When Michael Met Mina (19 page)

Michael

Tonight Mina and I are messaging each other on Snapchat as we do our homework. She tells me she's considering journalism, and I tell her she'd be the perfect news anchor: argumentative and unrelenting. Then, with a smile, I send her another message.
And not just SBS material either
. She sends me a funny photo, eyebrows raised, mouth gaping open in shock.

Mum calls me a short while later. She's forgotten a bunch of important paperwork at home and asks me to drop it off to the local RSL, where Aussie Values is having a meeting.

Reluctantly, I drag Nathan away from the iPad and head to the RSL. I walk into the room and to my surprise I see that the numbers have almost doubled. Nathan points out Mum and Dad, who are at the front of the room addressing the audience.

Dad's updating everybody about the Jordan Springs campaign, and some of the alliances that are being built with grassroots groups in the area who also oppose the opening of the school. There's furious nodding of heads, a couple of small cheers from the audience as he speaks.

Mum notices me up and gives me a small wave.
I gesture that I'm leaving the folder on the table next to me, and she nods and gave me a thumbs-up. Nathan and I turn to walk out, but Andrew's suddenly before us, a big smile on his face.

‘Michael! Nathan! Where've you been? We've missed you.
Young blood
, mate. We need more young blood spreading the message.' He grins at me.

‘Yeah, um, I've been busy with schoolwork.'

‘Oh sure, right. Year eleven's a tough year. Home stretch now.'

He keeps me standing there listening to his small talk, bragging about all the work he's putting into the campaign, the hits he's getting on his blog. The One Direction piece has been picked up and shared by some famous activists in France and the US. And then I hear my mum speaking on the microphone. ‘There's no jobs for them, so they hang around all day and are dependent on welfare.' Her voice isn't shrill and hysterical like some of the other members. There's a pleasant and easy-going calmness in her tone. ‘Why, just the other day my son Michael, who was on his school holidays, saw a group of African men just hanging around, midweek, in the street, using the traffic bollards as seats, if you can imagine that.' A few people in the audience laugh. Andrew lets out a loud guffaw. My mouth is suddenly unbearably dry, like a cracked riverbed after a long drought.

Mum's relaxed in front of the audience, slowly pacing to the right and left, weaving the microphone cord around her hand. ‘The problem is that our economy isn't producing enough jobs for Aussie citizens,' she continues, ‘let alone all these refugees who come in and obviously can't find work. We end up having to finance their welfare. The government must be held accountable for this mess.'

A heat begins to build in my chest, growing, uncontainable. I feel dirty, as though I've stripped those men of their dignity, taken something intimate between them and caused it to be the subject of public ridicule.

I can't bear to stay there a second longer. I tell Nathan we're going and walk out, ignoring Andrew who calls out to me.

As I drive home it hits me so hard that I have to stop on the side of the road and focus on my breathing, on not breaking down in front of Nathan, who's buying my line about listening for something in the engine.

I feel as though a chasm has opened between my parents and me and that things between us can never be the same again.

To tell them how I feel means attacking the very core of who they are, what gives them meaning and purpose in their lives. I feel stuck, as if the only choice in front of me is keeping silent or breaking their hearts.

*

I pick Mina up in my car from the local library. We listen to music in the car, not embarrassed to sing along quietly to ourselves. Mina has no idea where I'm taking her. I tell her I've organised a day for us to just hang out.

We haven't so much as held hands, and we haven't spoken about what's going on between us. I think we're too scared to give ‘us' a name. We've been hanging out together at school, mainly during our free study period. Nobody has guessed anything yet, although obviously Paula knows. We call or message each other in the evenings and sometimes study together over the phone.

‘So what are we doing?' Mina asks, looking out the window as we drive. ‘Where are we going?'

‘I'll tell you when we get there. What time are they picking you up from the library?'

‘Six. Going straight to the restaurant from there.'

My phone beeps. I check the message. It's Mum, and I quickly send a reply.

