her a few times over the past year. It should gross her out, but it didn’t.
The sound of feet slapping against the concrete, a moment of stretched silence and then the surface of the water exploded as Lizzie cannon-bombed. She came up for air giggling madly, her wet hair plastered over her face.
“I almost got you!”
“You’re such an idiot.” Bec laughed, trying to dunk her back under the water. Lizzie grabbed her waist and they screeched and cackled as they attempted to wrestle, slippery limbs like eels tangling together. Bec dunked Lizzie hard and she came up spluttering.
“Truce?”
Lizzie held out her pinkie finger, still coughing. They gripped pinkies and Bec swam quickly out of the way before Lizzie changed her mind. Bec leaned over the tiled edge of the pool, getting her breath back. She wished this was her house and Lizzie was her sister, although they looked nothing alike. While Bec was lean and relatively flat-chested, Lizzie’s body was all soft and curvy in the right places. Sometimes when Lizzie put on red lipstick Bec thought that her best friend looked just like Marilyn Monroe, but she never told her.
“Oh, now my head is spinning again.” Droplets of water clung from Lizzie’s eyelashes as she stared intently at Bec.
“It’s your own fault.” Bec rested her head on her arm. Her hangover was slipping away. The dizziness was gone and her stomach was beginning to calm.
“Last night was awesome, wasn’t it?” A dangerous little smile crept over Bec’s face as she said it. Lizzie didn’t even know the best bits.
“We’re so lucky.” Lizzie sighed and pushed herself off the edge. “You’d better go, dude. You’re going to get in the shit with Ellen.”
“Crap! What time is it?” Bec pulled herself out of the pool, the baked concrete searing her bare feet as she hopped toward the lounge room. She grabbed her phone off the kitchen bench. It was two thirty; she would only just make it if she hurried. She had an SMS. It was from him. Just woke up. Always have the most amazing nights with you.
Bec was glad Lizzie wasn’t there to see the goofy smile that plastered her face as she ran up the stairs to grab her work clothes. The message ran over and over in her head. It must mean he liked her. She was sure now. She slammed into Lizzie’s brother, Jack, on the landing. His door was open and the grinding sounds of his metal music pumped from his bedroom. He had put a hand out instinctively; it felt hot on her lower back. For a quarter of a second they were so close it was like they were embracing; she could feel his breath, smell his smell. He jerked his hand away.
“Sorry!”
He looked awkwardly at the floor, his face colouring. She realized suddenly she was basically naked and gave a little shriek of laughter as she ran into Lizzie’s room. Pulling off her bikini, she left it a wet green lump on the carpet and put her work uniform on. It stank of deep-fryer oil and stuck to her wet skin. She wished she’d given herself time to have a shower and wash her hair. Bec would usually never go anywhere without straightening it. Grabbing her makeup bag, she smudged on her concealer, smeared on the thick foundation, blush on top, then mascara. She liked to wear liquid eyeliner these days, too, but it was too easy to muck up if she was in a hurry. She’d gone to school looking like a panda once and never wanted to repeat the experience. Pulling on her ballet flats as she walked, she grabbed her bag and took the stairs down two at a time.
“See ya, bitch!” she called to Lizzie, who stuck her middle finger up from the swimming pool.
The gate banged shut behind her as she rushed down the street. It was now 2:43 p.m. She should make it. Her pace slowed. It was too hot to run. The air felt heavy, pushing her down into the road. This was a stinker of a summer. Day after day of over forty degrees. She ran her fingers through her hair; it was almost dry already. Hopefully it wouldn’t frizz.
Sunday was his day off. She wished he was going to be there anyway. They could compare hangovers, rehash the events of last night and laugh. Her thumbs flashed across the keypad: On my way to work now. Boo, wish you were there :). Reading over it again and again, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t want to be too obvious, although she’d read in a magazine once that obvious was good. You have to give them the confidence to make a move. The smiley face had to go, she decided; it was too childish. Her finger hesitated over the send button, her heart racing. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to push it. The private little smile crept over her face again and Bec wondered if Lizzie had any idea. She liked having this secret. It felt dangerous, like playing with fire.
For a moment the other secret leapt into her mind. The memory of it was like red-hot metal, searing and violent. She tried to push it back down; she shouldn’t be thinking about that.
Gum leaves crunched under her feet as she turned the corner onto the main road. The smell of baking eucalypt was pungent. It made her eyes water. The leaves were crisp and black around the edges, like the heat in the air had burnt them. For a second she wondered if she might vomit, if last night’s beer was going to make a reappearance after all. She stopped walking and held on to a branch to steady herself, squeezing her eyes shut.
Last night had been fun; it was worth feeling a bit sick today. The best nights out always happened by surprise. She’d been closing up. Mopping the floors and washing out the deep fryer with two fingers pinching her nose. Matty was doing the grill. His thick fingers were black from the grease. She didn’t understand why he never wore gloves. She used to be a bit scared of Matty, with his hulking frame and tattooed arms, but then she realized he was one of the sweetest men she’d ever met. More like a teddy bear than a biker.
“I’m meeting Ellen and Luke at the pub after this. Do you want to come?”
“Do you reckon we can sneak Lizzie in, too?” He’d said yes, but she would have gone even if he hadn’t.
The five of them played pool, Matty and Luke taking it in turns and buying her pots of beer. She hated beer, but didn’t want to ask for cider; she loved feeling like one of the boys. The pub was dark and smelt musky. When she’d opened the doors to the toilets, she saw her own dilated pupils in the mirror, before they responded to the bright fluorescents. She’d smeared on a bit more makeup, wishing she’d brought something to change into. But she hadn’t let that spoil the night.
Bec had tried not to stare at Luke. But she was willing him to come over, to get closer. Eventually she sat a game out and so did he.
“How are you going, mate?” She loved it when he called her that, as if they were complete equals. She hated nothing more than being treated like a little girl.
When he sat next to her, she could feel the radiating heat of his body. They made smutty jokes as they watched the others play; she lit up when she managed to make him laugh. He told her secrets. She listened. She wished he would kiss her. He didn’t. But he took her hand once and squeezed it, his eyes staring at her intensely. He didn’t have to say anything; she could guess what he was thinking. She was too young. When they were working late one night he’d told her that a friend of his had a rule. You could date someone half your age, plus seven years. Any younger than that was wrong.
“So, when do you turn seventeen?” he’d said, like it was a joke. It had been three months away then. Only one now. She would just have to be patient.
Bec’s foundation was starting to melt off. She pushed herself to walk a little faster. McDonald’s had air conditioning. Not that it helped much in the drive-through. Fingers crossed she was just at the main counter today. Then she felt it again, that prickling feeling. She turned.
