I go inside to get my wallet and phone, and when I come back out into the annex, Mum’s putting the kettle on.
‘Where’re you off to?’
‘Zin’s place.’
‘I miss having friends like that.’
The electric kettle starts to bubble.
‘Like what?’
‘Just the intensity of it – where you know everything about their life and they know everything about yours.’
‘Really?’ I ask, thinking about all the things that my friends don’t know about me. ‘’Cause most of the time they just frustrate the hell out of me.’
‘I sort of lost touch with most of my friends,’ Mum says, ignoring the kettle as it clicks off behind her. ‘When I met your father and we moved out here, then when you came and I had to start moonlighting. I don’t know – there just wasn’t enough time and I didn’t really realise how much things were changing. Until they’d already changed.’
‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ I say, because what else can you say to that? I am bearing witness. It’s important to bear witness.
She nods without speaking.
‘Hang on a sec,’ I say, going into the bedroom and coming out with the wad of money from the track. ‘Here.’
‘Oh.’ She flicks through it, counting it, and tucks it into her bra. I’ve noticed that she does that more and more – as though she doesn’t quite trust Dad to stay out of her wallet and handbag. I think of how I keep stuffing my letter down my bra and wonder if it’s a habit I’ve picked up from Mum. A way to store the vital things in our lives.
I shift. I want to ask if she used enough ‘I’ statements, but I’m pretty sure she’d just get mad at me. ‘Did you talk to him about it?’
‘I think talk’s putting it a bit too mildly.’
‘Sorry.’
Mum sighs. ‘No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Thanks for telling me – I needed to know.’
I think about telling Mum that Dad hadn’t wanted me to tell her, how he’d asked me to keep it from her. I think about telling Mum how angry it had made me – him asking me for something like that, wanting loyalty, after everything he’s put us through. But the truth is, I don’t know whether I should say something. Whether it’ll make Mum feel even worse than she already does; whether it will flare her anger back up at Dad. I’m learning that sometimes it’s better to just keep your mouth shut.
Taylor comes out into the annex as I’m pulling on my shoes.
‘You’re grounded, Taylor!’ Mum calls.
Taylor rolls her eyes. ‘Where are you going?’ she asks me.
‘Zin’s.’
She waves an arm in the direction of Mum and Dad. ‘They’re still in a weird mood after last night. You can’t leave me with them.’
‘You should’ve thought of that before you got yourself grounded.’ It’s important for Taylor to occasionally have consequences for saying whatever she wants. She needs to find the balance between her emotions and other people’s. I blink, impressed with my insight.
‘I didn’t do anything wrong!’
I pick up my backpack. ‘Bye, Tay.’
‘Don’t you dare go!’ she hisses, making a grab for me.
I manage to dodge her and sprint outside, squinting in the sun. I walk to Zin’s place via the bakery where Gavin, the manager, gives me some of yesterday’s doughnuts. On the doorstep, I get the flower out of the envelope and tuck the envelope back down my top.
‘What happened?’ Zin throws the door open before I have a chance to knock.
‘Yeah,’ says Clem from the living room, where he’s messing around on her laptop. Zin shares a room with two of her sisters, so when we stay we sleep in the living room. ‘What happened?’
‘You look awful, Clem.’
‘I’m drunk on cologne,’ he says. ‘I think you poured half a bottle on me.’
‘Where’s Tahlia?’
Zin snorts. ‘Oh, my parents took one look at her and made her parents come and get her. Which was kinda good. She was throwing up a lot.’
‘I don’t think I’ll ever be able to drink Fanta again,’ says Clem, looking wistful. He snaps the laptop shut and props his chin in his hands.
‘Hey, Zin?’ I hand her the flower. ‘What’s this?’
She glances down at it. ‘Lilac. Why?’
‘Just wondering.’
‘Why, though? Where’d you get it?’
‘Found it at Fair – at home.’
‘I didn’t know you had lilacs at your place! I thought you just had those magnolias!’
‘No. It’s . . . anyway, doesn’t matter.’
Zin hands me back the flower and Lara prods me. ‘So, what happened? We’re dying here!’
‘Joshua was just being a jerk with Chelsea and I expressed my—’
‘True emotional state? Your inner goddess? You continued the righteous path towards the truth that is your best life?’ Lara suggests.
‘I’m not going to talk to you if you mock me.’
‘Sorry. Continue.’
‘Anyway, I kicked him and elbowed him and she got away. It was a public service. It wasn’t violence.’
‘A jerk how?’ Clem asks.
‘Not listening when she was saying no.’
Zin shakes her head. ‘Did you get him in the nuts?’
‘No. I didn’t think of that.’
‘You really need a brother,’ says Zin.
Clem pulls a pillow onto his lap. ‘You’ve done that to your brothers?’
‘Only when they deserved it.’
Clem gives her a long, distrustful look and then nods at me. ‘Continue, Price.’
‘And then Matthew just walked home with me. It’s no big deal.’
‘Where does he even live?’ Lara asks. ‘It’s nowhere near your place!’
‘Doesn’t he live at Fairyland? Or somewhere near there?’ Clem asks, scratching his chin.
Zin shudders. ‘I hate that place.’
‘It’s not that bad,’ I say. ‘We’re a very judgemental community.’
‘Yes, it is!’ Lara stretches out her long legs. ‘It is that bad. My parents signed a petition to get it closed. It’s like a ghetto.’
‘It’s not a ghetto!’
‘It’s a ghetto,’ says Lara.
‘Why are you so anti-Fairyland? Your parents own that caravan up at that park near the beach.’
Lara snorts. ‘That’s a holiday park. Completely different.’
‘How? Fairyland’s by the river. Water’s water.’
‘I swear the river was glowing green the other night,’ Zin says, picking at a pimple on her chin.
‘Why are you so obsessed with Fairyland all of a sudden?’ Lara asks.
‘More importantly, why would Matthew walk you all the way home if there’s not something going on with you two? I don’t get it – I didn’t even know that he knew who you were. No offence,’ Zin says, looking thoughtful.
‘There’s nothing going on.’