Fury (12 page)

He looked angry. Not just pissed-off angry, but seriously
angry
angry. I thought he might slap Marianne then. And I found myself strangely intrigued about whether it would happen. I have to admit I was a bit curious about finally seeing all that rage and pent-up sexual tension come out.

“Fine. I’m sorry,” said Marianne assessing the damage. “Here. I’ll help you clean it up.”

“Just leave it. I don’t need your help.”

“Why do you have to be so difficult? I doubt you’ve been writing legit notes anyway.”

“Why do you have to be such a show-off? I doubt you’re capable of even forming your own thoughts.”

“Why do you have to be such a fu—”

“Jones! Back in your seat.” Neil slid his arm across her shoulders and pulled her back in.

That shut her up. And Aardant. And me.

You don’t know how much.

“Class!” demanded Professor Adler. “Do not attempt to retrieve the specimen. I will retrieve it myself after class. This rat is on loan to me, please keep in mind it has to be returned to the owner in original condition.”

They let us take water into classes. Unlike other schools that might be scared of you, like, doing damage to school property with a bit of plastic and clear liquid, they care about our health here. Ninety per cent of blood is made of water. It only takes two per cent of it to go away before dehydration sets in. But the human body is very resilient. You need to lose over forty per cent of your blood before death starts to set in.

“Now for your last major assignment,” announced Professor Adler. “I want you all to document for me a case of Learned Helplessness involving humans. Note, I will not be held responsible if you inadvertently give someone psychological damage. Please take a copy of this release document and pass it along.”

I waited in the hallway after class for Marianne and Neil. Everyone had long since raced off. I just
had
to be stuck with the two exceptions to the rule. Marianne wanted to probe the Professor with more questions about the assignment, even though she knew that she would get the top mark anyway.

As for Neil … well you figure it out. Marianne always got what she wanted.

Maybe it’s been that way since Neil had that argument with six-year-old Marianne over Mr Darcy’s dietary habits, and Marianne won.

Maybe he liked following Marianne around, just like all the boys at school, with poorly rehearsed end-of-school ball invites stuck in their gobs. I mean, I thought Luke Harris, chairman of the Yearbook Committee and sorta good-looking was going to ask me to the ball today, but instead he said, “So, where’s your friend Marianne?”

Marianne, who was better than me at everything. I felt sick.

“Here,” Neil’s voice said.

In his hands, wrapped inside an old cleaning rag, was Rat B. I looked into Neil’s eyes. They were black and kind.

“Adler says I can keep him. He was planning to throw him out anyway; he says he’s no good anymore. Too much has happened. Adler says he won’t live long. But I’ll take care of him till then.”

I nodded. Neil is a good guy. Neil’s promises are good.

“At least I know he won’t try and run away like Tacky,” he added cheerfully.

I tried to smile, but my heart was broken. I should have said
thanks,
but all I could think of was Marianne. No. I am
not
jealous. Why should I be?

Over Neil’s shoulder I could see Marianne standing there, textbooks clutched in her arms, waiting impatiently. When she could feel my eyes boring into her, she turned to face me with her usual look of contempt.

Outside, it’s getting dark. The last thing I remember is waking up in the doctor’s room. I must have been under for ages. This is
so
killing me.

The doctor snaps the handcuffs on me.

“You do realise I can still knock you over the head with both fists and run away, right?”

“Eliza, I would love to cuff your ankles together, but then how would you walk?”

If I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn he thought this was fun.

“I’m taking a huge risk with you, Eliza Boans,” says Dr Fadden. “If you are stupid enough to try and run away with cuffs on, trust me, you will be found and dragged back to me like a fugitive. That would be very embarrassing for you.”

“Who says a girl with cuffs is a fugitive?” I mutter. “I could just be running away from an adventurous boyfriend.”

Dr Fadden laughs. It makes my arms breakout in goosebumps. If I had any hairs on my back, they would be standing up right now. It’s freaky. To be talking and making jokes so casually.

The doctor drives an old black station wagon that looks like it’s a hundred years old. It is trimmed in silver and has bulgy eyes like a goldfish. It looks like a funeral hearse.

“Family wagon, huh?” I say. “Where’s your family then, Brian? Are they with your female colleague? Miss Muffin?”

“Just get in the car,” replies Dr Fadden, pulling the passenger door open.

It’s become almost a game.

“I’m sorry,” I say, as I struggle to wriggle in with my hands bound in front of me. “This car is ancient. It suits you.”

“Are you hungry? You want drive-thru?”

