Hot Little Hands (17 page)

“Okay.”

Their phones buzzed. It was Holly and Bec, wanting to know where they were and if they were coming to the next party.

“You go,” said Elise. “I'm not feeling it.”

“Me neither.”

The next time their phones vibrated, neither of them checked. Not long after that, they decided it was time to go home.

On Sunday morning, Elise's mum drove the girls to Highfern, pulled into one of the underground car parks, and stopped in front of the automatic doors. The guy in the car behind her honked, and she waved at him to go around.

“Don't forget, it's winter,” she said. “They heat this place like mad but it's still cold outside. So don't buy summer stuff.”

“We won't,” Elise said.

“Thanks for the lift,” said Jenni.

Inside, the shopping center was noisy. The air smelled like roasting nuts, then Lush soap, then Subway bread. The girls passed their usual shops. The mannequins were indeed dressed for warmer weather: onesies over bikinis, leotards under crop tops, stripy T-shirts tucked into shorts held up by suspenders.

“I like that cutout dress,” Elise said as they passed Forever New.

“Cute,” said Jenni, but they didn't go in.

“Do you wanna maybe see a movie?”

“Yeah, let's go see what's on.”

They walked halfway around that floor, past a bunch of shops, and rode the escalator to the next floor up. They walked halfway around that floor, past a bunch of shops, and rode the escalator up again.

“Wait, is this even the right building?”

“Are there toilets on this floor?”

“Can we sit down for a second? I'm thirsty.”

Twenty minutes later, they found the cinema. There were lots of new movies out. The girls had hardly seen anything. They decided on
Burlesque.
It was about a girl who moves to the city to fulfill her dream of becoming a performer. After that, they still didn't feel like shopping, so they bought tickets for
Tiny Furniture.
That was about a girl who moves to the city to fulfill her dream of becoming an artist. Then they got popcorn and slushies at the concession stand and went to see
Winter's Bone,
about a girl who goes looking for her dead father. Then, because they weren't hungry for lunch after the snacks, they saw
True Grit,
about a girl who goes looking for the killer of her dead father. Then Elise called her mum and asked her to come get them later than planned because they wanted to see
Somewhere.

“It's about this girl who visits her dad. She makes him macaroni and cheese, and cheers him up,” Elise told her mum in the car later. It was dark outside now. The girls were tired.

“Sounds good,” her mum said. “And what else? What did you get?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh yeah, I know what that means.” Elise's mum reached over and poked her shoulder. “Come on. Show me what you bought.”

“We didn't get anything. We just went to the movies.”

“That's it? That's all you did?”

“Pretty much.”

“Jesus, Lise. How many movies is that?”

“I dunno. Two, three. Four, maybe?”

“What's the point of coming all the way to Highfy to sit on your bum in the dark? You could have watched this stuff on iTunes at home.”

“But these movies aren't on iTunes yet.”

“You girls,” Elise's mum said. But she didn't say anything else. Elise pulled the hood of her jacket over her head and watched the road. Jenni leaned her cheek against the seat and fell asleep. She didn't wake up until they got to her house and her mum came out to say hi.

“How was it?” she asked as Jenni climbed out of the car.

“Hi, girl,” Jenni said. She crouched on the ground and patted their dog, Na'vi. “Hi, girl girl girl.”

“What did you get?” her mum asked.

“They didn't buy anything.” Elise's mum leaned across her daughter and spoke out the passenger window.

“Yeah, heard that one before.”

“No, really. They saw movies all day.”

“Is that true?” Jenni's mum asked her.

Jenni had her face pushed into Na'vi's neck. “Did you miss me, girl? You didn't miss me, did you?”

“I hate to think how much that cost,” Jenni's mum said.

“Don't get me started.”

“Thanks for driving them.”

“No worries.”

“See you soon. School holidays coming up.”

“Oh yeah. Can't wait.”

Late that night, just after two, Elise was woken by a text from Zach.
You up?

