Faking Sweet (6 page)

‘I've, um, got to check my emails, Mum.'

‘Oh?' For a moment she frowned at me, almost like she'd forgotten where she was. ‘Well, don't forget we're having an early pizza so don't get too caught up gossiping with Miss Calypso. Make sure you tell her I saw Sally. Sally's her favourite too.'

‘I'm not coming to dinner, Mum.'

‘But your father wanted to celebrate our first week in Sydney.'

What was the catch? My father had never suggested celebrating our first week anywhere. He was always too busy ‘settling in'. Probably just as well, or we'd be fat blobs rolling from one pizza parlour to the next.

‘I'm tired Mum, and I've got stacks of Shakespeare to get through.'

‘You're not hiding in English work again, are you?'

She had a point. Usually that was my device for surviving a new school without feeling like the usual no-friends, nowhere-to-go loser.

But this time she couldn't have been more off the mark.

‘Bring me home some pizza,' I called from my bedroom door. ‘No anchovies.'

I shut the door, and for a while leaned against it, the masses of thoughts tumbling through my head.

I scrolled through to Calypso's last text. I couldn't face the others. It said:

Hello! Hello!

‘Hello yourself,' I grumbled.

I kicked off my shoes, laid on my bed and tried to figure out a plan that'd get me out of this disaster without looking like I'd stuffed up again.

Number one, Calypso didn't have to know Scott turned up. That wasn't really breaking the honesty pact. In fact it was only omitting a tiny detail and it was in her interest. Just because Calypso said she was over Scott doesn't mean she actually was.

If Scott had been my boyfriend I would've found a more flattering photo for my bedroom wall. Then, come to think of it, if I looked as good as Calypso did in that photo I would've had it up on my wall too. Calypso thought she looked a bit like Rachel Bilson from
The OC
and she did. But Scott was so much better looking in real life. Anyway what was I doing even thinking about Scott? He was only good looking on the outside. Inside he was a rat.

I sat at the computer, my decision made. Honesty and loyalty. Calypso had every right to expect that from me. After all we were besties and we had a pact. Our friendship was the only thing that mattered.

I went to the fridge, got a Diet Pepsi and flopped onto the couch with
Home and Away
as my company. I dangled my feet over the armrest waiting for Calypso's reply, and wondering if she was watching
Home and Away
too.

There had been no email from Calypso after
Home and Away
, or half an hour after that, or half an hour after that. Not even one on Saturday. No texts either.

I checked MSN a million times. I knew Calypso was still banned but maybe she'd managed to bribe her painful little sister, Tiffany, into not dobbing. She wasn't on. Instead I got chatting to some random Goth who only wanted to discuss her latest blue-black hair dye job, the black skirt she'd bought at some market, and how nobody really understood her. Like, who cares?

There could only be one reason why Calypso hadn't replied. Best case scenario, disappointed. Most likely, pissed off. I wanted to squeeze every pimple on my forehead until they were red and swollen. Why couldn't I just get one thing right?

Mum wanted me to go to the movies. Dad even asked me to go sailing with him. That almost shocked me out of the doldrums. But ‘no' was the only word I could manage.

I couldn't risk being too far from my computer screen and, besides, I felt horrible. Moving and speaking was a chore.

On Sunday, I was still in my pjs from Friday night. Dad kept hassling me, but it's not like I had anything to get dressed for. I looked at the clock. It was 10.13 am, so my phone and I crawled back under the sheets, the stale smells of my bed my only comfort. How could it be thirty-six hours later and still no word from Calypso?

When the ‘beep beep' came it sounded like an explosion. I landed on the floor with the sheet tangled around my feet, the mobile trapped somewhere in the left leg of my pyjama pants.

‘Hang on!' I called out to no one. ‘I'm coming, Calypso.'

Her message read:

This isn't working. C.

‘This isn't working?' I repeated. ‘This isn't working?' What did Calypso mean by that? What wasn't working? Step 3? The plan? Us?

I typed:
What do

Then deleted it.

Don't get it?
Deleted that.

Finally I settled for the safe option.

R u ok?
and pressed ‘reply'.

The number, Calypso's number, the ten digits I knew as well as the fluff in my bellybutton, didn't appear. Instead it showed a different one, but it did look kind of familiar. I could vaguely recall one that ended with 999. I just couldn't remember whose it was. Maybe Calypso was using her mum's phone. I hit ‘send'.

Beep. With one eye shut I peeked at her answer.

Y did u follow her??

So she was pissed off.

U told me 2.
I replied.

This was getting very confusing. Didn't Calypso remember she told me to follow Jess? Didn't she remember that I heard Jess say she was going alone? How did I know Scott was going to turn up? What difference did it make anyway? There she was again protecting Scott when he didn't deserve it. It's not like I would've been nice or friendly to him. Just like I knew Calypso would never be chummy with Joe or Miranda.

Just ring her, I told myself. There's nothing like direct conversation to sort things out. That's what my dad reckons, except when it comes to the home front of course. Then the only direct conversation he likes is him talking while Mum and I listen.

Anyway, I did it. Not straight away though. It took at least twenty minutes of psych up before I could even bring myself to touch the phone, let alone actually ring the number. Especially when I didn't even know whose number I was ringing.

Straight away someone picked up.

‘Yep?' the voice on the other end said. It wasn't Calypso. In fact it sounded like a bloke.

‘Um, who is this?' I asked. ‘I'm after Calypso?'

‘Yeah, well, who are you?' he grunted.

‘Um, Holly. I'm a friend of …'

But the stranger started shouting, ‘Miranda? Miranda! There's someone on your mobile. Miranda? Oi! She's looking for Calypso.'

