All I Ever Wanted (7 page)

‘Let's go in my room. It's cooler. Do you want some pizza?' I put the slices on a tray. In my head, I'm trying to remember if I made my bed or put my dirty washing in the basket. Neither is likely.

When Kate sees my bedroom, she stares.

Another thing I don't notice. Mum uses every corner in the house to stash her impulse buys. Most of my room looks like a second-hand goods store. Boxed stuff and bagged stuff and useless things that she's forgotten as soon as they're home because it's the actual point-of-sale buzz that she's really after. Blenders, juicers, toasters, even a microwave oven. Clothing with the tags on, Easter eggs, Christmas decorations and kids' toys. And dolls, thirty or forty of them, with vacant eyes and faces pale as cadavers. Based on my own confession about my family's reputation, Kate must be thinking we run a sideline in stolen goods.

The only corner that's really mine has my bed, a three-legged bedside table and a dressing table with a mirrorless frame. I still have the Eiffel Tower quilt cover from my eleventh birthday and an original lava lamp that was Mum's when she was a teenager. A World globe with a skewer stuck through it hangs above my bed by a strand of fishing-line. The opposite corner is empty, but there's a smoke-blackened stain that flares up to the ceiling, like a ghost, from when Tahnee and I set a toaster on fire after a night out. Only my bookcase stands new and straight and tall, everything at right angles, each book in its place. Apart from that, there's not a lot to say who lives here.

‘I know, it's a bit much, isn't it?'

Kate laughs. A real belly laugh. It keeps on going and she sits down on my bed, pressing her side. She's got her eyes closed and her legs clamped together and I don't think she can stop.

I stare at her. ‘Are you drunk?' Crazy, more like it.

She shakes her head, still laughing. ‘Oh, God,' she says, wiping away tears with the back of her hand.

It was a mistake to let her in. Heat sears my cheeks and I cross my arms over my chest. I shouldn't have opened the door.

‘I'm sorry. It's just…' She stops. ‘I just think we have a lot in common, that's all.' She grabs a piece of pizza and chews with her hand over her mouth.

‘Like?'

‘Like being stuck somewhere where everything else fits, but you don't. I mean, I imagined you having a room that was more like…you.'

‘Like me.'

‘Yeah. You know, a bit rock-chick. Sassy. A bit more…confident.'

‘You've got me all wrong.' I shake my head.

‘Maybe. But you always seem like you've got it all together. I mean, at school, you're, like, untouchable.'

It's my turn to laugh. I've hidden behind the force field of Matt and Dill's reputation for years. To some extent, in such a rough school, I'm unscathed. Even Tahnee's breezed through, despite starting out with knobby knees, braces and a concave chest. A free pass by association.

‘Look at this stuff!' She runs a greasy finger along the spines of my books. ‘Shakespeare, Hardy, Chaucer, Ibsen. You're a closet reader,' she accuses.

‘I stole them from the library,' I lie through a mouthful of pizza.

‘You did not.' Kate picks up my lava lamp and blinks at me through the red liquid. ‘What does this do?' She tips it sideways and a few chunks of cold wax float to the surface.

‘Doesn't work,' I say. ‘Never has.'

She shakes the lamp like a snow dome until something metallic clinks inside. ‘Oops. Sorry. I've broken it.'

‘It was already broken,' I remind her. I take it and set it back on my bedside table. ‘Hey, can I ask you something?' ‘Shoot.' She sits cross-legged on my bed.

‘You could go to a better school. It looks like your parents could afford it. Why do they send you to that hole?'

‘My dad thinks I should go to a public school because he did, and he did okay. He's all about succeeding in spite of the odds.'

‘That's a bit screwed up.'

‘Yeah. That was his theory until Jordan went off the rails. Now he's reconsidering.'

The blood in my veins goes from a steady
whump
to a rush.

‘What do you mean?'

‘Well, Jordan's deferred his place at uni and he's running around with some guy called Brant Welles. He doesn't come home much. Mum's freaking out and they're watching me all the time.'

I know Brant Welles. He used to hang with the boys until he screwed them over and they had to teach him a lesson. Maybe he's over-confident now that the boys are locked up. It makes sense. He could have known about the pick-up. He probably told Jordan where I lived.