“How are you going to explain this at the service window?” I lift my wrists. “Hmm, let me think, stubbled-face guy in a black coat rocks up in a big black car with a cuffed girl in the backseat. Doesn’t say serial killer to me at all…”

“You want to eat or not?” Dr Fadden replies. “Then you keep your hands down and shut up.”

We travel in silence.

“Sooo…” I say after a while. “You were kinda saying about Neil before…”

“Thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”

“I don’t. But how is he?” I ask and I realise it is the wrong thing to say.

“They went through the usual procedures with him. He’s in a safe place … if that’s what you’re worried about. I can release him to his parents, if you can help me clear him.”

I ignore that last part. “Will I be able to see him?”

“Are you trying to make another deal with me?”

“No,” I say quickly and I shut my mouth.

“Then it all depends whether you get out or not. So have a good hard think about that.”

I walked home with Neil and Rat B that Friday after school. I just wanted to talk about Rat B. That’s
all.

“How is he?” I asked.

“More responsive now, I think. I gave him some cheese out of my sandwich at lunch and he ate it.”

I looked at the little pink-eyed face staring out of the rag. I looked at the skinny black tie Neil was wearing. It had some sort of watermark pattern on it. I squinted to try and detect a brand. Then there was his black leather belt with the silver square buckle at the front … I realised where I was staring and quickly diverted my eyes upward.

“You know the early bird? Well, I heard you go to bed
before it.”

“Who told you that?” asked Neil with a hint of a smile on his face.

“Oh, just rumours,” I replied. “There has been a lot of talk about, you know, the attack on your house last night.”

“Well, just because the light is off in my room doesn’t mean I am asleep.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Haven’t you heard the rumour that I’m fairly popular with the ladies of this school?”

“Of course. And I believe I’m staring right at the person who started that rumour. I doubt you were being ‘popular’ with the ladies though. More like being ‘popular’ with a comic book under the sheets.”

I could still feel his postcard inside the pocket of my blazer.
I’d been meaning to take it out. Seriously…

“Hey, don’t hurt my feelings,” said Neil. “Comic books rock. I think I’d rather spend my time with one than with any of you vapid Priory girls.”

I grinned.

We were standing on the bridge. We used to meet here when we were little. Right in the middle. We liked to watch the yachts sail away. The water is the only other way you can leave East Rivermoor.

The water that day was the same colour as the sky so I couldn’t tell where everything started and where it ended. The houses stood in front of us, lined up like debutantes in different coloured dresses, waiting to be asked for the first dance.

“Here, hold him.”

“Oh,” I said awkwardly, not knowing where to put my hands.

“How do I—?”

“Like this. There you go!”

The wind was blowing pieces of my hair around my face. My hair had a mind of its own, reaching out like fingers toward Neil. I bunched it all up self-consciously. I wished I could do something nice with my hair, like Marianne did with hers. But I wasn’t good at much.

“Thanks,” I said and I popped the rat on top of Neil’s head. Like I used to do with Tacky.

“Hey!”

“It looks great on you. Seriously. It’s the latest trend. All the boys in Europe are doing it.”

“I think it’ll look better on you,” he replied and reached for the rat. I pushed it back onto his head and my hand brushed his hair.

“What shampoo do you use?” I pressed his shoulder down and pushed my nose into his black hair. “It smells nice.”

“Head and Shoulders? I don’t know! Get off me.”

“I wanna touch your hair! It’s so salon smooth.” I rearranged the rat so the front paws went over one of Neil’s ears.

“Remind me again, are you turning seven or seventeen this year?” asked Neil.

“I like your hair,” I said and I twisted a lock of it between my fingers. “Give me some.”

“Give you
what?”

“Your hair.”

“You’re a strange, strange little girl Eliza Roberta Boans.”

“That’s a compliment,” I replied with a shrug. My cheeks felt hot. I held Rat B out with both hands like a peace offering. “I just wanna put some of it in a locket and wear it every single day and tell everyone how you’re, like, my sun and my moon and that every day without you makes my life ebb away a little bit more…”

When he reached his fingers out, they brushed against mine.

“I’ll see you at the party,” he said.

“So is that a yes?”

“Yes, as in I’ll be there.”

“Meet me on the bridge? I’ll bring the scissors.”

“Goodnight, Eliza.”

I stood and watched Neil as he headed up Grovelands. Honestly, I wouldn’t have watched. If not for the fact I was looking out for Rat B.

