My Little Pony when she was eight years old. But for some reason, whenever Miss Waffles is around, Mr Freddo goes all gooey-eyed and starts frolicking about like a love-struck puppy.
It’s just weird, if you ask me, but I’m glad I found a Judy for Mr Freddo’s Punch. As though he knows I’m the reason for his sudden happiness, he no longer tries to gnaw my legs when I take him for walks. It seems electricity poles are just as tasty.
Mum keeps trying to match-make them but Miss Waffles isn’t having a bar of it.
It starts to rain and Amber and Caitlin race off to a nearby café.
When I arrive home, Mum asks if I was spying on my sister again.
‘Me? Spying?’ I say, cut to the core by her accusation. ‘Why would I bother spying on her at the vert when I see her every day at home?’
‘Have you been peeking in Caitlin’s room?’
My mouth drops. ‘Why would I peek into that rat-infested sewer?’
‘Why do you always answer a question with a question?’
‘Dunno, Mum. Do you think I might get that from you?’
She looks puzzled for a moment. ‘Do you think so?’
She goes off to spy on Mr Freddo and Miss Waffles. At the door she turns around for a second. ‘You should spend more time with Jay.’
‘Who says I don’t?’
Mum peers at me, like I’m a bug under a microscope she’s still trying to figure out. Mind you, that’s pretty much how all parents look at their kids in times of uncertainty. It’s what Dad calls a default setting.
It’s this brief conversation regarding Caitlin’s bedroom that gives me a great idea.
Chapter Four
I have to give it to her, Amber is an amazing skater. Did I forget to mention how I took a picture of her skating at the vert? I posted it on social media hoping to draw the attention of Hollywood producers or someone important. (Dad calls it ‘fame by association’. Like, if she becomes famous, I’ll be associated with that fame.)
I forgot that once-upon-a-time I ‘friended’ Caitlin on Facebook. Mum suggested I do it after reading a book on family structure. (Note to Mum, pop psychology books have some great ideas!)
So Amber gets roaring mad. Calls me a perv. A stalker. A sewer rat. I’m obviously doing something wrong.
She tried to lock me in a kennel. I did a ‘James Gong’ and made a hasty retreat.
Her attitude towards me has definitely plunged.
Chapter Five
Later, I watch Caitlin and Amber leave for the vert ramp again. Amber lets Caitlin skate there on her new rollerblades. Not sure that’s a good idea. She’s all over the place. What if she gets stuck in the Nicholson Street tracks? She could end up as a hood ornament on a tram.
Then I’d have to do all her chores on top of mine. Oh, wait, I already am. I make a note to add that to qualities I have as Jay hasn’t yet given me a list. I’ve scratched off the fact that I tidied up Caitlin’s room for her after that conversation with Mum. When Caitlin found everything all neatly tucked away in her room (including her knickers drawer) and those old posters of failed rock stars taken down from the walls she screamed blue murder. I hid in the toilet the entire afternoon till Dad drove me out when he started playing the bagpipes.
I wait ten minutes, check the coast is clear, then follow Amber and Caitlin. If I were a moth, Amber would be the bright light that draws me in. I said that to Jay the other day. Jay got kind of cross, and said what if Amber’s the electric kind that zaps you? Jay can be a wet blanket sometimes.
I get to the vert, making sure I’ve got some cover. Amber is gazing at her latest heartthrob (gag, barf, vomit!): tall, dark, and stupid. Yep, a total showoff called Mario. Right now, he’s stair riding but still finds time to toss his slick hair back out of his eyes, like he’s a fashion model, or something. He shoots Amber a sultry look (reiteration time: gag, barf, vomit!).
What. A. Poser.
And stair riding? How hard can that be? If Dork Face can do it, anybody can. Well, anybody except Caitlin, of course. Or Ethan. Given a pole to gnaw on even Mr Freddo could do it.
Dork Face sets up for another go. He leans forward a bit, lets the front skate drop first, then the rear skate, and lands on the rear wheels. His knees and ankles are bent to absorb the shocks. How simple’s that?
I decide to stop hiding, especially as several people at the tram stop are staring at me peering around the corner of a CityWide garbage bin.
‘Hey, guys,’ I call.
Caitlin ignores me and Amber turns, her face glassy.
‘You look cold,’ I say. ‘You wanna cuddle under my jacket?’ I hold it open. C’mon, I’m joking with her. You don’t seriously think I’d expect Amber to lean into me like we’re the best of friends?
‘James,’ she says, ‘if I was freezing to death at the North Pole, I’d sooner cuddle up to a starving polar bear.’
Cool. She likes to cuddle. That’s good to know.
I think of telling her my jacket is Armani but it’s actually third-hand and even when it was new, it was fake.
Mr Show Off skates over to the stair rail and jumps up on it. Down he goes. It’s called a zero spin farside soul. How do I know so much about skating? I hit on all the inline skating sites on the Net. How else can I have a deep and meaningful chat with Caitlin and Amber?
‘Neat grind,’ I say, but Amber’s turned around and doesn’t seem to hear me. I wander over to the vert ramp. ‘Hey, Caitlin.’
She finally turns and eyes me. ‘Yes?’
‘Nothing,’ I say, a little too quickly. For a moment I forgot that we’re not talking. She continues to stare at me for a moment, then looks back as Mr Show Off blades over to them.
I’m close enough now to see that he’s got more zits than the moon has craters. In fact, a couple of them look like craters. He and Amber exchange ‘a look’. My insides cramp. I’m not jealous of their friendship. Much.
Just then a hand taps me on the shoulder.
I let out a squeal, but it’s only Jay.
Jay gives me a long steady look. After a bit, I take a deep breath. I don’t get angry. Can’t. Just never happens. And Jay always manages to calm me down.
‘You all right?’
‘I’m fine,’ I lie, though I am starting to feel a little better.
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