‘Do you know my brother? He went to our school.'

‘I know
of
him.' It's almost the truth.

‘Well, it's inconvenient that he's just gone off the rails because that's exactly what I was planning on doing. Look.'

She pulls a piece of paper out of her purse and unfolds it. The creases are soft and furry and I wonder how many times she's looked at it.

‘What's that?'

‘A design. It's a treble clef, in a kind of Celtic style. I want to get a tattoo. What do you think?'

I look at her in her denim shorts that come to her knees. They have pleats down the front because somebody who loves her irons her clothes. She has a ponytail, for God's sake. No piercings. I bet she carries a photo of her parents in her purse.

‘I think if you're planning on going off the rails you need something a bit tougher than a treble clef.' Her whole body sags and I feel bad for her. She tucks the piece of paper away.

‘Hey. Give me your purse.'

Her eyes bulge, but she hands it over.

‘Relax. I'm not mugging you.' I flick through the compartments, but besides a library card, a few receipts, a twenty and the photocopy, there's nothing else there. No photo of her parents. I hand it back.

‘Okay.'

‘Okay, what?'

‘I'll take you. You would have gone to Ink Inc. Wouldn't you? That place near the pizza shop. You'll get a grotty needle and an extra feel from a dirty old biker with stinky pits. I'll take you somewhere with a better reputation.'

She looks shocked and I know that's exactly what she was planning. A slow, wobbly smile spreads across her face. ‘Really? You'll go with me? When?'

Yeah, I'll go with her. Hanging out with Kate might take me a step closer to where I want to be. Closer to Jordan? Closer to getting back the package? If only it was clear to me which I want more.

‘I'll come past your place tomorrow at eleven.'

I walk with Kate for a block or two to make sure she's okay. Just to protect my interests. When I get back to the house, Mum's there. Her recyclable bags are by the door, empty.

‘Where've you been? I haven't seen you for two days. I was worried,' I say.

‘Really?' she asks, one eyebrow up like a wing in flight. ‘Were you really, Mim? You're not actually telling me that you missed me?''

‘Of course,' I lie. The truth is, I breathe better when she's not around.

NINE

I've forgotten my half-promise to Tahnee and when she arrives I'm not ready. Ryan's car idles in the driveway until Mum yells at him to turn it off because he's messing with her reception.

Tahnee stands with her hands on her hips while I try to zip the dress back up. It's even tighter now that I've scarfed half a pizza and a can of lemonade. She tuts and hisses over the state of my hair.

‘There's no time to straighten it. You've had since, like, three o'clock. Here, put on some lipstick. What have you been doing?'

I don't tell her about Kate. She wouldn't get it. I don't really want to go out. I need to feed Gargoyle and there's no way I can duck out to the shed without her following. Tahnee's always curious about the shed, like she expects there to be a busy little lab in there run by serious men in white coats. She knows everything, but she thinks there's more.

‘Hurry up, Ryan's waiting. Don't you dare put on those thongs.'

‘I don't have anything else. Thongs and sneakers, that's it. You know that.'

‘Fine, if you want to look like you're going to the beach.'

‘Geez, it's a bonfire and beer with a bunch of guys who'll stand around checking out each other's exhaust pipes. Not the Academy Awards.'

I love our brainless banter. We're way past being polite to each other, the way new friends are.

‘Okay, done. You're going to wish you made more of an effort, though.'

‘You're going to wish you didn't lend me this dress when it splits.'

‘Breathe in and don't sit down,' she says.

‘Be home later,' I yell out to Mum, but she doesn't answer. She doesn't care anyway. She tells me often enough that I should let loose. Be normal.

For a couple of reasons, I try not to let my bum touch the back seat of Ryan's car: one, I can't sit fully because the dress won't let me; two, this is where they did it. Ryan's okay, but he's been around. He's twenty, good-looking and he has a hot car, so you can't tell me that one of those blue fluorescent forensic things wouldn't show up a whole lot of DNA.

The car has bucket seats, but Tahnee sits in the middle with her butt half on the console. She laughs at everything he says and he keeps one hand on her thigh, only letting go to change gear. Tahnee lets him slide his fingers between her legs and traps them there. The engine screams in third.

