insignificantas that made us. I let my guard down with Wolfboy, and I think he did the same with me. I like to think that I’m a good judge of people, but I guess I’m not.
At first Dreamer rock reminded me too much of Shyness, but I’m over that now. Now the music is only a tool to take me someplace else. I’ve trained my brain not to think about things that are not worth thinking about.
We express through Southside Station and, as always, I hold my breath as we pass my old school and look the other way, out over terracotta roof tiles and other people’s backyards. That school and those mean girls are in the past, along with so many other things from that time. I thought I’d have to wait until I finished school and moved out to change my life, but then I decided to start changing it immediately.
My job at the Emporium has been one of the best things to ever happen to me. A far cry from the days of slimy Neil and the call centre. But my final year of school starts next week and Mum has ordered me to cut down on my shifts, even though I know she’s grateful for the extra money I bring in. I haven’t spoken to Helen about it yet. I’m scared she’ll tell me she can’t fit me on the roster at all if I can’t do weekdays.
The train has emptied by the time we reach Plexus. The ugly towers of the Commons stick up above the skyline. Lights are beginning to ping on through the grounds.
I pull my earbuds out when I go through the gate and skirt the crowded basketball court.
‘Baby!’ yells someone from the knot of players, provoking a wave of shouted suggestions, some coming from kids too young to even know what they’re suggesting. I flip them the finger and watch them turn.
‘Bitch!’ screeches a boy, clinging to the wire fence.
I move to the fence so he can see I’m not scared. ‘Make up your mind,’ I say through the wire. ‘Am I your bitch or your baby?’ I throw an imaginary ball at his face, and laugh when he drops backwards off the fence. I walk fast, not too fast, to my building.
Mum is in the kitchen gathering together her handbag, her textbooks, and trying to tie her hair back.
‘Shouldn’t you have left already?’
‘I know, I know. I got held up making soup for you.’
‘I told you, I can feed myself.’
Mum kisses me on the cheek. She smells of this disgusting peach perfume I’ve been trying to wean her off for years. ‘I just want to do things properly, darling. Message me before you go to bed.’
Sometimes I don’t recognise this new mum, who cooks dinner and goes to night classes at TAFE and checks up on me constantly. She even looks like a student in the new jeans I helped her pick out. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be on the couch all night with my Lit reading.’
‘Good. Don’t stay up too late.’
I hand her a mandarin from the fruit bowl. She stops at the front door. ‘Oh, I checked the train times today. You’ll have to meet me at Central Station straight after school on Wednesday.’
‘Ma, I wasn’t joking when I said I’m not going to skip school in the first week. Go on your own to Fish Creek.’
‘But you never see your aunt. And what about your cousins?’
I feel like banging my head against the wall. She always springs this stuff on me just as she’s leaving the house. ‘First you carry on about marks and homework and university, then you try to pull me out of school for two days. The only reason you want me to come is because you’re scared you and Aunt Shell will wind up throttling each other as usual.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘It is true.’ I push her out the door before she starts going on about the sacrifices she’s made. ‘You’re late. Go to class.’
three
I’ve just hit the steep part
of Oleander Crescent when I see the dog under the only working street light. Its back curves in a bony arc as it fusses over something on the ground.
It turns to me with silvery eyes and flattened ears, before taking the thing in its
At first Dreamer rock reminded me too much of Shyness, but I’m over that now. Now the music is only a tool to take me someplace else. I’ve trained my brain not to think about things that are not worth thinking about.
We express through Southside Station and, as always, I hold my breath as we pass my old school and look the other way, out over terracotta roof tiles and other people’s backyards. That school and those mean girls are in the past, along with so many other things from that time. I thought I’d have to wait until I finished school and moved out to change my life, but then I decided to start changing it immediately.
My job at the Emporium has been one of the best things to ever happen to me. A far cry from the days of slimy Neil and the call centre. But my final year of school starts next week and Mum has ordered me to cut down on my shifts, even though I know she’s grateful for the extra money I bring in. I haven’t spoken to Helen about it yet. I’m scared she’ll tell me she can’t fit me on the roster at all if I can’t do weekdays.
The train has emptied by the time we reach Plexus. The ugly towers of the Commons stick up above the skyline. Lights are beginning to ping on through the grounds.
I pull my earbuds out when I go through the gate and skirt the crowded basketball court.
‘Baby!’ yells someone from the knot of players, provoking a wave of shouted suggestions, some coming from kids too young to even know what they’re suggesting. I flip them the finger and watch them turn.
‘Bitch!’ screeches a boy, clinging to the wire fence.
I move to the fence so he can see I’m not scared. ‘Make up your mind,’ I say through the wire. ‘Am I your bitch or your baby?’ I throw an imaginary ball at his face, and laugh when he drops backwards off the fence. I walk fast, not too fast, to my building.
Mum is in the kitchen gathering together her handbag, her textbooks, and trying to tie her hair back.
‘Shouldn’t you have left already?’
‘I know, I know. I got held up making soup for you.’
‘I told you, I can feed myself.’
Mum kisses me on the cheek. She smells of this disgusting peach perfume I’ve been trying to wean her off for years. ‘I just want to do things properly, darling. Message me before you go to bed.’
Sometimes I don’t recognise this new mum, who cooks dinner and goes to night classes at TAFE and checks up on me constantly. She even looks like a student in the new jeans I helped her pick out. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be on the couch all night with my Lit reading.’
‘Good. Don’t stay up too late.’
I hand her a mandarin from the fruit bowl. She stops at the front door. ‘Oh, I checked the train times today. You’ll have to meet me at Central Station straight after school on Wednesday.’
‘Ma, I wasn’t joking when I said I’m not going to skip school in the first week. Go on your own to Fish Creek.’
‘But you never see your aunt. And what about your cousins?’
I feel like banging my head against the wall. She always springs this stuff on me just as she’s leaving the house. ‘First you carry on about marks and homework and university, then you try to pull me out of school for two days. The only reason you want me to come is because you’re scared you and Aunt Shell will wind up throttling each other as usual.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘It is true.’ I push her out the door before she starts going on about the sacrifices she’s made. ‘You’re late. Go to class.’
three
I’ve just hit the steep part
of Oleander Crescent when I see the dog under the only working street light. Its back curves in a bony arc as it fusses over something on the ground.
It turns to me with silvery eyes and flattened ears, before taking the thing in its
Similar Books
Sophie's Path
Catherine Lanigan
The War Planners
Andrew Watts
Her Counterfeit Husband
Ruth Ann Nordin
Mudshark
Gary Paulsen
The Wise Book of Whys
Daven Hiskey, Today I Found Out.com
Polar Reaction
Claire Thompson
The Mystery of Olga Chekhova
Antony Beevor