Sick Bay Page 12

I shove the cracker in so that I can concentrate on chewing it.

  ‘Yeah, I know. Can’t believe Slipper Girl gets to speak,’ says Tessa.

  ‘What’s she going to say? It’s not like she has any friends!’ Elle adds.

  I steal another cracker from Elle’s lunch box, wishing the bell would go, wishing the tree would fall down, or something would happen to derail this conversation.

  ‘Didn’t you used to be her friend, Elle?’ asks Tessa, drawing out her words like Lina does.

  ‘They were besties, weren’t you, Elle?’ adds Lina.

  Elle shakes her head and fidgets with the lid on her lunch box. ‘In grade four.’

  I look over at Lina, wondering where this is going.

  Lina smiles. ‘But then I saved you.’

  Suddenly the missing pieces click into place. Elle was Meg’s friend and Dash is Elle’s little brother. That’s why Dash and Meg have history.

  ‘What sort of dress are you going to buy?’ Elle asks me.

  ‘You’ll need something baggy so it doesn’t show your pump. Don’t want everyone thinking you’re fat!’ Lina says, smiling at me like I’m supposed to laugh.

  ‘Nice, Lina!’ My voice is softer than I’d like.

  ‘Calm down. As if I’m being serious,’ she says, rolling her eyes at the others. ‘Maybe you’re having a low. Have you done a test? You’re a bit cranky.’

  I clamp my jaw as tight as I can and count silently to five so I don’t explode. This is worse than an argument with Mum. I’m really not sure what’s going on.

  Suddenly Lina pushes me out of the way so she can see over my shoulder. ‘Look! Slipper Girl’s taken Matt’s soccer ball,’ she says, standing up.

  It looks like Meg’s arguing with Nick Zarro and Matt Park and I want to cheer her on. Those boys think they own the mini oval and the girls can either watch or stay out of their way. But I wonder what happened to make Meg grab the ball in the first place.

  Nick reaches out for the ball and tries to wrestle it from her. Meg’s not letting go.

  Lina tosses her apple onto the ground and starts running over to where they’re arguing. Tessa and Elle follow. They’re like ants all in a line, scurrying to the crumbs.

  I stand up and hurry after them too.

  ‘What’s your problem, Meg?’ I hear Lina call out.

  Meg looks at the ground, the ball tucked under her arm. I wonder where the yard-duty teachers are and why they haven’t swooped on this and shut it down.

  Lina walks super close to Meg. ‘Can you hear me, Slipper Girl?’ Lina shouts.

  Tessa laughs and Nick and Matt join in.

  ‘Apparently, I kicked it too close to her legs … so she took it,’ says Matt.

  Lina grins at him. I can feel the energy in the air changing. ‘Maybe she was worried her slippers would get dirty. Oops, dirtier!’

  Matt laughs and Lina straightens at the sound, like she’s inflating.

  ‘It’s not very nice to take things that aren’t yours, Slipper Girl,’ says Lina, reaching around behind Meg and punching the ball, knocking it up and out of her arms.

  Surprised, Meg looks around and I see her notice me. Nick scoops up the ball from the ground and kicks it long, back towards the mini oval. He grins at me like I should be impressed and I look away like I’m not.

  The boys run off, heading after the fluoro-orange soccer ball, like it’s a beacon. I’m pretty happy to see them go, but now I’m left with my friends who don’t seem to be done with Meg yet.

  ‘So, what’s with the slippers?’ Lina says, leaning in even closer so her nose is nearly touching Meg’s cheek.

  I see Meg stiffen. Elle flicks a glance my way like she’s not sure what to do, but Tessa is already copying everything Lina’s doing.

  ‘Come on, let’s go finish lunch,’ I say, hoping my power still holds with my friends.

  ‘We’re going to finish this first,’ says Lina.

  She kicks at Meg’s feet, covering her slippers in brown dust. I hear Meg take a breath and another one. She’s staring at the ground like she wants it to suck her down and spit her out someplace else.

  ‘What’s with the slippers, Meg? Tell us,’ says Lina.

  ‘Yeah, tell us, Slipper Girl,’ echoes Tessa.

  Meg steps back, trying to break the circle and move away, but Lina and Tessa move around behind her.

