The Shattering (25 page)

Aroha looked stunned now, and he felt mean for pricking the bubble of all her brotherly dreams. ‘I'm making it sound worse than it is,' he said. He remembered being told to go away, stop hanging around — a thousand little stings about his height, his clothes, his brains — but concentrated instead on a happy memory, one of the shining, true things Matthew had done. ‘There was this one time — it was in Summerton, actually. I was about eight, and I hadn't learned to swim. Shameful, right? What kind of eight-year-old Samoan can't swim? I'd dog-paddle, but I wouldn't put my head underwater, even in the lagoons. I was afraid of what could be there. It was stupid.'

Aroha's eyes were intent upon his face, and he realised how pretty they were, a clear, true blue. ‘No,' she said quietly.

‘It was. Dad was really angry about it. He tried to bribe me into learning, and then he tried to punish me when I wouldn't —'

‘Jesus.'

‘No, he was right. It was important. It's not safe, not knowing how.' He thought of his father's first home, of the grey-green water that had terrified Sione, and the cousins who had leaped, long-limbed and fearless, into the lagoons and run splashing into the ocean.

‘And Matthew taught you?'

‘Well, now you've spoiled the ending,' Sione told her. She surprised him by laughing, and he felt himself grinning back. ‘Yeah. Not in a magical Disney way. He just splashed around in the shallow end of the saltwater pool down by the beach and told me to come in. I always wanted to be where he was and do what he was doing, so when he asked me . . . I actually tried. Matthew loved to swim, and he loved trying to be older than he was. Being in the kids' end must have really annoyed him. But he stayed there until I could do it on my own.' Sione sighed. ‘And then he left me there, I guess.'

‘And now you can swim,' Aroha said, and leaned her shoulder against his.

‘Now I can,' he said, and leaned back.

They were silent for a little while. Sione could feel Aroha's breathing as it moved her arm against his, the soft slide of her jeans as she shift ed her weight minutely. She might have been breathing a little faster than normal. But so was he.

A kereru flew over the lake, white flashing from the underside of the iridescent-blue-and-purple wings. Aroha exclaimed, breaking the silence.

Sione found that his plan had come together after all. It just wasn't the plan he thought he had been making. He took his courage in both hands and leaped into the deep end. ‘This Beach Bash thing,' he said. ‘Would you like to go with me?'

‘
Yes,' she said, and beamed at him. ‘That would be great.'

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

JANNA

Janna was sort of grateful for the stupid radio interview that
Patrick had suckered her into.
For one thing, it got her out of Summerton, and the chance of seeing anything that reminded her of either of
them
. Bad enough that she still had to think of them when she tried to think of protecting Takeshi or read one of Keri's four billion plans.

For another thing, the interview itself was really fun. Patrick's cousin Xiao-Xiao was like a smaller, feistier, girl version of Patrick, and Janna got a straight-girl crush on her right away. Which made her think of Keri, which made the little voice start up again, but Janna drowned it under Stardust's charisma and lilted her way through the interview, funny, flirtatious, and just a bit wild.

‘The Beach Bash is known for launching rising stars,' Xiao-Xiao said. ‘So what's next for Vikings to the Left ?'

Patrick opened his mouth, but Janna leaned forward and spoke confidently into the big, fuzzy microphone. ‘Who knows?' she said. ‘But the world better be ready for it.'

Xiao-Xiao gave her a thumbs-up, lips curving in appreciation. ‘We'll be waiting. And that's it for “Scene It” this week. I'm your host, Xiao-Xiao, and join me next week for a report on the Beach Bash and all the Double X action you can handle. Local community news is next, and I'm playing you out with “What They Say When They See You,” by the ultratalented Vikings to the Left .' She flipped a switch and took her headphones off, grinning at them.

‘People don't like show-off s,' Patrick grumbled.

‘People love show-offs,' Janna told him, hopping off her stool. ‘They just don't like that they do. Smile, Patrick! We're on the radio!'

