‘Happy birthday!’
Atticus got up and pulled the string and paper off. He seemed both genuinely moved and surprised with the gift. He thanked his friends, then hugged them one by one. He was so tall he towered over everyone, an enormous grinning stick insect.
‘Cooper made it,’ Cate said, beaming. ‘Isn’t he clever?’
‘Very,’ Atticus said, looking me over. With his height and intense dark gaze he was an intimidating eyeful. Apart from his lack of hair I would never have guessed that he’d recently been in hospital.
He stood next to me, crossed his arms over his chest and glanced approvingly over the easel. ‘Looks like you know what you’re doing.’
He sounded superior, like a teacher. Why wouldn’t I know what I was doing? I gestured towards one of the paintings on his wall.
‘Looks like you know what you’re doing, too.’
‘Getting there,’ he said. ‘At least, I hope I am.’
I pulled my keys out of my pocket. ‘I should probably get going.’
‘Have a beer first,’ he said.
‘Nah,’ I said. ‘Should probably just get home.’
‘Go on. You can have one.’ He grabbed a can from a tub of ice, popped the lid, pressed it into my hands. ‘So you doing an apprenticeship in carpentry or something?’ he asked.
‘Kind of. Not officially. I work down at Cameron Woodley’s shed. I’m just learning on the job.’
‘So what’s the plan? You’ll open your own shop one day?’
I did have a plan. I wanted to move to Sydney. Make fine furniture. Quality custom-made pieces for people who could afford and appreciate the good stuff. I wanted to make myself some decent money. Help my mother. Get out of Walloma.
But there was something about this guy that annoyed me. I felt like I was being scrutinised, sized up, and I had no idea why.
‘What are your plans?’ I asked.
‘Dunno.’ He took a sip of his beer. ‘Don’t really have any. Not at this stage. I was about to start uni. Fine Arts. But then I got sick.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘Staying alive. I guess that’s my only plan at the moment.’
I was saved from having to think of a response to that because just then Atticus’s family appeared. His mother was holding a big cake. The lights went out and everyone started singing happy birthday. Atticus was dragged away. It was the perfect opportunity to disappear. I put my beer down and slipped out.
Just as I unlocked the car door I heard footsteps behind me.
‘Cooper. Hold on a second.’
Libby was panting slightly, as if she’d run out behind me. In the dusky light I could see the rosy glow of her cheeks, the shine of her eyes.
‘Thanks for bringing the easel,’ she said. ‘Thank you so much.’
‘No worries.’
‘I wanted to ask you—’ Her voice came out in a breathy tumble. ‘I was thinking before . . . it was so cool the other day, when we were surfing, and I was wondering if you wanted to go again? I mean, only if you want to, of course, I know you’re probably busy with work, and I—’
‘Sure,’ I interrupted. ‘You free Saturday morning?’
‘I work on Saturdays.’
‘At six a.m.?’
‘Well, no. I start at nine.’
‘Plenty of time. I’ll pick you up at quarter to six. It’s the best part of the day.’
She gave me her address and then waited on the footpath while I started the car and pulled out. She stood there, waving, and when I checked my rear-vision before turning the corner I saw that she was still there. Watching me go. I drove home with a smile on my face.
23
LiBBy
When my alarm woke me early on Saturday morning, I couldn’t believe how dark it was. I stared at the impenetrable black outside my window and fought the urge to roll over and go back to sleep. If it wasn’t for Cooper I would have done just that.
I put on my swimmers and a warm tracksuit and made myself a coffee. By the time Cooper arrived the sun had started to rise, leaving a faint pink-white smear across the horizon. By the time we got to the beach and started paddling out, the sun was high enough to sparkle across the water and shine into our eyes. It was turning into a cool but perfect day, the water crisp, the sky clear.
We surfed for an hour and a half. The swell was even and regular, and I got up pretty much straight away. And as my muscle memory set in, I instinctively knew exactly how to place my feet on the board, how to balance my body weight and bend my knees. I savoured the perfect thrill of it, the sense of being at one with a force much greater than myself, and I wondered why I’d ever stopped. Surfing was the best stress relief, a million times better than any meditation.
