Girl Saves Boy (12 page)

‘What?’ I said, ‘Oh, nah. Spider Man was Al’s idea.’

‘I thought so,’ said Jewel. We walked back towards the centre of the fete—all the stalls and rides had been packed up and those who had stayed were hanging around the basketball court near a temporary stage, where a rockabilly band was now playing.

‘Should we get something to eat?’ I asked.

‘That’d be great,’ said Jewel. ‘Any longer up that tree and I would have died of starvation.’

I grinned. ‘I doubt that.’

‘It’s true.’

I glanced up. But no, it wasn’t True; she was just saying true the opposite of false.

‘Sorry if you didn’t enjoy yourself today,’ I said to Jewel. ‘I realise it’s probably a lot more fun if you know most of the people here.’

‘No, I had fun,’ she said. ‘Sorry if I was weird, disappearing and hiding in a tree.’

I shrugged. ‘Weird’s okay with me.’

‘Good, ’cause there’s going to be a lot more of it.’

I laughed.

We reached the basketball court. The band was set up at one end, and clusters of teachers, students, families and friends were in front of the stage. Some people had picnic blankets; others had folding tables. Around the perimeter of the court were small marquees selling wine and food.

We stood at the edge for a moment, until I spotted Al, standing on a chair and waving crazily at us. He was probably tall enough without the chair, and now he towered over everybody.

We made our way over to him. He was with a couple of his sisters, a brother, and his mum. The music was a loud cover of a song I recognised but didn’t know the name of. The band was pretty good, all dressed up in 1950s stuff.

‘Hey!’ Al yelled over the music. ‘I saved you seats.’

Jewel and I sat down, Jewel smiling uncomfortably and holding her satchel in front of her like a shield.

Al’s brother Mason leant towards us. ‘You kids hungry?’

Before we could reply, he’d got up. ‘I’ll grab you some sausages in bread. Anyone else? Miri?’

Al’s older sister was breastfeeding her baby. ‘Get me one, too,’ she said.

Our chairs were set up in a rough semi-circle around a picnic blanket. Maddie slept in her mother’s lap.

‘Mum,’ said Al. ‘This is Jewel. Jewel, this is my mum.’

‘Pleasure to meet you,’ murmured Jewel.

Sal smiled broadly. ‘Pleasure to meet
you
, love,’ she said. ‘Jewel’s a beautiful name.’ Then she turned to Al. ‘Is this the girl you were telling me about who saved Sacha’s life?’

Al nodded.

‘It’s no big deal,’ said Jewel.

‘It sure is,’ she said. ‘They give folks like you medals, Jewel. Don’t they, Al?’

‘Totally,’ agreed Al.

‘What’s the name of this band?’ asked Jewel, changing the subject.

‘Oh,’ said Al, ‘it changes every week. That’s my dad on the drums. He’s not just a pretty face,’ he added sarcastically.

‘Don’t say that about your father!’ Sal turned to Jewel. ‘Everyone in our family has
many
strings to their bows. And we consider young Sacha here a part of this family.’ She winked at me. ‘I’m Sal, by the way. Sal Mitchell,’ she said to Jewel.

Sal proceeded to introduce Jewel to everyone in the family. Miri put her baby back in his pram and rocked it slowly. The band finished playing one song and started another.

‘You’ve got different-coloured eyes,’ Sal said. ‘Wow.’

Jewel blushed.

‘It’s called heterochromia,’ said Little Al.

Miri snorted. ‘How do you fit all this inside your head?’

‘Wikipedia?’ I asked.

‘I learnt it in Year 7 Science, all right?’

‘You did Year 7 Science in Grade 3,’ I said.

‘It’s simple,’ he said, nodding. ‘It’s Greek. Hetero—different. Chromia—colour.’

‘Does that mean…’ said Sal, smiling, ‘that I’m homochromic?’

We all laughed.

‘Mum, stop being stupid!’ moaned Miri.

Even though Al’s family was kind of obnoxious and dirt poor and so big you could get lost in it, I wished that it was my own. As much as I loved my dad, just him and me was lonely, and lonelier still when it became him and Mr Carr, and me, separate from it all.

Someone ruffled my hair. ‘How’s it going, folks?’

Speak of the devil.

Sal smiled and blinked repeatedly. ‘Mr Thomas, lovely to see you.’

Dad stepped around and grasped her hand in an awkward hello. ‘Call me Tristan.’

‘
Tristan
.’ Sal fanned herself with her hand.

‘Mum,’ sighed Al, ‘he’s
gay
.’ Then he said to Dad, ‘She’s got the hots for you.’

