In Ecstasy (9 page)

It was a strange, disembodied stage that followed. One minute Mia and I were inseparable, then she was gone. Even though she still sat next to me she had moved away from me, so happily and obliviously towards her dream. When we talked I saw the distance in her eyes. She listened and nodded, but she wasn't interested. She wasn't really there. It was the same if we chatted on MSN at night. Sometimes there'd be really long breaks between her replies, because I was just one of many windows she had open. Her mind was always on Lewis Scott. He was all she ever spoke about: Lewis this, Lewis that. I grinned and nodded—and ground the enamel off my back teeth.

It hadn't taken long for Lewis Scott to monopolise every single conversation we had. If we were discussing something else, she'd steer the talk back to him. Sometimes I just wanted to slap her. ‘Listen to yourself,' I wanted to scream. But in her current state of evolution she would have thought I was just envious. In the new order of Mia, that was her standard response. The days of steely sulks were replaced now with a dismissive ‘talk to the hand' gesture and her mantra ‘she's just jealous.' She moved sublimely above everyone else, including me.

She didn't know about Dominic, that we were kind of back together. He was still my secret. Even if she'd given me the chance, if she'd ever stopped for breath, I wouldn't have wanted to share that news with her. She wouldn't have understood. Worse, I thought she wouldn't really care.

She had this superior attitude to everything now, like she thought she was married and the rest of us were immature kids pretending to be grown up. It was an attitude that came through in her new smile, and her willingness to pass judgement on almost everyone and everything. If Mia wanted to be the Most Hated Girl in School she was chalking up the points quickly. My smart, funny friend had turned into a shallow, self-absorbed, boring pain in the arse.

But call me optimistic. I thought, one day Lewis Scott is going to move on to someone else, and when he dumps her, we'll have the old Mia back.

So we were engaged in this farce. Still pretending we were best friends, sitting together in class, sharing notes and textbooks, but come home time I walked away from her with relief. I'd leave her to swagger to the student parking where she'd lean against Lewis's car, chatting to all the year twelves, waiting for him to drive her home.

And I didn't know what was happening between Dom and me anyway. He'd text me every morning, some small message like:

how u doin? C U @ skool

And I'd reply with some standard response to say I was okay, but it was a lie. I wasn't okay, and he knew it. He was still offering me help, support and comfort, but I didn't want it. I wanted him to want me like before, when he saw me as a whole person, strong and invincible. Not some victim in need of rescuing. So I mostly avoided him at school. And Mia's popular twelves group—I used any excuse not to join them, they were far too nauseating.

I knew I wasn't doing the right thing, cutting myself off, in fact I felt really confused—and the loneliest I had ever been. I still wasn't all right about what happened that night with Glenn, and I sort of knew I needed help to get over it. But the help I needed didn't exist, or at least that's what I thought. So I kept my mouth shut, went to the library and studied, and remembered a time when I had someone I could have told all this to.

After a big weekend I always found Tuesdays harder than Mondays. By Tuesday I'd bottomed out which left me feeling empty and flat. Nothing would lift me up, not even thinking about Lewis. It was easy to see everything negatively. I wanted to touch and feel thrilled but instead I felt empty and lonely, isolated from everyone as if there was a barrier around me that nothing could penetrate. I hated it.

‘Hi, Jordie,' I said, leaning in the doorway of his room and watching my brother glue parts to his model aeroplane. He glanced up at me quickly, tongue sticking out slightly, then went back to his plane.

‘Whatchya doing?' I asked, though it was obvious. I slumped on the end of his bed.

He had both hands tightly clamping a wing to his B52. I knew it was a B52 because the instructions—or destructions, as Jordie used to say—were spread out in front of him like a tourist map. I looked at the back of his head, bowed over in concentration, and I felt an overwhelming urge to touch him, like he was a little baby again, and I used to stroke the side of his face to help him go to sleep. The compulsion was so strong it surprised me.

‘I think it's off,' he mumbled.

‘What?' I asked, startled by the sound of his voice.

‘The glue,' he said, releasing the wing, which promptly fell off the body of the plane. ‘Bum,' he said sharply.

‘Can I help?' I leaned down and picked the wing up, looking for a reason to stay in his room. ‘If I hold it for longer it might stick. You can build another bit.'

He gave me a funny look but re-glued the wing and stuck it back in position, then gingerly passed it to me. I held the wing against the engine air intake.

‘It's a long-range bomber,' he said, holding high a brush tipped with green paint. ‘Originally designed to carry nuclear weapons.'

‘Really?'

‘Yeah.' He applied quick brushstrokes to the tip of the plane's tail. ‘I'm gunna be a pilot. But not a bomber one.'

