It's Not Me, It's You Read online

  Girl V the World: It’s Not Me, It’s You

  Thalia Kalkipsakis

  Hardie Grant Egmont

  Contents

  Title Page

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Copyright Page

  This is it. The Big Goodbye.

  We’re all standing on the nature strip: me, Mum, Dad, Lucy and her boyfriend, Josh. All of us are shifting from one foot to the other, feeling sad and sort of awkward and like no-one wants to be the first to say bye.

  Mum steps forward and circles her arms around Lucy, holding her tight. ‘Oh, sweetheart …’

  Lucy’s moving into a flat in the city with her friend Pia. It’s not far. Only six stops on the train, as she keeps telling Mum and Dad.

  When Lucy pulls away from Mum, she turns to me and smiles. ‘Bye, Erin,’ she says softly.

  Our eyes meet, and I suddenly feel a lump in my throat. ‘Bye, Luce.’ I want to say more, but what do you say to your sister when she moves out of home? So instead I mouth, Take me with you, which at least makes everyone laugh.

  ‘Call whenever you want, okay?’ says Lucy. ‘We’ll still talk as much as always, I promise.’

  ‘Yeah, okay,’ I mumble, wondering what it will be like at home from now on. Already it feels weird. Without Lucy, it’ll just be me stuck here with Mum and Dad. The balance is all wrong.

  Dad holds out his hand for Josh. ‘Take care of my little girl, won’t you?’

  ‘Yeah, thanks, mate.’ Josh claps Dad’s hands in both of his, then turns to me. ‘Catch you on the track?’

  I nod. ‘Ready when you are.’ Last year, Josh gave me his old Bionic Racer computer game. It’s nowhere near my favourite, but I’d never tell Josh that.

  Josh winks, and I even get a tiny twang about him. Considering how much time he spends here with Lucy, it’s almost like losing a big brother too.

  Lucy’s with Dad now, reaching her arms over his shoulders and squeezing tight. There’s a moment when neither of them moves. Then Lucy pulls away from Dad and climbs into Josh’s car.

  Just like that.

  Mum, Dad and I watch as the engine revs and the car accelerates down the street. For long seconds we just stand there, staring at the empty road. The sun’s still shining. A magpie warbles from a tree. Dad sighs, his shoulders sinking slowly.

  I know how he’s feeling. Being left behind sucks.

  ‘Well …’ Dad rubs his hands together and turns to Mum. ‘Time for a coffee?’

  She rubs the side of her cheek. ‘After I have a shower? I’m an absolute mess from the dust in that room.’

  ‘Honey, you look amazing. As always.’ Dad slips an arm around Mum’s waist, and I groan. Here we go again. Time to make a quick exit.

  I scuff my way towards the shade of the verandah, my Doc Marten boots undone, the laces trailing in the dust behind me.

  Mum calls out, ‘And take those boots off before you walk on my carpet!’

  ‘Yeah, yeah.’ I wave behind me and kick off my boots in the hallway. As if wearing street shoes inside is the end of the world. Someone should tell that woman about real issues, like global warming.

  There’s nothing on TV, so I decide to escape into my favourite game: Hero Quest. I need to make it to the next level.

  Before I make it to my room, though, I pause outside Lucy’s bedroom door. For once, it’s not shut tight. Just because I can, I push on the handle and walk in. I almost expect to find Lucy on the bed, looking up from her laptop.

  But the bed’s gone now. Afternoon sun from the window makes it warm and stuffy. The wardrobe door stands open, a single dress hanging inside. I catch a whiff of stale hairspray. It brings back a memory of lying on her bed, listening to music and laughing at Lucy’s wide-eyed face as she strokes mascara onto her lashes, telling her all over again that she looks better without that goop on. Even Josh thinks so.

  It’s strange being in here now. For a while I hang out, fingering the fallen tumble of novels on the bookcase. Soppy love stories. Boring romances.

  Lucy’s cool as far as big sisters go, but she has terrible taste in books. Last holidays I read one after she kept raving about it. By about page three the guy had already fallen madly in love with the main character. Like in two seconds flat. They didn’t even have time to get to know each other or talk about anything. I pretty much just skimmed after that.