‘She wants me to pick up some food from that Middle Eastern restaurant in the Village on my way home tonight . . . they've got a meeting tonight.'

‘So they'll eat Middle Eastern cuisine while they talk about keeping Middle Easterners out?'

‘Pretty much.'

‘Wow. I'm speechless.'

‘Miracle.'

Mina hits me playfully on the arm and I feel electricity pass between us.

‘I've got to hand it to them,' she says, ‘it's impressive, maintaining that kind of hypocrisy. No offence.'

‘It's okay. You have the right to be mad at them. Anyway, change the topic. Today's not about them. It's about us.'

‘Us?' she grins.

‘Yeah.' I grin back. ‘And pizza.'

I pull into the kerb in front of my favourite pizza shop.

‘Vegetarian and seafood?' I ask her.

‘Double supreme with extra ham thanks.'

I almost fall for it and she laughs. She waits in the car as I run out and grab the order.

‘So, what's the plan?' she whines. ‘Come on, tell me.'

‘Nope.'

It doesn't take long for us to arrive at the beach. I know that the point I'm taking us to won't be busy. It's winter, always the best time to visit the beach in my opinion.

I park the Jeep, the rear facing the beach. I open the boot door. I tell Mina to wait outside in the front and not sneak a peek.

I set up the cushions in the back and take out the portable DVD player.

‘Okay, you can come round now,' I call out to her.

She walks slowly towards the rear of the car, eyeing me suspiciously. ‘What's going on?'

‘We've got a view of the sea while we eat pizza for lunch and watch
The Great Gatsby
. And I've managed to hook up the sound to the car stereo so the background soundtrack will blow your mind.'

A smile spreads slowly up to her eyes and she grins.

‘Not bad, Michael Blainey. Not bad at all.'

*

After the movie we're sitting on a bench at the lookout. Mina's sitting close to me, my arm around her shoulders. Her hair smells like shampoo, her breath like the raspberry lollies we've just eaten. I have my iPod on my lap, the volume on max.

‘What was it like, Mina?' I ask her, treading carefully. ‘Coming out here on the boat?'

She doesn't answer straightaway, just looks out at the sea.

‘Every moment I was awake I thought we were going to die,' she says quietly. ‘I couldn't swim. It was just ocean and there we were in a boat made of wood, trusting people who had taken our money on a promise they'd get us here safely. We all knew they couldn't make any promises, not on a boat like that, not with people who'd believe anything because the alternative was too awful.'

I feel unworthy of responding. I just let her talk. Eventually, a comfortable silence settles between us, as we each get lost in our own thoughts.

‘So how old is your brother?' Mina asks me. ‘I saw him on the show. He looks like you.'

‘Lucky guy.'

She pokes her tongue out at me.

‘Nathan's ten.'

‘Hasan would have been ten this year.'

‘Oh. I'm sorry.' I heave a sigh. ‘What's a person even supposed to say? It's too awful.'

‘I can't remember his face.' She says it matter-of-factly, but her face reveals the agony behind the words. She draws her knees up against her chest on the bench and wraps her arms around them.

‘We don't have any photos. There was no death certificate. We were in this weird waiting room, trying to get from our homeland to a safe place, and it's like life becomes nothing there. Death literally snatched people away and nobody gave a shit. I feel like
. . .
like if I don't remember his face then there's nothing left to prove he existed.'

‘But you and your mum know he existed.'

‘I can't explain. It's more than that. It's like all these nameless, faceless people getting killed all around the world every day and nobody gives a shit because they're not Aussie or American or French, you know what I mean? It's like dying and getting killed is just something
people like us
do. It doesn't shock anybody. If we live, then people are surprised.' She lets out a short laugh. ‘If I can at least remember Hasan's face then I bring him out of that fog. He becomes real and he matters.' She shrugs and then tilts her head to face me.

‘What's Nathan like?' she asks, smiling at me.