It was then I noticed that Neil didn’t go down Southgate to get to his place. He just kept walking. I should have thought about Marianne and what happened with Aardant. I should have remembered how Neil said, “I’m sorry, I won’t let that happen again.” I should have thought something of it, but at the time, I guess, I was just thinking about the rat in his pocket.

“Eliza? I said
Eliza,
what do you want?”

“Huh? Oh. Sorry. Um … a double cheeseburger and large fries. With extra pickle.”

I wonder if I should ask for a coke as well. I don’t have a calorie counter and don’t want to overdo it, just in case.

“So the deal. That’s still on, right?”

“I said yes the first time didn’t I?” Dr Fadden chucks the brown paper bag at me and drives off.

“You promise you’ll take me straight to see Lexi after I tell you what happened? You won’t back out?”

“I promise.”

“Then here goes.”

The party marked the change of many things. The very least being Ella’s hair colour.

Curfew on non-school nights and public holidays is a generous eleven p.m. At seven-thirty, one-and-a-half-hours fashionably late, Marianne, Lexi and I walked arm in arm toward Jane Mutton’s house.

“So, we’re going to Eliza’s for a ‘study and sleepover’ right?” said Lexi.

“Check,” replied Marianne cheerfully.

After much prodding, Marianne had finally been convinced to abandon her weekend super-study session to come out with us. After assigning Marianne to what Marianne does best—
organising the present, setting the cover story and generally bossing everyone around—she was even beginning to relish the thought of attending a Jane and Jane party. Almost.

We could see Jane’s house before we even neared Southgate. Every light inside had been turned on, and then some. White paper lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, strung out between the old Jacaranda trees. The house was so bright I bet you could probably see it from outer space. Along with the Great Wall and Jane Mutton’s humongous ass.

“Very nice,” said Marianne. “Jane’s gone all out. I hope there’s a chocolate fountain.”

“Well, she has to doesn’t she?” replied Lexi. “I’ve heard the rumour that this could be her last chance to impress Blonde Number One. Apparently Mutton’s
that
close to being ditched.”

“Where’d you hear that from?” I asked.

“Oh, from Charlotte Brosnan or one of those girls, I think. Who heard it off someone else who apparently heard it from Jane Ayrehead herself.”

“Oh really? How reputable,” I said sarcastically.

Lexi shrugged. “Yeah, I’m not really listening to the rumour mill at the moment. I mean, after hearing from Maggy Boyle that a knife-wielding gang robbed Neil Fernandes’ home, tied him to a chair and cut off his hair, I’ve kinda lost my faith in it a little…”

At the mention of Neil’s name Marianne giggled and absentmindedly hid her smile behind the Chanel gift voucher
she was carrying. I grimaced and stared straight ahead.

For once we were dressed practically for the weather. The first signs of a sticky summer were coming through. When I brushed against Lexi, she was warm.

I remembered how in the winter we would still go to parties in little tops and dresses, our breath hanging in the air. We would walk to where we needed to be with blankets and big jackets, and then hide them in bushes before making our grand entrance. So that it seemed we never got cold; so it seemed we were invincible.

Lexi was wearing a spaghetti-strap top and jeans. A new pair of black earrings she made last weekend brushed against the tops of her shoulders. My casual chick, bohemian baby. She was coughing and said she didn’t feel well, but I reminded her it had never stopped her from partying in the past.

Marianne on the other hand was wearing … well, an outfit that seemed to be wearing her. I wondered what her teachers would think of this other Marianne. Not the one who always handed in her assignments on time, but the one in a tight red, blue and white party dress with red footless tights and the tallest purple heels you’ve ever seen.

I was the only one of us wearing a strapless top. Teamed with a pencil skirt. Only because Lexi said it made me look super sleek. It wasn’t like it was slutty or anything—the skirt went past my knees.

“Do you think it’s going to rain tonight?” asked Lexi and she sneezed.

“That’ll totally bitch the party,” I replied.

“Yeah,” said Marianne, sounding thrilled. “That’ll bitch it.”

There were a few people already mingling in the foyer in front of the marble double-staircase. Lexi and Marianne recognised a group of girls from their Art class, who were sharing something blue that I knew wasn’t cordial. They wandered over, leaving me to carry the giant tin of fruit salad. Marianne said we should bring something to be polite.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. This was the first time I’d been to Jane Mutton’s house. Her parents didn’t believe in parties. I guess that’s why she was holding one while they were conveniently away.

The Muttons had moved to East Rivermoor five years ago, after they struck it big in the Powerball. My mother calls them
nouveau riche.
They definitely still had more money than taste. There was heaps of granny material and gold urns filled with fake fruit. I thought of my mother’s chic white Barcelona chairs and natural linen throws. The Muttons, I guess, decorated their house according to how they thought rich people should.

