Ocean Pearl (5 page)

There was still a heap to organise but it looked ninety-nine
per cent definite that Micki was going to move in
with us. I was feeling proud of myself too 'cause it was
my suggestion. Micki didn't know that though.

About six weeks ago, Dad got one of those late-night
calls.

Before I met Micki I used to think that Davo only
telephoned late at night because he knew my mum
would be at work. I'd also thought that he was calling
to invite my dad to watch Micki surf in some contest.

Yeah, I'd love to, Davo
, I'd imagine Dad saying.
Micki's
such an awesome surfer, much better than Kia. I'll come up
tomorrow morning. Great! Can't wait.

A few minutes later I'd hear the squeak of the
bedroom drawers opening, the zipper of Dad's bag and
I'd know that he'd started to pack and would be waiting
to leave the second Mum got back from night duty.

My hands would twist the sheets around and
around my wrists till they were so tight my fingers
would begin to tingle.

'I hate Micki Elvich,' I'd whisper. Sometimes I'd add,
'And I hate my father too.'

These days when the phone rang late at night, I'd
tiptoe down the hall and listen to what Dad was saying.
I'd catch words like 'That's not good,' 'Oh dear' and
'Micki, you shouldn't have to put up with that.'

It was Micki he'd be talking to. It always had been.
Never Davo. I felt so ashamed. A normal girl would
never think like that.

That night six weeks ago, I heard Dad's mobile ring
and ring and ring. This time I did something different. I
got up, marched down the hall and stood right in the
doorway of my parents' room.

Dad was leaning against the wall and staring out the
window, a frown almost sinking through his face. On
the bed lay Dad's phone, still ringing and flashing red.

'Answer it!' I grabbed it and held it in Dad's face.
'Answer it!'

Dad pushed my hand away.

'But isn't it . . .?'

'No.' He sighed. 'She's at school camp.'

It was only then that I noticed the name 'Davo' lit up
on the screen. 'Shouldn't you still . . . answer it?'

Dad didn't move. He just seemed to sink into the
wall a little more.

'Dad, I know about Davo.'

Silence. Just a tiny, tiny nod from him.

I went and sat on the end of their bed but still Dad
didn't move from the window.

'Dad?' I said a bit louder. 'What exactly happens
with Davo? Micki didn't really tell me. She just said he
was a drug addict.'

Dad began to walk towards me, his arms open.

'Kia.' He sat down on the bed and held me tight.
'Just because you're a grown-up and a parent doesn't
mean you're perfect and get it right.'

'But what does Davo do? I don't understand.'

Dad began to talk. But he was holding back; I could
tell by the way he kept stopping in the middle of
sentences. He didn't tell me any bad stories. Mostly just
stuff about Micki's home life and how tough it was for
her. He explained that I had to think of Davo as being
sick and not being able to do normal things dads
usually did.

In my opinion, Micki did heaps more than just dad
stuff. She did dad and mum stuff. Everything! The
cooking, cleaning, laundry, shopping. I hadn't even
touched a lawn mower, yet according to Dad, Micki
mowed the grass outside the front of their house every
weekend.

'Well, maybe if she stopped doing it then Davo
would have to!'

Dad didn't answer. His eyebrows said it all as they
stretched towards the ceiling.

'What? Are you saying it's okay that Micki mows the
grass and does basically everything?'

'No, I'm not,' he said and sighed.

'Well, you don't seem to be – to be angry about it.'
Dad was hardly moving. His voice was soft, his face
was blank. I wanted him to be shouting and yelling
'cause that's what I wanted to do. That's what he
should've done with me. 'I mean, why, Dad? Why is
he even still your friend?'

'Because he is and because he needs me.'

'Micki needs you!'

'And I'm always there for her!'

'Obviously Davo too.'

'It's not that simple, Kia,' Dad told me. 'Sometimes
people do things that aren't good for them.'

He stopped but I knew what he was trying to say. I
wasn't a complete idiot. But I wasn't like Davo. I was
nothing like him and I would show Dad that.

'I just don't think it's fair for Micki.' I shrugged.
'That's all I'm trying to say.'

'It's not fair,' Dad said. 'It's very, very unfair. But the
reason Micki does things like mow the lawn is because
she wants them to at least look like a normal, regular
family.'