‘He's a great kid. Crazy about planes and gaming. A straight shooter. Remembers everything and has zero problem reminding you of a time you stuffed up even if it was two years ago. I worry about him. A lot.'

‘Why?'

‘Because I won't always be around to protect him. When he was younger we'd be at the park and I'd see the way some kids had this sixth sense for picking up his vulnerability. And he had no idea they were after him. They'd be asking him if he's a retard, stuff like that, and he'd have this goofy, innocent grin on his face. I'd tell off the kids. Sometimes their parents too.' I laugh.

‘My mum's having a baby,' she says. ‘I can't wait to be a big sister again. But it's terrifying too. The job of protecting somebody.'

‘I went to the Auburn mosque,' I suddenly find myself saying. ‘Hung out in Auburn for a bit.'

She puts her feet back down on the ground, gives me a searching look and then grins. ‘You stalked my hood?'

I laugh. ‘Yeah.'

‘Should I be worried? Creepy or endearing?'

‘Let's leave it at endearingly creepy.'

And then, because I can't hold out any longer, I take a chance, lean in and kiss her. So softly it makes my insides ache.

Mina

At work that night all I can think about is my first kiss.

I replay it over and over in my mind, a dreamy, goofy expression on my face. I can't think straight. I have to double-check my running of the accounts several times because I keep making mistakes. Every time I think of our lips locking, the feel of our tongues meeting, the tenderness with which he held me close to him, my stomach plunges the same way it does on a roller-coaster ride. A part of me feels guilty. I know I've gone against my faith and culture, betrayed my parents who would never, ever think to doubt my word. I'm racked with guilt about deceiving them. But the temptation is too great, the excitement too much to resist. I've been strong for so long and Michael's attention to me, the way he makes me feel, is just too powerful to turn away from. And I see the power I have over him when I smile at him, flash him a look, turn my head a certain way. I see his body tense up, the look of anticipation in his eyes. The thrill of knowing I have that kind of effect on someone is intoxicating.

‘You're in a very cheerful mood tonight!' Baba exclaims as he files something in the drawer behind the counter.

I don't dare look him in the eye.

‘Did you taste the kofta challow?'

I shake my head. ‘No, I had the lamb korma though. Delicious.'

‘Those new boys can cook. We should get them on that
Chefmastering
show.' He laughs, pleased with his idea.

‘
MasterChef
, Baba,' I correct him gently with a smile.

Yep it's all smiles tonight. I feel alive, every cell in my body buzzing in a way I've never felt before.

*

‘He came up with the idea all by himself?
The Great Gatsby?
In the back of his Jeep Wrangler? At the beach? With a pizza picnic?'

‘Yes.' Even though we're sitting in a quiet section of the school lawn, I look around self-consciously, worried somebody might hear.

‘Michael Blainey?'

I nod, my eyes shining at her.

Paula clasps her hands together and pretends to swoon. ‘Enough said. I'm quoteless. The end.'

‘Well this is a first.'

‘Seriously, only a complete idiot wouldn't have been able to see you two were falling for each other.' She twirls a strand of her hair around her finger and fixes her clear green eyes on me. ‘So the next crucial question is this: good kisser?'

I blush. ‘How did you know we kissed?'

She rolls around the grass, laughing hysterically.

‘What?!'

‘You're such a dag!' she cries when she's caught her breath.

‘Seriously, how did you know?'

‘You just told me, dummy. Oldest trick in the book. First time?'

I nod. ‘Yep.'

‘Lived up to expectations? Or do you feel cheated out of your foolish daydreams?'

‘Neither. Exceeded expectations.'

‘Nice work, Michael!'

We laugh and I feel giddy with the excitement of it all.

She sits up on her knees. ‘Oh, hey, I'm organising a
poetry slam festival here at school at the end of term!
Please
say you'll perform! The more people the better, and I know you'll be awesome.'

‘No way!' I say. ‘I'll leave the performing to you.'

‘Oh, come on! Please!'