  After I’ve finished checking out the books (nothing worth borrowing), I pull the dress out of the cupboard and hold it against my front. I’m more a boots-and-cargo-pants sort of person. I stopped wearing dresses in about grade six, when my boobs started to grow.

  Dresses are always tight up top, which makes my boobs look even bigger than they are. These days I wear loose tops or jumpers two sizes too big to make sure they’re not tight across my chest.

  This dress is no different from all the others — really tight around the chest. I roll it in a ball and chuck it on top of the bookcase.

  The room seems so big without Lucy’s stuff in here. Way bigger than mine. And it’s only as I open the window that I realise what it means to have Lucy gone. No-one to take over the bathroom. No-one to leave a handful of cornflake crumbs in the box and forget to add it to the shopping list. No more sister-who’s-always-first.

  From now on, I’m at the front of the line.

  Thirty seconds later I hold an ear against Mum’s bathroom door and knock. ‘Mum?’

  ‘Erin? Is that you?’ Her voice rises above the noise of the shower. ‘Just a minute, sweetheart.’

  The shower stops and I hear the hum of the fan. The door opens slightly and a cloud of steam floats out.

  ‘Can I move into Lucy’s room?’ I ask through the gap.

  ‘What? She only just moved out.’

  Mum is wrapped in white towels from head to knee. For a moment I stare. She seems almost younger, softer-looking. No shiny make-up or blow-dried hair.

  ‘Lucy might want to stay over sometime,’ Mum says.

  ‘She can stay in my room,’ I say. ‘So can I? Please?’

  Mum sighs. ‘All right. But give me a few days to clean it out.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m onto it. Thanks!’

  Before she can change her mind, I turn and dash into the kitchen, grabbing a big green garbage bag from the bottom drawer.

  Inside Lucy’s room I flap it open and chuck all the books inside. Then I pull the dress off the top of the bookcase and throw it on top.

  Right. Looking good. With my hands on my hips, I scan the rest of the stuff, getting a feel for the room. My room.

  I could almost start moving in my gear. But first, I decide that the bookcase is in the wrong place.

  It’s about waist-high, but too wide to carry. I try lifting one side.

  It’s heavy, but not too heavy to push along the carpet. I slide one end away from the wall, and something catches my eye. A square of shiny blue plastic, big enough to hold a twenty-cent coin. It’s lying on the floor as if it fell behind the bookcase and was forgotten.

  I pick it up and notice it’s torn open at one end.

  A strange feeling creeps inside me. I peer at the writing.

  Second Skin … Regular …

  The plastic crinkles in my hand like a lolly wrapper. But it isn’t a lolly. It smells wrong …

  That’s when it hits me. I’ve seen this kind of wrapper before: last year during sex ed in the gym when Miss Mills tore open one just like this, and blew up a condom like a balloon.

  I drop the wrapper and step back, wiping my fingers on my jeans. It can’t be.

/>   Except here it is, lying on the floor.

  A condom wrapper.

  In my sister’s bedroom.

  The first thing I do is wash my hands. Then I tiptoe back to my room and shut the door.

  I mustn’t be thinking straight because I sit at my desk and pull out my science quiz. As if on autopilot, I take out my notebook. Find a pen. Then I just sit there, staring at the worksheet. Not reading a word.

  I can’t stop thinking about the wrapper. It was empty, torn open.

  My eyes move over the stuff on my desk. Lucy’s been doing it with Josh? I can’t believe it. Why didn’t she tell me?

  For a moment, I think about grabbing the phone to call her. But she’d be at the flat by now, moving all her stuff. I stare out the window.

  All those times that Josh was here for Sunday night roast. All those hours they spent listening to music in Lucy’s room.

  ‘Listening’ to music.

  And I never even knew. Never guessed. It’s like my brain can’t quite process it all. I thought we shared stuff like this, Lucy and me. But she never said a word.

  A couple of knocks on my bedroom door make me jump. ‘Erin? Are you in there?’ The door opens and Mum’s face appears. ‘Here you are! I thought you might like some help cleaning out L— your new room.’

  ‘No!’ I squeak, feeling my cheeks flush. ‘I changed my mind. Decided to stay in my room. Happy right here. Not going anywhere.’