'They are
not
a normal, regular family.'

'I know that, Kia. But try and imagine you didn't
have Mum and Charlie and I was like Davo. Hey? No
one to make your lunch; no one to drive you to surf
contests; too embarrassed to have any friends over –
what would you be like? What would you do?'

'If you were like Davo I'd force you to get better!' I
yelled. 'If you were taking drugs, I'd make it so difficult
for you that – that you'd just have to quit. I wouldn't do
any of those chores. I wouldn't go to school. Stuff the
lawn! I'd . . . I'd . . .'

Dad wrapped his arms around me. 'How can Micki
stand to live with him?' I continued. It was almost too
much, Dad holding me. Was it because I was angry?
Was it because Dad thought my 'problem' made
me like Davo? All I knew was that I couldn't sit still. I
struggled out of his embrace and got up. 'She must
hate him. Hate him! I know I would.'

'He's her father, Kia. She loves him.'

'She's too nice, that's Micki's problem.' And that's
when I said, 'She should come and live with us.'

Dad grabbed for my hand as I paced around his bed.
'Do you really mean that?'

'Yes, I do! The sooner the better.'

'That's very generous of you, Kia.' Dad smiled. 'I'm
very proud of you.'

'Really?'

Coming up with the idea of Micki moving in wasn't
the only reason I felt proud that night or proud still,
sitting here having breakfast with Dad and Micki six
weeks later.

After Dad and I'd finished talking, I kissed him
goodnight, went back to my room, got straight into bed
and fell asleep. Eventually.

My mind was rushing around and there were so
many things I felt angry about but they were whizzing
through my head too fast to catch and see them. But
not once did I lie there digging my nails into my wrists
while bad thoughts of what Dad really thought of me
tricked and teased my brain. I didn't spend hours
talking myself out of opening my toiletry bag to use the
scissors so the bad thoughts would go away. No. Not
me. I simply fell asleep like a normal, regular person.

Each time my foot hit the ground my heart went thump
in time. My back was so straight I felt centimetres
taller. My eyes burned as I kept them focused ahead,
although I really wanted to glance around to see who
was watching us – because the Starfish Sisters were
heading down to the beach, boards under our arms
and wetsuits on.

The little grommets didn't notice us but they
weren't the audience I was interested in. Two of the
hottest guys from year eleven just about tripped over
their leg ropes as we walked past them – or rather, as
Ace walked past them in a wettie so tight she may as
well have been naked.

'Hey, Kia!' The uglier one (if you had to pick) waved
at me. 'Good luck at camp.'

I smiled back, careful not to open my mouth too
much in case my heart shot out of it. It was the first time
that guy had ever acknowledged my existence. And he
knew my name! And he knew I was going to camp!

Georgie gave me a wink. 'Close your mouth, Kia!'

'But did you hear that, Georgie?'

Thousands of times I had walked this path to the
surf. Some days I'd be nervous, like if I was on my way
to a contest. Other times I'd be peaking 'cause the
waves were pumping. But never, ever had I felt as
awesome as I did today.

Just as predicted, the swell had picked up overnight.
The ocean was a steely blue colour that made me shiver
just looking at it. Waves crashed and swallowed the
rails of the sea pool, churning it up into a washing
machine.

'This is our break,' I announced on behalf of me and
Georgie. 'Good, eh?'

'Pumping,' Micki said. 'Not crowded either.'

'So are we meeting this photographer first?' Ace
asked. 'Or going for a surf?'

'Hey, I reckon that's him, over there.' Micki pointed
to a guy sitting on the fence that lined the carpark.

'Go on, Kia.' Ace's fist pushed against my back.
'You're the contact. You arranged it. Up you go.'

'I'll go with you,' Georgie offered.

'No need to,' Micki said. 'He's seen us.'

Ace groaned. I know it was her even though she
looked at me and smiled.

'Hey, which one of you's Kia? I know it's not you,'
he said, laughing and pointing to Ace. 'I know who
you are.'

'Oh?' Ace stepped forward and shook his hand.
'Courtney McFarlane. Lovely to meet you.'

'I didn't know you were going to be here at Lennox
with the others.'

