Love-shy (19 page)

I thought of an ostracised rhesus monkey, throwing its baby at the walls of a cage.

It was too much. Nick didn't need an investigative journalist. He needed a
therapist
.

I couldn't do it. I was no Nellie Bly. I was just a teenager.

Nick was still curled over, his face hidden. I knew I should stay with him, try to make things okay, let him know that at least someone in the world cared. But every single cell and atom in my body was humming with fear. I knew about the fight-or-flight response – it had always seemed a cliché. But it was real.

I fled Nick's room, leaving his house, his life and the love-shy project behind me.

I'd made
PEZZimist.blogspot.com
my homepage when I'd started the project, so it automatically loaded when I got home and powered up my laptop. I hesitated. After tonight, there was no way I was going to work on the love-shy project anymore. I should just stay away from Nick.

I slammed the lid of my laptop closed, picked up the whole thing and shoved it into the back of my wardrobe. I didn't want Nick's horrible life to infect mine. I didn't ever want to see him again. I couldn't do it. I just couldn't.

11

I
T WASN'T DIFFICULT TO AVOID
Nick on Friday. At lunchtime I went to my SRC meeting, where we finalised the catering and entertainment for the social. We'd sold tickets to nearly 80 per cent of the student body, so we'd make a tidy profit and I could finally start implementing the canteen recycling program I'd been working on. After school there was a special pre-publication meeting of the
Gazette
, where we finalised the layout and story list for the next edition. East Glendale's star basketball champion needed a knee reconstruction. The Vegan Alliance was picketing the Home Economics room for not offering any cruelty-free recipes. Mr Whiteside was retiring at the end of the semester, after working at the school for forty-eight years.

‘What about the front page?' asked Ms Tidy. ‘You've been working on something, haven't you, Penny?'

‘Um.' I hadn't, although I'd told her I needed to skip the last meeting because I'd been too busy working on a story. The love-shy story. Which I'd never intended for the
Gazette
in the first place, but was now not going to write at all.

The rest of the
Gazette
committee looked at me expectantly. I couldn't tell them I hadn't done anything.

‘Yep,' I said. ‘It's nearly done.'

‘And . . . ' Ms Tidy raised her eyebrows. ‘Can you share the topic with us?'

‘N-no,' I said slowly. ‘The article is of a very sensitive nature. It's a profile of a student. I can't tell you who it is yet.'

Ms Tidy seemed unimpressed, but it was nearly four-thirty, and I had a train to catch. I'd have to come up with an idea for a front-page story. But it wasn't as though I hadn't done it before. I did it every issue. It could wait.

I'd told Hamish and Rin to meet me at Scuttlebutt at eight o'clock on Saturday night, and we'd head to Sarah Parsons' party from there. That way I could make sure the initial meeting went reasonably smoothly and Hamish didn't say anything too offensive.

The café was more crowded at night than it was during the day, with people sipping coffee or drinking fancy designer beers and eating Turkish bread and dips. I caught sight of Hamish sitting at a table near the kitchen. I cringed inwardly. He was wearing a
tie
, and not in an ironic way. A short-sleeved white shirt was tucked into jeans that, judging from the centre-crease, had been ironed by his mother.

‘Hi,' I said, walking up to the table and sitting down.

‘What's wrong?' said Hamish, looking concerned. ‘It's the tie, isn't it?'

Guess my cringe hadn't been as inward as I'd thought. ‘It does look a bit like your mum picked your outfit.'

Hamish quickly removed the tie. It was a clip-on.

‘Anything else?' he asked.

‘Untuck your shirt. And maybe try messing up your hair. It's very shiny.'

Hamish complied, and looked marginally better. It was the best I could do without a reality-TV makeover crew.

‘Um,' said a tiny voice behind my elbow. It was Rin, wearing a very short skirt with white socks pulled above the knee. She looked like a character from
Sailor Moon
.

‘Hi, Rin!' I said, standing up. Hamish stood too, and knocked over his chair. Once he'd recovered himself, I introduced him to Rin, and they shyly shook hands.

We all sat down, and I tried to get Rin and Hamish to talk to each other. But they were both pathetic, gazing down at their laps and nodding along to my attempts at conversation. It was like talking with
two
bobble-headed dolls. Except at least the dolls usually smiled.

‘So the party should be fun,' I said, lamely.

Rin and Hamish nodded again. I resisted the urge to groan, and checked my watch.

‘Is Nick coming?' asked Hamish, with a slightly smarmy look.

Rin's eyes opened wide. ‘Why would Nick be coming?' she asked me. ‘Did you guys— Are you
dating
?'

‘What? No. No, we're not dating, and no, he's not coming.' I glared at Hamish.

‘Oh,' said Rin, sounding disappointed for me. She lowered her voice and leaned over to me, her eyes sparkling. ‘Maybe you'll meet someone at the party.'

I opened my mouth to tell her I had neither the intention nor the desire to meet
anyone
at the party, but found I had neither the energy nor the heart to disappoint her.

