Zin and Lara turn up. Zin’s become weirdly nostalgic about everything now that we’re about to start Year Twelve, and she leans against the living-room doorway, tearfully staring in at us.
‘Zin,’ says Lara. ‘Not cute. Creepy.’
‘You guys, these are the best days of our lives,’ Zin says as she walks into the living room and flops down next to Clem. ‘We have to make the most of them.’
Clem closes his eyes and holds up a finger.
‘What are you doing?’ she asks.
‘Counting to ten so I don’t yell at you.’
‘Make it twenty,’ Lara says darkly. ‘She’s been nagging me non-stop about going to Lee’s tonight.’
‘Gross,’ says Clem.
‘He plays soccer,’ Lara agrees wearily.
‘I play soccer,’ Clem says.
‘Don’t remind me.’
‘Oh, c’mon! Let’s go! Lee’s isn’t far from here. You’re with me, right? Stell?’
‘What? No! We’re watching movies!’ I say.
‘I’m not going to Lee’s,’ says Clem.
‘See?’ Lara points at us, looking gratified. ‘Sensible.’
Zin pokes Clem. ‘C’mon! We need to get out there and enjoy our youth, Clements!’
‘Do not Clements me.’ Clem crosses his arms. ‘Lee’s annoying.’
‘I hate parties,’ Lara says.
‘That’s because you haven’t been to one since you were six,’ Zin says. ‘They tend not to be held at indoor play centres these days.’
‘Hey,’ Lara says, wounded. ‘I have too! I have too been to parties!’
‘C’mon. We don’t have to stay late. I told Tahlia I’d be there – she’s staying over after. You guys can too if you want.’ Zin latches onto my arm. ‘Please?’
We all stare at her.
‘Please! We can even get sushi on the way! There’s a sushi bar near Lee’s!’
‘I hate sushi,’ Clem mutters.
‘You’re half-Japanese!’ Zin says. ‘You can’t hate sushi if you’re half-Japanese.’
‘It must be my Chinese half, then,’ he snaps. ‘My Chinese half hates sushi.’
Lara narrows her eyes. ‘How can anyone hate sushi?’
‘Please, please can we go?’ Zin begs.
Lara sighs and rubs at her forehead as though she’s got a bad headache. ‘She’s not going to stop. She didn’t stop the entire walk here. I considered dodging down an alley to try to lose her.’
‘She’d notice,’ Clem says, shaking his head. ‘She notices all sorts of annoying things like that.’
‘I guess it isn’t that far away . . .’ I say reluctantly. I’ve still got the money I took off Dad pressed into my shoes. I suppose it’ll be safe down there. My shoes are laced on pretty tight.
Clem glances at me. ‘You want to go?’
‘To shut Zin up.’
Clem sighs. ‘Fine. We’ll go for an hour, but that’s it.’ He bends down to pull on his shoes.
Zin freezes. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Putting on my shoes so we can get this over with.’
‘In that?’
‘What do you mean, in that? These are my Saturday-night clothes!’
‘There’s a dried noodle stuck to your t-shirt,’ Lara says.
‘So?’ He plucks it off. ‘This is what I’m wearing.’
Zin shakes her head and stands up. ‘Oh, dear sweet Clements. No, no. It’s very definitely not.’
***
By the time we get to Lee’s place, it’s fully dark and we all smell like cologne. Clem’s freshly shaven, wearing a pressed shirt and a nice pair of jeans and scowling like he normally only scowls when the canteen sells out of his favourite ice-cream cups.
‘I’m going to get bashed, wearing this outfit,’ he mutters. ‘Do you want me to get bashed?’
‘Stop complaining,’ I say. ‘Nobody’s going to bash you.’
‘I hate to say it, but you look good,’ Lara says, elbowing him. ‘Stop sulking.’
‘He looks great!’ Zin says, spinning in front of us. She’s picked us all handfuls of flowers from people’s front gardens. Lara says it’s theft, but Zin says it’s fair game if it’s hanging over the footpath. The houses around this part of Sutherbend are all tired-looking. Tall grass and old cars. Broken flywire and faded garden gnomes.
Lara groans. ‘Can someone give her a sedative or something?’
‘She’ll tire herself out soon,’ I say. I’m sort of glad we’re going out. Taylor had texted me to say she’d taken off to Adam’s because Mum and Dad were having a very emphatic, low-volume fight over Dad being at the track. And it’s probably going to be easier to put all that stuff out of my head by going to a party than by watching movies I’ve seen a million times before. I smell the flowers. Daisies and lavender and a few others I don’t know. It’s a lovely thing, having someone pick flowers for you.
‘How’s the adoption stuff?’ Lara asks.
‘Lara!’ says Zin, utterly horrified. ‘You can’t just ask that!’
‘Ask what?’
‘Just ask about the adoption like that!’
‘Why not?’
‘Because you just can’t!’
Zin nudges Clem and he grins. ‘Yeah, Lara. Shame, shame, shame.’
‘Stell doesn’t care if I ask like that!’ Lara snaps. She glances at me. ‘You don’t care, right?’
‘’Course not. It’s good to communicate honestly and openly.’
‘See? There you go. She doesn’t want us to walk on eggshells around her,’ says Lara. ‘We’re her best friends.’
‘She’s right next to you,’ I grumble.
‘Right. Sorry.’
‘And I’m still processing the stuff – it’s a lot to emotionally digest. It’s not avoidance, it’s just a big-feelings meal.’
‘A big-feelings meal?’ Clem shakes his head. ‘Dear Lord, where do you get this stuff?’
‘The crash course they gave her on the mother ship before dropping her on Earth,’ Lara says. ‘They’ll be back to collect her any day, now.’
‘I resent that,’ I say. ‘Don’t be jealous because I’m more emotionally evolved than you.’
‘No one’s jealous of that, Price,’ Clem says gently. ‘No one at all.’
We hear the music before we can see the house and Lara sighs. ‘The cops’ll be here soon. Which idiot put the music up that loud?’
‘There’s a lot to choose from,’ Clem says.
‘Oh, lighten up.’ Zin grabs onto my arm. ‘Do we go in?’
‘If you’ve made me shave so we can stand on the street and then go home, I’ll be mad. You know I hate shaving.’
‘Feral,’ Lara says.
A carload of guys slows down and they scream out, ‘Fatty!’
Zin curls in on herself. Lara takes off down the street after them, waving her arms and swearing, but there’s no way to take the word back. It hangs over us, heavy on the summer air.