Ace laughed. Well, sort of laughed, then pushed me
forwards. 'This is Kia.'

'Hey Kia, I'm Kent Doherty,' he said, shaking my hand
and really grinning. 'Great to meet you. Now, what I had
in mind was a shot of you girls holding your boards and
looking out to sea with an expression on your face that
says something like, "My dream is out there,"' he told us.
'I'm thinking the caption's going to read something like
"Is this the Dream Tour of tomorrow?"'

I looked at Georgie. 'Wow!' we said together.

The Dream Tour was the ultimate international
circuit that only seventeen women could qualify for.

'Now, let me work this out,' Kent said and chuckled.
'You must be Georgie Elwood Ross because you,' he
said, turning to Micki, 'you must be Micki, the baby of
the Oz training team. Am I right?'

'Yep.'

'I heard you were coming down to Lennox,' he said
to Micki. 'You're from up the Sunshine Coast, aren't
you?' As he fiddled with the buttons on the camera he
said, 'They say you girls are really going to be the ones
to watch in the next few years.'

Micki was blushing, which didn't make me feel like
such a dork. I could feel my cheeks burning up, which
must've been making me look pathetic. I was a sponsored
surfer now and I had to look it too.

Ace was right at home. Her chest was sticking out,
one hand was on her hip and she looked like she was
sucking in her cheeks and raising an eyebrow. I
couldn't possibly do all of that at once.

Georgie seemed comfortable. She was chatting to Kent
about the camera and how it worked and stuff. But then
Georgie would be comfortable around an axe murderer.

'Just be yourself.' That's what the photographer who
did the Seahorse Girl shoot had told me. It helped too.
By the end I was actually having heaps of fun.

Getting your photo taken while surfing was easy,
'cause you're thinking about the next wave and the
camera's not right in your face. Out of the surf was
harder. Much harder.

I said that to Georgie once and she answered, 'You'd
better get used to it, Kia.'

I felt bad after that 'cause I wasn't saying it to make
myself look good in front of her. I didn't understand
why I had a sponsor and Georgie didn't. It made no
sense. She was the best surfer out of all of us. One day
Georgie really could be on the Dream Tour.

One night when I was chatting to Ace on msn, the
topic of why Georgie didn't have a sponsor came up. I
didn't start it. How could I, when Dad kept banging on
and on about being sensitive towards Georgie and
Micki 'cause they didn't have sponsors and I did?

It was Ace who brought it up. She asked me if
Georgie'd had any bites from sponsors.

I answered truthfully and said no.

Ace swore me to secrecy but she thought that
although Georgie was the best surfer, she probably
wasn't quite what surf companies were after.

I'd asked Ace, 'What exactly does that mean?'

Ace answered, 'What I'm trying to say nicely, Kia, is
that Georgie probably doesn't take such a good photo.
Get it?'

'Okay, ladies,' Kent said, picking up the camera with
a bit of a grunt and directing us over to the sand. 'We'll
start with a few shots down by the water.'

'Do you want us to take our boards?' Georgie asked.

'Definitely,' Kent replied. 'We'll stagger your
heights, from shortest to tallest.'

'I'm still taller than you!' I reminded Micki.

'Just,' she said and laughed.

'Georgie, you're the tallest,' Kent said, 'so we'll start –'

Ace corrected him: 'Kent, I'm taller than Georgie.'

'Yes, but darl this is just a shot of the other three. The
piece is about the Australian Junior Team Training
Camp. You've got the day off.'

'Oh, yeah.' Ace folded her arms. 'I – I knew that.
Sorry. I – I was thinking . . . um . . .'

'No sweat, Courtney,' Kent replied, 'but I was
thinking in one of the shots it'd be really cute if Micki
wore your Kelly Slater hat.'

The girls knew I was faking when I said I had a
headache and was going back to the house. Kia shot me
a total greasy like I'd just ruined the whole weekend. As
if I'd expect Kia to sit around for an hour while I had my
photo taken.

Anyway, it was better for me if they thought I was
faking a headache and having a sulk rather than
finding out the real reason, which was Operation Get
My Balding, Hatless Head Out of Sight.

