Outside In (7 page)

74% report getting clumsy or tonguetied around
the one

Sam instantly aligned himself with the 74%. But then again, when he thought about it more, he actually got tongue-tied a lot of the time. It wasn't confined to talking with Meredith. In fact, he was often worse with other girls. Cecilia could make him go completely mute, and he definitely didn't like her like that. Sam moved on.

68% report thinking about
the one
constantly

Hmmm. What was constantly? A few times a day? Every second? Yeah, she did seem to jump into his mind. Quite a lot, actually, but maybe not constantly. Really, the site wasn't very clear. Sam scrolled down.

85% report that they hold eye contact for up to ten seconds longer with
the one
than with other people

Sam breathed out a sigh. The whole thing was like a giant riddle, waiting to be solved.

He tried to use the mouse to scroll down. The computer froze. It did that sometimes, for no apparent reason. But now was particularly
not
a good time. Sam's sister Lauren was stomping down the hallway towards his room.

‘Saaam,' she called as she came closer. ‘Mum wants to know if Jack's coming for dinner on Monday? She's going shopping and needs to know whether to get a leg of lamb or an entire beast.'

Suddenly, she was at the bedroom door. She was wearing a yellow dress and a smirk. ‘Oh yeah, and she also wants you to clean up the bathroom. Dad's razor and stuff.'

Sam closed the lid of his laptop. He knew he should shut it down first. But this was an emergency.

‘So you did it, finally?' Lauren said. She sniffed at his bedroom, fingers pinching her nose. ‘It stinks in here.'

‘Then feel free to f--- off,' Sam countered. He folded his arms, ready for combat. But Lauren was the braver soldier. She walked right in.

‘Give us a look,' she demanded.

Sam rolled his eyes. He stared at the roof as Lauren inspected his upper lip. There was a spider web in the corner.

‘Not bad,' Lauren said. ‘Just a little cut over there.'

She sat on Sam's unmade bed and arranged a big sisterly look on her face, probably borrowed from one of her stupid American sitcoms. She was all furrowed brows and quizzical mouth.

‘So, how come you did it? You trying to impress someone?'

Sam shrugged. He wondered if Lauren had caught a glimpse of the screen before he'd closed the lid. He decided that she couldn't have. But then, where did the question come from?

‘It's OK,' Lauren said, ‘happens to everyone, sooner or later.'

She looked thoughtful, kind of dazed. She often wore this look when she talked about her boyfriend, Nelson. Sam liked Nelson. He was a good bloke. But he and Lauren were hopeless together. They were either attached to each other, some part of their bodies joined like Siamese twins, or they weren't speaking to each other.

Sam found it quite amusing, their dramas. Especially the not-speaking when they were on the phone. That was a classic. Lauren would lie on her bed in the next room. There would be a clump of words, followed by huffing, then silence. Why didn't they just hang up? It was all pretty funny except when Lauren ended up crying. When that happened, Sam would put on his headphones and listen to his iPod.

‘Sam?' There was something different about Lauren's tone. Normally, she hissed his name. Now her voice seemed soft around the edges. Her sitcom face wasn't so sitcom anymore.

He'd never really thought about what had caused all those silences. What made his sister cry. It was kind of crazy that he hadn't because he seemed to be thinking about stuff all the time.

‘If you're gonna like someone…' Lauren played with the hem of her dress. She twirled it around her fingers until it looked like the material was going to split. ‘Make sure it's someone who likes you too.'

Man. It was hard enough to try to decipher his own feelings. How could he know how Meredith felt? By looking at some lame website? Like, was the bum fluff comment supposed to relay some hidden meaning? That she liked him enough to notice? Or did it just mean that she had noticed?

Lauren sighed as she got up. It seemed like she had given Sam a part of herself, and had become exhausted in the process.

Sam thought he should feel like something had been unlocked. Like she'd given him a key to the truth about how relationships worked.

Instead he felt like he was standing, toes over, at the edge of a cliff.

Sam walked in a straight line and thought in a circle. Kind of like patting your head and rubbing your stomach. Rubbing your stomach and patting your head.

There were options. He could stir Meredith, give her some of her own medicine. He could say, for instance, ‘Hey, Moo. Your boobs are certainly getting bigger. Maybe you should think about a bra?' Or, ‘How are your periods coming along? Giving you any grief?'

The thoughts tugged at the sides of his mouth, turning them up just a little. It wasn't something he would ever actually do. Anyway, she probably already wore a bra. It wasn't the kind of thing Sam normally noticed. And she was probably used to getting her periods. Probably wasn't any big deal for her.

He
could
avoid her, and that seemed the safest option. It wouldn't be that hard. Home group was the only time today that he and Meredith would be in the same room. He could miss that, if he dawdled some more. It would mean a late pass. One point, where three meant a detention. It was worth it. Wasn't it?

It would help if he knew himself. If he had a freaking clue who he was.

