The cars around me started beeping as the lights went green. I pumped the clutch and tried to put it into first gear but it was getting stuck. A learner's nightmare. Traffic backed up while I tried to ignore Speedo men begging for money. Terry was grunting in impatience yet refused to take over with his set of pedals to help me out. Flustered, I burnt a little rubber as I finally took off into the intersection. A Commodore with too many teenagers in it to be legal was trying to drag me while I concentrated on the road. They were cheering at my take off and making horse and jockey movements in their car.
Bogans. I couldn't wait for this lesson to be over. It felt like I'd never get the hang of driving.
Our last painful exercise was to park the car in the exact centre of the highest hill in town, Snowdon Street. I would have to gently ease the handbrake and rev the car just enough to get it to move up the steepest part of the incline and park at the top of the hill. I was packing death. I was not at all certain I should ease the hand brake. It freaked me out purely sitting in a car that was parked diagonally. Terry went through the instructions three times.
âAnd off we go.' He sounded overly confident.
Foot on clutch. Hand brake down. That's as far as I got before I sent us whizzing backwards down Mount Everest, into oncoming traffic.
â
Brake Daisy, brake,
â
Terry screamed wildly, hands flailing around his fat little head.
I heard him, but it didn't register. My foot remained locked on the clutch and my hands wouldn't move off the steering wheel for anything. I didn't check my mirrors to make sure we weren't careering into any houses, or worse, letterboxes.
Just before we reached the bottom, Terry sighed and hit his set of brakes. I peered around me sheepishly, wanting to shrink into the seat. He had stopped us metres before hitting four lanes of peak hour traffic.
âOut, Daisy.'
I peeled myself out of the seat and bolted to the passenger side of the car.
An âend of week one' open house party was a tradition for students at St Dominic's College. It was usually at a senior's house chosen according to whose parents would be away that weekend, or on the unlikely occasion, had given permission. I picked up a flier and grinned. It was at Rach's house. How did she wing that?
âSo what do you think, Dais?' Rach was suddenly in my face bouncing up and down.
âStoked. Where will the folks be?' I grabbed her shoulders to stop her jumping.
She grabbed my wrists instead. âVisiting Mum's sister in Perth. Do you like the invites? I made them myself.'
âYeah. I was beginning to think this party was never going to happen. Talk about last minute.' I shook my wrists free and started walking to the lockers.
There was a small note wedged between the vents at the front of mine when I arrived. It was from Roman.
Feels like we haven't talked properly for a while. Coffee this arvo?
It would be good to chat again. There's only one problem. It meant I couldn't walk home with Nate and learn more about him. I was desperate to continue our conversation from yesterday morning. It also meant I couldn't invite him to the party in time for the weekend. I cursed myself for throwing out his number in my typical fit of rage and thought of ways to get around this.
If I postponed, Roman might start asking questions; he was a smart boy and he probably suspected Nate's interest in me. On the other hand, he might be gambling with the fact that Nate can't come to the party unless I specifically invite him face to face. He didn't know whether I had his number or not.
Not wanting to think that Roman would put in that much effort to sabotage my friendship with Nate, I put the note in my pocket to mull over for the day.
Before lunchtime I had my outfit and hair planned like the rest of the female population at school. I couldn't wait to help Rach set up her house. It was hard to predict how many students would show, as it was open house. I was pretty sure it was going to be the party of the year regardless.
As we walked into maths, Skye brushed past Rach and whispered, âHope you don't mind if we invite a few extra friends along to the party,' with a wink.
Skye had very colourful friends, so it is always a worry when she wants to go to your party. Rach tried to ignore her, but I guessed she was having second thoughts already about the party. Her parents were lovely people who didn't deserve to have their house trashed if Skye felt like being a bitch.
âIt will be fine,' I reassured her while Mr Berry wrote the problems to solve for this lesson on the board. âYou have me watching your back â and Roman.'
âThanks. Maybe we can have someone at the door turning away strangers?' she suggested, but looked doubtful.
âYeah, maybe. Talk about it later.' I opened my exercise book and prepared myself for another lesson of inevitable failing.