  Mum tilts her head, watching me closely, which for some reason makes it even worse. My whole face feels as if it’s turned into a red traffic light. ‘Are you all right?’ she asks.

  ‘Yeah, fine.’ I swallow and glance at my worksheet. ‘Better get my homework done.’

  Mum steps forwards and rests her palm on my fore-head. ‘Are you sure you’re all right? You look a bit pink.’

  ‘Mum, I said I’m fine!’ I get up so quickly that she has to step back. I make a point of looking her in the eye. ‘I’m fine,’ I say again.

  ‘Right. Well, good.’ Mum rubs her hands together. ‘I’ll go and start dinner.’

  I shut the door after her and dive for my phone.

  ‘What? You’re kidding!’ Briana’s voice comes breathless and rushed into the phone. ‘Oh … hold on.’ In the background I can hear the sound of her countless brothers laughing. A door slams, then Briana’s voice is back in my ear. ‘Sorry about that … and you’re sure it was empty?’

  ‘Yeah, pretty sure. But I dropped it straight away.’

  ‘It’s still lying on the floor?’

  A giggle rises in me. ‘Yeah, I totally freaked out.’

  We both crack up.

  Soon Briana’s breathing changes and I hear a muffled creak as if she’s settled onto her bed. ‘So, have you told your mum?’

  ‘Nope.’ I hadn’t thought about that. It’s always been Lucy who I talk to about stuff like this. She gets it. When my period started, Lucy gave me these tampons with a special applicator thingy that make the whole thing slightly less gross. But Mum? She took me shopping for dresses to ‘celebrate’. I didn’t get anything because we couldn’t agree on what to buy. What’s wrong with T-shirts and jeans?

  Everyone goes on as if the feminist revolution has already happened. But it hasn’t. My mum is living proof.

  ‘I suppose your mum might already know,’ says Briana.

  That starts me wondering. Does Mum already know about Lucy and Josh? Am I the only one who didn’t know?

  An idea comes to me. ‘Maybe it was their first time.’ That would explain why Lucy hasn’t told me yet.

  ‘Not likely,’ snorts Briana. ‘How long has Lucy been going out with Josh?’

  ‘Ah … two years.’ I add it up in my mind. ‘Maybe two and a half?’

  ‘Wow. It’s so romantic, don’t you think, like they’re really serious about each other.’

  Sure. I guess. ‘The thing is …’ I breathe in slowly. ‘She never said anything to me. Not even a peep.’

  The phone goes quiet before Briana says, ‘Maybe she thought you wouldn’t be interested.’

  ‘Not interested? This is pretty big news, Bri.’

  ‘No, but I mean … It’s like … You’re not exactly into romance and stuff, are you, E? I mean … maybe she started to tell you, but you just … didn’t seem to care.’

  What’s she talking about? ‘This is my sister. Of course I care about stuff she tells me. I care about her, don’t I?’

  Briana’s quiet then. Not thinking-quiet. Meaningful-quiet.

  ‘Yeah. Just forget it,’ says Briana.

  Neither of us speaks and I start to wish I’d waited to tell Bri to her face. At least then I could read her expression. I used to know what she was thinking all the time, without needing to ask. But lately with Bri, I’m not so sure I know anymore.

  ‘Anyway, got to go,’ says Briana. ‘I have another call.’ The rushed breathlessness is back. ‘Tell me all the goss once you ask her, okay?’

  ‘Yeah …’ I say quietly, because I don’t feel any better about this. The more I think about it, the worse it sounds. Is Briana right that Lucy didn’t think I’d understand?

  ‘See you tomoz,’ says Briana.

  ‘Yeah,’ I say again but by now the phone is dead. For a while I stare at it in my hand.

  My big sister, in bed with her boyfriend.

  I can’t believe I almost moved into her room.

  The bus is just squeaking away from the curb the next morning when the back of my seat shakes. ‘So, what was going on at your joint yesterday?’

  I know who it is before I even turn. George’s black hair and dark eyes are poking just above the top of the backrest. ‘Lucy moved out,’ I tell him.