I handled it okay when Kent so kindly reminded me
that this was a story about the Australian Junior Team
Training Camp, which I was fully aware I was not a part
of. I didn't like the way he called me 'darl' but then
I didn't want to be in his stupid photo. Georgie knew
that.

Lucky I'm a quick thinker, 'cause when he said that
bit about Micki wearing my hat, I nearly began to
hyperventilate. So far, I had got through the weekend
without having to take my hat off once.

Height, height, height
, my head started chanting.
Find
the highest point and then you'll be safe
. Gee, I'd be good in
a tsunami.

So, casually, I strolled up the sandhill and sat there.

My quick thinking had also come in handy last night
when I had the brainwave to tell the girls what
Megan'd said about starfish having no brains. Kia
completely forgot about checking out the Kelly Slater
signature on my hat after that. But then it did kind of
ruin the atmosphere and boy, did I cop an earful from
Georgie this morning.

From the sandhill I watched – along with a snooping
little crowd that was gathering on the beach – as Kent
styled the girls in a line from shortest to tallest, on their
knees, arms around one another, in a circle facing
their boards, in a circle without their boards, blah blah
blah . . .

I'd almost drifted off with such unbelievable
boredom when I heard Kent call, 'Can we have the hat
now, please?'

'Sure,' I replied, sending it down the hill like a
frisbee.

'Gee thanks, Ace!' Kia shot me another greasy as she
jogged down the beach to retrieve it. 'We wouldn't
want you to move.'

But that was my cue to get the hell out of there and
back to Kia's bedroom. Time to unpack my second
favourite hat, the one with Jack Johnson's autograph.
Only then could I relax. Well, sort of.

Apart from Kia's mum, Bridget, whose snores occasionally
rumbled down the hallway, I was the only one
home. It was so nice to have the house to myself. It
meant I could have a good long look at how my scalp
was going and what my latest hair count was. Plus,
I needed to chuck and punch the pillows around Kia's
room to let off the steam that was sizzling inside of me.

Tomorrow I had to say goodbye to my Starfish
Sisters. The weekend wasn't turning out how I'd
hoped. I knew it was my fault but I just couldn't relax.
My jaw was sore from smiling too hard and too much
and my neck felt tight and stiff from keeping my head
still all the time.

I crawled into Kia's bed, half of me wishing I was
back home while the other half wanted to slap myself
across the face and go back to the beach.

It wasn't like I meant to. But I got bored lying on
Kia's bed waiting for the others to come back. I didn't
go looking for it. That'd be worse. I simply noticed
there was a lump in the bottom of Micki's sleeping bag
and I wanted to know what it was.

How was I meant to know it was going to be a
diary? It just looked like a notebook.

I didn't open it straightaway. It rested on my lap for
at least ten – well, two minutes. Then I figured,
We tell
each other our secrets, so what could be in here that I couldn't
read or that I wouldn't know anyway?
Let's face it, a
thirteen-year-old girl – well, at least one like Micki –
wouldn't get up to much.

I ran my thumb along the spine, then wedged it
inside a random page and opened Micki's diary. The
page was blank. So was the one before and the one
after.

Kia's bedroom door was slightly open. I was caught
between shutting it for safety or keeping it that way, so
I'd hear the girls when they got home.

Closing the door won.

I made the pillows all comfy, shook out the doona
and snuggled back into Kia's bed.

I kept flicking back through the pages until I found
some writing.

Friday 12 June, AFTER MIDNIGHT. AT KIA'S.

AAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I MADE IT!!!

Hello! It's been a while and you know why so we
don't need to go there.

'Who's she talking to?' I said out loud.

I'd never kept a diary. What was the point? It's not
like there'd be any shock value in it 'cause it was your
life. You'd know it all anyway!

To me it was one of those babyish, tweenie things to
do. Like 'Dear diary, had a fight with my mum today'
or 'Dear diary, I have a crush on this guy but I'm too
scared to say hi.'

Still, I had to remind myself that Micki was heaps
younger than us 'cause she was usually the most
mature.

This is already the best weekend eva EXCEPT it's
gonna be bad when we have to say goodbye to Ace.

The spit caught in my throat.