Xiao-Xiao poked him in the shoulder. ‘Seriously, cuz. Crack those pearly whites.'

Patrick pulled his lips back from his teeth and leered into Janna's face. ‘It can be taught!' Janna announced. ‘Sort of.'

‘You guys want to eat?' Xiao-Xiao offered. ‘There's great Thai down the block.'

‘Nah. We have to get back.' Patrick gave his cousin a quick hug and muttered thanks, and slung his messenger bag over his shoulder before picking up his guitar. That was probably the real reason he'd wanted to drive down — the chance to play live on air.

Janna dawdled enough to take another look at the radio studio, all the cds piled against the wall in their plain wooden shelves, the lps in plastic sleeves looking dusty in the corner. This was going to be her world, she promised herself. This was where she belonged.

Driving back, they played songs on the sound system in turn, bagging on each other's choices. Janna twice picked a fight over a song she actually liked, just for the fun of watching Patrick's face turn itself inside out with sneering at her lack of taste.

‘You're so ugly when you hate everything,' she informed him. ‘Which is, oh, all the time.'

‘How's being a knockout working for you?' Patrick asked. ‘People taking you seriously, are they?'

Janna made a face. ‘If music doesn't work out, you could always try stand-up. Can I drive the next bit?'

Patrick shot her a glance under his fringe. ‘No,' he said. ‘Insurance won't cover it.'

Janna picked at the hem of her plaid skirt. ‘The crash wasn't my fault, you know.'

‘I know. You're a good driver.'

She raised her head, surprised, but he was watching the road as they passed through one of the hamlets between Greymouth and Westport. It was raining, that light drizzle that fell everywhere outside Summerton. In the rain, the few houses looked grey and tired, the one car in sight rusty around the doors and wheels. Janna shivered. ‘Do you think people still live there?'

Patrick shrugged. ‘Dunno. Pretty shitty for them if they did.'

‘Do you ever worry about what might happen to Summerton?' she asked. ‘If people stop coming?'

‘I don't think about Summerton much.' For a moment, she thought it was all he was going to say, but he surprised her again. ‘I guess it would suck. That's where most of the money comes from. People would lose their jobs. The hospital might close. My dad probably couldn't be a taxi driver anymore; most of his fares are tourists.'

Janna slumped. ‘The town would die.' As she said it, she felt something clutch at her chest and understood, dimly, that Daisy must have felt that fear. That fear might have made her do what she did — not fear for herself but fear for the town, fear of an uncertain future.

It was still selfish and wrong, she reminded herself. But because Janna knew she was selfish herself, the thought made her wriggle. ‘Maybe not that bad,' Patrick said cautiously. ‘Why are you worried about it?'

‘I don't know,' she said.

It was totally annoying that Patrick
knew
she was lying. She
knew
that he knew. But he just leaned forward and cued up the next song and left it up to her whether she'd explain or not.

‘I really like Takeshi,' she said over Salmonella Dub's latest.

‘Uh, okay?'

‘I'd hate it if he got hurt.'

Patrick snorted. ‘Anyone who tried to hurt him would have to get through you first. Hope they have nice funerals. What are you
talking
about?'

‘Nothing,' Janna said. She crunched into her seat and reminded herself that she was doing the right thing. She didn't look at any more abandoned houses all the rest of the way home.

On the day before New Year's Eve, Vikings finished their last rehearsal.

‘Want to run “Elephant in the Bath” again?' Hemi asked. ‘That bridge is still dodgy.'

‘I think we're done,' Patrick said. He picked through the opening chords for ‘Coming Down Again' and shook his head. ‘I don't want to overplay it. We know what we're doing.'

‘I do,' Kyle said. ‘
You
sang “grey as burnt rose” and not “grey as
a
burnt rose” again.'

‘Grey as burnt rose scans better.'

‘It doesn't make sense.'