‘Really?' I said again, but this time the surprise showed in my tone.

‘Mia,' Jordie frowned, ‘I've always wanted to be a pilot, since forever.'

I nodded as if I remembered, but truthfully I had no idea. I carried out my task carefully, making sure the wing was in the exact position Jordie had placed it in. The truth was, I knew very little about Jordie. There was a time I'd known him really well, in the months after Dad left. The two of us had stuck together. Sitting in his room reminded me of how I'd actually enjoyed his company, when we used to talk and he'd make me laugh. Suddenly I was overwhelmed with nostalgia. I suppressed the urge to cry and focused on my little brother's animated face telling me the history of the B52.

‘Do you know one of its nicknames was BUFF?'

I shook my head. ‘Why?'

‘It stands for Big Ugly Fat...' he dropped his voice and leaned closer, eyes glinting delightedly, ‘Fuckers!'

‘Jordie!' We both laughed, watching the doorway for Mum.

‘It's stuck,' I said finally, holding my part of the plane aloft for his approval.

‘Cool,' he took it from my hands. ‘Thanks.'

I watched him lay the pieces side by side. So neat and precise. He'd finished building for today. Reluctantly I made to get up off the bed.

‘Wanna play X-Box?'

‘Sure,' I said gratefully, ‘but I warn you, I will be kicking your arse.'

With my new status at school came new responsibility. I had to look good all the time. I couldn't have other girls eyeing me off, wondering what Lewis Scott saw in that pimply scrag. I watched what I ate, though I wasn't in danger of getting fat. Most weekends I ate nothing anyway, and all the dancing was burning up heaps of calories. But it didn't look good to sit around eating crap in front of everyone. Most of the time we ate nothing and drank diet drinks.

‘So what colour are they?' Sasha asked, holding a few strands of Lara's hair up to the sunlight.

‘Chestnut.'

I filled them in on the latest hair fashion, which was a weave of three different tones. I knew my stuff. I studied
Cosmo
like some people study the Bible. I knew every trend and fashion statement.

‘I'm getting mine done this weekend,' I said.

‘Cool,' Sasha said.

I'd had a major fight with Mum, but I'd made the appointment anyway.

‘I don't know why you have to be like everyone else,' she'd said, shaking her head at me.

‘I'm not, it's about looking good and fashionable.'

‘Fashion is another word for conformity,' she said.

‘Looking at all the grey in your hair, you might want to conform a little,' I snapped.

She wouldn't get off my back, even about something as stupid as hair colour. So what if I put a few foils in my hair. Lewis's birthday was next week and there was no way I was helping host his party with drab, mousy hair.

I stopped at the loos on my way to English. I was busting, and so late a few more minutes wouldn't make any difference. I heard someone come in. Two people. My ears honed in on my name, uttered with pure venom.

‘Mia.' It was dragged out nastily, petulantly.
Meeeee-a.

The other girl laughed, just as meanly. ‘She's such a skank.'

Lara and Sasha.

‘I know.' There was the sound of a tap running. ‘She's so far up herself. Does she really think we give a toss about her opinion?'

‘Oh, I know.' Lara mimicked my voice. ‘This season's all about chestnut!'

They laughed together.

‘What a slut.'

‘How long, do you reckon?'

‘Dunno. He's had his cherry now. Couple more weeks?'

‘If that.'

‘Well, you know Lewis. Nice and young, a bit of fun, then see ya later.'

‘Yeah, but usually they're better looking. I mean he's such a root. He must know he can do better than Miss Thing.'

‘Sash, don't stress. It won't take him long to figure it out. Don't worry. You'll have him for the Ball.'

‘I guess.'

The door opened, then shut again. The toilet in the next cubicle hissed quietly, then there was silence. My cheeks were hot. I knew there was no one out there but I stepped cautiously from the cubicle. Pair of bitches. They're just jealous, I told my reflection, Sasha wants him. For the Ball? I shook my head.
I don't think so.

Dom was picked for the State Schoolboys competition and was flying to Sydney for the finals. He was going to be gone for two weeks and that made me realise just how important it was for me to know he was around.

He had started ringing me at night when I wouldn't see him at school. Just listening to his voice made me feel connected to the world again. He didn't talk about that night any more, or about Mia or any of that scene. He just talked to me about any old thing.

One night he started talking about his dad. To Dom, he is a real hero. He had closed his medical practice to work for people living with AIDS and HIV, mostly in the Sudan. But he doesn't broadcast his deeds, expecting to be admired. He does what is in his heart, what makes a difference to him.

‘I'll call you as often as I can,' Dominic said, ‘but it probably won't be every night.'

