Sex Crimes (2 page)

I pulled my lips tightly together. I was not going to go there. If I blabbed about that night with Chris Bergin, my reputation would take a hit too.

‘I can’t tell you that because it’s mega and if it got out…well…let’s just say it would be an utter, utter shit-fest.’

‘Whoa,’ Lola said and squinted against the glare of the sun, falling into a quiet reflection.

‘She’s going to the school counsellor next week and then they’re going to tell her parents together.’ I felt sick at the thought of it. I was so frickin’ glad this was not happening to me. ‘They are going to explode. Like a nuclear explosion.’

‘Why won’t she just get rid of it? I know a couple of girls who’ve done it and it’s like nothing. She’s too young. It’s mental.’ Lola said, almost to herself and then a light went off in her head. ‘Hey you guys went to that
Drop Dead Gorgeous
gig last month didn’t you? Did she meet someone there? Is that the secret? Some tall, dark handsome stranger?’

I thought about Chris Bergin. His long, lean legs, fair curls of hair on his gorgeous chest. His blue eyes and wavy brown hair. Those lips and the bristle of his handsome cheeks. 

‘Tall. Yes. Dark, no. And that’s all you’re getting from me!’ I couldn’t help myself but it was still cryptic enough. Lola wouldn’t for a minute think it was the lead singer. She was probably imagining it was some other punter from the audience.

‘Well, I’m sure it will all come out sooner or later,’ Lola said giving a little shrug.

‘You can’t say a thing! Okay?’ I said squeezing her bony arm. ‘Not to anyone. Swear.’

‘I promise,’ she replied, shaking off my hand. ‘I’m not some loose-lipped gossip. Her secret’s safe with me. My word is my bond, Abbie.’

I watched as Lola Kelly walked away. She had a perky little butt and long glossy hair. We weren’t exactly friends but I’d known her for a long time. Since primary school. She was okay and I didn’t think she’d be a Clatterfart who shared it around like a bad case of herpes. There were plenty of gossips at Beekman but Lola was sweet.

The bell rang, startling a gathering of birds who screamed out of the trees like a feathered explosion.

I missed Libby. She was home. Sick. The morning sickness nausea was pretty bad apparently. She told me on the phone the night before that she felt sea-sick, like constantly.

She’d been pretty stoked to hear that I’d set up a fake Facebook account and found Megan Bergin. I’d gathered about thirty fake friends so that it wasn’t so obvious I was a stalker or a fan of her husband’s. My friend request to her was pending. Unfortunately her privacy settings were tight so I couldn’t check out her photos and timeline but her profile picture wasn’t all that hot. She looked homely. Kind of dumpy and bland. Not the sort of chick you’d expect to hook up with a rock-star.

I’d googled everything I could on Chris Bergin and here’s what I’d got so far. He was thirty-one. That totally freaked me because he was older than I thought. Over thirty. That was a record for me. That’s practically ancient. He was born in Adelaide but he moved to Leura in the Blue Mountains. I’d been there with my oldies and it wasn’t a very big place. I was thinking that finding him might just be supremely doable. He liked motor car racing and had a kick-arse car collection. His wife was a childhood sweetheart. They went to high-school together. Blurghhh. Sickening.

I know we studied a book by Megan Perkins but I never read anything. Books are a drag. If they make a movie of her books, then I might be interested in that. But these days, that’s the only way you’re going to get a story into my brain. I just used to get Libby to read the books because she’s good at English and all that and then she would just tell me what it was all about. Worked for me!

So, Bergin had been with his wife since they were kids. I looked around at the dickheads at school and the idea of hooking up with one of them, like now, as a teenager and then sticking together for years and years…I just couldn’t come at that idea.

Those early relationships never last. My mother told me not to get hitched until I’m about thirty. She said most relationships have a use by date so it’s best to wait. She might have known something about that because she’d just divorced her third husband. She tends to be attracted to wealthy dudes with more hair on their backs than on their heads.  It was completely probable that Chris was sick of his dowdy wife. I guess that much had been obvious while he was getting down and dirty with me and Libby. Happily married men don’t invite teenage girls back to their hotel rooms. That’s a fact.