I laughed. ‘You’re a bit blunt, Al.’

Sal frowned at him.

Dad shook his head and smiled at us all, waving at each person in turn. He paused at Jewel. ‘I don’t believe we’ve met.’

‘I’m Jewel.’

They shook hands.

‘You’ve got lovely eyes, Jewel,’ he said.

‘Thank you,’ she said, eyes downcast.

‘Where’s Mr Carr?’ I asked.

‘Jason’s just getting something to eat,’ he said. ‘Are you going to need a lift back home, Sach?’

Al answered for me: ‘We’ll drive him back. We’ve got a few cars. Sorry about saying the gay thing. We’re not homophobes or anything.’

‘In fact, I’m homochromatic,’ said Sal.

We all laughed again.

Dad smiled faintly at me. ‘I guess you guys will be all right. See you later on, Sacha.’ He cast a final look around the group, pausing on Jewel, right next to me. ‘Don’t let my boy stay out too late, Sal.’

‘You know I look after him like my own son.’

Dad smiled. ‘Bye.’

After he left, Jewel leant close and whispered to me, ‘I like your dad.’

‘Most people do.’

The rockabilly band finished their last song on stage. Al’s dad did a final roll of the drums, and we clapped wildly. Al got back up on his chair and whistled.

When Al’s dad and his girlfriend returned to the group, Al introduced them to Jewel.

‘Jewel, this is my dad, David,’ said Al. ‘And this is June. Dad, June, this is Jewel.’

Jewel shook hands with them both and murmured hello. They settled into their seats, and, once everyone had drinks, the noisy conversation resumed.

Jewel frowned and whispered to me again. ‘Is June related to Al?’

‘No, she’s his dad’s girlfriend. His mum and dad are split up but they all live under the same roof,’ I explained.

‘Seems a bit weird.’

‘I thought so too, at first. But everyone’s weird. You see past their weirdness and they’ll see past yours,’ I said.

Jewel smiled at me. ‘They should put that on a bumper sticker.’

Our heads were close together as we whispered. It was such a perfect quiet moment—the moon hanging low in the sky, being a part of the raucous family that was joyful if a little weird, the smell of barbecue in the air, whispering to Jewel. Somehow, the ordinary school basketball court had become magical.

I wanted to be able to capture it, keep it as a last happy memory, be able to come back to it and relive this moment. I wanted to be able to lean a little closer and kiss Jewel. It would be stupid and embarrassing in front of Al’s family, but, God, I wanted to.

Mason returned with our sausages in bread, piled high with onions and sloppy with tomato sauce. Jewel and I sprung apart abruptly.

‘Took you long enough!’ said Al.

Mason ignored him. ‘They’re hot,’ he warned.

‘Thanks,’ said Jewel. ‘How much?’

‘My shout,’ he replied.

‘Can you hold this for a sec? I’m going to get a Coke,’ I said, handing her my sausage in bread. ‘Wait here.’

‘Okay,’ Jewel said. ‘Can you get one for me?’ She handed both sausages in bread to Little Al, and fumbled in her bag.

‘It’s all right, it’ll be, like, five dollars. I’ll pay,’ I said.

I headed towards the drinks tent. Weaving between groups of people, I bumped into someone.

‘Sorry,’ I mumbled. Then I looked up. ‘True?’

True and I stared at each other.

‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I haven’t seen you at all today.’

‘Funny,’ I replied. ‘Al and I saw
you
.’

Her expression didn’t give anything away. No hint of guilt.

‘I have to go, Sacha. Mum’s giving me a lift home—’

I interrupted. ‘Who was that guy?’

True rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, God. Don’t tell me Michael’s all depressed now.’

‘He is, as a matter of fact,’ I said. ‘But that’s kind of beside the point. I thought you weren’t getting involved with boys.’

‘Are you in love with me as well now?’ Her tone was sharp.

‘You know what I like about you, True? Your humility, kindness, consideration of other people’s feelings…’

‘Maybe I changed my attitude the other night. Decided, hey, maybe I ought to start living my life to the full.’

‘And next thing you were pashing some guy on the oval, today? You work quick, True.’

‘Oh, dear God,’ she muttered. ‘I’ve known him for ages, okay?’

‘When I said “Have fun” it wasn’t code for “Go pash
some guy
you’ve known for
ages
and break Al’s heart.”’

‘He’s not heartbroken,’ she said. ‘He’ll get over it soon enough. He’s being a drama queen.’

