Thyla (7 page)

I didn’t take Rhiannah and her friends wholly seriously when they said I might need protecting from Charlotte. She was, after all, only a girl, and I hadn’t done anything
really
bad to offend her or make her dislike me.

At least, I didn’t think I had. I wasn’t rude or impolite. I was very courteous and grateful for all of her help.

And yet she seemed very quickly to go from friend to enemy. It was horrible, Connolly! One moment, she was hooking her arm through mine and showing me to her friends as though I was some sort of prize, and the next she had turned against me like a contrary wind.

I first got an inkling of it when I went down to breakfast the day after the Day of Waffles (as I will now always remember it). For the rest of the Day of Waffles I had floated around on a happy, sugary cloud, so perhaps Charlotte’s rejection of me had begun then and I had just simply ignored it. We’d shared no classes for the rest of the day, and at lunch time, I encountered Claudia outside the music room and we stayed there, on the steps, talking about waffles and music. Claudia did not like the same singers as Charlotte. She said she preferred music that was “alternative”. When she asked what I liked, I replied that I liked folk music, as I had a vague recollection of banjos and violins. ‘Oh, you mean like Bob Dylan?’ she said. I nodded, since it was less embarrassing to lie than have to look a fool once more for not knowing.

I enjoyed talking to Claudia. She wasn’t as fun and silly as Rhiannah and her friends, but she was amiable and kind. She made me feel welcome.

The next morning, I walked into the cafeteria alone; Rhiannah was already gone when I woke up. A note pinned to the back of our bedroom door read: ‘Off for an early morning walk with H & S. See you in class later. Enjoy brekkie. Bacon and eggs. Mmmmmmm. R.’

As I walked towards the cafeteria I was intoxicated by a heady smell of frying food. By the time I entered, my mouth had begun to water and I found myself smiling giddily. I did love breakfast.

I walked over to the cafeteria matron, Mrs Butcher, and asked for a plate.

‘How would you like your eggs, dear?’ she asked.

‘Just there, please,’ I said, pointing at the small space on my plate that wasn’t taken by bacon or toast.

Mrs Butcher laughed. ‘You’re funny, sweetie. I meant do you want them fried, poached or scrambled?’

‘Oh,’ I said, feeling my face redden. I hadn’t been trying to be funny. ‘Fried, please,’ I mumbled.

I took my tray and scanned the cafeteria for somewhere to sit. My eyes caught Charlotte’s table and I began moving towards it. The girls all looked up and stared at me. Claudia smiled and I smiled back. Then I saw Inga jab Claudia in the ribs.

By the time I reached their table, I knew I had made a mistake. There was just something about their
eyes
, Connolly. And there was a smell in the air. A smell of aggression.

Still, I couldn’t simply turn and walk away, so I said, ‘May I sit here? Charlotte?’

Charlotte’s eyes seemed paler than yesterday. Icier. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘You made your decision. You chose those other girls. The
ferals.
You can’t have it both ways.’

‘Oh,’ I said, because I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I felt humiliated.

‘You had every opportunity to do the right thing,’ Inga said. ‘You were lucky. Not every girl who starts here gets a free pass into our group. You had an advantage and you stuffed up. Big time.’

‘We can’t be seen associating with someone who also associates with
them
. It would ruin our reputations,’ Amy added, a hint of a smug smile tugging her glossy lips upwards.

I looked from one girl to the next. A voice inside my head said,
Walk away. Save your energy for when the fight is worth it.

And, I reasoned, when I have a chance of winning.

‘Okay, well, enjoy your breakfast,’ I said and made to walk away. A moment later I found myself hurtling forwards, eggs and juice cascading into the air and all over my uniform. Something … or
someone
had tripped me.

‘Oops,’ said Kelly, giggling. ‘That really was an accident.’

Later, after mathematics class, I was leaving the room when I heard Laurel’s voice call out, ‘Tessa!’

