Shift

  Yet when Katie deleted her as a friend, Paige seemed devastated. She continued to trail along behind Katie, watching everything she did. Miranda put a stop to that quick smart. The story went around that there was some big fight and that Paige had refused to go away until Katie herself told her to. Which Katie did – right to her face one lunchtime in front of everyone. I don’t know what Paige looked like as she walked away – neither Ami or I were there – but I picture her as looking kind of dignified. I do know what she said as she went, though, because for the rest of the day everyone went around imitating it.

  ‘I’m really worried about you, Katie. I think she’s trying to kill you.’

  The imitations were all pretty much the same – using the quavering, emotional voice of someone about to lose control. Some people gave her a speech impediment – saying the ‘r’s like ‘w’s. It was probably exactly how they imitated me when I was in the clinic.

  When Paige finally left Katie and Miranda to it, I was relieved. I knew I didn’t have a shred of evidence, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that if she’d resisted, something would’ve happened to her. Like what had happened to Miss Falippi. Getting in Miranda’s way was starting to seem like a health hazard.

  Once Paige was gone, the invisible wall around Miranda and Katie closed up completely. The only other person who was allowed into their space was Cameron. The three of them walked around everywhere together – the untouchable trio – laughing and acting like they were the only three people in the entire world. The only three that mattered.

  One Wednesday afternoon, I brought Toby home from football practice and we found Mum busy frying up what looked like a pan of large, brown erasers.

  ‘Oh!’ said Toby, glancing at me. ‘Tofu schnitzels.’

  I was just as concerned as he was. Mum seemed to think tofu schnitzels were a treat. She only cooked them when she was worried about us. More worried than usual. We needed to tread carefully.

  ‘Yummm!’ I said, breathing through my mouth. ‘Can I help?’

  ‘Just take these over to the table,’ said Mum, sliding the sizzling brown things onto plates and tossing a salad. ‘We’ve all been so busy I thought it’d be nice if we had a special dinner together.’

  I took the plates and we all sat down. ‘Thanks, Mum,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, thanks!’ said Toby. His smile was stretched so wide it made my facial muscles ache just looking at him.

  I picked up my fork and attempted to spear the schnitzel with it. Looking over at Toby, I was surprised to see that one of his schnitzels had already vanished. Grinning, he pointed to his bulging pocket. Not such a bad idea. But difficult to do with Mum looking straight at me.

  ‘So, Olive,’ she said. ‘How’s school? Who are you hanging out with these days?’

  I managed to hack off a cube of schnitzel and shove it into my mouth. ‘It’s fine,’ I said, hoping only to answer the first question. I considered mentioning the cops who’d shown up in home room that morning to inform us that in the weeks to come, they’d be interviewing each student with regards to some very serious allegations. But as if Mum needed another reason to stress.

  Her face went pink with relief. ‘I’m so glad,’ she said. ‘So you’re not still spending time with Ami?’

  I hated the way Mum said Ami’s name. Like it was in inverted commas or something. Like she still didn’t understand that Ami was the only person in my life who really got me.

  Things went quiet then. Toby, perhaps sensing the sudden drop in temperature, put a big piece of schnitzel into his mouth. In the silence I could hear it squeaking between his teeth as he valiantly attempted to chew it.

  ‘Ami helps me,’ I said.

  Mum kept cutting her food into smaller and smaller pieces. ‘Aren’t there other people you can talk to?’ she said, not meeting my eyes. ‘What about Katie? You girls used to be so close.’

  ‘She’s got a new best friend now.’ I didn’t add that the new friend was probably a parasitic shapeshifter who kept stealing her stuff. It seemed a bit dramatic for dinnertime.

  ‘Oh. What about the others?’ Mum persisted. ‘You used to have so many friends.’

  ‘And now I don’t,’ I said, kind of loudly. ‘Now I just have Ami.’

  I guess I could have told her about Lachlan, but what would I say exactly? There’s a guy at school that I sort of like, but I’m too fat and weird to go out with him and Katie’s probably blabbed to him that I’m crazy, like she did to everyone else. I don’t think so.