  ‘Move,’ says Meg. Her voice sounds shaky and strange.

  ‘She speaks!’

  This time both Tessa and Elle laugh at Lina’s joke.

  ‘Why do you always wear the same clothes?’ Lina asks, smiling at us like this is fun.

  I grab for Lina’s arm, trying to make my voice light and loose. ‘Come on, guys. Enough.’

  I take a step away, hoping that by leaving, my friends will forget about Meg and come too. But Lina and Tessa seem locked into something.

  I see Meg pull a crumpled paper bag from her pocket and hold it up to her face. She sucks at the bag and Lina laughs loudly. I know what that is. Meg’s having a panic attack.

  ‘Okay, leave her alone now, Lina,’ I say, more firmly than before.

  Lina spins around and turns her attention to me. ‘You taking her side?’

  ‘Just leave it, Lina,’ I say again, feeling my heart race and wondering if it is a low or just the argument. ‘You okay, Meg?’ I say.

  Meg’s eyes find mine over the edge of the paper bag. Then she turns away from us and runs like a bird with a broken wing, straight towards the admin building.

  ‘What was that about, Riley?’

  Lina is facing me with her jaw set and her braces gleaming. I’ve seen her in attack mode before but it’s never been aimed at me.

  ‘I just didn’t want anything to happen to Meg. She’s nice.’

  Lina gives me her best fake smile, usually reserved for our teachers. ‘Obviously, you don’t really want to hang with us anymore. Maybe you like Slipper Girl more.’

  I shake my head. ‘What are you talking about?’

  She raises an eyebrow and my heart races. ‘You can never do anything we do. You’re always rushing off. Making excuses. Clearly you’re not that into us.’

  I’m aware of Tessa and Elle watching me, waiting to see whether to leap in or not.

  ‘I am. I came to your party. You’re my friends …’ My words sound thin and insubstantial.

  Lina shrugs and a smile transforms her face. I try to relax but my shoulders are up too high, tense and uncomfortable.

  ‘Prove it.’

  ‘How?’

  She grins at me. ‘You’ll see.’

  ‘Okay.’ I nod too much.

  ‘O-kay,’ says Lina, drawing out the word. ‘I’m going to chat to Matt now.’

  The three of us watch as she heads across to where the boys play soccer. Halfway over, she flips a perfect cartwheel, lands on her feet, straightens up and keeps walking. I wait for Elle or Tessa to say something, anything, but they’re both as still as I am, like we’ve all just been extras in a film scene that we weren’t expecting.

  ‘Toilet,’ I tell my friends.

  Elle waves her hand but they don’t look up as I leave. They’re too busy watching Lina.

  ‘Riley?’ Sarah looks up from behind her computer as I pass reception.

  ‘Just grabbing a Band-Aid for my finger,’ I tell her, pushing open the door and hoping to find Meg. Instead, Dash is reading a comic in the other chair.

  ‘Hi,’ I say.

  He nods, his dark hair flopping down over his eyes. ‘Riley,’ he says, holding up a Ventolin puffer. He pushes his hair out of his face and starts shaking his Ventolin puffer from side to side.

  ‘Have you seen Meg?’

  He shakes his head and then makes an elaborate show of checking under the bed and in the corner of the room. ‘Nope, sor
ry.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I say, heading for the door.

  ‘Thought you needed a Band-Aid,’ he says.

  ‘I did.’

  ‘She’s not like you or your friends. Maybe you should leave her,’ he says.

  I turn back to him, frowning. ‘What do you mean? You don’t even know me!’

  I’m used to being judged before people know me. Judged because of the whole diabetes thing, not because of who my friends are. Or who I am. That I don’t like.

  ‘You’re friends with Lina, right? Meg is a moving target to people like her. Don’t make it harder for Meg by drawing attention to her.’

  ‘You’ve known Meg for ages, right? Because of her and Elle?’

  ‘Yeah …’ he says testily.

  ‘What happened with them?’

  Dash leans back in the chair like he’s trying to work out whose side I’m on. ‘They were best friends since prep. Then my sister dumped Meg for Lina.’

  ‘But that stuff happens all the time …’ I know I sound desperate but we’re talking about my friends.