‘Yes?’ I said, turning around to face her, expecting to see her smiling her usual daffy smile at me. Instead, her face was serious.

‘Turn around,’ she said. I did so, curiously. I felt a scraping sensation on my back and immediately grew fearful.

My scars.

She touched my scars.

‘What are you doing?’ I exclaimed, wheeling around. My scars felt as though red hot pokers were pressed against them.

Laurel held out a small square of yellow paper. On it was the word ‘Freak’.

‘What … is it for? What does it
mean
?’

‘Amy put it on your back,’ Laurel sighed. ‘She does that sometimes. It’s stupid. She thinks it’s funny. Don’t worry about her. She’s a stupid, giant troll, and she has pimples on her back. I saw them at swimming carnival. Come on. Let’s get out of here.’

I looked behind me to Charlotte and her friends. They were all cackling as though someone had told them the funniest joke ever. Except Claudia. Claudia looked at me with an expression on her face that seemed to be a mixture of guilt and pity. But she hadn’t stopped Amy, had she? She hadn’t come after me and warned me.

She was scared, I realised. Scared of Charlotte. Scared of being made an outcast, like I was.

Laurel and I walked towards our lockers.

I could tell from several yards away that there was something different about my locker. Instead of the plain, shiny metal that was usually its facade, it now had slashes of bold red adorning it. My pace quickened and I soon found myself at my locker, reading the words ‘Tessa Connolly is an untouchable’.

‘What does that mean?’ I asked Laurel.

‘It means you crossed them,’ she said. ‘It’s happened to all of us. You cross Charlotte’s royal court, you’re untouchable. It means none of the other girls are allowed to be friends with you.’

I remembered what Harriet had told me:
‘Don’t mess with the in-crowd or they will mess you back.’

I felt tears prickle at my eyes. ‘So you and Erin, and Rhiannah and Harriet and Sara … you won’t be friends with me any more?’

Laurel finally smiled. ‘Oh, no.
We
can still be mates with you,’ she said. ‘We’re untouchables too.’

It was a comfort, Connolly, but still, I felt nauseated and guilty. I thought you would be disappointed in me. You wanted me to do well at school, and be friends with Charlotte, and I had failed.

‘Come on, Tess,’ said Laurel, seeing my miserable expression. ‘It’s not so bad. You’ve still got us. And you don’t want to be friends with those cows anyway. They’ll suck the life out of you. Stick with us freaks and you’ll have a much better time.’

I smiled at Laurel. She was right. I did have a better time with her, and with Rhiannah’s gang, than I had with Charlotte and her friends. Perhaps this ‘untouchable’ business was for the best.

‘That’s the spirit,’ said Laurel. ‘Now, come with me. I have a stash of doughnuts in my room. They cure all.’

You didn’t warn me about this, Connolly.

I’m not mad at you. You had so much to think about; so much to remember to tell me about that I don’t blame you for forgetting this. And, besides, you probably assumed I would know.

After all, it’s
my
body.

I
didn’t
know, though. I didn’t know that my body would do this.

We were in history – one of the classes that Rhiannah and I shared. We were learning about Tasmania in colonial times, and I had just surprised Mr Beagle (and myself), by remembering that the first name for Tasmania was Van Diemen’s Land, and that the colony was named after Anthony Van Diemen, who was the Governor-General of the Dutch East Indies. He was the one who sent the explorer, Abel Tasman, on his voyage of discovery in 1642, and so Tasman named Van Diemen’s Land in his honour.

I didn’t know how much my teachers had been told about my lost memory. I supposed they must have been told something, so I would not be unfairly penalised in class.

My classmates knew only that I had been through a trauma, though they didn’t know the nature of it. Ms Hindmarsh and I had a long conversation about how much to tell the other students. She knew most of what had happened (the parts you and I knew, anyway), and she wanted to know how much I wanted made public.