Cooper and I didn’t say much. We didn’t have to. Surfing together created a bond between us that was better than any words. When it was time to go, the tired but triumphant smiles we gave each other as we trudged up the sand were communication enough. I was cold and shivering, my hair unpleasantly wet against my neck, but it was warm and cosy in the car, and I closed my eyes against the now-glaring sun. I smiled. I was so happy I couldn’t stop myself.
‘That was just . . .’ I sighed, struggling to find exactly the right word.
‘I know,’ Cooper said. ‘Don’t worry. I know.’
24
SEBASTiAN
On Monday morning Sebastian got a text from Cooper, asking him if he wanted to meet on campus for lunch. For a moment he considered playing it cool, ignoring his friend’s text, but the truth was having lunch with Cooper would be the only bright spot in an otherwise boring day. He texted back to tell Cooper he’d be free at one.
They met in the front courtyard near the cafeteria, where Sebastian bought himself a tray of sushi rolls and a bottle of juice. Cooper had sandwiches, and they ate on the grass beneath one of the larger trees. When they’d finished eating, Sebastian brought up the subject of Claire. He wanted Claire and Cooper to be friends again. He told Cooper that he thought Claire genuinely regretted what she’d done.
‘Don’t you think you’ve punished her enough?’ he said. ‘She’s sorry. Give her a break.’
But Cooper didn’t say a word. In fact, he hardly seemed to be listening. He shrugged and looked indifferent as he lay on his belly and plucked at random strands of grass. Sebastian wanted to kick him.
Suddenly Cooper sat up.
‘Where’s the philosophy area?’ he asked.
‘What?’
‘If you were studying philosophy, where would you be? Which building?’
‘The Arts faculty. Over there.’ Sebastian pointed to the collection of square blocks behind the cafeteria. ‘Why?’
‘Libby Lawson.’ Cooper grinned. ‘We sat with her at the pub the other week.’
Sebastian felt instantly, unhappily, alert to Cooper’s motive for being there. ‘Not that red-haired chick?’ he asked in a sneering voice.
Cooper gave him a puzzled look. ‘Why the tone?’
‘I’m just surprised you’d . . .’ Sebastian stopped himself from saying what he really wanted to. If he could let loose, he’d tell Cooper that he could do a lot better than Libby Lawson. Instead, he cleared his throat, took a breath and put all his effort into making his voice even. ‘What about her?’
‘We’ve been surfing together a couple of times. She’s pretty excellent.’ Cooper sounded slightly defensive. ‘She’s studying philosophy. I just thought I might see her.’
‘Today?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Right.’ He couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t keep the self-pitying tone from his voice. ‘So you didn’t really come here to see me, then?’
‘Yeah, I did. I came to see you. I was just hoping I’d see her too.’ Cooper gave Sebastian a scathing look. ‘Bloody hell, Seb. Don’t be so . . .’
‘So what?’
But Cooper had straightened up and turned away. He was straining to look in the other direction. ‘There she is,’ he said. He jumped up immediately. ‘Sorry. I’m
just going to . . .’ He gave Sebastian an apologetic smile. ‘See you later?’
Sebastian shook his head. Cooper was unbelievable. Unbelievable.
Cooper hesitated for a moment, as if he was going to say something. Sebastian waited expectantly, mildly hopeful that his friend would come to his senses. But then Cooper scowled, as though Sebastian was the one at fault. ‘I’ll give you a call.’
And as he watched Cooper walk away, Sebastian felt a bitter surge of anger charge through him. He had a strong urge to give chase. Attack Cooper. Kick him to the ground, punch him in the face. The very thought of it almost made him laugh. Cooper would flatten him.
He dug the tip of his thumb into the tender space on his inner wrist. He pressed until it hurt, until he thought something in there might snap, until his eyes watered and he couldn’t help grunting in pain. He was a fool. Cooper didn’t care. The whole relationship was completely one-sided.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when a shadow fell over him from behind.
