Love-shy (27 page)

‘I said I'll wait.'

‘No,' said Nick. ‘That wasn't what you said.'

His face was suddenly cold and distant. I'd never seen him look that way before. He didn't look frightened or weak or anxious. He looked furious.

‘You said you'd never throw stones at me.'

Uh-oh.

‘How did you know that was what I was talking about when I said the water was cold? How did you know that boys threw stones at me at camp?
How did you know?
'

I spread my hands. ‘Nick, I'm sorry. I was going to tell you.'

‘
How did you know?
'

‘The love-shy forum,' I said. ‘That's how I found you. You were reading
loveshyforum.com
in the library and then I found your blog and wanted to find out who you were, so I talked to every boy in our year level. For a while I thought it was Hamish, but then I realised it was you.'

Nick blinked. ‘In the library?' he said. ‘That was
weeks
ago. You've been stalking me since then?'

‘Not
stalking
. Observing. Understanding. Sympathising.'

‘I don't need your sympathy.'

‘Empathy, then,' I said. ‘Look, it's no big deal. But I
do
know stuff about you. I
do
know you. Because I've read what you said on your blog.'

‘I can't believe you'd violate my privacy like that! It's like reading my
diary
.'

‘It's a
website
. A
public
website. When you post stuff on a public website, it's public. I never violated your privacy.'

‘My posts are anonymous,' said Nick. ‘When you crossed that line into real life,
that
's when you violated my privacy.'

‘Well, I'm sorry,' I said. ‘And I'm sorry I tried to kiss you.'

I wasn't sorry I'd kissed him. I was sorry he hadn't kissed me back. This was all going wrong. Nick's face flickered from cold to hurt and landed on cruel.

‘As if I care,' he said. ‘And anyway, I can't believe you'd ever think I'd go for you anyway. You're so not my type. You have short hair that makes you look like a boy and you're not even pretty.'

‘Hey,' I said. ‘Back off. I wasn't trying to upset you, okay?'

‘No,' said Nick. ‘It's not okay. And where do you get off being so all-knowing about people and relationships? You've never had one either. I bet you've never kissed anyone yourself until now.'

I glared down at a squashed cigarette butt on the footpath, feeling tears prick at my eyes.

‘You act like you're so much better than me,' he continued. ‘Like I'm this freakish charity case and you're my therapist, like you've got all the answers. Like you're perfectly adjusted and happy in your life.'

‘I
am
happy,' I said. ‘My life is just fine, thank you.'

Nick had come over all nasty, red blotches standing out on his cheeks.

‘You're not happy,' he said. ‘You hide behind all the crap you do at school, the SRC and Debating and swimming and that stupid newspaper. You've got this crazy idea that having a good career is the only thing that matters. Well, it isn't. People matter, too.'

‘I know people matter,' I said. ‘I have people.'

‘Do you?'

‘Of course I do,' I said. ‘I have Dad, and Josh.'

‘
But you don't have any actual
friends
,' he said. ‘You spend your life running around being busy, to hide the fact that you are actually totally lonely. You don't let anyone in. You never admit you're wrong about
anything
. People look up to you, and you get invited to parties and you're reasonably popular. But that's not the same thing as having friends. You're just as bad as I am.'

I had no words to reply to him. I wanted to yell and scream and call him a lonely loser freak.

But I couldn't. Because I was a lonely loser freak as well.

Nick was right. I
was
just as bad as he was.

16

M
S ARMSTRONG ASKED ME TO
call her Janet. I didn't. I didn't call her anything. She sat behind her desk wearing an understanding and compassionate expression. But that was her job. She didn't really care.

‘We merely want to make sure you're not under too much pressure, Penny,' she said.

I didn't say anything. The third rule of interviewing also worked if you were the interviewee. Hopefully she'd chat for the whole half hour, and then I could escape.

‘Is everything all right at home?'

I managed a tiny nod.

‘Have you fought with any of your friends?'

I didn't have any friends. I'd had one, but then I tried to kiss him and ruined everything.

Ms Armstrong sighed and made a few notes on a piece of paper. ‘Penny,' she said, crinkling her brow. ‘I can see that you don't want to talk, which is highly unusual, knowing what I do about you. Your teachers say that you seem distracted during class, and they're concerned that you're struggling with the pressure of your extracurricular commitments. You've missed multiple meetings of the SRC and the
Gazette
, you're unresponsive in class, you haven't been to a band rehearsal in a fortnight, and there was that whole business where you were disqualified from the swimming carnival. If you're not willing to give me an explanation for your erratic behaviour . . . ' She paused to see if I did want to give her an explanation. I didn't.

‘Well, then you leave me no choice. I've spoken to your teachers about reducing your extracurricular load, and I'm afraid I'll have to tell them you won't be returning to the orchestra or the swim team. You may attend your Debating final tonight, but after that your team will need to find a replacement for you. As you've been elected to the SRC, we can't make you give that up, and Ms Tidy has requested you speak to her directly about whether or not you will continue working on the
Gazette
.'

Could she really do that? Make me give everything up?

‘Are you sure there's nothing you'd like to talk to me about?' asked Ms Armstrong.