  Mum’s cutlery clicked on the plate as she put them down. ‘I don’t like you relying on this Ami,’ she said. ‘Honey? I’m worried about you.’

  I so didn’t want to be having this conversation. I needed to get away, get some fresh air. Dr Richter was always telling me that exercise would help. My chair scraped across the floor. ‘Thanks for dinner,’ I said flatly, fighting to stop the frustration spilling into my voice. ‘I’m going for a ride.’

  It was already getting dark as I headed off, streaking along the road as fast as I could. The streetlights had come on and there was just the faintest light-blue glow over the horizon. I had a tailwind and it wasn’t long before I’d left Jubilee Park far behind. When I arrived at the intersection near the edge of town, I stopped. The left-hand road soon curved around and would lead me back into town. The other road followed the coast. My hands began to sweat a little, thinking about the rise and fall of the ocean.

  Just keep your eyes on the road, I told myself. Forget that the water is out there. The lights changed and I didn’t move. Being so close to the ocean – especially alone – was über terrifying, but I knew I wasn’t ready to go back home yet. The frustration was still burbling inside me. I put my head down and headed out along the coast road. I rode fast, not looking to the sides except for the occasional sideways glance for traffic, trying to funnel the surge of fear into my pedalling.

  It was darker now but I didn’t need light to know exactly where I was. In my mind I saw the darkened weekender houses and the closed-for-winter surf shops flash by. The deserted playgrounds with their stunted trees and scratchy, burr-filled grass. I hadn’t consciously chosen a direction, but I knew where I was heading. To the lookout. The place Dad and I used to ride to all the time.

  The lookout was really just a slight bulge in the road where cars could pull in to photograph the ocean, but it was a long enough ride from our house to make your muscles tingle. It had one of those signposts with pointers telling you how far it is to London and New York. Like it knew you’d rather be somewhere else. Dad and I would stop there and gaze at the horizon, and I’d ask him jokingly if that was the end of the world. He’d laugh and say, ‘No, Pet. There’s a lot more world beyond there.’

  Riding along here was bringing stuff into my head. Things I usually managed to block out. About Dad. About how bad things had been just before he left. How I’d started sneaking out on weekends and lying about cutting school. How I was obsessed with looks and boys and manipulating the world – playing people off against each other to get what I wanted. Especially Mum and Dad. How angry I’d become if I was ever denied anything. I was the kind of girl who caused bad things to happen. The kind of girl who deserved bad things to happen to her in return.

  I realised I was gripping the handlebars so tightly that my fingers were burning.

  After Dad left, Mum started leaving pamphlets around the house for kids from breaking homes. I’d scoffed at them, but I did flick through one, just long enough to see the line about how your parents will always love you and their separation is not your fault. That was either bullshit, or the gods of family breakdown had made an exception for me.

  The fact that he’d left because of me was indisputable. I was always the cause of Mum and Dad’s arguments, and then their fights spilled over into money and shitty days at work. So after the Incident, and after I came out of the clinic, I decided to kill off the old Olive for good. I owed it to what was left of my family to shut up, swallow my meds a
nd not cause any more trouble.

  When I sensed that the lookout was near, I slowed and pulled in. It was too dark to see the ocean and at first I didn’t notice the bike – a racer – leaning against the wall. And even when I did my first thought was, That’s weird. Someone’s left a bike here. But of course, a moment later I saw the bike’s owner sitting cross-legged on the wall, staring out at the ocean.

  Lachlan looked so peaceful. So smooth and untroubled. I felt a pang of envy. Nothing bad could ever happen to someone like him. Lachlan Ford was one of those people who would just cruise through life, steadily and easily.

  I used to be like that too. Although I guess I was less of a cruiser and more a steamroller, flattening whatever was in my path. The old Olive did what she wanted, when she wanted.