  Dash raises one eyebrow and it reminds me of something Meg would do. It makes me question how I feel about everything. How I feel about my friends.

  ‘Are you Meg’s friend?’ I ask him.

  ‘I understand her,’ he says. ‘And I like her.’

  I’m not sure what to say. He smiles at me but it’s a full stop, not an invitation for more conversation. Then he picks up his comic and starts reading, leaving me hanging by the door, feeling like I don’t belong anywhere, and I’m not sure know what to do with that.

  ‘Band-Aids are in the cupboard,’ says Dash.

  ‘My finger’s healed,’ I tell him.

  ‘It’s a miracle,’ he says, not bothering to look up.

  Meg

  Heading away from the gate, I look back once, just to make sure no one has followed me. The schoolyard is quiet. Everyone else is back in their classrooms and, except for the odd piece of forgotten fruit and discarded sandwich wrappers, the grounds are empty.

  I’ve never skipped out of school before. That’s what Sick Bay is for. But I didn’t want to talk to Riley if she came looking for me, so here I am, rushing away with an empty bag on my shoulder like I have somewhere to be.

  In a couple of hours this footpath will be packed with parents hurrying to pick up their kids. Mum used to do that when I first started school. She’d arrive early and wait near the classroom, making small talk with the other parents. I’d come out and she’d wrap me in her special after-school hug, kiss the top of my head and hand me a snack. Now some days I doubt she even remembers I’m in grade six. I may as well have died back when Dad did.

  I stop in at home for my dirty laundry and find Mum in bed. She’s lying in the dark so I don’t bother disturbing her. I just pile up as much as I can fit in my schoolbag and head off to see Peggy.

  I walk around the corner and see a flash of pink through the window. Peggy looks like she’s rolled her head in fairy floss. I stare in, watching her fold towels into neat squares and place them into a giant basket. She smooths the top of each one, her blue-painted nails flashing in the light as she moves. She’s wearing a checked red-and-white shirt tucked into high-waisted jeans, and she looks like an actress out of a movie.

  ‘You’re pink!’

  ‘You’re a day early,’ she says, raising an eyebrow. ‘Actually, you’re more than a day early. School hasn’t even finished yet.’

  She drops the towel she’s folding back into the basket and walks over to wrap me in a detergent- smelling hug. Peggy always smells like washing powder.

  ‘We were let out early. Curriculum half day,’ I tell her, avoiding her eyes.

  ‘Lucky you. Wish I could finish early,’ she says with a smile. ‘Do you like my hair?’

  ‘Yes. Can you dye mine?’ I ask.

  ‘No. You’re twelve! Your mother would kill me. How is she, by the way?’

  I consider my words while the machines hum and vibrate through the floorboards, calming me. The air is swampy and thick, although I like it. It always feels like a blanket that trails around, keeping me safe.

  ‘Recovering. I do believe she’s considering going back to work.’

  ‘That’s huge, Meg.’

  I shrug, turning away before she can read my face, but there’s nothing in what I’ve said that isn’t true. I’m sure Mum is considering going back to work; it’s just that she’ll probably consider that it’s too hard.

  ‘I knew she’d get there. Grief takes time, honey,’ she says, sliding my backpack from my shoulders. ‘Number four’s empty. And here’s a top to put on so you can wash Gumby,’ she says, handing me a green t-shirt with a rainbow on it.

  I dash out the back to change. The t-shirt is so soft that it’s almost transparent; like it’s been washed so many times it’s barely holding together. It smells like lemons. I slip it on, liking how the sleeves flop down to my elbows.

  ‘Grab a biscuit while you’re there!’ Peggy calls to me like she can read my thoughts. ‘There’s some in the tin. I haven’t quite finished the lasagne because I thought you’d be here tomorrow!’

  I snatch a couple of biscuits with chocolate piped in perfect lines across the top from Peggy’s favourite vintage cake tin. I hold them in my warm hand, feeling the chocolate press into my skin. Then I shove one after another into my mouth and lick my palm.

  Mum disappears with the first biscuit, and Lina with the second. I try to make Riley vanish too, although I doubt even eating the entire tin of biscuits would keep her out of my head.