I turned and bumped right into Jane Mutton, who was wearing the most hideous pink satin dress.

“Hi Jane. Here, this is for you.” I shoved the tin of fruit salad at her.

“Uh, thanks,” she said. She looked nervous.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “You are the hostess.
So don’t look so glum.
Smile.”

Jane didn’t look like she was going to smile anytime soon.

“Let’s go talk somewhere private,” she said, turning around. I followed after her.

In the kitchen, Jane dropped the tin of fruit salad on the bench top and crossed her arms. I looked around the kitchen. It was even more OTT than the front of the house: there was even a freakin’ chandelier hanging off the ceiling.

“What have you heard?” Jane blurted out.

“Hey, calm down,” I said. “I haven’t heard anything.”

I opened one of the drawers and rattled the contents, searching for a can opener.

“Cut the crap, Boans,” said Jane. “I know you and your friends are secretly laughing behind my back. Now tell me or I am going to kick you out of my party.”

I didn’t want to be kicked out of this party. I mean, I had taken over two hours to get ready and I wanted at least half the guests to see my outfit before I left.

“Fine. I know all about you and Jane Ayres,” I lied, remembering what Lexi had said earlier. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Crap,” replied Jane and her shoulders dropped. “So it is true? Janey’s going to dump me for Ellanoir Dashwood.”

WTF?
Ellanoir Dashwood?
Our Ella? What was this crazy chick going on about?

“Look, I know you and I are far from best friends,” said Jane, “but we both know we need to do something about this.
You have to keep Ellanoir in your group!”

Jane’s cheeks turned an even more horrible shade of pink than her dress. It took me a while to register the fact that she was asking me for help.

“If Ella defects to Janey … you know what will happen to me. Please Eliza. Who can I be friends with if she ditches me? I’m going to be a complete outcast for the rest of the year and I can’t … I can’t bear that thought.”

“Well maybe you should have tried a bit harder,” I found myself blurting out. “Look at your hair. I can see a full inch of brunette root.”

I finally found a can opener and I started slicing open the tin.

“But I am,” said Jane pathetically, touching the top of her head. “I’m trying hard.”

You know, I kinda felt sorry for Jane at that point. I would have given her a hug if we hadn’t been staunch enemies. I thought of all the mean and petty things she had done to me over the years, like when she whacked that blue slushie out of my hand and onto my brand new Prada dress. I forced myself not to show any sympathy. On the outside, anyway.

“There’s nothing I can do. Sorry,” I replied.

I dumped the contents of the can into the punch bowl. I cracked open a bottle of vodka sitting on the bench and poured the whole lot in. Then I walked off. Ella had some explaining to do.

“You have to do something, Boans!” yelled Jane behind
me. “Even if you don’t care about me, I know you care about your little group! What will people think if someone you’ve chosen walks out on you?”

Marianne and Lexi were still talking to the Art girls in the foyer. I marched up to them, but someone got there first.

It was Ellanoir Margaret Dashwood, making her grand entrance through the front door.

Average Ella, with average brown hair, average height, and average looks, was wearing the tiniest black dress I had ever seen. I mean, the word
tiny
did no justice to this scrap of material. Ella’s hair was no longer average. In fact, it wasn’t even brunette. It was platinum blonde.

Everyone went silent. I stared at her in disbelief. Ella smiled coyly back under the slick curtain of her hair. It was moments too late before I realised who she was flanked by. Jane Ayres stared at me with the triumph of a birthday girl who had received her best gift ever.

“Hi Lizzie,” said Ella.

“Hi Ella,” I said back. “Will you folks please excuse us? We have a few things to talk about.”

I shot Jane Ayres a dazzling smile and grabbed Ella’s arm, making sure I twisted it real hard. Then I dragged her off.

“Let go of me!” protested Ella.

“Scream and you’ll cause a scene,” I said through clenched teeth. “Is that the look you want to be debuting tonight?”

Ella shut up immediately. I pulled her into the dining room and slammed the doors shut.

“What the hell do you want from me, Eliza?”

I had underestimated Ellanoir Dashwood. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Marianne had been right after all.

“Um, well—maybe to act like a friend?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re not sorry, Ella,” I said to her calmly. “You’re just an ungrateful little skank. After I got sucked into being your friend and I introduced you to my nice friends, getting them all to accept you—this is how you repay me?”

