The Bad Girls' Club (8 page)

After shopping for over an hour, I still had a full credit card and no shopping bags. I was a failure at this shopping business. I
’d done the whole street and finally crossed Commercial Road. Beth had told me that nothing was worth looking at once I’d crossed that. She’d also told me that I shouldn’t do this alone. Shopping’s an art form, Beth had said. Not to be taken lightly by amateurs. Still, I’d wanted to go on my own – I needed to find the real me. Not the old me and not the Beth makeover me. The problem was, I had no idea who the real me was.

There had been a nice pink skirt in the first shop I
’d gone to. I could go back and get that but I hadn’t loved it and $150 was a lot of money for something you didn’t love. I thought about grabbing a coffee and heading home in defeat when I spotted the red plaid skirt.

I spun around to take a second look. There it was, nestled among the spider lace tops and black leather corsets. I sighed. That was as far away from the real me as you could get. Only girls with piercings and tattoos wore skirts like that. I kept walking.

Still, I
could
go into the shop. I
could
try it on. It’s not like there was some law against it – the Juliette Can’t Try On Cool Clothes Act of 1985 – that just didn’t exist as far as I knew.

I walked in. The music playing in the shop sounded like jackhammers – nice, rhythmic jackhammers – but jackhammers nonetheless. The concrete floor had an intricate pattern of dragons painted on it. A display case near the door held giant silver rings and vampire dolls. And I
’d walked in here wearing my daggy work skirt.

A girl with fire engine red hair nodded at me from the counter, all friendly-like. She wasn
’t scary at all. She had one of those blunt fringes. I wondered how I’d look with a fringe like that. I’d not had a fringe since Mum had cut my hair in primary school. That definitely hadn’t suited me.

I looked through the racks, wondering if I should just skedaddle, when I found the skirt. I started to pull it out then put it back. Then I remembered I was a Bad Girl. What kind of bad girl wimps out of trying on a skirt? A lousy one, I
’d say. I grabbed it and held it up against me, looking around for a mirror.

‘
Wow, that’s great,’ the girl said. ‘Try it on.’

I headed to the change rooms at the back of the shop and slipped it on. A thrill ran through me as I looked in the mirror. This was definitely a Bad Girl skirt. A skirt for getting into trouble. And, since I
’m a bad girl, I had to have it. In fact, I’d fallen in love.

I could feel my grin splitting my face as I walked to the counter. Damn it. I
’d get that skirt.

‘
These look great with that skirt,’ said the girl, pointing me towards a pile of tee shirts. I picked out one with a heart tattoo design on the front. Yeah, that was bad ass. And a leather studded wristband. A pair of stripy stockings.

I dumped my booty on the counter then kept looking. This shop rocked.

‘Check out the dresses near the door,’ the red-haired girl called. ‘They are so
you
.’

I walked over to the rack with another thrill. The shop girl thought the cool dresses were me. She walked over to another rack and pulled something out.

‘How about this?’ she asked, holding up a black PVC corset. I laughed and shook my head. That was surely going too far. Where on earth would I wear something like that?

***

When I got to Craig’s, I walked in on him playing Guitar Hero. Not just playing, jumping on the couch doing rock star windmills while the chorus of
Smoke on the Water
blared out of the TV.

‘
You dork,’ I said, punching him playfully on the leg. He grinned at me but kept it up. I squeezed on the corner of the couch, well out of the way of his stomping foot action.

‘
Want a go?’ he asked when the song finished, passing the guitar over to me.

I shook my head.

‘What do ya wanna play then? Tekken? Virtua Fighter 4? Smackdown?’ He slid down beside me.

I shrugged.
‘Why don’t we do something different?’

‘
It doesn’t have to be Playstation. X Box is good too.’

‘
We could go out.’ I smoothed my skirt down, waiting for his reaction. No point having all these new clothes then spending my night sitting around playing games with Craig.

‘
Out?’

‘
Yeah, it’s not such a weird concept is it? That’s what normal people do on a Saturday night.’

‘
Aw, but Jules, you know I hate going out. What does ‘out’ have that I don’t have here? A big screen TV? Surround sound? A fine selection of gaming entertainment? I think not. And besides, Tony’s delivers. That’s the whole point of living in this modern, technologically-advanced age. You never have to leave your home.’

I thought about that funky café we
’d gone to on the girl’s night out.

‘
You don’t have cocktails or a DJ.’

‘
I have beers and a stereo system.’

I sighed. This was going nowhere. Another boring night of games and pizza. I folded my legs under me and thought for a minute.

‘I’ll play you for it.’

‘
Huh?’

‘
We’ll play a game. I win, we go out. You win, we stay in.’

Craig snorted.
‘Sure thing.’

I
’d never beaten Craig at anything before. But then I’d never wanted to beat Craig before. I picked up the controller and sat, cross-legged, beside him on the couch.

‘
Street Fighter?’ I asked.

Craig hunted for the disc, laughing to himself.

‘Which version?’

‘
I dunno. Old skool. And get us a drink, will you?’

Craig sat a couple of beers on the coffee table then put the game in.

‘You aren’t allowed to cry when I beat you,’ he said. ‘You’re entering a world of hurt, you do realise that.’

‘
You think?’ I leaned over and opened my beer.

‘
It’s like this, Jules. One of us has the mad gaming skillz and the other one is... well, a girl.’

I kicked him on the leg.
‘You calling yourself a girl, Craig? You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.’

‘
I’m just saying…’

The game started up.

‘I’m going to be Ken.’