I want to write positive stuff like I did last time
at camp (well mostly) but I'm scared coz I know
there's gonna be other things on my mind and they're
gonna make me sad. But honestly I couldn't be any
sadder than I was back home, so what's the problem,
eh???

Dad and I had a BIIIG talk on thurzday night and
it's kinda freaked me out. I don't wanna tell u all about
it now coz I still can't figure it out in my head let
alone write it down. I didn't see it coming and I don't
know if thatz whatz freaking me out the most??
Coz shouldn't I be freaked out about leaving Dad and
moving in to Kia's?

I read that line again.

Micki was moving in with Kia? Neither of them had
said anything.

I feel bad. I feel weird. I feel scared. I feel
happy. I feel relieved to be getting away from Dad
but then that makes me feel guilty and then it
starts all over again.

Kia's really keen!! I feel so close to Kia. Probably
because she knows my stuff. Itz probably been the
biggest and scariest thing I've eva done telling Kia
about Dad. We haven't really talked much about it. But
I feel like now I'm ready to tell her stuff. Especially
about Mum and what really happened. I feel
awkward her not knowing the truth about that. Lies
are bad. I hate them.

Georgie's chuckles bounced up the stairs, followed by
Kia's 'Shhhh, Mum's asleep.'

Quickly, I slipped the diary inside Micki's sleeping
bag, hopped back into bed and pushed the pillow over
my face. People with headaches hate the light.

'Ace is asleep,' I heard Micki whisper.

'I'll just get my wallet and a jumper,' Georgie said.
'I am so hanging for hot chips from Pete's.'

'Aaarrrhhhhh.' I wiggled a bit and began to stretch.
I was starving. 'You're back,' I mumbled, lifting the
pillow off my face. 'What's the time?'

'Time for food,' Georgie replied, slipping on her
jumper. 'We thought we'd go down to Pete's milk bar
and get some hot chips.'

'Where's Kia?' I yawned.

'Having a hot shower,' answered Micki.

'It got freezing down there,' Georgie said. 'Kent had
us posing for over an hour.'

Micki groaned. 'It was embarrassing.'

I watched Micki fold up her sleeping bag. She didn't
hesitate. She didn't pull a face. Everything seemed to
be fine.

'You're a neat freak, Micki,' Georgie said. 'I don't
know why you roll up your sleeping bag every day.
You're going to be in it in a few hours.'

I knew why.

'So your head's okay?' Georgie asked me, smirking at
her clever double meaning. 'Do you feel all better now?'

'Yep. But is Kia pissed off with me?'

'She's over it. Kent was the one who said you
couldn't be in the photos.'

'What was that about?' Micki said. 'That was harsh.
I felt bad really bad for you, Ace.'

'Well . . .' I shrugged a bit. 'That's the way it is, I s'pose.'

'Your lips look blue,' Georgie said to Micki. 'You
should have a hot shower too.'

'My lips always go blue.'

'Yeah, but you don't want to get sick.'

'Have we got time?'

'Of course we do,' I answered instead of Georgie.
'It's not like we're going anywhere.'

'We're going to Pete's!' Georgie got down and
started doing sit-ups. 'This is what I call pre-hot-chip-pig-out training.'

'Go on. Go and have a shower, Micki,' I said.

A moment on my own with Georgie was what I
craved. I hadn't had enough of them – well, enough
good moments that didn't include her shouting at me.
I adored Micki and Kia but it was different with
Georgie. We had a soul connection. We could sense
what each other was feeling. I had told her all my
secrets. Everything. Because after my mum, she was
the person I could trust most in the world.

I got on the floor and started crunching with her.
The minute Micki was gone, I could tell her about what
I'd read.

'Four – five – six,' Georgie and I panted, as Micki got
her stuff together. 'Seven – eight – nine,' as Micki
walked to the door. 'Eleven – twelve – thirteen,' as she
closed the door behind her.

I stopped and grabbed Georgie's arm. 'What?' she
said. Up down, up down, she kept going.

'Stop!' I whispered. 'I have to tell you something.'

'What?'

'Did you know that Micki is going to live with Kia?'

'What?' Georgie froze in the upright position.

'Micki is moving in here. To Kia's.'

'To live?'

'Yes!' I nodded. 'So, Kia hasn't said anything to you?'