‘I can't do slam poetry!'

‘Just tell me you'll think about it.' She bats her eyelashes at me, clasps her hands together as though she's praying. ‘Please? Pretty please?'

I laugh, hit her on the shoulder. ‘Oh, fine, I'll
think
about it.'

‘Good girl. I already have some year tens who want to sign up.'

‘Poor kids don't know what they're in for.'

‘You can perform a love poem to Michael,' she teases.

‘Don't make me gag,' I say. ‘I don't do corny.'

‘Okay, then he can perform one for you.'

‘I can't see that ending in anything but
goodbye Michael
.'

‘Well he's over there, looking this way, and judging from the expression on his face it's
hello Mina
.'

I shake my head at her, but can't help laughing. ‘I never thought I'd say this, Paula, but it's getting way too corny here and I actually miss the Oscar Wilde quotes.'

‘Oh goody. Then take this one:
I can resist everything except temptation
.' She stands up as Michael approaches us. ‘And on that note, I'll leave you two alone.'

She winks at me and walks away, her laugh echoing behind her.

*

The sky is angry today; ash and lead, covered in grey cottonwool. The complete opposite of how I feel inside. Inside I'm a kid running through a backyard sprinkler on a stinking hot day.

I dump my bag in my locker and head to home room. I spot Michael sitting next to Terrence and Fred at the back and my insides go all funny. I'm trying to keep a straight face, give nothing away. He winks at me when no one's looking and I hide my grin by covering my mouth and pretending to cough. Leica's bent over her desk, head leaning down on her hands, eyes closed. Jane's beside her, biting her nails, nervously throwing glances towards the back of the room. But it's only Michael, Terrence and Fred in the back row and they're not looking at her.

I sit down, saving the seat beside me for Paula who's running late. She walks in as Mr Morello starts marking the roll.

It takes me less than a second to notice something's wrong. ‘What happened?'

She slumps low in her chair, fixes her eyes on the desk. ‘Nancy called last night,' she says quietly. ‘She got a job in New York.'

‘Oh.'

‘She was supposed to be back next month. I was counting down the days.'

Mr Morello's collecting the diaries to check parents have signed his notes. We pass ours up to the front.

‘What did your parents say?'

She shrugs. ‘They're happy for her. Less guilt if she's not around.'

‘Maybe they're just happy for her getting that kind of opportunity.'

She doesn't look convinced.

‘They love you, Paula. They just have high-end jobs. It's shitty but has nothing to do with their love for you.'

‘So what if they love me? I'm their daughter. That's their job.'

I don't have an answer to that.

‘I should have known Nancy wouldn't come back.
I miss her so badly. I feel so lonely at home since she left. I can't remember the last time I had quality time with my parents. Most weeknights I'm in bed before they get home, or else it's a short excuse of a D&M when I know they're hanging for a shower and bed before it all starts again the next morning.'

I listen without saying anything, giving her the space to pour it all out.

‘She could have come back, got a job here, moved out and got a place of her own. I could have at least visited her then. We'd have each other. There's no way she'll return.' She groans. ‘I can't compete with New York. She'll meet some hot guy and they'll spend their time having picnics in Central Park and watching
Law & Order
being filmed on location.'

‘A couple of years and you can move out too.'

Her eyes narrow. ‘You bet.'

Mr Morello's voice interrupts us. ‘Joy, Craig, Paula, your parents
still
haven't signed your diaries. There are notes here that are over a month old. I've called and left several messages with your parents.'

Paula squirms in her seat. She looks ashamed. Mr Morello notices. He glances her way, pauses for a moment, puts the diaries aside and says he'll deal with the matter later.

‘My parents don't sign my diary all the time either,' I tell her.

‘Do they ignore five calls from school? My mum actually complained to me that she feels harassed. It's on her to-do list, she said.'

‘Below colonic irrigation? Brazilian wax?'

That gets a smile out of her.