Time was dragging. I longed for the beach and the white, open sands. I wanted to daydream all my classes away until I found something that motivated my own interests and stimulated my mind. It's a pity daydreamers are told they'll never get anywhere in life.
Just before I walked into history last period I felt someone clasp my elbow gently. I turned around to face Roman in his full height above me. I peered up at him and smiled.
âI've been looking for you. Did you get my note? Meet you at the gate after school?' he asked, eyes hopeful.
I had made up my mind that my friendship with him was more important than my hormonal interest in Nate, and besides, I wanted to hear any new goss in Roman's life.
âYeah, sorry I haven't got back to you earlier. I've been daydreaming. Sounds good.' I smiled earnestly at him.
âGlad you are coming. My shout.' He flashed a smile at me and walked away.
Sitting at St Peter's Bakery on its sunny terrace, I felt as if I was undergoing the Spanish Inquisition. Roman was in one of his annoying cheeky moods and wanted to know everything about âgrammar boy' and my level of interest in him. No matter what I said, he refused to stop ripping me off about Nate.
I punched him in the shoulder for the third time since leaving school, hurting my fist more than him.
âI am
not
a sucker for rich boys,' I spat back at him.
Pondering, he rubbed his chin. âOK, OK. Give me more time, I can guess. It must be his hair. All that product in it attracts you to him because deep down, you want him to be one of your girlfriends and play hairdressers with him.' He laughed at his amazing wit.
âYou're hilarious.' I rolled my eyes in mock despair.
âMore? His first pick up line was that he lost his pet possum and needed your help to find it. Then he asked you on a date to thank you and you couldn't resist a man who is sappy enough to use a possum as an excuse to get in your â¦'
I rubbed my weary eyes. Maybe if I ignored him, he'd stop. It made him worse.
His eyes lit up. âI've got it. He's promised to buy you all the surf clothes in the world if you help him pass year twelve,'Â he alleged, taking a drink of coffee.
âNext,' I said, bored. I thought this was supposed to be fun.
âHe's given you some sob story about his family being unhappy in their wealth of money and you feel sorry for him so you waste your time talking to him.'
When I frowned into my cup, his eyes bulged. âYou're so soft Daisy Brooks. And gullible. Is that how he's charming you?'
âStop it, Roman.'
I didn't like the idea of being manipulated by real life stories. How could I test if it was true or not?
âI don't know what's going on yet so can we drop it please?'
âFine. Don't blame me when he steals your GHD and runs away to Mexico with it.' He ruffled my hair as I ground my teeth.
Flattening my afro, I grumbled, âLook. How would you like it if I asked you a million questions about girls you âhappened' to talk to?'
Roman liked this question. Sitting up in his chair, he folded his arms and grinned at me. âTry it. But if you were really observant, you'd notice you're pretty much the only girl I talk to. For long periods of time, that is.'
I thought about this for a second. âBull.'
He called my bluff. âFine; who have you seen me talking to recently? First week of school? Hit me.' The latter was tempting, but my wrist still ached from the last time â¦
Desperately delving back into my memory, I vaguely remembered Skye trying to make a pass at him, but he managed to get out of it without getting her offside. So that left minimal options for argument. He had spoken to me and Rach, and ⦠that's it.
âRach.' I folded my arms to match his, in certain triumph.
Roman slammed his palm on the table. âShe doesn't count. I only talked to her âcos she was with you.'
âWhat a gentleman,' I pouted, knowing he was right about the whole thing.
âCome on ranga, give up. You've got your family dinner now, haven't you? I'll walk you home. It's probably safer than you driving us, anyway.' He stepped away from my fist just in time.
So I chased him down the road.
Nanna was sitting at the dining room table sipping a hot drink as I walked through the front door. I was so excited to see her. Every visit she brought me clothes from the local op shop that she thought I would like. Some of it was cool; most of it was from a time long before I was conceived. I always pretended to like it regardless.
âI hope you're not studying too hard, young lady,' she said into my hair as I gave her a huge hug.
âAww, I could easily let a bit more slide.' I grinned and sat down on a wooden chair next to her.