But I wasn’t sure how he was going to take Libby’s news. Not well, I was thinking. He’d probably offer her money to keep her mouth shut. I think that’s what she was counting on, to start with. A healthy bribe. That way, she could keep his identity a secret and be set up for life.
Drop Dead Gorgeous
were only the most famous band this country has ever seen. After
INXS
maybe. But
INXS
were old, they’d broken up and their singer had been dead since before I was born. But
DDG
, they’ve had hits all over the world and that makes them filthy rich. Chris has been photographed with Oprah and the American president and he hangs out with Hollywood A-listers. He was so off his dial when we had that hotel thing going on. Cocaine and God knows what else. E’s and beer as well. I was more than a little wasted myself.

I just couldn’t wrap my head around Libby falling pregnant that night. I know I was real careful with condoms and shit. I think I did fall asleep for a bit so they might have got into it then because as I recall, I was the only one that got some real action. Chris actually made us get into some girl on girl action. It was kind of fun but freaky. We just hammed it up and all those acting classes came in handy. It was like some silly porno performance. Libby seemed to get into it. Bit creepy.

I hoped Libby knew what she was doing. If it was me? I’d have been to the doctor asap to have it removed. I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. Just whoosh. Gone. I wouldn’t throw my life away for a baby now. I’m sixteen and I’ve got a lot of partying to do before I settle down. This whole drama was going to cause a rift in my friendship with Libby. I could tell. Even back then. She’d be fat and miserable for months and then tied down with a screaming baby. She was being a fool. But she was stubborn and there was no telling her anything. Stupid bitch.

My phone made a noise in my pocket. I thought it was set to silent. Beekman was a no-phones school and that would have been an instant detention if a teacher had heard it. I checked the new notification. No shit. It was Megan  K. Bergin. She’d accepted my friend request. That was totally awesome. I took off like a jack-rabbit to the loos and locked myself in a cubicle.
Call Libby
, I hissed at it. I could not wait to tell her the good news. We were uber-detectives and we were closing in on our target.

3.

Lola Kelly

I like Chester. He’s a bit of a goof-ball but he’s funny and kind of cute in a Shaggy from Scooby-Doo sort of way. He’s usually so laid back he’s nearly asleep so he really freaked me out when he grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me into the photography room.

‘We need to talk,’ he’d almost growled.

I wasn’t scared. More like a bit alarmed. I’d never said more than a handful or words to him unless we were paired up for some impro during open classes.

‘What’s the matter, Chester?’ I said. ‘Let go of me.’

He let me go roughly and I stood facing him, leaning back against the long bench-desk and raised my eyebrows, indicating that I’d like some answers.

‘Brent told me that you’ve been whispering around school that Libby O’Neil is pregnant.’

His eyes were wild and he looked like he was shaking a bit. I just shrugged lamely.

‘That’s really cruel and bitchy. Saying that kind of shit really can mess with a girl’s reputation. What’s she ever done to you!?’ he fumed.

I took a deep breath. Shit. This business was getting out of hand. I’d only told Jacinta. That’s all. And maybe Hayley. But it was Abigail doing most of the whispering as far as I was concerned. But this was not my problem, it was Libby’s and I’d be damned if I was going to cover her arse.

‘Chester,’ I said slowly. ‘I would never be such a bitch. I only know what I’ve been told and I have it on good authority that Libby O’Neil is in fact, pregnant. And word is that she is keeping it.’

He looked at me intently. Scanning my face. Reading me. He cocked his head, his mousy brown hair falling over his face and he looked completely spooked and even more like Shaggy.

‘Shit!’ he muttered.

‘What’s it to you anyway?’ I asked and stood up to leave. ‘Since when did you give a crap about Libby O’Neil and become her champion or whatever?’

He shrugged and didn’t look at me. I bent down trying to figure what the hell was his problem and saw that his face was pink and his eyes were, yes, his eyes were wet.

‘Are you crying?’ I asked.

‘No!’ he snapped back. ‘I’ve got a cold.’ And he gave a wet sniff as if to prove it.

‘OH. MY. GOD.’ I said heavily as it dawned on me. ‘You. It was you! Did you do Libby O’Neil? She’s in Year Ten and you’re a senior. Ew.’

‘I…it wasn’t,’ he stammered and I knew I had him.