“Hang on,” said Ella, all of a sudden. “Introduced me to your
nice
friends? For your information, Eliza, don’t you think I’m capable of making my own friends? And honey, you obviously don’t hear much of your own publicity, ’cos from what I’ve heard—you aren’t that
nice
a bunch of girls.”

I lunged at Ella and I tried to grab her. And trust me, I didn’t care what I grabbed; I just really, really wanted to hurt her. I swore if my fingers closed around her neck, I would have strangled her.

Ella screamed and scratched at me with her newly painted black fingernails, but I managed to take hold of her wrists.

“What did you do to get to Jane Ayres? And don’t try to deny it. As if she would suddenly decide to be friends with someone like you! I saw you talking to her on Friday. Tell me what you did!”

“Okay, okay,” yelped Ella. “Let go of me first.”

“You promise? Don’t screw around with me!”

“Yes!”

I let go of Ella. I realised I’d gripped her so hard my own hands had turned red.

Ella brushed the hair off her face and adjusted the bottom of her tiny dress.

“I told her that it was us who attacked Neil’s house, okay?”

“
What?
Okay, firstly, don’t ever use the word
us
again. You are no longer part of
us
and secondly—do you know what will happen if she tells Hollerings we broke the curfew? They take the whole ‘curfew’ thing seriously, I mean, ever since Frank Bruno—”

“No, she won’t,” said Ella in a quiet voice. “She said she’d keep it to herself. She’s not the monster you make her out to be. Have you ever considered that it might be you who are the monsters?”

Ella looked down at her wrists with the outlines of my fingers still on them. I didn’t realise how hard I grabbed her. I covered my mouth with my hand.

“For your information, Jane was impressed that for once someone was honest with her and told her the real story behind the rubbish rumours that go around this school. Maybe she saw that as a great quality to have in a friend. It’s not my fault she thinks I’m better than fat Jane Mutton. I reckon she thinks that I’m game, like you all are.”

I stared at Ella. At her little black dress and her six inch black stilettos and her fake blonde hair.

“Ella,” I said slowly. “For your information, I don’t think Jane Ayres thinks that you’re ‘game’ or have any redeeming qualities of a great friend. Jane Ayres is just impressed she now has a better spy and an even more desperate bitch to do her dirty work. So congratulations to her and good luck to you, ’cos you’ll need it!”

I let myself out. Behind me Ella sulked down into one of the ugly gold dining chairs.

“Lizzie!” Lexi raced up to me with Marianne following behind. “What are you doing with Ella? And what did Ella do with her hair?”

“You have
no
idea. But first I’ve got to find Jane Mutton—”

“Well, hello ladies.”

Daniel Smalls and Gauntly had arrived.

Marianne crossed her arms. Lexi crossed her arms. I crossed my arms.

Smalls was wearing a tartan shirt tucked into his pants. His stomach looked like a whale stuffed into a set of bagpipes. Gauntly was dressed like he was going to his own funeral.

“My, my, Jones, you look all right tonight,” said Gauntly, eying Marianne. “Don’t you look something fine, done all up like a Union Jack?”

“Shut up,” replied Marianne, giving him a fierce look. “If I want fashion advice from someone who looks like they’ve
just crawled out of a coffin, I’ll ask. And I didn’t.”

“Oooh!” Smalls snarled and he grinned at Gauntly. Gauntly grinned at Marianne.

“So, Jones, what do you drink?” he said.

“Cranberry and soda.”

“Can I get you a drink then?”

“Yes,” replied Marianne, rolling her eyes. “I am, like, so parched.”

Gauntly stuck out his arm. Marianne wrapped her arm around it and they walked off.

“What the—?” I stared at Lexi. Lexi gave me a “don’t ask me” look back.

“What are you staring at?” I shouted at Smalls. He quickly retreated.

“Unbelievable,” I said. “Can things
get
any more weird?”

Lexi sneezed. “I don’t feel so good.”

I pressed my palm onto her forehead. It felt warm.

“Go get yourself something to drink,” I told her.

I grabbed one of the Art girls that Lexi and Marianne had been talking to earlier.

“Hey, er, whatever your name is, can you take Lexi out to the kitchen and get her a drink? Thanks.”

I watched her take Lexi away.

I shouldn’t have let her go.

“Marianne?”

I tapped her on the shoulder.

She was sitting outside on the porch steps with Gauntly, watching the fairy lights.
How romantic.
It took me a while to find where she had disappeared to in such a spectacular fashion. She appeared to be having a good time, but not only that, she was laughing and
leaning on Gauntly’s arm.