are not going to solve any of my problems right now.

And maybe, just maybe, there is nothing wrong with me at all.

I open my eyes at 5.22 the next morning to a chorus of gentle singing coming from the farm. In the heat and dark, it’s a little like waking in the midst of a shamanic ritual. It is, weirdly, sort of peaceful. I close my eyes, trying to coax my brain into a serene, zen-like state. Until I realise the song drifting into my room is a badly harmonised version of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’, at which point I haul arse out of bed.