‘That's okay.' I tried to laugh. ‘Go and win.'

The buzz at school had been Lewis Scott's birthday party. I watched people approach Mia and ask her some detail—probably about what pills would be there—and she'd smile in that patronising way she'd cultivated. I didn't ask her one single thing about it. I couldn't bring myself to have that worldly gaze of hers bestowed upon me. And frankly I didn't give a toss about the party. I'd rather sit at home and pluck my bikini line with a pair of tweezers, than go to their Pill Popping Party.

I couldn't imagine ever relaxing and having fun at a party again. I had a real fear of alcohol—scared that if I had a drink I might lose control or that it might be spiked. I was scared of pills too. I'm not a stupid person. Straight, I wouldn't get into a car with someone I don't know, so why did I get off the train that night when I knew I wanted to stay on it? That wasn't how I want to live my life, scared of stuff.

I watched Mia's transformation into this new person and it was easy to blame the pills. Who really knew what was in them? When she stuck those pills in her mouth I know she wasn't thinking that they might have Drano in them, or battery acid. She refused to look at any of the negative stuff because nothing negative had happened to her. Everything she'd always wanted had fallen in her lap—a good-looking rich boyfriend and a full-on social life. It was just about the feel-good time she was going to have. But she changed so much. The pills made her selfish and inconsiderate. She never used to be like that.

Lewis's party was going to be the event of the year. We spent most lunch times discussing invites, drinks, music, drugs. Lewis wasn't sparing any expense. People would ask me about it because I was his girlfriend. It made me feel really good, knowing people respected me, but sometimes, on a Tuesday or Wednesday, when I was always a bit flat, I'd feel like no one came up to me because of me, Mia, but only because I was Lewis's girlfriend. On those days, though, everything was a drag, especially school, which was starting to slip. I kept promising myself that I'd have a weekend off and catch up, but every weekend there was something on and I couldn't bear to miss out. Sometimes at Dad's I'd get some work done, but mostly Jordie went to Dad's alone. Who knew what I'd miss if I skipped a party?

The other girls seemed to be my friends. They always talked to me at parties but I couldn't forget what Lara and Sasha had said in the toilets. Lewis's party would be our three-month anniversary. What if he dumped me? Sasha wouldn't be the only one ready to move in on him. The idea of losing him made me feel crazy.

And even if they were only jealous, knowing what those two really thought of me made me feel horribly alone. Who knows what anyone else truly feels when they're laughing and smiling with you? Soph would've known, but even though we still sat next to each other in class I didn't really have her any more. It cut me how she'd drifted away, just because I had a boyfriend. I'd never let go of our friendship all the times she had a guy. I couldn't believe how she'd just left me to do this all on my own. I'd given up asking her to come out with us—there are only so many rejections a person can take. She didn't like what I was up to, and because she'd become so anti-drugs, I didn't tell her. Anyway what she was doing I found totally boring, living in the library with other year eleven wannabes.

Despite all that, I really wanted her to come.

‘It'll be great, Soph,' I pleaded. It surprised me how much I wanted her to say yes. I hated the awkwardness that had grown between us. ‘It's gunna be huge. Please say you'll come.'

‘I don't know.' She looked at me dubiously. ‘It's not really my scene. Won't everyone be off their faces?'

There was something so judgemental in the way she said it. Like we were all a bunch of losers.

‘Soph! We don't do drugs all the time.'

She raised her eyebrow and sighed.

‘Please, Soph, it'll be like old times.' As I said it, I suddenly hoped that it would be.

She was silent for a long while and I didn't think she was even going to answer. ‘Sorry,' she said finally. ‘Yeah, I'll come. What're you going to wear?'

Lewis and I set up the kegs and the bottles of water, and I put floating candles and flowers in the pool. Then we both dropped a couple of Es.

I swallowed them quickly. It hadn't taken long for one pill to not be enough—we could take up to four in a night. To bring us down we had to smoke more weed, but it was all good.

By the time guests started arriving I was totally up. This was like my home now, and I showed people where to put their bags and got drinks for them. Lewis was ecstatic, literally. He was laughing and smiling and I knew, as I looked at him across the room, this was going to be a night I'd never forget.

I saw Soph arrive, hovering near the door clutching her bag. I swooped on her immediately. ‘Come in, come in,' I said, leading her to Lewis's bedroom. ‘Pretty amazing, hey?'

‘Yeah.' She dropped her bag on the bed. ‘Mia, have you—‘

I cut her short. Now wasn't the time for a lecture. ‘Yeah, I was a bit nervous. Do you want one?'

She shook her head. ‘Nah, I think I'll stick with vodka.'

I didn't see what time Soph left because by then things had gone totally mental.