Feeling Sorry for Celia (31 page)

Dear Elizabeth,

No, we’re sorry but we can’t help.

We’re way too frightened. We can’t help with what you should wear or how you should act or ANYTHING.

You should try asking Christina.

Yours with regret,

The Young Romance Society

PS But let us know how it goes, won’t you?

Dear Christina,

I’ll send this when we get back to school, which will be too late to be any use, but I can’t think of an alternative.

I’m completely confused. Jared just asked me out tonight. For a start, I’m confused because I thought he must HATE me by now. I mean, I didn’t say a single word to him last night. And then he left early this morning so it was like proof: I messed up my chances.

Anyway, for whatever crazy reason, he must still like me – but if I was too scared to talk to him last night with other people around, I’ll be a wreck tonight. He’ll say one word and I’ll collapse into a coma on the floor.

And what should I wear? And what should I do with my hair? And what if –

Actually, wait a minute. This is ridiculous. I’m going to phone you.

Dear Elizabeth,

Well.

Welcome home.

Stand at the doorway and watch the car disappear down the drive; watch as its blinkers flash from the corner; listen as it turns and fades into the distance.

THAT was a success.

Look at yourself in the hallway mirror now – you DO look beautiful. The green in the earrings brings out the green in your eyes; the lipstick matches the crimson in your top.

Look at your hand as you clean your teeth, Elizabeth – look, you see that hand? You see how he held that hand, how he took that hand just as you left the theatre.

For three and a half minutes he held your hand. (After that, his mother was waving at you from the Exit door and drove you both home. But still.)

Close your eyes as you slip your nightie over your head, Elizabeth – remember how you talked right through the previews stopping just in time for the movie to start?

Remember how he apologised for all his anonymous notes, and how you made him promise never to apologise again, and how you made him smile by telling him you couldn’t have survived without those notes.

And remember how you both admitted you were too nervous to speak to each other at the party, but you had a great time anyway, just knowing the other was there?

We think he’s going to ask you out again.

In fact, we don’t just think it. We’re absolutely sure.

Sleep well.

Love,

The Young Romance Society

Dearest Elizabeth and Christina,

By the time you get this we will be in hiding. We are writing to you two because we love you, plus because we are so glad that you brought us together. Your party was fantastic – it was like a turning point for us. Because we discovered that we all have exactly the same goal. None of us can bear this monotonous suburban hell a moment longer and we have set out to fulfil that goal.

This is what our dream is – to go to New York and be EXPLOSIVE. To make ourselves FAMOUS. So we came up with the idea that we should hang-glide off the Empire State Building. (Maddie knows how to hang-glide, Saxon has the money to buy gliders, and Ricky knows someone who works at the Empire State Building who he says will help us avoid security.)

It might seem impossible but we have some unexpected ammunition up our sleeves and the fact is, we are going to do it. We have to be in hiding now to plan but as soon as we can manage it, we
’
re flying to New York, and then we
’
re really going to FLY.

Watch the American news on Saturday night, a fortnight from now. We
’
ll be on it.

Love always,

Celiaon

behalf of, and together with,

Celia and Saxon,

Maddie and Ricky

Dear Mum,

Sony I’m not here to welcome you home. I’m doing a long run because the Forest Hill Half Marathon is next Saturday.

I hope you had a nice retreat from the riots of your life. Here’s a new riot.

Celia and Saxon have run away again – and this time they’ve taken Maddie and Ricky with them.

Guess what else? They’re planning to fly to New York and hang-glide off the Empire State Building.

We just had a Major Emergency Meeting at Christina’s place – Celia’s mother, Saxon’s parents, Maddie’s parents (Christina’s Uncle Rosco and Auntie Belinda), Dad and his wife (I finally got to meet her – I’ll tell you all about it later), Christina’s parents, Christina’s grandparents, Christina’s great-grandparents, Christina’s second-cousins – all sitting around Christina’s living room eating coconut slice and drinking tea.

At first, most of the grown-ups thought it was ridiculous and of course they’d never get as far as the airport.

Then Celia’s mother put her hand in the air and said, ‘I’d like to make a contribution here’. Then she started to list all the extraordinary things Celia has done in her life.

Then Maddie’s mother put HER hand in the air and said,
‘Well, come to think of it, listen to some of the hijinks MADDIE’S got up to before – you think becoming a trapeze artist is bad? Our Maddie has slid down drain pipes from a tenth floor apartment and hitchhiked to central Australia!’

After that everyone had their hand in the air, and every one was talking at once. It became a kind of contest between parents, all wanting to prove how much more adventurous and dare-devil
their
kids were (and with Saxon’s mother demanding the police or a lawyer because she blamed everything on Celia’s mother and thinks she should be arrested).

Then Dad pointed out that Ricky knows New York quite well because they often go on family trips there from Canada.

Christina’s great-grandmother said, well they might be young larrikins but they’ll never afford the cost of four airfares to New York.

Saxon’s father said that actually Saxon has a tidy little inheritance which he can access whenever he wants.

Celia’s mother said, ‘If your son has paid for Celia to fly to New York, then you’d better keep an eye on that lawyer of yours because
I’m
retaining him to wipe you out.’

Dad said that Ricky
also
has quite a nifty amount of money in an off-shore account, and I had to put up my hand to say, excuse me but why don’t I have quite a nifty amount of money in an off-shore account?

Then there was a lot of talk about whether they had passports, and where they might stay, and who exactly was going to let them up the Empire State Building with a hang-glider.

Christina and I thought we should just leave them alone and they’d come home in a week with their hang-gliders trailing between their legs.

But there was too much hysteria for that. The parents were determined that they should be stopped (even Celia’s mother) and the only issue was how. So it was all arranged. For the next two weeks, everybody is going to help to try and find them. We’re going to search the city and warn the airlines and guard the airports. And then, if we don’t find them in time, Dad and Uncle Rosco (that’s Maddie’s father) are going to fly to New York and stake out the Empire State Building. Dad’s already bought the tickets – he did his Big Man at the Airline thing, kind of coolly showing off about how he can get tickets for practically nothing. Uncle Rosco didn’t seem that impressed.

See you soon.

Love,

Elizabeth

Elizabeth!

What are you doing RUNNING IN THE FOREST HILL HALF MARATHON?

Run away! Run away from this madness! Escape these crowds of runners!

Join the Search Party as they hunt alleyways and camping grounds, scour airports, phone airlines, beg policemen to take them seriously – help them track down Celia, and stop her leading herself and her friends into disaster!

Stop this running nonsense! What on earth do you think you are doing!!

With much concern,

Best Friends Club

Elizabeth,

Stay right where you are.

You’ve trained for this and you’ve trained hard.

Just take it steady; pace yourself; run slowly for now; there’s plenty of time for speed later. This is so easy you could do it walking on your hands! You can’t even feel the ground, really – it’s like you’re a seagull that just caught a breeze.

Ignore all other messages, enjoy the rhythm of your pace, and concentrate on your breathing.

Yours,

The Society of High School Runners

Dear Elizabeth,

Okay, that’s enough.

Stop.

I don’t care whether you rescue Celia or not, I don’t care what you do. I just need for you to stop running. What you actually have to do is lie down in a patch of shade somewhere. See that bus seat? Sit on that. Go on. Take a seat.

Yours,

COLD HARD TRUTH ASSOCIATION

Dear Elizabeth,

Ignore everyone! Keep going! You can do this!

You’re SUPPOSED to be completely destroyed by running a half marathon faster than you’ve ever run long distance before – remember? This is a personal challenge!

What do you mean ‘no energy’? Of course you’ve got energy! You’ve been carbo-loading for months! Look at the people who have quit, Elizabeth! Look at them falling to the side of the path, bending over, clutching their knees, lying flat on their backs. THAT’S what it means to have no energy!

Yours with the best of luck,

The Society of High School Runners

PS Think about this. If Saxon was here as your running partner, like he used to promise that he would be? By now you would have politely asked if he minded you running on without him. You were always better than him, Elizabeth. You’d have left him eating your dust.

Dear Elizabeth,

Another thing. It has suddenly occurred to us that maybe Celia is not your best friend anymore?

I don’t mean that she’s not your FRIEND. She will always be your friend. You will always have a childhood full of memories between you.

But I wonder if you’ve drifted apart now and will never be quite so close again. And I wonder if it really, truly matters?

Just a thought.

Keep on running, baby.

Best Friends Club

PS Another thing – you see Christina on her bicycle, riding alongside, shouting at you not to quit? You think Celia would ever have done that?

PPS Still, maybe you could tell Christina to put her camera away. A portrait of you with your hair flat with sweat, your cheeks bright red, and your face grimacing with the effort? The world just doesn’t need it.

Dear Elizabeth,

Yes, we see how you might be distracted. We see how the thought of Jared’s hands and wrists and forearms are difficult to eject from your mind.

But you’d better stop thinking about him, Elizabeth. It’s slowing you right down.

Think about that woman up ahead instead – now why is a woman wearing an overcoat and leg warmers so far ahead of
you, please? Go ahead. Overtake.

Kindest regards,

The Young Romance Society

Elizabeth,

I believe that the finish line is not so far now.

I realise that your legs are so heavy they could drill straight through this bitumen. I realise that the only word to describe how your lower back feels right now is ‘agony’, and that if you stopped to think about it you might throw up on the spot.

But I think that, if you don’t drop dead, you will make it to that finish line.

Still, perhaps dropping dead would be preferable?

Yours,

Sensible Suggestions at your Service Inc.

Elizabeth! What are you doing?? There’s something the matter with you!! You’re SPRINTING – you’re SPRINTING towards the finish line!! Have you lost your MIND???

Anxious but also Extremely Excited, Inc.

Elizabeth,

You finished.

We’re so proud of you.

Now if everyone else would please shut up and let the poor girl have a break?

The Society of High School Runners