‘What the hell are you doing to yourself, Sebastian Eliot Boccardo?’
Sebastian was relieved to see that it was only Claire. She stood above him, arms folded over her chest, a bemused expression on her face. ‘Have you gone completely insane?’ she said.
He straightened up, let go of his wrist, gave her a curt smile. ‘Probably.’
‘Oh, well. You’re not the only one.’ She laughed. ‘Join the club.’
Sebastian patted the ground and Claire sat down beside him. He pointed to Cooper and Libby, who’d moved off to one side of the courtyard and were leaning against the wall, talking.
It was obvious, even from this distance, that Cooper and Libby fancied each other. They stood a fraction too close. They both had goofy smiles plastered on their faces. Libby was playing with her hair, and every time she laughed she reached out to touch Cooper’s hand or arm. Cooper’s whole attention was directed towards her, his body leaning in and down, his eyes stuck to hers as if by glue. Their attraction was blatant. Sickening.
‘What the fuck?’ Claire’s voice was full of her usual bravado, but he could hear the distress underneath, and when he looked at her face he could see it in her eyes, in the way her jaw worked. He could feel jealousy radiating out of her in thick, almost tangible waves. He sympathised. He knew exactly how she felt.
‘Maybe you should invite her to the party on Saturday night,’ he said.
She looked at him like he was crazy. ‘Why would I do that?’
‘I don’t know. What else are you going to do? And isn’t it a saying, to keep your enemies close? Something like that.’
She didn’t say anything for a moment, she just turned back to watch them, a thoughtful look on her face.
‘You know what, Sebastian,’ she said eventually. ‘I think that might just be a very good idea.’
25
CLAiRE
Inviting Libby to a party wasn’t exactly on Claire’s list of fun things to do. She hadn’t spoken to Libby for years, had actively cultivated an intense hatred towards her, so to rock up and play nice was about as much fun as walking on hot coals. Claire wondered how to frame the invitation so it made sense and didn’t make Libby suspicious, but she came up completely blank.
She’d just have to fake it, act as though inviting Libby to a party wasn’t a totally psycho thing to do.
She kept her eye out for the next few days and hung around the Arts faculty as much as she could, but she didn’t see Libby on campus until late on Thursday afternoon. Libby was standing in line at the cafeteria. She was talking to her friends, the weird midget girl, and the hippy-looking chick who always wore long colourful scarves.
Claire hoisted her bag onto her shoulder, took a deep breath and walked over.
‘Libby?’
Libby turned. Her open and friendly expression instantly became something much less friendly once she saw Claire.
‘Yes?’ she asked.
Claire forced herself to smile. ‘How are you going?’
Libby shrugged, glanced around as though an explanation for Claire’s appearance might be found in the air. ‘I’m fine. Thanks.’
‘Good. Hey. I know this might seem a bit random. But Sebastian and I were talking and, well, we were just wondering if you wanted to come to our party this weekend? Saturday night. Up at Seb’s place in the Hills.’
Libby stared, blinked, said nothing.
‘Starts at seven, but anytime after that is fine. Cooper will be there.’
Still Libby didn’t speak. Instead she took the smallest step backwards, moving away as though Claire had some kind of disease. Claire wanted to scream at her, ask her what the hell was wrong, if she’d suddenly become totally mute, but she held her tongue. Being rude would be counterproductive. She really did want Libby to come to the party. How else would she find out what was going on? How else could she have any influence?
She gave Libby her biggest smile, put on her best fake-friendly voice. ‘We usually put the invites up on Facebook, but because we’re not actually friends . . . I mean, I don’t even know if you’re on Facebook, you’re probably not, it’s such a stupid thing . . . anyway, so I thought I should just come up and ask you in person. And it’s friendlier that way too, right?’
‘Right. Yes,’ Libby said, though she looked extremely doubtful.