‘Right,' I said instead. ‘Well, I guess we should go.'

‘I might run to the bathroom first,' said Rin.

While she was gone, Hamish reached into his bag and popped a breath mint into his mouth. I raised my eyebrows.

‘Better to be on the safe side,' he said. ‘I had a kebab for dinner.'

My plan was going as well as could be expected.

Sarah Parsons' party was in its early stages when we arrived, which was good. I tended to get bored once everyone was drunk and making out on the couches or vomiting into the bushes.

There was some reasonably inoffensive and not-too-loud pop music playing on the stereo, and people were gathered in clusters, chatting, drinking and eating corn chips.

I gave Sarah a hug (I didn't really like hugging, but I did realise this was what you were supposed to do at a party) and nearly choked on her perfume. ‘Happy birthday!' I said, and introduced Hamish and Rin. Sarah may have been a little surprised that I'd brought
two
dates along – especially one as dorky as Hamish – but she was far too polite to say anything, as I'd expected.

We settled on a couch and I sent Hamish off to get us something non-alcoholic to drink.

‘So,' I said to Rin. ‘What do you think of Hamish?'

Rin shrugged. ‘He's very quiet. But he seems . . . okay.'

‘He told me that he thinks you're very pretty,' I lied.

She blushed. ‘Really?'

‘Really. And did you see he has blue eyes and freckles?'

Rin nodded, pleased. ‘This is fun,' she said. ‘I actually know people here. That girl over there is in the Manga Club at school. I can't believe I'm at a party! With boys!'

Hamish came back, inexpertly carrying three drinks at once and sploshing lemon squash all over his wrist. Maybe it was time for me to give these two some privacy.

I saw Amy Butler across the room. ‘Can you guys excuse me for a moment?' I said. ‘I have to go and say hi to someone.'

Amy was sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar and swinging her legs, a plastic cup of something orange in her hand. I hoped it was just Fanta, but I doubted it.

‘Hi Penny!' Amy gave me a kiss on the cheek. Definitely not just Fanta. ‘Are you feeling better?'

I blinked. ‘What?'

‘It was sooo unfair, you getting disqualified just because you were sick.'

‘Yeah,' I said. ‘That
was
unfair.'

I thought about the swimming carnival for a moment. A month ago I would have been furious. I would have confronted the principal and written an editorial for the
Gazette
. I wouldn't have rested until I had that Swimming Cup in my hand. But now I couldn't quite bring myself to care. I took it as evidence that I was growing as a person and felt quite proud.

Amy Butler hiccuped, and I considered the possibility that I might be thrown up on a second time in as many weeks.

‘So there are, like,
no
cute guys at this party,' said Amy.

I studied the various boys nearby. James O'Keefe was pressed against Caitlin Reece, his hands creeping up under her T-shirt. Con Stingas and Andrew Rogers were having a competition to see who could fit the most Cheezels in his mouth. Max Wendt was showing Perry Chau a video of something on his phone that was, if Perry's delighted exclamations were anything to go by, very lewd indeed.

‘No argument here,' I said.

I glanced over to Rin and Hamish. Rin was waving her hands around animatedly as she explained something to Hamish, who kept nervously licking his lips. I sighed.

‘Sometimes I think that there are no cute boys anywhere,' I said. ‘They're all freaks.'

‘There
are
nice ones,' said Amy with a secretive smile.

I immediately thought of Nick. ‘Really? Like who?'

Amy screwed up her pretty nose. ‘Oh, I don't know. Nice guys who are, like . . . nice. And funny and good-looking.'

Well, Nick fitted all those categories. Most of them, anyway. He was good-looking, and he was certainly funny-peculiar even if he wasn't laugh-out-loud funny. Was he
nice
? He'd waited for me after he'd thrown up on my boobs. Although that might be stretching the definition of
nice
.

‘Do you have anyone in mind?' I asked. ‘Specifically?'

She gave me a cheeky smile. ‘Maybe,' she said.

I couldn't help myself. ‘Would you think about dating someone who was . . . a bit different?'

‘Like a Year Twelve?'

‘No . . . more different than that.'

Amy leaned her head towards mine. ‘You know,' she said softly. ‘I kind of have. There
is
. . . someone. And he's not exactly the kind of guy I thought I would ever like. I mean, he's pretty cute, but he isn't very popular.'

Did Amy like
Nick
? Was that possible? What if they got together? I imagined it for a moment. It'd be a total disaster. He wouldn't be happy with her. She wasn't smart enough for him; they'd never be able to have a proper conversation. And that's what Nick wanted, I was sure of it. He could go on about her long hair and pretty face, but what he really wanted was a soul-mate, right? Someone he could open up to, someone he could be his true self with.

Except . . . what
was
Nick's true self? Now I'd been to his house and met his parents, I wasn't sure I knew him at all. Would he ever be able to have a conversation with a girl he liked? A relationship? Or was he just too broken?