‘It —'

‘Boys, boys,' Janna interrupted, strumming a chord for emphasis. ‘Shut up. What are you going to wear?'

‘Black,' Patrick said blankly.

‘Do you own anything else?' Hemi wondered. He was wearing one of his gross T-shirts, this one proclaiming him a member of ‘Boob Watch.'

‘I could wear my school uniform,' Patrick told him. ‘And you could wear yours.'

Janna gave up, put Cherry Bomb in her case, and went to kiss Takeshi while the other guys squabbled. He was wearing his jacket. He had worn it every day since she'd said it made him look cute, protection charm hidden safely in the hem. And if sometimes Aroha vanished to give them the suite and Janna ended up taking the jacket off, well, she was there to look after him then.

‘You are very good,' he said, and squeezed her hand. ‘Are you worried? On the news, they say it will rain tomorrow night. A big storm.'

Kyle laughed. ‘Hey, check the tourist,' he said. ‘Guys, did you hear the Beach Bash is going to get rained out?'

Hemi cackled. ‘Summerton really rarks the weather girls,' he told Takeshi. ‘It never rains, from Christmas to New Year.'

‘Why?' Takeshi asked, and Janna tensed all over.

But Hemi just shook his head. ‘Don't know,' he said, bored. ‘Microclimate or something. The storm will come up from the South, then go out to sea and leave us warm and dry. And rocking out.'

Takeshi nodded, and then tipped his head at Janna. ‘What will you wear?'

She kissed his forehead. ‘Something fun. You'll see.'

‘Something short, I hope,' Hemi said, and yelped when Patrick punched his arm.

‘Okaaaay, we're going,' Janna said, tugging Takeshi up. He came willingly, laughing with his eyes. ‘Bye, guys.'

‘Get plenty of sleep,' Patrick warned, and rolled his eyes when the other boys went ‘Ooooooooh' in unison. ‘Shit, grow
up
.'

But when they returned to the hotel, Aroha was in the suite, reading a book and looking as if hints about going for a long walk would be totally ignored. Janna thought she'd have to settle for kisses and an early bedtime.

‘Are you going tomorrow?' Janna asked her.

‘Yeah,' Aroha said, looking surprised. Janna reviewed the last few days and realised she hadn't talked to Aroha much, other than implying it was a great day out there and maybe Aroha would like to explore it. Oops. ‘I'm going with Sione, actually,' she went on, looking pleased, and all of Janna's guilt vanished in the red wash of fury.

It's not real
, she told herself, but every time she told herself that, she was less convinced. Even if the spell had started everything, they'd said such disgusting things to her. There was
no
excuse good enough.

‘Oh,' Takeshi said.

Aroha looked frustrated. ‘We'll get there after you guys, don't worry. What was this famous fight about, anyway?'

‘Ask
him
,' said Janna.

‘He's not saying.'

‘I bet he's not.'
Wimp
, said the voice in her head.
Sad little potato
. She caught the look Takeshi and Aroha exchanged and felt her anger spark hotter. ‘Are you two talking behind my back?'

‘We just wanted to —'

‘Fine. Whatever.' She stalked toward the door, then whirled back and kissed Takeshi, hard and furious. Aroha hid behind her book, possibly rolling her eyes, but Janna didn't care. ‘Wear your jacket,' she whispered in Takeshi's ear, then released him.

‘Good night,' he said behind her, sounding confused and a little lost.

After
, she thought.
I'll explain to him after.
And then he would break up with her because he'd think she was a total liar, but what the hell. He was leaving on New Year's Day anyway, going back to Auckland, and then to Japan, and she would never see him again. Stardust wouldn't care; she'd take the memories of a good time and a hot fling and carry on.

Janna felt like shit.

‘I lay down by the long grass,' she sang in the lift, doing jazz hands with faked enthusiasm to her reflection in the brushed chrome. ‘I laid down my heart.'

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE