Fins 4 Ur Sins (8 page)

17

THE BARBEQUE IS in full swing by the time Bethany and I jump
out of Cal’s truck. His low-set house is lit up and yellow patches of light
spill across the sloping lawn. Cheers and laughter echo along the street.
Shouts ring out from the back and a screen door bangs. We wind our way past
numerous cars along the street, the letter box with balloons tied to the post
and then through the front door to the comfortable warmth inside.

The aroma of grilled chicken and
sausages permeate the air. Music videos play on the TV, although no one watches
them. It’s background noise.

Cal stops in the kitchen,
reluctantly, to land a wet one on his mother’s cheek and then ropes a grumbling
Bethany into chores.

“It’s your party,” she says, with
a deep scowl. “Do your own dirty work.” She huffs out a breath, getting all
ready to do battle.

There’s a guy at the party she
wants to flirt with, and Cal’s just thrown an axe through her nefarious plans.
Love that girl.

“Please?” He rolls his eyes and
laughs. “I would, but I have this cute little cousin who loves helping out.
Beth?”

She stalks off with a tray of
olives, toothpicks, ham and a glare. He holds out his arm like a human forklift
and takes everything his mother puts there.
Marinated
cocktail wieners, garlic bread, chicken wings and sausages.

“I’ll help,” I say. “What can I
do?”

Cal’s mum turns to me with
curious brown eyes. “Hello, you’re one of Bethany’s friends?”

I nod. That’s me. Is this my new
identity here? Who am I in this big world of ours?

A friendly smile curves her
over-wide mouth. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“This is Eloise, Mum,” Cal pipes
in on his way back inside.
“Ellie to her friends.”
He
winks at me over another tray of steaming sausages and dances out the back door
toward the buffet table.

“I’m Meg.” Cal’s mum wipes her
hands on her apron and grins at me.
“That boy.
Such a charmer.
But yes, you can help. Thanks for offering.
Grab the Pavlova out of the fridge, please. It’s cold enough tonight to have it
sit on the table without the cream melting.”

“Sure.” I don’t feel strange
going into someone else’s fridge. What else does that say about me? The sight
of food brings back wonderful memories.
Family gatherings and
my dad teaching me how to cook.

The tablecloth outside is plastic
and peppered with sunflower squares. Cal and Bethany do their snarky joke thing
over the trays of hot food. People cluster by outside fires in steel barrels,
and Cal’s mum is right, it is rather cold. But for the first time, I feel
misgivings. I don’t know anyone here except Bethany and Cal. I’m wearing my
blue jeans, black Vans and a light green jersey shirt. My hair flows around my
shoulders, keeping my neck warm.

Cal lives so close to the water,
I’m sure I can smell the salty sea air. I place the Pavlova next to the dips.

Will anyone notice if I take a
walk to the water’s edge to investigate the bay?

Carrie arrives then, and Bethany
drags me over to a group of kids our age so she won’t have to do any more
chores. “If Mum spots me, she’ll make me clean everything in the kitchen. Run,”
Beth whispers in my ear.

I laugh, but she quickly
introduces me to her cousins and a few friends who are laughing, chatting,
eating cocktail sausages and drinking around a fire. I ease into one of the
spare seats, the cold night air to my back. Beth filches the seat next to mine.
The flickering fire warms my knees, and Cal hands me and Bethany a Coke. I hug
the icy can in my hands with a grin.

“So what did you girls get up to
today?” Cal grips the back of my chair.

I jump.
Just a
little.
Surprise must show on my face because Bethany stares at me. I
shrug. Her gaze flicks to Cal’s hands, up to his face and then down to me.

I can almost feel his hands; they’re
so close to my shoulders. Heat seems to radiate off his skin. “We—” I swallow
as a memory surfaces.

“Need a smartphone,” Lakyn
says during our shopping trip earlier today, adding a jump to his step. He
pulls at his shirt collar, again and again. “A. Smart.
Phone.”

He hates anything restricting.
How am I only noticing that now?

A pop from the burning wood snaps
me back to reality. “I went shopping after school. Bethany came with.”

Cal laughs and drags a fold-up
chair closer to the flames. “What’s the damage?” He bites into the hotdog in
his huge hand, and sauce oozes out. He chews thoughtfully.

“Nothing.
It wasn’t for us.” Bethany giggles because she’s already posted the photos
online. “It was for this new guy at school, Lakyn.
Mintest
guy ever.
He bought
us lunch at the most dreamy restaurant, too.”

Cal frowns, swallows.
“A dreamy restaurant?
Lakyn?”

Of course, I rang Bethany the
moment I got back to school, and we set up a time to meet Lakyn at the shopping
centre. She’s my best friend. I will not do anything like that without her. The
stop at the Indian restaurant surprised me as well. Lakyn told me he wants to
try as many things as he can. But exactly why, he doesn’t say.

There’s a lot I can tell Cal, but
I don’t.

“Who’s Lakyn?” Cal asks again.

That’s what I want to know, too.
Who
is
Lakyn? What is his story?

“What can it do?” Lakyn sidles
up to me as I enter my number and Bethany’s into his phone.

She treks through the stands
to find a proper case and a screen protector. Lakyn put five hundred dollars in
her hand, and her eyes went wide for a split second, but then she disappeared.
I didn’t expect her back until she spent it all on accessories.

I hold out the phone in front
of us and take a
selfie
. The picture zooms into the
bottom, and I bring up the photo of our heads together.

He sighs. “That’s incredibly
clear. This technology is great.”

“Watch this.”

“Ellie.
Elllliiieeee
.”

I look up at Bethany. “Yes?
Sorry. What?”

She frowns at me. “You’re off in
La
La
Land.
Been calling your
name.”
She shakes her head. “Cal wants to know why Lakyn was so excited
about getting a smartphone.”

Oh. “He’s an orphan,” I say.
“Forgot you didn’t know.
I guess he could never afford one
before. Probably too embarrassed to admit it, you know?”

Cal grumbles. “That’s tough. So
you did your good deed for the day?” He grins.

“Yeah.”
But there’s something else bothering me, maybe the glint of intelligence I saw
in Lakyn’s eyes at the shops.

“Does it take moving pictures?
Like in the movies?”
Lakyn’s gaze sharpens, and his
stunning blue eyes narrow. He tries the function again, taking the iPhone from
my hands. I have no problem with this, it’s his after all.

“Sure,” I say. “You can post
them online, too.”

The full capabilities of the
Internet are a mammoth shock to him. He must’ve been hiding under a rock,
home-schooled with foster parents who hated technology or something. He buys a
laptop with mobile Internet. Bethany promises to teach him how to use it
properly.

But he immediately wants to
test out all the video capabilities of the phone. So we sit in the middle of
the shopping centre, those damn wooden seats are so uncomfortable, and he films
something in the distance.

Then he asks me if I will go
swimming at the beach tomorrow with him to train for the trials. He wants to
film us.

I tell him I’d rather have
maths homework every night for the rest of my life.

18

GETTING READY IN Bethany’s bathroom for a shopping trip on
Saturday morning is a jostling of lipsticks and bronzer, and the steam of the straightener
when it hits product. I apply eyeliner and mascara while she texts a few girls
and guys—people she says who friended her on Facebook after she posted pictures
of Lakyn.

“Maybe we’ll meet up with them
afterwards.” She laughs. “Go watch a movie or something. Do you think he’ll
show up?”

“Na.”
I
shake my head and pack away my stuff. “He told me yesterday he’d be working at
the Yacht Club today.”

“Oh. OK.” But she sounds
disappointed, and I don’t blame her.

We catch a bus at the corner of
Bethany’s house all the way to Capalaba. Wynnum is close to the water and has
shops, no doubt good ones if what you’re going for is boutiques and seaside
trinkets. But Bethany and I want to go to the cheaper clothes shops in the huge
shopping centre at Capalaba. It’s a busy place; definitely look before crossing
the road.

In Capalaba, I can’t walk two
steps without seeing a car or bus. There are two centres side by side, and just
about every shop you’d need is there, including the cinema.

It’s a beautiful day out, not a
cloud in the sky and the temperature is mild. But I find myself squinting
against the sunlight. Going to sleep at three a.m. will do that to you.

I’ll probably get a job here.
Grow up in the midst of all the hustle . . . but . . . I don’t know if working
here is what I truly want. I have no idea what I will do. I envy those who know
without a doubt what they will become.
Physiotherapist,
doctor, baker, teacher.
Their roadmap is already set out. I feel like
doing the wrong thing for a year or two will be a mistake. No step forward at
all may be even worse. I’m meant to decide so much, yet I feel out of place.
Stuck.

My reflection in the shopfront
display glass is a sleek shot of white hair and dark arms and legs. There, I’m
tanned.
The shadow of someone who in real life appears as an
arctic snowdrift.

Bethany and I dodge leather
settees with exhausted fathers and displays of stuff we’ll never ever buy.
Well, maybe.
When I’m thirty or so.

We venture into the crystal
store, and the relaxing peace of the music washes over me, as does the scent of
incense. The trinkets they offer are beautiful, refracting light and warmth.

“You love shops like this, don’t
you?” Bethany asks.

I laugh under my breath.
“Maybe.”
I pay for a large mood ring and then promptly slide
it onto my middle finger. I waggle my hand at her.

“Cute,” Bethany comments with a
smile. The ring turns from blue to pink on my finger, and she giggles. “Is
something on your mind? What happened yesterday at the breeders with Lakyn?”

I grin.
“Oh
yeah.
So much juicy gossip.”
Then I laugh. “No.
He just sat beside me on the bus, and like I said last night, he told me a bit
about his family and where he works.”

“So?”

“So nothing.”
Then I remember how close he came to kissing me.
The sweet
scent of his minty breath washing over my lips.
My
delight with the water.
Despair,
and a
blinding, stinging agony. I bite my bottom lip, perplexed. I feel I’ve lost
days somewhere, as if I’m missing something. Can I tell Bethany? I don’t
understand it myself. “It won’t happen between us. I mean, how he looks!
Though you should have seen his face when a butterfly broke free.”

“He’s hot.” The words almost
sound strange coming out of Bethany’s mouth. She’s normally so focused on
academic things. “His blue eyes and dimple. You should totally go out with
him.”

“What?” I look at her and shake
my head.
“As if he’ll ask.
Why would he want to go out
with me?”

Her gaze is astonished. “You’re
beautiful, Ellie. Your hair is gorgeous. And, you’re a natural blonde. You
stand out. You’re interesting; different, more than you seem. Hey, what were
you talking about with my uncle last night? You know, when Cal was with you?”
Bethany pushes her glasses higher up her nose and rummages in her pocket to
count her notes. “If you’re finished here, I need some new clothes desperately.
Come on.” She calls out and we exit the shop,
then
step inside the surf store.

I look up slyly. “You mean last
night when you were flirting with Hamish?” At the contrite look on her face, I
laugh. “Your uncle wanted to know—” I cough. “Well, Cal told him I was the girl
the reporters were mentioning on TV.” A sickening sensation drops in my belly,
and I hold my hand over my abdomen.
“The sole survivor.
God.
He wanted to know what I’d seen the night I
died.”

Beth blinks. “You’re kidding? He
actually came out and asked you that?” Her face screws up in regret. “I should
have been there. Talk about putting you on the spot.
As if
you’d want to be reminded.”

I flick through the short shorts
and cute tops and shrug. “It’s all right. I want to know what happened to me. I
still feel like I’m living on borrowed time even though the police believe
they’ve caught the killer,” I murmur. “It’s so strange, but it was good to talk
to him. I didn’t realise your uncle knew the area so well.”

“Yeah, I guess. My family’s lived
around here for ages.” She steps forward and hunts through the clothes at the
other end of the rack. “Damn, I wish I’d heard your conversation. He’d know the
other fisherman, too. I never thought of asking him for information. He could
tell us a lot. Hopefully, Cal’s been talking to him. I’ll call him as soon as
we leave here. He might have seen the guy on the news around the area.”

I arch my eyebrows. “Not only
that. Five of the guys with your uncle were fishermen, and they spent about
twenty minutes arguing if
Gregor
Bane had an
accomplice. They said some of the guys knew him, and he didn’t know enough
about the water or area to kill someone like that. Your uncle says he’s seen
some odd things out on the water lately. Wouldn’t tell me what they were
though. I gathered he thought it would scare me.”

Bethany stops what she’s doing
and turns to me. “What else did he say?”

“Just
that if I
needed help, don’t
hesitate to call him. He gave me his and your aunt’s phone
number. Said it was terrible what was happening and, because I knew you, all of
the fishermen would protect me.” My voice grows foggy and warmth pricks my
eyes. “He’d put the word out.”

“Hey,” Bethany says close beside
me and she rubs my back. “Come on, let’s go
do
something fun. There’s nothing here I want. I have enough money for us to get a
haircut and I want some highlights. We can stop at the cosmetics department
after that and get a free makeover. Get some new bras. Oh, and I wanted to show
you these shorts I saw the other day.”

I breathe out slowly. “Sure.”
Then I smile at her.
“Why not?”

We spend the rest of the day in a
blur of walking and buying, experiencing what the shops have to offer. We eat
lunch at a café, flipping through magazine pages and drinking coffee. By five
p.m., my feet throb, my hair bounces above my shoulder blades and I have a bag
full of makeup samples. To my surprise, the consultant happily shows me all the
colours that suit my skin and grey eyes.

Then Bethany says she wants to
check out the bras.

With the last of my money, I get
a bra two sizes larger, though not in the cup, just around my chest. Standing
in front of the mirror in the change rooms, I can see the difference in my
body.
Specifically, my ribs.
I turn to study myself
from every angle, not liking the sharp width I’m seeing, the shape of me. Maybe
this is growing, what I’m meant to look like. At least I know what size school
shirt I need to buy.
Bigger.

I sigh and rub my forehead with a
laugh.

On my way out of the change room,
I flick back my hair, admiring the new layered style. Before my eyes, the
strands glitter. My jaw drops and heart stops. I peer over my shoulder again,
staring at my reflection. I grab the ends of my hair and watch the strands grow
across my palm in a silvery sheen. My heart pounds and I can’t catch my breath.
Disbelief drums in my mind.

“Be . . .
Be
. . .” I lean against the wall. “What the hell?”

She calls out, “What is it? Do
you need help? Is it your chest again?”

“No. No. I just—” I grab a
hairband from my pocket and seize a hank of my hair, pulling it up into a messy
bun. I try not to glance at my reflection, but I need to see if my hair is
still growing before I exit. The sudden glow is gone and I slide back the
curtain, weakly smiling at Beth, my knees shaking. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”