Mr Morello reads out some announcements. We almost make it to the bell but Terrence gets up to throw something in the rubbish and notices Paula as he passes.

‘What's with you girls? You're always PMSing. Have you been
crying
, Paula?'

‘No,' she snaps.

‘You sure? Your face is all blotched and puffy.' He laughs, shoots the scrunched up bit of paper in his hand into the bin.

‘Knock it off, Terrence,' Michael says, but Terrence is in a goofball mood and having too much fun.

‘Relax,' Terrence says.

‘Sit down, Terrence,' Mr Morello barks at him.

‘But, sir, Paula's crying.'

‘She's not crying, you idiot!' I yell.

Paula stands up. ‘Screw you, Terrence,' she says and runs out of class.

Mr Morello gives Terrence a detention. Terrence acts like his human rights have been violated. The bell rings. Mr Morello asks Paula to skip the next class and meet him in his office. Jane looks upset but her eyes are following Terrence, not her cousin. Michael looks embarrassed on behalf of his dirt-bag friend and I'm staring daggers at Terrence.

*

I close in on Michael in the hallway on our way to English.

‘Your friend is a jerk,' I say in a low voice so only he can hear.

‘Yeah. I know.' He looks guiltily at me. ‘I'll talk to him.'

Terrence is ahead, Jane on one side, Fred and Leica on the other. They're all laughing.

I corner Jane at lunchtime.

‘She's your cousin.'

She looks guilty for a moment, then flicks her hair and says, ‘So?'

‘So Terrence gives her a hard time and you still act like he's God's gift?'

‘He's only mucking around.' She rolls her eyes. ‘That's what he's like. He's always joking. She shouldn't take things so seriously. He was fine at lunch the other day, remember?'

‘So he can do normal and jerk. How is that an excuse?'

‘There's another side to him. I told you.'

‘What kind of excuse is that?
Oh he's not a jerk
all
the time
. I don't know why you insist on defending him.'

She blushes. ‘We're kind of . . . well, we might be going out.'

I blink slowly. ‘What do you mean,
might be
?'

She laughs nervously and runs her fingers through her hair. ‘Okay, I'm dying to tell somebody. Leica's having a fight with Cameron so she's in her own world at the moment. I feel bad opening up to her when she's feeling so low.' She sighs, then takes a step closer to me and leans in. ‘We hooked up on the weekend.' Her eyes flash with excitement. ‘At Kaleb's party.'

I look at her, aghast. ‘You're dating him now?'

‘I mean I wasn't planning on, you know, going all the way with him. But he made me feel so special
. . .
And I felt bad leading him on and then, you know, stopping.' She sees the look of horror on my face. ‘No, it's not like
that.
I wanted him to.'

I let out a slow breath and she shakes her head. ‘Maybe it happened quicker than I expected but it's fine . . .' But her tone doesn't inspire confidence. She can tell I'm sceptical.

‘You think I'm a slut, don't you?' she says.

‘What?'

‘Just because you come from a backwards culture you think I'm a slut now.'

I feel like she's slapped me in the face. I stare at her, stunned and hurt. Just as soon as the words escape her mouth I can tell she regrets them. Her shoulders deflate and she looks at me, ashamed.

‘I'm sorry, Mina. I didn't mean to say that. I'm just not so sure of where Terrence and I stand
now
, after the weekend . . .' Her voice trails off and she shrugs. ‘It hurts so bad, Mina. Not knowing. I thought he'd pay me more attention this morning in home room. But he was distant. Then in the hallway he was warm and funny.' She's lost in her own thoughts, biting on a nail. ‘Maybe he's trying to protect me? Like, not let everyone know about us until we've spoken about it?'

‘Yeah, probably,' I say. A part of me pities her. But there's a part of me too that can't believe she's fallen for somebody so mean.

‘Anyway, I'll sort it out.' She puts on a brave face and smiles at me. ‘Don't tell anybody, promise?'

‘Yeah, I promise.'

‘And I'm sorry. Really.'