‘
You can’t be Ken. Be Chun Li.’

In the entire history of guys gaming with girls, if you play Street Fighter, they will tell you to be Chun Li. Because she
’s a girl and so are you. You can’t possibly be an imaginary pixelated man.

And, in the entire history of gaming, when you are being Chun Li and you win, the guy will get shitty because you used the spinning bird kick which somehow in their minds is unfair even if they spend the whole time throwing hadoukens at you. Then they sulk.

I used the spinning bird kick.

I threw the controller on the ground and jumped up.

‘Game Over. Did you see that? Read those words. “Chun Li” wins. That means Juliette wins. In fact, Juliette, pwns. Now get your dancing on. We’re going out.’

Craig glared at me.
‘That was just luck. You couldn’t do it again. No way. Come on. Best of three.’

‘
There’s no best of three. Best of three is for lamers. Suck it up, Craig.’ I poked him in the arm. ‘You were beaten by a girl. We’re going out for cocktails. Now stop sulking and be a good sport.’

He scowled for a minute then broke into a grin.
‘That was a damn good effort, Jules. For a girl.’

I looked him over. His oversized Dr Who tee shirt flapped around him like a neon sign screaming
‘NERD’.

‘
Let’s go,’ he said.

‘
Aren’t you going to get changed first?’

He shrugged.
‘What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?’

Where did I start with that? But I could fix that, I
’m sure. I walked into his room to find him something decent to wear. It looked like a war zone. I kicked aside magazines and pizza boxes and Coke bottles to clear a path then rummaged through the biggest pile of clothes and found a halfway decent pair of jeans. But, when I picked them up, the smell nearly made me hurl.

‘
When’s the last time you did laundry?’ I called out to him.

‘
The other day.’

‘
What day?’

‘
The weekend, remember when you came over and we watched Evil Dead.’

‘
That was three weeks ago. You pig.’ I walked into the lounge room and threw the jeans at him. ‘These things will be walking on their own soon.’

Craig looked up at me blankly.
‘Oh yeah, I spilt lasagne on them. I meant to wash them.’ Domestically, Craig wasn’t like people. More like a bear with furniture.

I shook my head and walked back to find him an outfit. The problem was, Craig
’s mum bought most of his clothes. Polo shirts and baggy jeans. Not exactly the thing you wear to a groovy bar. I really needed to go shopping for him.

‘
Do you own anything that isn’t nerdwear?’ I asked him.

‘
I am a nerd. I love being a nerd. I’m going in the Nerd Pride march. And what’s up with you anyway, Jules? Since when do you care about clothes and going out?’

I found a plain black t-shirt and some reasonably clean jeans.

‘Just put these on while I fix my makeup.’ I handed him the clothes and walked in the bathroom.

‘
Fix your makeup?’ Craig muttered to himself while I reapplied my lip gloss. I took the front section of my hair and folded it over, fringe-like, but I couldn’t get an idea of how it would look. I thought of asking Craig’s advice but that would be pointless. He hadn’t even noticed my makeover. I could shave all my hair off and he’d not even realise.

Craig had changed when I came out. I looked at him and sighed. He
’d tried but he just didn’t wear clothes well. I straightened his tee shirt, tried tucking it in then untucking it. I flattened his hair and mucked around. Nothing helped.

Suddenly, I couldn
’t see Craig in some flash café. It would be like one of those picture puzzles you do as a kid where you have to work out the thing that doesn’t fit. It would take a five year old a whole two seconds to realise that thing was Craig. We’d have a crap night out. He’d feel awkward and out of place and spend the whole time nagging to come home. Just because I’d been made over didn’t mean that Craig had to change. In fact, I think Craig was un-makeover-able.

I picked up the controller off the floor.

‘Why don’t you call Tony’s,’ I said, handing it to him. ‘I’ve decided to stay home.’

***

Beth and Imogen stared at me when I got the Bad Girls’ Club meeting.

‘
What’s up?’ I asked. When they didn’t answer me, I got paranoid. I covered my face with my hands. ‘Tell me.’

‘
It’s just... what’s with this look?’ asked Beth.

I
’d tried to do my makeup like she’d shown me but then I thought some black eyeliner would look good. And I had to wear my new skirt to show it off.

I turned to Imogen to get her reaction.

‘It’s… different,’ she said. ‘Dramatic.’

‘
Dramatic, my arse,’ said Beth. ‘With your pale skin, you look like a vampire and that lipstick does nothing for you. Juliette, subtlety is the key.’

She sighed as I sat down.

‘I think you should wash it off.’ She looked around the bar, which was empty except for a couple of old codgers sitting at the bar. ‘What if someone saw you looking like that? You didn’t go to work with all that stuff on your face, did you?’

She had to be kidding. I didn
’t look
that
bad. I half expected her to pull out a hanky and spit on it then start rubbing my face.

‘
Shut up, Beth’ hissed Imogen. She turned to me. ‘It’s not too bad… and your skirt is really cute.’

‘
Not too bad?’ Beth shook her head. ‘My makeover was magic. While this…’ She waved a hand at me. ‘… this makes her look like an extra from the Vampire Diaries.’

Then Beth did pull a tissue from her handbag and dabbed at my lips. At least she didn
’t spit on it.

I pulled away, staring at Beth. She really did think I looked awful. I grabbed my bag. I
’d go scrub it off or maybe just run out, go back home where no one could see how stupid I looked. I should never have tried to change myself.

Imogen grabbed my arm.
‘Don’t take orders from Beth. If you like it, then you stay like that.’