Faking Sweet (11 page)

Would she get to the point? My arm was beginning to ache and I was suddenly feeling overloaded with information.

‘Well, I was wondering, Holly, if it's not too much trouble that is, would you be able to help me, just a bit, with the Don John profile?'

‘Um.' I couldn't exactly say, ‘Excuse me, I just need to confer with Calypso on that matter.' And I was hardly up to trusting my own judgement. The Sarah Finch thing had me floored. And now, why was Jess being so pleasant? Perhaps the cleaning fumes had got to her too, 'cause I couldn't think straight.

‘What do they say Don John is again?' Jess giggled. ‘You see I can't even remember that, and it's the whole point of the assignment. Isn't it?'

‘“A plain-dealing villain”,' I said as I threw the brush in the bucket. ‘That's what he's called in the play.' I went to the window. Fresh air. That'd help.

‘And that's what we're meant to be writing our profile on – a plain-dealing villain?' asked Jess.

I nodded.

‘Are you okay, Holly?' Jess asked. ‘You've gone kind of pale. It's the cleaning stuff, isn't it? It stinks. You sit down. I'll scrub the benches and you talk to me about Don John. That's fair.'

‘Thanks.' I really didn't want to be grateful but I couldn't help it. I stood by the window and took in slow, deep breaths while I watched the last of the students wander out the gates.

‘Have you started the assignment?' I asked.

‘Not yet,' Jess answered, ‘'cause I didn't really understand what we were meant to do.'

Discussing the Don John thing during detention was surely not breaking any rules. In fact, if anything it stopped us from having friendly chat, which was probably more against the rules.

‘The key lines Mrs Gideon wants us to look at are when Don John describes himself as not a flattering honest man but a plain-dealing villain,' I told her. ‘See, Don John hates Don Pedro, his brother. Actually I think Don John hates pretty much everyone. But the one he wants to get is Don Pedro.'

‘Why? What did Don Pedro do?'

‘Nothing, really, except that he's powerful and popular, I s'pose.'

‘You're good at this, Holly. You even remember the lines.'

Yeah, well, when you don't have a social life there's enough time to memorise the entire works of Shakespeare. Of course I didn't say that.

‘It's just kind of obvious,' I said instead.

‘But Mrs Gideon doesn't want us to talk about Don John.'

‘No. She wants us to make up our own character.'

‘Didn't she say it had to be someone who was jealous and scheming?'

‘Yeah, but it doesn't have to be a real person.'

‘Oh, I know a real person,' Jess uttered. ‘One I could write a hundred pages on.'

‘Really?'

I pulled down the window and locked it. My veins were pumping. We were entering dangerous territory.

‘She used to go to this school.'

‘Oh?'

‘She lives in Melbourne now. Actually she went to MLG after she left here.'

‘Really.'

It was like we were walking slowly towards each other.

‘You two must've been together last term. Is MLG very big? Maybe you met her?'

‘Maybe.'

‘Her name's Calypso MacIntosh.'

‘Yeah.' My mouth was so dry it was hard to speak. ‘Yeah, I met her.'

 

‘You're home late, dear,' Mum called from the couch.

‘I got a detention,' I told her. ‘Me and another girl.'

‘Who was the other girl? A new friend?' Mum followed me into the kitchen. ‘What was it for?'

‘Sitting in an area I didn't know was out of bounds.' That's all Mum needed to know. ‘I need to ring Calypso. And no, she's not a new friend.'

‘Oh.'

‘Far from it,' I whispered, taking an apple and the phone.

‘Are you using the landline, Holly? You're not out of credit again, are you?'

‘Calls to Melbourne gobble up the credit, Mum.'

‘Honestly, you and Calypso should get married.'

‘Mum, that's off!'

‘Don't be long. You know how your father loves to examine the phone bills.'

‘Why can't he be glad that I finally have a friend? A real friend.' The cleaning fumes on top of my empty tummy had made me cranky. ‘He was the one who dragged us here when he knew I was happy and settled in Melbourne.'

‘Of course your father's pleased you have a friend. He's relieved.'

‘Well, tell him not to nag about the phone bills then.' I slammed the door of my bedroom. ‘Oooooooh,' I moaned. I felt like I had little ants crawling inside my head. Furiously I rubbed at my hair to make them stop.

Lots of things were making me cross this arvo. Like why hadn't Calypso answered any of my texts, and how come she got the story with Sarah Finch so wrong?

I dialled Calypso's home number. I wasn't going to try her mobile for the sixty-sixth time this afternoon. I did have some pride.

 

‘Hello?'

‘Is that Tiffany?' Tiffany was Calypso's painful little sister.

‘No, it's Chazzy.'

‘Chazzy?'

Chazzy, or Charlotte, was a girl from MLG. ‘Yeah. Who's this?'

‘It's Holly. Holly Hankinson. Remember me?'

‘Oh yeah. Hi, Holly.'

‘Is Calypso there?'

‘She's out.'

‘Oh?'

‘She's getting stuff for the party.'

Suddenly the ants in my head stopped in their tracks. Calypso's party. I had forgotten all about it.

‘Oh yeah,' I faked. ‘That's tonight, isn't it?'

‘It's going to be so great.'

‘What are you doing there?'

‘Helping.'

‘When will she be back?' I asked. ‘I have to speak to her.'

‘Dunno,' Chazzy sighed. ‘Soon.' She paused. ‘Hey, are you coming to the party?'

‘I live in Sydney now.'

‘Oh.'

‘Yeah.'

‘The party's a come-as-your-dream-occupation party.'

‘Really?'

Chazzy began to giggle. ‘Calypso's going as Rachel Bilson. You know, from
The OC
. Like that's her dream occupation – to be on TV, I mean.'

‘She looks a bit like her.'

‘So what's it like living in Sydney?'

‘Look, Chazzy, I really need to speak to Calypso.'

‘Got it the first time,' she groaned. ‘I'll tell her, but I think she'll be way too busy to call you back tonight.'

Now the ants had turned into elephants. They were thumping and thundering through my brain. How come Calypso and Chazzy and whoever else got to have a great night? Actually it was even better than a great night for Calypso. It was her own party. Her own come-as-your-dream-occupation party and I SHOULD'VE BEEN THERE!

It was hard to stay mad with Calypso; even when she was being bossy and obsessing over her revenge plan and all the dumb details. And it was hard to stay mad with her even when she'd had a party without me.

I crawled back into bed and finished reading Mum's
New Idea
mag I'd pinched from her last night. Page seven had a story I was interested in: ‘The Downside of Being a Celebrity: our favourite stars reveal their secrets to long-distance relationships'.

What all the stars said you needed in a long-distance relationship was ‘trust'. Trust was the only thing that made lengthy separations possible.

I read the article three times 'cause they described exactly the same things Calypso and I had to deal with. Calypso was in Melbourne and I was in Sydney. I couldn't see what she was doing 24-7 and she couldn't see me either. Trust: that was all we had.

I cut out the article and stuck it on some cardboard. The next time I was feeling pissed off with Calypso and thinking she was having a great time while I was stuck here doing her dirty work, I'd look at it. It would remind me what separated a real friendship from the plastic ones: trust. I propped the story next to the computer and immediately started to feel better. Besides, Calypso and I would have plenty more parties.