I hated her for trying to blackmail me into talking about my feelings. Well, it wouldn't work. I stared stonily at the corner of her desk.

‘Then I think that's all for today,' she said, sliding her piece of paper into a manila folder. ‘Thank you, Penny.'

I made my way to my locker and stood frozen in front of it, staring at the lock.

‘Did you forget your combination?'

Rin had crept up beside me. She was wearing her hair down instead of in her usual pigtails, and it made her look older.

‘Penny? Are you okay?'

Why did everyone keep asking me that? ‘I'm fine,' I said. ‘Just busy.'

‘I brought you the latest
Battle Vixens
.' She produced a small book with a silver-haired girl bearing a sword on the cover.

‘I don't want it,' I said. ‘I haven't even read the other ones.'

Rin looked confused. ‘Oh, sorry, I thought you had. You said—'

‘I have to go.' I had the sudden overwhelming feeling that I was going to cry, and I couldn't. Not in front of Rin. She'd be all concerned, and that'd just make everything worse. Because I'd know she didn't mean it. I'd know she was only doing it so I'd invite her to the next party.

‘Do you want to come and sit with us at lunch today?' she asked.

‘No,' I said. ‘I don't want to sit with you at lunch today.

Just leave me alone.'

I turned and walked away, but not before I saw Rin's bottom lip tremble, and her eyes fill with tears. But it was better this way. Before I'd got involved with her and Nick, nothing had ever gone wrong. I was meant to be a loner.

I wagged Maths and sat by myself in the library, staring at the scratches on a desk that proclaimed that
DAMO LOVES PETE'S MUM and that KT IS HOTTT
. I tried not to think about love-shyness or friendship or stupid Ms Armstrong the guidance counsellor. When the lunch bell rang, and students started to file into the library, I tried to shrink into my chair. I knew everyone was looking at me. Judging me. I'd had enough.

I pushed my chair back, picked up my bag, and walked out of the library and straight out the front gate of the school. I didn't care if anyone saw, or if I got detention. I was going home.

I stayed on the couch in my pyjamas for the rest of the day. Dad came home just after five, but I didn't get up.

‘Penny?' he said. ‘Are you okay?'

I flipped a page of Truman Capote's
In Cold Blood
. ‘I'm not feeling well.'

‘Do you want anything? Ginger tea?'

‘I'm just really tired.'

‘Do you want me to stay home tonight? I have that Plumbers Association Gala Dinner thing, but I can cancel.'

I shook my head. ‘I'm okay.'

Dad nodded and wandered into his room. My phone chirped a message and I glared at it. Whoever it was, I wasn't interested.

Chirp, chirp.

Then it buzzed around on the coffee table with a call. I ignored it. It chirped again to indicate there was voicemail. I turned it off. The home phone rang.

Dad came out of his room, an indigo and silver tie loose around his neck, and picked up the phone.

‘Penny?' he said after a moment. ‘It's someone called Hugh. He wants to know when you're planning on turning up to your Debating final.'

Crap. I glanced at my watch. The debate started in half an hour. I could still make it.

I hauled myself off the couch and dashed to my bedroom, hunting around for some clean clothes, then gave up and pulled on the jeans and T-shirt I'd been wearing that morning.

‘Dad?' I yelled, trying to find a matching sock. ‘Can you please call me a cab?'

I slid into my seat at 5:59 with a sigh of relief. Hugh shot me a look with some very expressive eyebrows. Aylee Kim, our second speaker, glared at me.

‘Where
were
you?' she hissed, but then the adjudicator rang a bell and Hugh stood up to a polite smattering of applause.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,' he said. ‘Over the next ten minutes, I will demonstrate how foreign aid doesn't help the most vulnerable people in developing nations. Moreover, it actually causes harm.'

I looked down at the stack of empty note-cards in front of me. Luckily I was the best speaker in the Eastern Region – I'd have no trouble winging this one. I took a sip of water and picked up a pen, ready to take notes.

Maybe if I debated really well, Ms Armstrong wouldn't make me give up Debating. Maybe I could just decimate the opposition, prove how totally on-the-ball I was with everything, and it would all be right again. I could have my extracurricular activities back.

Otherwise what would I do all day? Where would I go at lunchtime? Sit with Rin? Not after the way I'd acted today. I'd be surprised if Rin ever spoke to me again.

Hugh was still talking, but I couldn't hear him anymore. All I could hear was Nick's voice, over and over again.

You're just as bad as I am.

But I was
involved
. I participated in school activities – I practically
ran
all the school activities. How would they put out the
Gazette
without me? Didn't they realise the Debating team wouldn't make any regional finals if I wasn't there? I mean, Hugh was a fine first speaker, but Aylee had a tendency of chewing her hair which totally put the judges off, and she wasn't particularly good at rebuttal. And who would play first oboe in the orchestra?

And sure, sometimes I might have been a little distant. But I was a
journalist
. We had to be objective. Nellie Bly had to be firm and hard-hitting just to get people to listen to her in the first place. There was no room in journalism for wishy-washy softness – we had to be ruthless and cutting-edge. Did Nellie Bly have heaps of friends? I didn't think so. She didn't get married until after her great journalistic adventures. She was happy being alone.