Love-shy (14 page)

‘What do you want to do when you leave school, Penny?' asked Mr Tamaki.

‘Study journalism,' I told him. ‘I want to be a journalist.'

‘A difficult line of work,' he said. ‘Very stressful.'

‘But rewarding,' I said. ‘I want to tell the important stories. The ones that aren't being told.'

I thought of Nick, and hoped that Hamish's friend-zone theory was correct.

I was expecting something exotic for dessert, possibly involving sticky rice or red bean paste. Or more Pocky. But it turned out to be rocky road ice-cream, which was just fine by me.

After dinner I thanked Mr and Mrs Tamaki for their hospitality.

‘You must come again,' said Mrs Tamaki. ‘Any time.'

I stood up, my knees creaky after sitting cross-legged for so long. Rin walked me to the door.

‘Thanks for dinner,' I said. ‘It was delicious.'

‘That's okay,' said Rin. ‘Thanks for inviting me to the . . . you know.' She winked.

I winked back, and realised that for the first time in my life I was genuinely looking forward to going to a teenage birthday party.

21:44
I don't like the bright sun, or the shock of cold water. I've been thinking about that church camp my parents sent me on when I was eleven. They're not very religious, but my father thought it would help me be more social. As soon as I arrived, I hated it. On that first afternoon, we were all told to change into our bathers (I always wear a T-shirt because I burn very easily) and headed down to the lake.
The water was cold. So cold that when it lapped around my feet, I shivered and my toes ached. But I wanted to go in. It would just take some time. It always takes time, because I'm sensitive to the cold. So I eased myself in, little by little. Inch by inch. But the other boys laughed at me and called me a pussy and a faggot. I didn't care, I was used to it. I just ignored them and kept inching in. But they wouldn't go away. They came closer and splashed me. Every splash was like sharp blades raking across my body. I screamed at them to leave me alone. It didn't work. They got rocks from the lake shore and threw them at me. Hard. I got out of the water and ran for the cabins. It was hot for the rest of the camp, but I wore long sleeves every day to hide the bruises. I didn't go swimming again. I never went swimming again.

I read Nick's post six times. Could it really be true? Could kids be so horrid to each other? I pictured tiny skinny Nick in his board-shorts and T-shirt, cringing and crying from the water and the rocks, while all the other boys laughed at him. No wonder he was messed up.

8

F
RIDAY WAS THE SWIMMING CARNIVAL
. Everyone dressed in their house colours and stood on the sidelines and cheered. My house was Merri, and our colour was white (white? Who ever heard of a
white
school house?), and it was always difficult to think of a costume theme. There were only so many times you could all dress up as angels, so this year we'd decided to come as doctors and asylum patients in straitjackets. All the non-swimmers wore white face-paint and scary panda-eyes, and our house cheer was
If we don't
win, we' ll bite off your arms and legs!
, which at least was different.

I won my first few races easily, which was no surprise. I've been swimming competitively since I was eight. Plus I've got a good strong mindset and don't allow myself to be distracted during a competition.

Except for today. All the time I was waiting for my races, I kept an eye out for Nick. The whole school was supposed to attend the carnival, but it would be pretty easy to wag and stay home. But then, Amy Butler was competing, looking very petite and lovely in a sleek black one-piece. Wouldn't he relish this opportunity to watch her compete? Her hair was tucked into a swimming cap, which Nick probably wouldn't like, but there was plenty of figure to look at. Then again, maybe he'd get freaked out by all the near-nudity. He probably
was
wagging.

I felt I should approach Amy and talk to her about Nick, but I honestly wasn't sure what to say. I didn't want to expose his secret to the school – that'd scare him off completely (and be kind of mean). But maybe I could get them both to come to Sarah Parsons' party? I was sure Amy would be going. I hoped there wouldn't be a repeat of last year's Tia Maria incident.

The carnival was finishing with the relay that would decide which of the four houses got the Swimming Cup. I hated relays – the other people in the team rarely had the same level of commitment as I did. Luckily, as with Debating, I swam last, so I'd at least have an opportunity to fix any disasters perpetrated by my team members. As I was standing in line waiting for the starting pistol to fire, I scanned the seats around the pool for Nick.

And there he was.

The new 25-metre pool and aquatic centre had been built last year, and it still smelled of paint under the chlorine. Nick was sitting up the very back of the raked seating, away from everyone else. I could tell he was watching Amy Butler. She was in Fawkner, the blue house, and she was second-last in her relay queue, so she'd be swimming just before me in the butterfly leg. I was the anchor for my team, swimming the freestyle leg.

The starter gun sounded and the backstrokers kicked off. Olivia Fischer was the first swimmer for my house, and she did okay, but didn't manage to get the lead. Sarah Parsons was next, doing breaststroke. She was rubbish, letting the Fawkner and Rushall teams get ahead of her, even though they'd been trailing behind Olivia in the first leg. Amy Butler was diving in for butterfly before Sarah had made it halfway back to us. After what seemed an
age
, Arabella Sampson finally dived in and I stepped up on the starting blocks, cheering her on.

Arabella made good time and almost caught up to Amy Butler. But as I bent my knees, ready to dive, I saw Amy pull herself out of the water and I automatically glanced up to Nick. As if he could feel me watching, his head swung around to me, and with a start, he got to his feet and made his way down the aisle – not towards the crowds, but towards the fire exit. I'd spooked him again. But I couldn't let him get away this time.

Arabella touched the edge of the pool and I dove over her head into the water. I had to finish the race quickly so I could catch up to Nick.