‘I think we should tell them I am an orphan and that I was in hospital,’ I said, after thinking for a few moments. ‘But I think I don’t want them to know about my memory. And I don’t want them to know I was found on the mountain, in the
condition
I was in.’

‘That’s probably for the best,’ said Ms Hindmarsh, smiling. ‘We wouldn’t want the girls to panic, thinking there is an attacker out there – not that I think that’s what happened to you. I just know how quickly hysteria can spread with those girls. And the parents. We don’t want parents to think that this is an unsafe place to send their girls. Cascade Falls is a very safe place for girls …’

Ms Hindmarsh’s voice trailed off and her eyes became dreamy and wistful. I thought, not for the first time, that while she seemed effervescent and jolly on the outside, there were worlds inside Ms Hindmarsh that were very well hidden.

She cleared her throat. ‘I know you know about Cat Connolly,’ she said. ‘And while her disappearance was, oh … just horrible for all of us, I wouldn’t want you to think that this school was at fault, Tessa. Nobody knows exactly what happened that day, but it wasn’t our fault.’

I wondered who Ms Hindmarsh was trying to convince. Me or herself.

Ms Hindmarsh continued. ‘I think it’s a really sensible idea to tell your classmates you have been in hospital. ‘It will help them understand you.’

I agreed with her. I wanted to be understood.

I had seen some of them giving me curious looks. I suppose they were wondering about the exact nature of my ordeal.

But none of them knew about my memory.

That became obvious when I answered Mr Beagle’s question and none of them looked surprised or even very interested.

But Mr Beagle did. Or, at the very least, he looked
curious.

When I found out Mr Beagle was to be my history teacher, I was somewhat anxious. I remembered his grouchiness towards Laurel and Erin on the day I arrived at Cascade Falls.

In class, he still seemed grumpy most of the time, but not so very scary.

He was still wearing the same tweed suit as far as I could tell, unless he had a wardrobe full of tweed suits, and I noticed it sagged slightly at the knees and elbows. It looked quite threadbare and, as I looked at Mr Beagle’s ruddy face and tired eyes, I noticed that
he
looked a bit threadbare, too, and a bit saggy. He looked like a popped balloon, and I wondered what had been the pin that had made him deflate.

He had spent much of the lesson looking at his desk, or the book in his hand, or the floor. He looked up, briefly, when others answered his questions, but he seemed almost bored by their answers and simply nodded as acknowledgement and then returned his attention to the book. When I answered the question, however, his eyes fixed on me, and he inclined his head to one side thoughtfully. ‘So you haven’t …’ he began. Then he shook his head and said, ‘Well done, Tessa. Did everybody hear Tessa’s answer?’

Twenty-nine girls shook their heads. Beside me, Rhiannah nodded.

I felt a warm glow knowing that Rhiannah had heard my answer; she cared enough about me to listen, when my other classmates obviously found the lesson too dull to bother.

‘Tessa, can you repeat what you just said?’ said Mr Beagle.

‘The first name for Tasmania was –’ I began.

That’s when I felt it.

Between my legs. Wet and hot.

And in my belly, a pang like a branch being snapped.

‘What’s wrong, Tessa?’ asked Mr Beagle.

‘Nothing, nothing,’ I said, feeling my face reddening.

‘Then finish what you were saying. Go on. The first name for Tasmania was …’

‘Van Diemen’s Land. Named after Anthony van Diemen, Governor-General of the Dutch East Indies, who was the one who sent Abel Tasman, on his voyage in 1642. Mr Beagle, may I please be excused for a few moments?’ I said very quickly.

Mr Beagle narrowed his eyes, and I could see his mouth starting to form the word ‘no’.

‘Mr Beagle, I don’t think Tessa’s very well.’ I turned around to see Rhiannah looking at me, a concerned expression on her face. ‘You know she’s just been in hospital. I think she should go to the sick room. I can take her, if you like.’

‘Is that true, Tessa?’ asked Mr Beagle, his face turning from grouchy to something close to concern. ‘You’re ill?’