‘He was practically catatonic,’ I said. ‘Then he became hysterical. I don’t know which was worse.’

‘Maybe you should stop speaking for him,’ True said. ‘Maybe you should give up on trying to set us up.’

‘I’m not,’ I said, indignant. ‘I never have.’

True frowned. ‘Sacha, I don’t want to have this conversation here or now—’

‘True—’

‘Stop interrupting me!’ she hissed. One of our teachers came by and threw us a concerned glance. We both smiled at her and she moved on.

‘I have something important to tell you,’ I said.

True sighed. ‘You just don’t get it, do you? You’re always so melodramatic. Not everything is about you. You can’t force people to do what you think they should do. There’s such a thing as free will. Ever heard of it?’

‘Stop being so difficult and listen to me,’ I said, my voice low. As she’d spoken, her voice had become higher and higher. Cool, collected and calm True Grisham was nervous and agitated. It was bizarre. The planets must have been out of alignment.

True sighed again. In the distance, a kid squealed. Another band started to play. The drumbeat reverberated through the asphalt basketball court beneath our feet; I could feel the vibration spreading through my body.

I began, ‘I—’

‘Wait,’ said True. ‘I just want to explain something first.’ She paused and gathered her thoughts. Then she said, ‘As much as I care about you, Sacha, things have been incredibly difficult for me lately, and you’ve been doing weird, random things. I want to be there for you, for whatever you’re going through, but you’re making it difficult.’

I laughed, but it sounded fake, and my whole attempt to seem flippant fell flat. ‘You sound like my mother.’

True visibly cringed at the reference to my mum. When she regained her composure, she asked, in a quiet voice, ‘What happened, hey, at the lake?’

‘It’s kind of tied in with that important thing I had to tell you—’

True massaged her temples, and said, ‘Spit it out, Sacha.’

‘I can’t tell you here and now, okay?’ I spluttered. I swallowed and reminded myself to breathe. Inhale. Exhale.

True opened her mouth to speak—her forehead lined, a pleading look on her face—when suddenly Jewel appeared at my side. ‘Hey, drinks?’

There was a split-second of silence, but it seemed to drag on forever, like I was caught in a single frame of claymation.

‘I have to go,’ True said. ‘Let’s have this conversation another time.’ She smiled fleetingly at Jewel, but it was a distracted smile. Then she turned and left, disappearing to the parking lot. Jewel and I watched her go.

Sacha’s favourite times of day
The moment just before the sun appears over the horizon at dawn
The end of the day, after the sun sets but before the moon rises
Midnight, on a clear, still night, when everything is quiet

Jewel

I sat with my knees to my chest, and my arms wrapped around them. Little Al and his family had all got up to dance. The new band playing was louder than Al’s dad’s band. So it was just me and Sacha sitting together.

Some parents with young kids had gone home, and new people had arrived. Teachers I recognised from school wore more casual clothes, and a couple of them were stumbling drunkenly and laughing a little too hard.

Sacha noticed me watching the Maths teacher. ‘It’s always entertaining when teachers get drunk. She’ll have a couple more red wines and the students will never let her live it down,’ he said.

‘Yeah,’ I laughed.

He turned and smiled at me. ‘Are you cold?’ he asked.

I was wearing only my dress, Volleys and knitted gloves. It was pretty chilly now; I could see my own breath, a whispery cloud in front of me.

I nodded.

He shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to me.

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘What about you?’

‘I layer.’ He pointed to the long-sleeved shirt under his T-shirt.

I smiled and pulled the jacket on. It was fleecy and still warm from him.

We watched Little Al spinning to the music with his baby sister.

‘What I love about Al,’ said Sacha, ‘is the way he just doesn’t care what you think. He does what he loves and what he wants to do, and who cares what happens. I wish I had that sort of…is the word unselfconscious? Unselfconsciousness? It’s bloody long.’

‘I don’t think he’s that self-assured,’ I said. ‘The people you usually think are the bravest are often the most scared. He probably works really hard to be the person that he is.’

‘I think I know what you mean,’ he said. ‘Like when he freaked out today.’

‘What did he freak out over?’

‘We saw True kissing a stranger earlier today,’ he said. ‘Unexpected, right?’

‘Ha, there’s a bit of gossip to spread,’ I said. ‘Why did Al freak out, though?’

‘He’s kind of in love with her.’

‘Are they…together?’

‘No. And they never have been,’ Sacha said. ‘It’s a five-year unrequited crush.’

‘Does she know about this crush?’

‘She’s known from the start. He announced it over the loudspeaker during term two of Year 7.’