'No.' Georgie frowned. 'How do you know?'

I wasn't ready to confess. 'There's some big secret
about Micki's mum too.'

'But she's dead. Isn't she?'

'Who knows?' I hissed. 'Should we ask Kia?'

'Yeah, but when are we going to get the chance?'

'That's what I was thinking too,' I answered.

'Maybe Micki's dad's sick again?'

'You're going to have to grill Kia at camp, 'cause
we're not going to have the opportunity to do it here.'

'But I asked Micki if her dad was better and she said
he was. Hmm.' Suddenly Georgie's hands flew to her
mouth. 'This morning! Hey, when we came down to
brekkie did you notice how everyone stopped talking?
It was like –'

I pushed my finger over Georgie's mouth and nodded
towards the door handle, which had started to turn.

In walked Kia, with dripping wet hair and still
wearing my Kelly Slater hat!

Where I lived, on the Gold Coast, we didn't have only
one hot chip shop, we had about ten million to choose
from. There were three filthy plastic tables lined up
outside Pete's milk bar and inside, the walls were
painted a disgusting, sickly orange colour that made
me feel like I'd been on a tanning bed too long.

I'd been thinking the best thing about coming to
Pete's was that it would be good for bringing on a quick
attack of anorexia. Not for Georgie. She was ordering a
large hot chips with chicken salt and tomato sauce.

'Are we sharing them?' I asked Georgie, trying not to
make skin contact with the counter.

'Nah, they're for me.'

'I'll have . . .' The hormone disaster behind the
counter was waiting to take my order. 'Umm . . .?'

What is it about the smell of chips that makes you
have to have them? Even if they're being cooked by a
guy who looks like he hasn't showered since he was
eleven?

'Look, I'll order just a small serve of hot chips,' I told
him. 'Not too much salt.'

When Tim Parker and I were going out I would
never eat hot chips – at least, not in front of him. That'd
be the perfect excuse for him to look me up and down
and say, 'Do you really think that's a good idea, Ace?'

Jules was so different. I'd pigged out on ice-cream, a
hamburger, chips and two doughnuts – all in front of
him and all in the one weekend. Jules never said a
thing. He didn't even notice.

I'm not saying it'd be okay with him if I got fat 'cause
it wouldn't. He's a sportsman and he likes his girlfriends
to be slim. He said to me once, 'There's nothing
sexier than a girl who's fit and strong.'

'I still can't believe what Megan said,' Kia grunted
through a mouthful.

'I just can't picture her in the bungalow with us,'
added Micki. 'It's going to be so strange this time.'

The four of us sighed. My heart felt like it was
sliding down my jumper.

'I mean, what are we going to talk to her about?'
Micki said.

'How can we talk?' Kia added. 'Starfish have no
brains, remember?'

'So you're saying we're not going to speak to Megan
for nearly two whole weeks?' Georgie was pretending
to smoke a chip. 'Right. That'll make things interesting.'

'I thought you hated her,' Kia said.

'I don't hate her,' she answered. 'I just don't like her.'

'She's going to be your main competition, Georgie,' I
told her.

'Suits me.'

'They won't pick more than two big-wave surfers
for the team, will they?' Micki asked.

'Probably not,' Georgie answered. 'That's why I'm
going to smash her.' Georgie flattened a chip with her
fist. 'I'm going to charge her on every wave.'

'Go Georgie!' I smiled even though my heart hurt as
much as Georgie's chip probably did.

'She took your place, Ace. I'm not going to let her
forget it.'

'Thanks, Georgie.' We squeezed hands and then my
tears started. I hadn't expected them. But then, to be
honest, they'd just been hiding, waiting at the back of
my eyelids for any opportunity.

'I wish I was going. You just don't know how much I
wish it,' I said, sobbing. 'And I feel like I've been a total
bitch this weekend but I haven't meant to. I just feel
like such a loser. I'm terrified I'm going to lose my OP
sponsorship. It's going to really suck if that happens.
But –' I sniffed, 'but, I've got all of you, my Starfish
Sisters. And Jules, I've got Jules. You four are the most
important things. I can get through anything if I have
you guys. I don't care if I – if I never see my face in
another magazine.'