It's like I'm not even there. I stare out of the window.

When we get to the park, the bonfire's going already. It's a total fire-ban day and the flames are too high and too obvious, but the pyros keep piling on sticks. There are only a few other girls. They're dressed for cocktails and I can feel their assessment, then their dismissal. A guy from school called Cody Ellis is dragging half a tree over to the bonfire. He heaves it onto the fire and the pine needles go up with a whoosh, sending a spray of sparks over the girls. They shriek and cover their hair.

Tahnee nudges me. ‘What about Cody? He's hot.'

I laugh and she looks pained.

‘Yeah, right. Ugh,' I slap my chest with my fist. ‘I'm Cody Ellis, bringer of fire. All he needs is a loincloth. He already has a monobrow.'

Tahnee smiles but it doesn't reach her eyes.

I was right. Mostly the guys are swaggering around each other's cars, kicking tyres and popping bonnets. Pulling out dipsticks. Swigging beer.

A circle of logs rings the fire. Packets of marshmallows and chips are spread out over a card table. It reminds me of a school camp except I hardly know anyone here. Some faces are familiar but I doubt I've ever held a conversation with any of them. Last year two of my friends, Peta and Meaghann, left school and slunk off with loser boyfriends and menial jobs. I heard Peta was pregnant. I got a Christmas message from Meaghann but I suspected it was just a text-dump and I never replied.

Tahnee sits with me for a while. She's drinking beer, then vodka, then some sickly-looking punch one of the girls has mixed up in a plastic bowl. I get up for a drink.

‘Hi. Did you make this?' I ask the punch girl, to make conversation. I scoop a tiny bit into a plastic cup and say, ‘Mmmm.'

The girl gives me a wary look, then moves around to the other side of the fire.

Tahnee's in her element, flitting around in her heels with her streaky blonde hair slick and rippling. I sit on a log further away from the fire but my legs splay out and I feel overdressed, like a chambermaid in a ball gown.

There's a smell like disinfectant, mixed in with the smoke. The guys are chucking on pine cones that crackle and spit. Dead embers land in my hair and eyelashes and the smoke follows me wherever I stand. I grab a handful of pink marshmallows and try to toast them on a stick. The fire's too hot and they burn. Pink ooze pours over my fingers and, when I brush my hair away from my stinging eyes, it sticks to the strands.

As the sun goes down, Tahnee gets drunker. Sculls whatever she can get her hands on. I almost envy her abandon, her ability just to let it all go. She keeps skipping tracks on Ryan's CD player. Every time, someone yells at her to leave it. The dark disorients me, like a drug, and I'm glad I didn't drink the punch.

Another car pulls up. The throb of the engine is familiar, like my own heartbeat. It's him, I know it. I feel like a rabbit in a spotlight and, for a few seconds, I freeze. Jordan gets out of his car and heads straight over to a group of guys with a beaten-up Skyline.

I let my hair fall over my face and watch him. He still makes me sweat. He's tall and lean and lovely, all that and a brain. It's such a shame he has no integrity. Love and hate make a strange cocktail.

‘Tahnee, can we go home now?' I yell over the music, knowing the answer.

Her vision must be blurred but she spots him and a sneaky smile spreads over her face. ‘Ha, ha,' she says. ‘Told you. You should have made more of an effort. Geez, Mim you look like shit.' She sways like it's windy.

‘Thanks. Can we go now?'

‘No way. Now's your chance, chicken. Go on, give him a kiss.'

I'm thankful for the music because her voice is loud and the other girls stare. I've never seen her like this. We've always been a double-act but tonight she's so… separate and out of control. Before I can stop her, Tahnee staggers over to Jordan. She leans in, even as he backs away, hands in pockets, and in slow motion his eyes turn to drill mine. He nods and smiles at her, the way a sober guy does to a drunk girl.

I've only ever had a hangover once. The feeling's the same. The sense of impending doom, the feeling like rats gnawing at my stomach, the grate of my eyelids when I blink.

Tahnee grins and gives me a thumbs-up as if she's done me a favour. She launches herself at Ryan and they fall to the ground. The rest of the boys cheer because they know he's on a sure thing.