  ‘That green’s a great colour on you,’ says Peggy, looking up from folding sheets when I walk over to the machine.

  I toss Gumby and the rest of the washing in and sprinkle the good laundry powder across the lot. There are barely enough clothes for half a load. I turn the dial, causing the water to start flooding in.

  ‘Meg? Did you hear me?’

  ‘What?’

  I look over and see concern on Peggy’s face. I try to find a smile.

  ‘You okay?’ she asks, putting down the sheets and moving closer.

  ‘I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers,’ I say, hoping the quote will lighten the mood.

  ‘It’s December tomorrow,’ says Peggy, rubbing her hand through her pink hair.

  ‘Well, yes, although the quote doesn’t work quite so well if I make it accurate,’ I tell her.

  ‘You’re shaking, honey,’ she says, touching me.

  I swallow, but crumbs from a biscuit rise in my throat. As Peggy’s arms wrap around my middle, I begin to come unstuck. There’s a shudder from my feet, up my body and a sob erupts from my throat before I can silence it.

  Peggy pulls me in even closer so I can feel her ribs and her strong arms circling me and it’s all I need to start crying and hiccupping and sobbing all over her. Everything pours out in a snotty mess. Each time one wave ends, another starts. Until I’ve emptied it all.

  ‘Come on, let’s go out the back,’ she says, leading me around the laundromat. First she slides the lock up and turns the sign that says she’ll be back in five, and then she guides me out through the door into the back room.

  She places me down onto a chair and starts making tea. I wipe my eyes with both palms, then give up and just hold the green t-shirt up, covering my face.

  ‘Lucky I own a laundromat,’ she says softly. ‘Two sugars today,’ she says, spooning it into my cup.

  ‘Sorry,’ I tell her.

  ‘What for?’

  I shrug but choose not to look up. Instead, I’m staring at the floor, at the cracks, at the scratches.

  ‘Meg, it’s okay,’ she says, reaching over and touching my hand.

  But it’s not. I don’t tell. I keep it hidden. I’m slipping. This isn’t good. This is Riley’s fault
. She started scratching at the edges and unpicked my scabs and now I’m oozing in public.

  I roll my shoulders and feel a tug as the muscle stretches down the middle of my back. Everything’s stiff. Everything hurts.

  ‘I’d better go,’ I say, standing up.

  Peggy places both hands on my shoulders. I feel them kneading into my skin. ‘Sit down,’ she says, forcing me back into the chair.

  I say nothing as the kettle screams behind her and she turns away to fill the teapot with water. I could make a run for it. But she reaches across for my hand. I let her take it. I let her squeeze it between her warm palms. She holds on, just waiting for me to be ready.

  I reach for a biscuit but stop. It doesn’t seem right to be eating at the moment. Peggy must sense how I feel because she pushes the tin towards me along with my tea. This time I take a biscuit and start nibbling around the edge.

  ‘What’s happened? Is it your mum?’ says Peggy quietly.

  I look up at her. Her eyes are so soft and concerned.

  It’s all too much.

  I jump up and knock the cup of tea, spilling it everywhere. I can’t be here.

  ‘Meg …’

  She chases after me but I’m faster than her. As I bound out onto the street, I realise all my washing is still churning and turning in the big steel drum of Peggy’s machine.

  The front room doesn’t take long to vacuum and tidy up. I like keeping this room neat. Nobody really uses it much anymore, although if I need to feel close to Dad, this is where I come. He built the bookshelves that line the walls. They’re made of thick slabs of red gum he had left over from a building site. It was our story room; Dad and me. We’d curl up in front of the heater and I could pick any story I wanted from the library in his head, and we’d snuggle up and he’d put on funny voices as he talked.

  I punch the cushions and rearrange them on the couch and then draw the curtains so that the room looks used. The sunlight stripes through the window and casts tree shadows on the furniture. The room might be tidy, although it still doesn’t look like it has any life. I dash out the back into the yard to the magnolia tree that has just started flowering. I reach up and grab a branch with four bulbous pink and white flowers getting ready to spread their petals, and bend the stem halfway down. It takes a few goes back and forth until it snaps and then I carry it carefully back into the house.