She squinted at the screen, then shoved her phone under the pillow without answering. Five minutes later it buzzed again.

See ya

Elise sighed and rolled onto her back. The sticker stars above her were all faded; it had been hours since she turned off the light.

Im slee—
she was writing back when the phone rang in her hand.

“I got sick of typing,” Zach said, “so I just called.”

“Okay. What's up?”

“Not much. I can't sleep.”

“How come?”

“I dunno. Darren crashed here last night, and we played Wii all day. Now every time I shut my eyes, it's like I'm playing that FIFA game in my head.”

“Oh yeah, I hate that.”

“Have you actually had that before?”

“Yeah, it used to happen all the time when I played Cactus Ninja.”

“Oh, good. I thought I was going crazy. I told my mum and she started looking it up on WebMD.” He laughed. “Are you in bed?”

“Yep.”

“Me too.”

“Cool.”

“Where'd you guys go last night?”

“Just home.”

“You left so early, you missed everything.”

“Yeah, I saw Sara-Jane's pics. Looked like you guys were getting pretty coze.” Zach didn't respond to that. Elise heard a rustling sound, like he was turning over in bed.

“We're having another party in the holidays. My dad's going away. You have to come.”

“Okay.”

“You're not going to, are you?”

“I dunno. I'd have to check.”

“With who? Jenni? I'll ask her, too.”

“Okay. Don't call her now, though. She's probably sleeping.”

“What's the deal with you guys? Holly told me you haven't been answering her messages.”

“That's bullshit.”

“You should be careful, Lise. You don't want to lose all your friends.”

“Whatever. It's not like I'm gonna lose Jenni.”

“Yeah, you'll always have Jenni. And Na'vi.”

“Exactly.”

“And I'll still be your friend, even when you're acting like a total freak.”

“Nah, I'm good with Jenni and Na'vi.”

“Wow. Such a smart-ass.”

“You love it.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I guess I do. It's so annoying. Good night, Lise.”

“G-N.”

After school on Tuesday, Elise's mum took her to see Dr. Alonso, the pediatrician she'd been going to since she was born. He was still her doctor but he hadn't looked directly at her since she'd gone through puberty.

“I don't mean to overreact,” Elise's mum said, sitting in the chair beside her in his office, “but she's been acting a bit different. We were worried it's chronic fatigue or something.”

“Elise?” Dr. Alonso stared at something just to the left of Elise's elbow. “Have you been feeling differently?”

Elise shrugged and leaned her head over to the left, to try to get within the doctor's line of vision. “I dunno,” she said. “I just haven't felt like going out as much.”

“Any changes in diet or lifestyle? Are you a vegetarian or anything like that?”

“No.”

“Everything's okay at school? No problems keeping up with classes? Any issues socially?”

Elise tilted farther to the left. The doctor shifted his gaze accordingly. “No, it's fine.”

And just when she thought the guy might be legitimately cross-eyed, he turned and looked directly at her mum. “And everything's okay at home? No major changes?”

“No. I mean, we're busy as usual, but that's nothing new.” She looked over at Elise. “Lise is the only thing that's changed recently.”

The doctor said he would do some blood tests. He also suggested starting Elise on a low dose of an antidepressant, to even out any chemical or hormonal issues she might be having.

“I dunno,” Elise's mum said. “We're not really big believers in that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, I haven't heard good things,” Elise said. “But do you have any Xanax? Or isn't there something for ADHD that curbs your appetite?”

“Okay,” her mum said, standing up. “We'll all discuss it at home and come back.”

“I don't wanna go back,” Elise said afterward. They were at a café across the street from the clinic. Elise's mum was drinking a mochaccino. Elise had a chai latte with honey. “He's gross.”

“He's not gross,” her mum said. “He's a hundred years old. He has kids older than you are. Didn't you see the photos? You girls—you think everyone who looks at you wants to sleep with you, and everyone who doesn't look at you wants to sleep with you. Honestly.”