  ‘No more Goose, hey?’ He lifts an eyebrow. ‘Thought so. Mum wanted to come over and say bye.’

  ‘She should have.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He shrugs. ‘You know … her English and all.’

  ‘You could have come over with her.’

  ‘Yeah, but see, I was busy blitzing in Hero Quest.’

  Blitzing? Now we’re talking. I twist all the way round and kneel on the seat so I’m riding backwards. ‘What level are you on?’

  George breaks into a cheeky grin. ‘Guess.’

  ‘Not twenty-three already?’

  ‘Nope,’ George says mysteriously, before gazing out the window. ‘Guess again.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I glance out the window too. Who cares? Well …

  My eyes slide back to him.

  ‘Level twenty-four,’ George says slowly, pronouncing each word, and then leaning back to watch my reaction.

  I swallow down a twinge of jealousy. ‘Really?’ It’s just a game. But still. I’m the one who told George about it in the first place.

  ‘What level are you on?’ he asks.

  I sigh and roll my eyes dramatically. ‘Nineteen.’

  George’s eyes crinkle, as if my agony is amusing. ‘Still?’

  ‘It’s taking ages to collect all those fish eggs,’ I moan. But I’m smiling too because it’s good to talk about something normal. This is way better than thinking about the stuff Lucy and Josh have been getting up to.

  George thinks for a moment. ‘You know, I had to google the final spell for that level.’

  ‘So you had to cheat?’

  ‘No! Well … sort of.’ He sniffs and crosses his arms, as if the conversation’s over.

  I shake my head at him. ‘How many times have you done that?’

  ‘Just once.’ He smiles sheepishly. I can tell he’s lying. ‘Want a clue?’

  ‘Nuh-uh.’ I hold my hands up. ‘Keep your googling for yourself.’

  George grins. ‘Well, good luck with Water Wizard,’ he says.

  ‘Whatever.’ I swivel in my seat to sit properly.

  For the rest of the trip, I don’t turn around. But I can sense George behind me. Water Wizard?

  George sticks close to me as we climb off the bus, but I pretend not to notice.

  ‘See ya.�
�� I say, and turn down the path towards our bench.

  ‘See ya,’ says George, and keeps walking. After a few steps, he calls back. ‘Message me if you want any help!’

  Not likely. I wave with my back to George as I head over to the bench.

  I’m only part way there when it comes over me, a Monday morning sort of mood. Here I am, again. I always feel — I don’t know — invisible when I’m at school. Not completely myself.

  Wearing a tent of a jumper over a stupid school dress doesn’t help.

  Neither does Phoebe. When I see her heading to our bench on the opposite side from me, I get the same sense of dread that I’ve had since Phoebe started hanging out with us. She’s one of those people who are so neat and perfect that they seem to shine.Shiny, long black hair. Flawless skin. She’s also one of those people who talk about boys and make-up all the time.

  ‘Hey.’ I dump my bag, flopping down next to Briana on the bench.

  Her pixie face relaxes into a smile, but before she even speaks Phoebe calls out, ‘Hi ladies!’ from further up the path.

  I can’t help wishing I had just a few minutes alone with Bri, like I used to.

  Phoebe positions herself next to Briana on the opposite side of the bench from me, which pretty much sums up the way our group works: me and Phoebe on either side of Bri, competing for her attention. Lately, though, I haven’t exactly been sitting on the winning side.

  ‘Guess who I just spoke to?’ Phoebe asks with a knowing smile.

  ‘Who? Hamish?’ Briana grabs Phoebe’s knee with both hands, while I hold back a smile. Bri might be small but she sure is strong.

  ‘Ouch,’ yells Phoebe, rubbing her leg. ‘Yep, I asked him if he’d be in maths and he said, That’s usually where I am on a Monday morning.’

  ‘Oh my god.’ Briana buries her face in her hands.

  I can’t help a sigh. Here we go. Hamish again.

  Phoebe thinks she’s the expert on all this stuff. She’s already hooked up with three guys, even Nelson in the year above us, which is exactly three more than me or Briana. Not that I want to hook up with some guy I hardly know.

  ‘Yep,’ says Phoebe. ‘So I said, Briana’s going to be there.’