July, Year 12

Gab, Toby, Lauren and Jane were chatting in the study rooms while a wild winter storm raged outdoors. Jane was looking through the VTAC guide, flicking through the results required for any number of courses. It was like roulette: roll the ball, land on a future …

“Actuarial studies? What the hell’s actuarial studies?” exclaimed Jane, a piece of spinach lodged between her front teeth.

“No idea. Keep going, Pop-eye!”

Jane continued, speaking loudly over the whipping wind while digging the spinach out of her teeth: “Bachelor of Agriculture at Melbourne, seventy-two; Biomedicine, ninety-five; Commerce, ninety-three … ah, got it!” She was victorious over the spinach. “Design, eighty-eight; Economics … no, wait, that’s a Bachelor of Commerce … Bachelor of Fine Arts in Acting …” Jane shut the book suddenly. “Why are there so many? I’m never going to be able to choose!” she groaned.

“And why is agriculture low?” asked Gab quietly. “Do they think farmers are stupid?”

“Why does it matter?” asked Jane, eyebrows raised. “Makes it easier to get in. Isn’t that what you’re putting for first preference?”

“I’m pretty sure it’ll be agriculture,” said Gab, taking a bite out of a dryish sandwich. “Or maybe something maths related. Or psychology.”

“Maths! Geez, you’re so weird,” Toby exclaimed. “Why??” He ran his hand through his thick black hair, not realising he was depositing large amounts of salt from his hot chips in doing so. He seemed genuinely concerned by Gab’s interest in maths.

Gab shrugged. “Each to their own, Tobias. Personally, I can’t understand your fascination with luring unsuspecting fish towards fatally sharp hooks so that you can puncture their faces, reel them in and then beat them to death!”

“You’re still scarred after the Eyeball Incident of Grade Six camp! Remember that?!” reminisced Toby. “The hook went straight through the flatty’s eye! You screamed your head off!” He cackled with a mouthful of hot chips.

“Yeah, well, it was gross!” Gab whacked him with a textbook.

“Toby, you have salt through your hair, you feral. Now, on to more important things than careers and fishing,” interjected Lauren, a blonde wisp of a girl with more stamina than most people suspected. “My parents are driving down to Melbourne for the weekend. That means we have the house to ourselves. Party time or what? Who’s in?”

General keenness fluttered round the group. But Gab felt deflated.

“Seriously? Another drinking fest? It’s a waste of time and money.”

“Touchy, touchy!” chided Lauren. “Everyone’s happy to come except you!”

Gab clenched her jaw bitterly. Her classmates were idiots when they were drunk, and she hated being the sober one who cleaned up after them. She had enough cleaning-up to do in life.

“Yeah, Gab,” chimed in Jane. “Why won’t you come? You always avoid our parties. Isn’t Jack at his dad’s this weekend?”

Gab couldn’t stomach it today.

“Doesn’t matter,” she murmured. And she shut out the rest of the conversation. She shut out her feelings. She was just like the study room: still, immobile, unwavering despite the intensity of the wind around it. Gab waited and waited, until the moment passed and she could resume life again.

She wasn’t willing to mess with the fact that Jack relied on her; that she needed to be on her game for Gina, just in case. She told herself she avoided drinking with her friends because she was mature, because she didn’t want to waste a moment of her life in drunken insensibility. The reality was that her options were shaped by her situation, and she couldn’t make a decision external to her responsibilities. Besides, she lived a tightly reigned existence. Her reticence to let down her hair was also a fear of being seen, of unravelling. Once she began to relax and let her guard down, who knew what would happen?

The bell rang and the final two periods of the day began. Biology at two o’clock was always a drag. Jane and Lauren sat next to Gab, which wouldn’t have bothered her a bit, except that they kept guessing who would and wouldn’t come to the party, discussing the whole event without pause. Gab tried to focus instead on writing up the steps from yesterday’s plant dissection. She inhabited another world to those girls. Why was she turned off by the things that appealed to everyone else? She wanted to belong but was simultaneously repelled at the thought of joining them. Torn.

Gab met Jack at the school gate like she always did, and they hopped on their bikes. This was how it was—rain, hail or shine, and they were more than used to it. Lauren couldn’t hack doing this, Gab thought to herself, as much as I can’t hack the idea of that stupid party. They were just different, that was all. Gab thought perhaps she’d buy the girls some chocolate and chips for the party, even though she wasn’t going. That would make up for their argument, or at least show that she wasn’t an outsider. She’d drop it off to Lauren’s after work tomorrow. Then she’d be back home in time to make dinner for Mum.

Up the final hill before Tony’s place, the properties grew bigger. The distance between mailboxes increased with every turn of the pedals. Gab was unlucky enough to ride over a nail halfway up; her front tyre was promptly reduced to a flabby mess.

“Oh damn.” She stopped. Jack was up ahead. “Hey Jack! I’ve got a flat!” she called.

“Oh no!” yelled Jack, “What happened, Gab?” He wheeled around, back to his sister.

Gab squatted by her bike, spinning the wheel to find the culprit.

“There!” Jack pointed to a flat nail head, sunk deep into the rubber. “That’s a bad one!”

“We’re not far from home,” reflected Gab. “You ride on ahead.”

“Nah,” said Jack, and he walked with Gab instead.

“Got plans for your dad’s tomorrow night?” Gab asked after a bit, as they pushed their bikes through the gravel and gum leaves.

“You bet!” exclaimed Jack. “Movie night with popcorn and pizza!”

“Sounds great.” Unlike her own father, Jack’s dad maintained consistent contact with his son. Gab didn’t even know her own father’s name.

“What are you going to do tomorrow night?” asked Jack.

“Don’t know,” Gab shrugged.

“You could have a movie night too,” Jack suggested.

“With Mum?”

“Yeah, but invite Tony,” suggested Jack. “That’ll be more fun. Or maybe have one with your mates.”

Gab shrugged.

“But you never hang out with them!” Jack argued. “Why? Don’t you like them?”

Gab frowned. “Yeah, I do like them! I’m just busy … with school and work…”

“Who are your friends then?”

“You know! Toby, Lauren, Jane.”

“Oh yeah, those friends. Is Toby your boyfriend?”

“No!”

“Toby and Gaaaab sitting in a tree…”

Then Gab chased her brother home, but he had the advantage and jumped on his bike, leaving her in a cloud of dust.