I nodded. ‘I’m not quite … right,’ I said, which was true.

Something was happening. And it
wasn’t
quite right.

Mr Beagle rubbed at his wrinkled forehead and grumbled, ‘All right, then. But, Rhiannah, I want
you
at least to be back before the end of the lesson, okay?’

Rhiannah nodded quickly and said, ‘Of course, Mr Beagle.’

As we walked out, I could feel Charlotte and her friends watching me again.

I sneaked a glance at her and chanced a small smile. Her top lip curled up in a way that was definitely not smiling. Next to her, Inga rolled her eyes and whispered something in Charlotte’s ear that sounded very much like, ‘You were so lucky to get rid of her, Charlotte. She’s a freak.’

I felt my cheeks burn with shame.

Charlotte and her friends hated me
and
they thought I was a freak. And they didn’t even know everything. They didn’t even know the
really
freakish parts.

A few moments later, in the corridor, Rhiannah grabbed my arm and said, ‘So, what’s the matter, Tessa? Are we actually going to the sick room?’

‘I thought that’s where you were taking me,’ I replied, confused. That’s where Rhiannah had just
told
Mr Beagle she was taking me.

‘If that’s where you
need
to go, then that’s where I’m taking you,’ she said. ‘Do you feel a migraine coming on, or the flu or whatever?’

‘The flu?’

Another word I hadn’t heard before.

Rhiannah put her palm on my forehead. ‘No temperature,’ she said. ‘Are you achy? Is your throat sore? Does your head hurt?’

I thought of my back, which was still throbbing. I didn’t think that was the kind of ache that Rhiannah was talking about, and I didn’t think I had any of the other symptoms, so I shook my head. ‘No.’

‘Then you probably don’t have the flu. Worst luck for you. The flu gets you out of a whole week of school. Sometimes they even send you home, and if they don’t you get total star treatment. Ice cream and soup and lemon tea delivered straight to your room. You should’ve got flu.’

The way Rhiannah talked about it, I almost wished I
did
have this ‘flu’, even though the symptoms sounded quite horrid.

If it meant ice cream.

If it meant going home, which would mean, I supposed, going to you, Connolly, in Sandy Bay. I would still really have liked to do that.

‘It’s …’ I began, and then I didn’t know how to finish. My face felt all hot again. I didn’t know how to tell Rhiannah that my sickness was
down there.

‘You can
tell
me, Tess!’ Rhiannah said, rolling her eyes. ‘Seriously, I’m the girl who had to wear an eye patch for three weeks because I got a piece of bark in my eye and it got infected and everybody called me “Jack Sparrow”. Embarrassing medical complaints I can handle, okay?’

‘It’s … wetness,’ I said, finally, feeling a wave of relief crash over me at having finally said it. ‘Between my legs.’

‘You got your period?’ Rhiannah’s voice was quieter now.

I didn’t know what to say. Did I have my ‘period’? I wasn’t sure. I did not recognise the word. So I just nodded. If that was the word that Rhiannah gave to what was happening to me, then that’s what was happening.

‘Well, why didn’t you just say so?’ asked Rhiannah. Then, her eyes widened. ‘It’s not your first one, is it?’

I nodded. Even though I wasn’t really sure. The wetness was beginning to feel familiar, but I still did not know what to do about it.

‘Whoa. Okay, that’s pretty late for a first period. But I guess everyone’s different. Okay, no sick bay for you. Let’s skedaddle to the ladies’. By an absolutely fabulous coincidence, I too am surfing the crimson wave, so I can be of assistance in the cleaning up department. What, don’t look at me like that! Yuck! I mean that I have tampons. You’re saved. Let’s get out of here.’

Just when I thought I was finally beginning to understand this new life I found myself in!

Periods.

Crimson waves.

Tampons.

So many words I did not know.

But I trusted Rhiannah, so I said, ‘Yes, please, let’s go.’