Blue Water High (9 page)

Fly had been around the land long enough to have watched big trees being felled. It always made her want to cry, when the giants came down. And it was one of the
only things she and her father argued about. They argued until they were black in the face. They argued until Fly's mother made a rule that there were to be no environmental discussions inside the house. It was hard, loving your parent and hating what they thought. Fly's dad had been brought up in a different time. In a time before global warming, before wildlife funds, before it was reasonable for grown men in koala suits to harass you in the street for money. In Fly's dad's opinion, the land served the man, not the other way round …

Anyway, the point was that she'd seen enough tree felling to know that, without a doubt, the noise coming from the boys' bedroom was exactly the sound a woodchipping machine makes as it tries to break the evidence of the crime that's just happened into a million little pieces.

Fly arrived in the doorway. It wasn't a woodchipper. It was Edge. Snoring like – well, like a woodchipper. Heath and Matt were in the middle of something they were clearly very pleased about. Heath was holding Matt's phone close to Edge's mouth. Matt had one of those fancy-shmancy numbers which had a video camera on it and the boys were recording Edge's woodchipping. Fly watched them, conspiring as if they'd been friends since kindy. Everyone seemed so settled here …

After a moment of fiddling with buttons Heath placed the phone on the pillow beside Edge's ear. He and Matt exchanged a last glance of pure pleasure before Edge's snoring erupted and he shot up in bed like he'd been zapped with a cattle prod.

Edge did not have a long fuse. When he was woken from sleep it was even shorter. But Fly couldn't stay around to witness the fallout because Anna's phone was ringing, and
that could only mean one thing. Either Anna had a friend in Australia she didn't know about, or it was news from home.

Fly sprinted up the corridor into her room and pounced on the phone.

‘Hello?'

‘Hello, Sis.' It was Nell. Fly was sure she'd never heard a sweeter sound.

‘I've been so worried!' Fly said.

‘Everything's alright. No hepatitis. I've got glandular fever but I'm allowed home tomorrow.'

‘That's great.' But Fly couldn't help feeling, somewhere deep in the pit of her stomach, a glimmer of disappointment. Had she been hoping for a bigger drama? A reason to have to go home? She threw it out there anyway, just in case.

‘You don't think I should come home? 'Cause I can.'

Nell clearly did not think her sister should come home. She just wanted Fly to relax. She couldn't talk long on the hospital phone because they charged a fortune, but Fly wasn't ready to let go. Remembering Anna's cheap night rates she told her sister she'd call back. It wouldn't be a long call, but she wasn't ready to let go of this voice from home. Not yet.

Fly called back, nestled in bed properly now. She kept her voice low, careful not to wake Anna. Nell pummelled her with questions about what it was like, and Fly did her best to sound cheery, to hide the homesickness.

‘I'm loving it, Nell,' she said.
Yeah right, if you love coming last
.

‘School's great,' she said.
If you love people thinking you should be in Year 10
.

‘The other guys are great.' She meant this bit. She really thought they were. She had no trouble talking them up at
all. She told Nell about what a wicked freestyler Edge was – that he'd been followed around by surf magazines for years. He mightn't have always been on the podium but Fly knew that surfing photographers only hung around people whose stuff was spectacular to look at. She talked about Bec, who was one of the most hardcore, together girls she'd ever met. Not frightened by anyone or anything. There was no question for Fly that Perri was a goddess. She'd been modelling for five years and if she didn't get a place on the circuit she'd basically already sewn up a career in sponsorship. Matt was the King Island brainiac – completely fearless. His home break was the heaviest wave in Australia. Then there was Anna – the full kiteboarding professional and kind beyond words.

Fly trailed off.

‘That's only five,' said Nell. ‘I thought there were seven of you.'

‘Oh yeah, I forgot Heath.' As if. Fly just didn't know what to say. Nell always knew when Fly wasn't telling the absolute truth so it made her nervous. ‘Heath's … a nice guy … He's part Maori. And he's making a doco about the year. Everyone reckons if he doesn't make it onto the circuit he'll be like a surf director or something.'

Sounded alright to Fly; maybe she'd actually pulled it off. But Nell knew her too well. ‘And?' she asked.

‘And nothing.' Fly sounded defensive, but she couldn't help it.

‘He's nice. He's been a good friend to me since I got here.'

‘Good,' said Nell. ‘Though at some point you're going to have to move past the “good friends” thing with guys.'

Fly knew Nell was probably right. But she wasn't ready. Not yet. Heath was a friend. End of story.

Nell finally let the Heath issue go, and she and Fly chatted about life on the farm and what was going on around the town. It was good for Fly. It made her feel real. When they'd been on the phone for twenty minutes, she very reluctantly admitted that it was time to go. She sent Nell the biggest telephone hug imaginable and told her to have sweet dreams.