‘Cool. Excellent.’ Claire was saved by the sharp ring of her phone. She dug around in her bag, and as she turned away she said to Libby, ‘Anyway, hope to see you there. You should totally try to come. We have the best parties.’
She’d missed a call from Sebastian. As she walked out of the cafeteria she called him back, happy for something to occupy her, make her look busy.
‘I did it,’ she said as soon as he answered. ‘I invited the stupid bitch.’
26
LiBBy
‘You have absolutely got to go to that party,’ Cate said as the three of us watched Claire leave the cafeteria.
‘No bloody way,’ Hari said, aghast. She put her hand on her hips, imitated Claire’s voice. ‘We have the best parties. She’s so revoltingly arrogant!’
‘Who cares? Just think of the gossip,’ Cate insisted. ‘We’d have a year’s worth of conversation at least. And that’s got to be worth something.’
We reached the front of the queue, ordered and paid for our coffees. When they were ready, we took them to a table and sat down.
‘So what exactly was that about anyway, Libby? Why is Claire Forrester inviting you to a party? And why did she mention Cooper like that?‘ Hari stared at me. ‘I knew there was something you weren’t telling us.’
I stirred sugar into my coffee, tried to avoid her eyes. ‘There’s nothing. I have no idea . . .’
Hari and Cate were my best friends and I trusted them implicitly, but still, I wasn’t quite ready to talk about Cooper. Whatever was happening between us – and it was far too early to know for sure – I wanted to keep it to myself. My feelings, uncertain and fragile as they were, couldn’t bear the scrutiny, their curiosity and questions. Not yet.
But I could feel myself blushing, and I knew Hari could see straight through me.
‘You’ve gone as red as a tomato,’ she said. ‘Bloody hell, Libby. Fuck. Have you actually, seriously, got a crush on Cooper Bartholomew?’
I lifted my cup to my lips in a futile attempt to hide behind it. I concentrated on willing the blood back down to my toes.
‘Leave her alone, Hari,’ Cate said. But then she too gave me a quizzical look. ‘Libby?’
‘Look,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to . . . Can we please just drop it?’
They both stared at me. After a moment Cate smiled, turned to Hari and nudged her. ‘Hari,’ she said.
‘I’ll drop it for now,‘ Hari said eventually. ‘But only because you’re making me. But I do just have to say one thing. You are far too good for him, Libby. Far too good.’
We moved on to more neutral topics of conversation as we finished our coffee. Hari and
Cate talked about the assignments they had to do and how they planned to do them quickly so they could still have fun on the weekend. I only half-listened. I was far more preoccupied with the invitation from Claire. I had no idea what she was playing at. I just knew her friendliness had been a strange and mysterious performance.
Claire Forrester and I had once been best friends. We’d been inseparable for years, through most of primary school and the first year of high school. At the beginning of Year 8 we’d started to drift apart – there were new people to meet and we were developing different interests. Claire was suddenly very into boys and fashion; I was into debating and music. But in the middle of that year the natural drift became a sudden wrench. We had a falling-out, a vicious argument over something I’d said, and just like that our long friendship was over. Within weeks Claire was hanging out with the cooler kids. Whenever I saw her at school I smiled and said hello, but she ignored me, refused to meet my eye. She acted like we didn’t even know each other, like we hadn’t shared our most intimate secrets for the past six years.
I tried for a while, sending a few apologetic emails that she didn’t bother answering, but I couldn’t honestly say I was devastated. The debating team and concert band kept me busy, and I was flat out trying to get my schoolwork done. Within a couple of months I’d made new friends – people like Cate and Hari and Atticus; people I felt more comfortable with. After a while I wondered how and why I’d ever been friends with Claire, there was such a tangible sense of animosity between us. We were impossibly different. We had nothing in common.
Cate and Hari and I parted ways at the cafeteria entrance. Cate and Hari had another lecture to go to, whereas I’d already finished for the day. I said goodbye and started walking towards the front gate. A moment later I heard Cate call out.