  I steadied my breathing. Get going. Before he sees you. Because if Lachlan had smiled at me right then I suspected that all the medication in the world wouldn’t be able to stop me bursting into tears. Silently, I pointed the wheel of my bike towards home. Put my foot on the pedals. And rode straight over some broken glass. I heard the viper-hiss of air as my front tyre deflated.

  Lachlan must have heard it too. Or maybe he’d known all along that I was there. As I busied myself with examining the flabby mess that was my front tyre, I heard him jump off the wall and walk over – in that unhurried, casual way of his. ‘Got anything to fix it with?’

  Just like that. No greeting. No mention of the fact that I’d been avoiding eye contact every day in home room and ignoring him in the halls these last few weeks. My heart leapt and once again I felt the annoying flicker of doubt. The one that made me wonder if maybe Lachlan’s apparent interest was genuine and not just some kind of cruel gag. But I quickly squashed this. There was just no way it could be true. God knows what his weird pseudo-flirting was about though. Maybe he did it with everyone.

  ‘Of course I do,’ I said. I kept a small puncture-repair kit in a bag under my bike seat. It was something Dad had been big on – knowing how to mend stuff yourself. You can’t rely on anyone else to patch things up for you, he’d say. Better you learn for yourself.

  I upended my bike and released the wheel. Then I fished out the tool that helped remove the tyre from the rim. I could feel Lachlan close beside me, watching, warmth radiating from his body.

  ‘Need a hand?’

  ‘No thanks.’ Then I added, a little tersely, ‘You don’t have to stick around. It’s under control.’ Did he think I wasn’t capable of changing a tyre? That all girls had to wait around for big, strong guys like him to help them out?

  ‘Actually, I do have to stick around.’ Lachlan gestured to the racer. ‘I’ve got a flat too,’ he said, a little sheepishly. ‘Can I borrow your repair kit?’

  I stared at him curiously. ‘How long have you been waiting?’ He’d looked so calm sitting there on the wall, gazing out to sea. Not like someone who was stranded with a flat.

  ‘Half an hour? Maybe longer.’

  ‘You didn’t call anyone?’ I said. ‘Or start walking back into town?’

  Lachlan shrugged. ‘No. I figured someone would come along eventually.’ He grinned at me. ‘And someone did.’

  I dropped the bike pump. Picked it up again. ‘Butter fingers,’ I muttered. I scooped up the stuff from the repair kit and held it out. ‘Here.’

  Lachlan looked at the kit doubtfully. ‘Feel like giving me a hand?’

  ‘Don’t tell me you don’t know how to patch a tyre!’

  ‘Of course I do,’ Lachlan said quickly. ‘But not as well as you. You’re like a tyre-fixing machine.’

  How was it that he always managed to make me laugh?

  ‘OK. I’ll help you,’ I said. ‘Watch and learn.’

  He smiled gratefully. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘Next time I’ll change yours.’

  ‘Yeah, sure,’ I said. As if there would be a next time.

  So I helped Lachlan fix his tyre and pump it back up. Then somehow, without even discussing it, we started riding back into town together like it was the most natural thing in the world. It doesn’t mean anything, I told myself sternly. It’s just the logical thing to do.

  We didn’t speak much on the ride back, but it was a comfortable, easy silence. I didn’t exactly forget the stuff that had been on my mind – Mum going off about Ami, my growing concerns about Miranda – but they kind of fell away a little. Even the ocean, falling and swelling only metres away on the other side of the road, didn’t seem quite so scary right then.

  We stopped at the intersection at the outskirts of town.

  ‘Usually I go right here,’ said Lachlan. ‘But how about I ride home with you? It’s pretty dark.’

  ‘No thanks, Mr Lifesaver Guy.’ I was aiming for cheery and casual, but it came out sounding defensive and rude.

  Lachlan studied my face for a moment. ‘Is it just me you say no to?’

  ‘Hey, don’t get cocky,’ I said, glad that he couldn’t see the rising blush on my neck. ‘I say no to heaps of things. Commercial radio. Leggings that look like jeans. Tofu schnitzels. At least, I’d say no to them if I could.’