I swam as I'd never swum before, cutting through the water like a knife. My tumble turn was perfect. With every stroke I imagined Nick taking another step towards the door. I practically flew through the water, taking in great gulps of air on alternate sides every three strokes and focusing on my six-beat kick.

As I touched the end of the pool, I stuck my head up out of the water and searched for Nick, ignoring the cheers and yelling around me. He was nearly at the exit.

My teammates whooped and screamed my name. I knew I'd won, but I didn't care. This was my chance. I had to get to Nick. I hauled myself out of the water and ran towards him, stepping as carefully as I could so I wouldn't slip.

‘Penny! You have to stay in the pool!' said Sarah Parsons. ‘What's wrong? Are you sick?
Penny!
'

I waved at her in an
I'm fine
sort of way, and kept going. Water streamed off my hair and arms, and I left Penny-footprints with every step I took.

I slipped through the fire exit door just as it swung closed after Nick. He strode across the quadrangle, empty but for a few chip packets and aluminium cans.

‘Nick!' I made sure I didn't call out until I was close enough that he couldn't bolt. He was trapped between the stairs to the library and the bike sheds. He looked down, clenching and unclenching his fists.

‘Hey,' I said. ‘Calm down. I only want to talk to you. I think we got off on the wrong foot the other day. I want to apologise.'

Apologies weren't easy for me at the best of times, and this time it wasn't even true, because I hadn't done anything wrong! But Nick continued to stare at the ground and do that weird thing with his fists.

‘J-j-just leave m-me alone.'

Well, at least he'd spoken to me. That was a step in the right direction.

‘Hey,' I said. ‘Chill out. You don't have to be shy with me. And there's no one else around, they're all inside.'

I put my hand on his shoulder and felt him convulse slightly. I snatched my hand back. Of course he'd freak out when I touched him. He'd barely ever
spoken
to a girl before, and I was practically naked.

Nick stared at me, his face a mask of horror. All the cool aloofness fell away and I saw how utterly terrified he was.

The look of horror got worse, and his trembling more intense, then his mouth sort of twisted. And then I was covered in something wet, warm and foul-smelling.

‘Oh God,' he said.

When you've just been vomited on, all over your breasts, it's hard to know what to say. I was grateful he'd bent over as he'd done it, so it hadn't hit my face.

Vomity warmth seeped into my cleavage. I stood before Nick Rammage, in my bathers, dripping with pool water and spew. He appeared to be completely frozen.

‘Well,' I said, as a chunk of what appeared to be half-digested gummi bear dripped off my right breast and landed on my big toe. ‘I know that love-shys aren't supposed to be attracted to large-breasted women, but I didn't know you were so
repulsed
by them!'

Nick made a soft choking sound. Oops. Probably shouldn't have mentioned my boobs. Probably not the kind of thing that a love-shy in the middle of a freakout would find funny.

‘S-sorry,' he said, so softly I could barely hear him, as he half turned away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘I'm so sorry.'

I remembered my conversation with Hamish yesterday.
You have to find a way to talk to him that completely removes
all aspects of romance. A situation where romance and sex are
totally, utterly, not options.

There was vomit between my breasts and between my toes. The smell was making my eyes water. If ever there was a situation where romance and sex weren't options, this was it. It was time to put myself in Nick's friend zone.

‘Make it up to me,' I said. ‘I'm going to have a shower, and you're going to wait here. When I get back, you and I are going to have a chat. Nothing serious. I just want to talk to you. I'm not interested in dating you. I've got this whole personal policy about dating and vomit.'

Nick didn't say anything.

‘You owe it to me,' I said. ‘What you had for breakfast is currently dripping onto my toes.'

He jerked his head in what looked like a flinch, but just
might
be a nod. I took that as a yes, and sprinted off to the showers.

My team members were there, wrapped in damp towels, huddled together and talking quietly.

‘Penny!' Sarah Parsons took a step forward, then wrinkled her nose. ‘Are you okay?'

I nodded. ‘I just need a shower.'

‘What happened?' asked Olivia Fischer, glaring.

Sarah shh'd her. ‘What d'you
think
happened?' she said, gesturing at me. ‘Penny was sick. Did you want her to throw up in the pool?'

I blinked, and was about to tell them it wasn't
my
vomit, when I realised why they were all so annoyed. I'd won the race, but I'd got out of the pool before the race was over.

‘We were disqualified?' I asked, and Sarah looked down at the floor and nodded.

It wasn't fair. I'd won the race fair and square. I was a better swimmer than all the rest of them put together. What if I really had been sick? It was a stupid rule. The Australian women's relay team had been disqualified in the 2001 World Championships because the whole team had jumped
into
the pool before the race was finished, but that's because it was disrespectful and unsportsmanlike. This was an
emergency
!

‘Maybe if we talk to Ms Carlson,' suggested Arabella Sampson, ‘and explain that Penny was sick . . . '

‘It's too late,' snapped Olivia. ‘They've already awarded the Swimming Cup and medals.'

What did she want from me? I wasn't going to apologise for being sick. If it hadn't been for me, there was no way we would have won anyway, so we'd be in exactly the same position. Well, maybe we'd have been in second or third position instead of disqualified, but what did that matter? Winning was the only important thing when it came to racing.

Nick would be waiting for me. I didn't have much time.

‘I'm still not feeling great,' I said. ‘I might just have a shower and head home.'

Sarah looked at me with concern as Olivia stomped off to get her bag. ‘Do you want me to wait for you?'

‘No,' I said. ‘I'll be fine.'