‘I won’t tell anyone. Abigail told me, well, as much as told me that it was someone Libby met at that
Drop Dead Gorgeous
gig last month. That was obviously just to throw me off the scent.’

‘But are you sure, Lola? This might be just a stupid rumour or Libby trying to get attention. She is a drama queen.’ Chester stammered.

He had a point. Libby O’Neil was a bit of an attention seeker. Actually more than just a bit.

‘True. But I think it’s real. She’s going to the school counsellor next week and she’s telling her parents then.’

‘Oh, shit!’ Chester shook his head. His blue eyes were hectic, darting this way and that. ‘I’m going to be in the shit. When my parents find out…oh shit. Why doesn’t she just…you know…have a termination?’

I shrugged.

‘You’d have to ask her.’

‘Say nothing, Lola. If you blab…I’ll tell everyone that you gave Hobbsy a blow job in the dark room.’

I looked at him. Shocked. Bloody Michael Hobbs must have blabbed to his mates. Arsehole. Chester looked wild and I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to follow through with his threat.

‘Fine. Your secret’s safe with me,’ I said and I really meant it.

I liked Chester. He was actually really cute when he got animated. I hadn’t noticed that before.

We walked back out into the sunshine together and I gave him a little pat on the arm. His skin was warm and the light hairs on his arm were soft.

‘It’ll be okay, Chez.’

I had to finish Wuthering Heights for English so I took myself off to the big fig tree in the courtyard and sat against the trunk and began reading. It was a good story but the language was a bit turgid and heavy. I didn’t relate to Cathy at all. She was wild and a risk taker. That’s not me. I play it safe. I couldn’t believe Chester knew about that BJ I gave Michael. It was the first and only time. I was still carrying my V card and that sort of gossip would have totally destroyed my reputation. Unfortunately if Chester knew, then probably his little group of abstract performers did too. Hopefully it was contained to Chester and Michael’s little club of outsiders. Maybe Michael only told Chester. They’re tight. Like bro’s. It was concerning.

I may have blabbed a little about Libby and the ‘tummy bug’ but I made a firm commitment to myself that day to keep Chester’s secret, at least until it became common knowledge. Which it would. Stuff like that goes like a bush fire. It spreads. Fast and furious. On that particular day Libby’s pregnancy was like a flint sparking on dry leaves but it was going to be fanned by teenage speculation and I just decided right then to keep out of it because I for one did not want to get burned.

***

4.

Chester McNaughton

She’d been totally avoiding me. For two weeks. I knew she was at school for one day during that last week because everyone was talking about it. There was an appointment at the school counsellor’s office and everyone, and I do mean everyone, was watching, when Mr and Mrs O’Neil arrived and everyone was also watching when they left, dragging Libby behind them an hour later. All of them had clearly been crying. I caught Libby’s eye but she just gave me a faint, almost imperceptible head-shake. What the hell did that mean? She couldn’t avoid me forever. I had a stake in this.

I looked at her front door. It was solid. Wooden. Smooth and had an old-fashioned brass knocker. Taking a deep breath, that felt like dry ice in my chest, I leaned forward and rapped three times. It was louder than I expected. I’d been to this house a hundred times. My folks are best friends with the O’Neil’s. My dad teaches at Sydney Uni with Tom O’Neil. Stuffy academics.

I’d been losing sleep wondering if Libby had told them about me. It’s not like we were an item. We weren’t going out or anything. Just friends. But we crossed the line back there that day and who knew it was going to end up like that. I was kind of hoping it was the beginning of something between us but I wasn’t thinking ‘baby’,  more like a casual sort of dating arrangement.

Libby was a cool sort of chick. Pretty in an elfin sort of way and she’d been very affectionate that day. Almost rabid really. She certainly didn’t force herself on me but she was what you might call, ‘pretty forward’. It took me by surprise really because up until that point she’d always been a bit distant and aloof with me. Laid back and cool. But the day of her father’s birthday party, she’d dragged me up to her room and just offered it up. As if I was going to refuse.

The door opened and it was Mrs O’Neil. Her eyes looked like they’d been sown in with red cotton and her nose was chaffed from all the tissues she’d been blowing into, I presumed. Not a happy woman.

‘Chester? Hi there,’ she smiled and nodded.