  ‘Tofu schnitzels?’ winced Lachlan. ‘I don’t even know what those are and I’m saying no to them.’

  I laughed. Despite myself. ‘Good decision.’

  A car drove up to the lights, filled with people and pumping with music. The passengers turned to stare when the car stopped, laughing about something. Hey, everyone! What’s wrong with this picture? I imagined them snickering as they looked at me there next to Lachlan.

  Lachlan didn’t seem to have noticed the car. He was watching me. ‘Are you still saying no to school formals too?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, making a close examination of my handlebars. ‘I’m still saying no to those.’

  The traffic lights changed and the car took off. For a moment Lachlan didn’t move. I stayed there next to him, although I don’t know why. I guess I was waiting for something.

  Finally Lachlan raised his hand. ‘Well, bye then, I guess. See you around.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘See you.’

  As Lachlan took off down the street, I was suddenly aware of the wind blowing hard and cold across my neck. I hadn’t noticed it before. It was like I’d been wearing a scarf and it had suddenly been removed.

  ‘Well hello, beautiful,’ said Noah from the ticket office as I rushed in on date night a few days later.

  ‘Enough with the sarcasm, thanks,’ I said as I slotted myself behind the snack bar counter.

  ‘I wasn’t being sarcastic,’ insisted Noah. ‘You look good, even with a red face and helmet hair. So, is this just a social visit?’

  ‘OK, OK,’ I said, ruffling up my hair with my hands. ‘Watch me, I’m working.’

  And I did work, solidly, for the next half an hour or so. Scooping popcorn, squirting soft drinks into cups, passing back change. Ami sat on the end of the counter, swinging her legs and making quiet jokes about the customers’ purchases, but I was too flat out to join in. I even forgot to keep an eye out for Lachlan. It wasn’t that I wanted him to come in for another ice-cream. But I half-thought he might.

  It was after the first surge had passed and I was at the cash register that I saw Cameron reflected in the thief mirror, coming in the front door. On his arm was someone skinny and hunched.

  ‘My god,’ said Ami. ‘Look at Katie.’

  ‘No.’ I shoved the drawer of the cash register closed and turned around. ‘It can’t be.’

  Shapeless. That was the word that came to my head as I looked at Katie that night. Standing next to Cameron – so buff and solid and high-school handsome – only highlighted the difference between them. No-one would’ve picked these two as a couple. They barely looked like they belonged to the same species.

  I found myself staring, practically open-mouthed. What the hell had happened to her? Was she sick? It was only a month or so ago that Katie had torn the pink thread from Miranda’s wrist and tried to humiliate her in front of the whole schoo
l. Since she’d strolled around the pool in her bathers, her supermodel glow radiating in waves.

  Katie wasn’t even a shadow of her former self. She was the whisper of a shadow.

  The Mercury door swung open again and this time Miranda walked in, wearing one of Katie’s dresses. It bothered me, even though Katie and I had swapped clothes all the time when we were the same size. Maybe it was that the dress would have been way too big for Katie now, and yet it fitted Miranda perfectly. In fact, it looked better than it had ever looked on Katie, especially across the chest. You could feel everyone in the foyer turning to look. Miranda had become the sort of girl that people openly gaped at. And once their eyes were fixed on her, it was hard to look away. Cameron, I noticed, didn’t even bother to try.

  Miranda waltzed up and pushed her way between Cameron and Katie, draping an arm around each of them. ‘Hi, my honeys,’ she said. Cameron’s whole face glowed at her touch. ‘Do we have tickets?’

  ‘Not yet,’ said Cameron, the eager puppy. ‘I’ll go and get them now.’

  Cameron unhooked his arm from around Katie and walked towards the counter. Katie swayed for a moment, then leant against the wall, her hands pressed against her concave stomach. I saw her say something to Miranda. I couldn’t hear it, but it was clear from her eyes what she was saying. ‘I’m hungry.’

  For a moment, Miranda crossed her arms and looked at Katie. But finally she sighed and walked briskly towards the snack bar where I was waiting, my hands pressed onto the smooth lino surface.