Sam put his bag under the park bench and watched the ducks paddle across the lake. He checked out the giant, life-sized chess set with its carved kings and queens and knights and of course pawns. They did a lot of work, those pawns. But ultimately they were expendable. They were there to provide a safe course for all the important pieces.

Home group would be just about over by now. Sam lifted his bag, hooked it securely around both shoulders, feeling the corner of his science textbook in his back. He ignored the path and walked instead on the perfect lawn.

He could see a bike flying down the path. As it came closer, clearer into view, he realised who was on it. There was no mistaking the way that Jack rode. Long legs pumping, coming right up towards his chin. He'd slung one handle of his backpack over a shoulder, the other flapping against his back. The bike was too small for him. Under anyone else it would look ridiculous. Under Jack, it was a statement.

Sam stepped onto the path. Waited. Jack didn't slow down. He glided through the curve in the path, and upped the tempo on the straight.

It was Sam's job to stay still. To test his nerve. Like standing against a wall while a knife thrower hurls his wares all around you, forming the shape of the body before you step away.

As he came closer, Jack leant back on the seat. He lifted the front wheel into the air and thudded it down a couple of centimeters from Sam's school shoes.

‘Hey, Sambo. You wagging?' he said.

‘No, well, kind of. You?'

‘Nah, just late. It's only home group.'

Sam knew Jack had two late passes, and this one would result in a detention. But he didn't mention it. Jack wouldn't care, he took that sort of thing in his stride. Sam would have stressed about it.

‘Mum wants to know if you're coming for tea on Monday,' Sam said.

‘What is it?'

‘Lamb.'

‘Yeah, then.'

Sam waited for a minute. He'd been meaning to ask Jack something and decided now was as good a time as any. ‘Have you told your dad about the basketball scout coming?'

‘Nah,' Jack said easily. ‘I'll tell him closer to the date. That way he might actually remember it.'

‘Yeah,' Sam agreed with a shrug and a nod. ‘That's a good idea. What does coach – '

‘You're bleeding, mate. Above your lip,' Jack interrupted.

Sam ran a finger over the space. He noticed Jack's upper lip had stubbles. Little dots of darkness impressed into his skin.

‘I shaved,' Sam admitted, wiping the little coagulated lump on his school pants. The cut bled again. Sam felt around his pockets and found a tissue that had gone through the wash.

‘So Meredith got to you, hey? Yeah. It's a pain in the arse, shaving,' Jack said.

Sam didn't know that Jack had heard what Meredith said. He wondered whether Jack could have helped somehow. Mates sticking up for mates or something. But how? How could Jack have helped?

Jack's pace was quick, even though he was pushing the bike along beside him. Sam had to hurry to keep up. He glanced sideways at his friend. Jack was taller, broader in the shoulders, better looking. He was more … everything.

For a while, there was no conversation. Just a comfortable silence, the click of bike wheels, the bird calls. Jack was still walking, still looking ahead of him, when he spoke.

‘Sambo, what do you reckon Jordan would say if I asked her to go out with me? Do you think she likes me that way?'

There was a moment where Sam almost laughed out loud. Jack must be joking. The girls at school were practically a smorgasboard for Jack. He could pick out whoever he wanted. Man, he'd been out with Tylah Peer. She was not only in the year above them, but she was probably the hottest girl in school. She could have been on magazine covers. Tylah was a bit stuck-up maybe, and Sam had never really been able to say more than two words to her, but she was definitely hot.

But Sam gulped back the laugh. He could see now, from Jack's grip on the handlebars, the whiteness of his knuckles, that he wasn't joking. He really wasn't sure how Jordan felt about him, really wasn't sure what she would say. It was unreal that Jack could honestly be unsure of himself. It sort of released something in Sam. A tension he'd been carrying around in his shoulders.

There wasn't much time between Jack's question and Sam's answer, so it was amazing that so many thoughts could swim around his head.

‘Well, apparently you can tell if someone likes you,' Sam began. ‘Statistics suggest that 85% of people hold eye contact for up to ten seconds longer with the person they like.'

Jack stopped walking. His head tilted as he took in what Sam had said. Then he released a laugh, and shook his head.

‘Geez, Sambo, you are a serious geek!' Jack paused for a moment. ‘But it's actually kind of cool.' He began moving again, and did a walking wheelie. Jack released a hand from the handlebars to deliver a massive corkie to Sam's arm.

Sam bit the inside of his lip to stop the grin as he rubbed his arm.

Jack was letting him into something. A club of sorts. Sam was now a guy to ask advice from. Sam was now a guy who shaved. Eventually, he would have stubbles impressed into his skin.

It felt pretty un-geeky, actually.

It was a strange morning. Sam's thoughts flipped around like fish in a bucket. Slippery. One minute, he felt like he desperately didn't want to run into Meredith. Then he was weirdly disappointed when he didn't.