Before rolling over to sleep, she pressed the button to end the call. At least she thought that's what she'd done.

But she hadn't done that at all.

An alarm clock screamed. And then another. And another. All the way down the hallway. Fly rolled out of her dream. She'd been involved in some sort of investigation on the farm – missing sheep or something weird. She yawned and let go of the sheep mystery, reaching out with one arm to check that it really was five am, and not some horrible joke.

On the bedside table by the alarm clock sat Anna's phone. It seemed to be flashing. Fly reached over and picked it up.

CALL ON HOLD
the phone flashed.

On hold?

Fly's head was spinning. She could sense someone talking to her but there had been a serious meltdown on Fly's hard drive and the connection between her brain and her ears was on fire. She looked across the room and saw that it was Anna who was talking to her, asking if her sister was okay, but the words were a long way away. And they were a long way away because there were other words screaming in the front row: OH MY GOD, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?

She must've mumbled something vaguely sensible because Anna just nodded and headed off to the shower. Fly sat there staring at the evil mobile in her hand. She sat there alone, shaking, punching at buttons on the phone – dialled numbers, call costs …

Fly closed her eyes, then opened them to look at the amount glowing on the screen. Her family were skint and she had run up a mobile bill of $274.74!

Double Oh My God, with Hellfire on top.

Everyone could tell there was something weird going on with Fly that morning, but with Simmo bouncing around hurrying them up there wasn't time to push it. Simmo was extra bouncy today because Deb had organised a special army-style training session for them. No-one could decide whether he was getting some sick pleasure out of the pain he knew was in store for them, or whether he was just excited about having the morning off to read the paper in peace.

As they all stood staring at the obstacle course Deb had laid out for them, they decided Simmo was definitely sick. A large rope net was suspended from a frame. There were things to jump over, to crawl under, to shimmy around, to squeeze through, to carry on your back. Things to make you hurt and sweat and wish you'd never gotten out of bed for the trials in the first place. Deb ignored the misery on their faces – she knew they were only going to look worse at the other end. She blew hard into her whistle. No-one moved.

Deb stared. ‘Did I mention this is a time trial? And that the points are going on the board?'

The group burst into life.

Edge was first up and over the rope netting. He had the kind of reckless energy that meant he just hurled himself at things and hoped for the best. Matt was right up there with him, followed by Heath, then Anna, with Bec, Perri … and Fly bringing up the rear.

The next pleasure was to flatten themselves to the ground, crawling on their bellies under another large net. Once they reached the end there were enormous hessian bags full of sand which they had to carry on their backs while they darted in and out of a row of uneven poles. Deb had definitely been watching too much reality TV.

Even though she was in physical pain, Fly couldn't really feel it. The only thing she could think about was the phone call, and why she hadn't just said something there and then, as soon as she realised what had happened. Fly wasn't big on messing with the truth. It just wasn't in her. But now, by keeping her mistake to herself, she kind of had lied. When Anna asked her if she was okay, she nodded. And that was as good as a lie. Fly couldn't have been more miserable if this were a real war zone with real bullets.

Edge was losing a bit of steam as they started to clamber over the stiles. By the time they reached the end and headed for the monkey bars Matt had taken the lead. Fly saw Heath looking back, clocking her progress. Yep, still coming last, thanks for checking! Her foot slipped as she came off the last stile and her ankle yelled at her in protest, but Fly wasn't stopping. She ignored the pain and ran towards the monkey bars. The rest of them had almost finished before she'd even started.

‘Give Fly a leg-up, will you, boys?' Deb called out.

‘I can do it!' Fly yelled.

She took a long running leap, eyes totally focused on the smooth grey bar she needed to reach. She launched, she flew through the air … she fell flat on her face in the sand.

Unlike Simmo, Deb took little pleasure in their pain. She gathered them together at the end of the training session and told them how proud she was. They were the strongest team she'd seen yet. Bec pointed out that it was Deb's first year at the academy, but none of them minded. They were all happy with a little praise. Deb had another announcement. She'd decided to get all her dastardly duties out of the way on the same day – that way they could hate her guts for a week and get over it. She needed to tell them about one of their other obligations.

‘So,' she started. ‘Gorgeous beach. All the surfing you want. Great pad to live in. Pretty privileged life, isn't it?'

‘Come on, Deb. Get to the bad bit,' said Matt.

‘Solar Blue think it's important for you guys to keep your life here balanced. Some of you will be going back home at the end of the year, and if you don't keep your feet on the ground, that's going to be tough.'

‘And the bad bit Deb?' Matt prompted.

‘The bit you might not be thrilled about is that you have to do community service. Eighty hours throughout the year.'

There was instant uproar. When would they fit it in between school and study and surfing? Blah, blah, blah. All the usual complaints.

Deb heard them out but it was clear this was not negotiable.