Elise didn't respond. She dragged her chair halfway around the table and leaned her head onto her mum's shoulder. “What are you doing?” her mum said. “You're weirding me out.”

Her mum smelled exactly the same as she had when Elise was little: a mixture of apricot moisturizer and the mouth rinse they used at the orthodontist's office where she worked as an assistant.

“Can I have the foam off your coffee?” Elise asked.

“No,” her mum said. “I want it. Why don't you get your own?”

“I don't want my own.”

Her mum tilted her cheek over until it rested on the top of Elise's head. “Elise Ashleigh Jensen,” she said. “What are we gonna do with you?”

“What I really want?”

“Yeah?” Her mum sat up. She put her coffee cup on its saucer. “What?”

“Don't laugh.”

“I won't.”

“You already are!”

“I can't help it. As soon as someone says not to. But go on, tell me.”

“I kind of wanna go back to horse camp.”

“Seriously?” her mum said. “The one in Daylesford?”

“Just for a few days.”

“Wow. I don't even know if that place still exists.”

The girls insisted on sitting in the backseat together, even though Jenni's mum complained that she felt like a taxi driver.

“It's not like we'll pay you at the end or anything,” Jenni said.

“How are they playing Prince on the golden oldies station?” her mum asked. “You girls know who Prince is, right?”

It was Saturday morning and most of the traffic was going in the other direction: people coming into the city to shop or go to the football match. They took the Monash Freeway to the West Gate Bridge. The girls looked back at the skyline as they left it behind. Half an hour later they were passing housing developments they'd seen advertised on TV.
IF YOU LIVED HERE, YOU'D BE TEEING OFF ALREADY,
the signs said. Half an hour after that, they were driving through countryside, past green fields where cows stood around chewing grass and staring out at the road, as though
they
were the scenery.

Elise and Jenni had each packed leggings, boots, flannel shirts, woolen scarves, gloves, and parkas. Elise had half a gram of weed and some rolling papers. Jenni had a six-pack of Vodka Cruisers rolled inside her sleeping bag. Both girls remembered what they used to bring to horse camp: a Ouija board, stuffed animals, a ton of junk food, and a torch with extra batteries, in case they wanted to tell ghost stories, or in case they got scared walking from the dining hall to the cabin at night.

They remembered all that but somehow it didn't occur to them that the other girls at horse camp were going to be the age they had been back then—until they pulled into the campground and saw a group of girls kicking a ball to one another across a soggy field. They looked really young: ten, eleven, twelve.

“Great,” Jenni said.

“Can we get a cabin to ourselves?” Elise asked Margot, the older woman who ran the camp, when they went into the office to register and pay.

“Most of the cabins are closed up this time of year,” Margot said. “But I'll put you in the emptiest one, just a few other girls in there. They're all friends, from Castlemaine. They'll probably just keep to themselves.”

Jenni's mum tore a check along the perforation and slid it across the desk. The girls walked her back to the car. “Have fun,” she said as they pulled their bags out of the trunk. She was about to climb into the driver's seat when Jenni came over and gave her a hug.

“Whoa.” Jenni's mum lowered her hands onto her daughter's back slowly, as though the girl might detonate at any moment. “I don't think you've hugged me since the day I said you could get a dog.”

“That's not true,” Jenni said, letting go.

Her mum waved out the window as she circled out of the car park. “Text me if you need anything,” she called. Then she pulled her hand back into the car.

The other girls were already in the cabin when Elise and Jenni got there. They were sitting on three different top bunks, listening to music, and passing around a big bag of corn chips. Elise and Jenni had heard them talking when they opened the door, but they'd stopped as soon as the older girls came in. The one closest to them was playing Candy Conspiracy
.

“Do you have phone reception out here?” Elise asked her. “I can't get any.”

“I can sometimes get 3G. But this isn't a phone, it's an iPod touch.” The girl smiled. She was pretty, in a freckly way, but she was going to need braces.