The phone fell out of my hand. I watched it bounce on the carpet as another voice, a girl's voice,
that
girl's voice, chattered in my bedroom! ‘Hello? Hello? Hello there? Is anyone there? Hello?'

I stumbled down the hallway and into the bathroom. I slid down the wall and onto my knees. The tiles were so cold. I lay on them, face down, staring till my eyes began to water and blur. Of course, the mobile ending with 999 was a number I once saw written on Joe's hand.

What on earth was Calypso doing with Miranda's phone? What on earth was Calypso doing with Miranda?

I got into the shower and turned on the cold, hoping that shock would override the one I'd just had. They say the brain can only recognise one site of pain; like if you burn your hand then whack your foot with a hammer. But I'd just proved that theory wrong. I felt pain everywhere.

It was almost midnight when my mobile rang. But I was still awake. I'd been lying on the bed for hours just staring at nothing. This time it was Calypso's number on the screen.

‘Hello.'

‘Holly?'

‘Hmm.'

‘Are you pissed off with me?'

‘Why would I be, Calypso?'

‘You are mad.'

‘How, how would you feel if …' I couldn't hold it in any longer. ‘If, if you just suddenly had Jess or Scott on your mobile?'

‘Hol, can I get a word in? I'd been at Miranda's 'cause we had to do some dumb Biology project together,' Calypso sighed. ‘You know what a loser I think she is. How can you think I'd do that to you?'

‘It felt really, really bad hearing Miranda's voice.'

‘Did … did you speak to her?'

‘No, I didn't speak to her,' I snapped.

‘Oh.'

‘I'm not that stupid, Calypso. I just heard her pathetic, fluffy voice and it made me feel horrible.'

‘I'm so sorry, Hol.'

‘You know, Calypso, I
should
be asking you if you're pissed off with me.' I was mad and I was on a roll. ‘I didn't hear from you all weekend. I sent you an email …'

‘Our modem or something is busted,' she explained.

‘You could've sent me a text.'

‘I had no battery, Hol. That's why I had to text you from Miranda's phone. Honest. I've been panicking all weekend about you.'

I contemplated reminding her that there was such a thing as a landline phone, but chickened out. I didn't want to risk pissing her off more as there was something important I needed to tell her.

‘Calypso, I've been thinking about, about …' To be honest I hadn't been thinking about it since the Miranda moment, but before that it was all I'd been thinking about. ‘Please don't think I'm piking.' That's what I'd been worrying about. ‘It doesn't mean that I'm not being a good friend.' I was terrified that's what she'd think. ‘But … I'm hopeless at this shoplifting thing.' There, I'd said it. ‘I know you think I am too.'

‘Noooooo,' she almost shrieked. ‘No, no. You're not …'

‘I am.'

‘No! No, you're good.'

‘Calypso.'

‘You've got to do it, Hol. I'm relying on you.'

‘Please don't say that. It makes me feel bad.'

‘But I am.'

‘I can't do it,' I groaned. ‘You were right. It's not working. I guess I just couldn't accept it then.'

Silence.

‘You don't want to do it 'cause you're mad with me about Miranda,' Calypso was almost whispering. ‘That's the real reason, isn't it?'

‘No.' Well, it had made the decision a little easier but I wasn't going to say that. ‘No. It's not.'

‘I'm sorry.' Calypso was sounding like she was about to cry. ‘I, I thought you trusted me. I thought we were best friends. How was I to know doing some dumb project with Miranda would've caused all this fuss, and make you decide you didn't want to do the plan anymore? I, I would've, well, I don't know what I would've done 'cause it's not like I had a choice about who my project partner was going to be. The teacher put us together. I had no say in it. As if I would've picked her. I mean, is that what you think of me?'

‘Um.'

‘It is, isn't it? Hey? It is, isn't it?' Her voice was cracking badly and I felt about one centimetre tall. ‘I thought you trusted me, Hol. I thought we were besties. How could you think I'd have anything to do with Miranda? Not after what she did to you. Remember I do know something about how that feels.'

‘Well, why am I only doing the shoplifting thing?' I blurted. ‘Why don't you let me get Jess and Scott back instead? Please.'

‘No!' Calypso shrieked.

Silence.

‘Look,' I began in a calm voice. How was I going to get out of this without looking like a complete cow? ‘It's not the Miranda thing that's changed my mind. I'm just such a loser at this shoplifting revenge plan. I haven't even got past Step 3 yet.'

‘I thought you did well on Friday. You managed to check out her dressing room. I was going to suggest you were ready for the next step.'

‘You don't have to say that. I know that's not what you really think.'

‘Now you're saying I'm lying?'

‘No!'

‘Then why don't you believe me?'

There was a long pause. Why wouldn't Calypso let me off the hook? I thought she'd say, ‘Hol, it's fine. I understand. Drop the shoplifting plan. It's not worth getting in trouble for.'

Instead I heard, ‘Hol, I think you're ready to slip a few things into her bag. You are so up to the next stage. I wouldn't say that if I didn't mean it.'

No! I wanted to cry. Don't make me!

‘I'm not sure,' I mumbled.

Extricating myself from this was going to be even harder than I planned.

‘I thought we made a pact. As far as I remember you agreed to carry out the revenge plan.' Calypso's voice was clipped. ‘Obviously it didn't mean as much to you.'

‘It did. I mean, it does.'

‘So?'

‘So …?'

‘So how am I supposed to believe that now? Huh, Holly? How?' I could hear Calypso breathing through the phone. ‘I guess the real reason is that you've obviously made new friends in Sydney.' Her voice had changed too. It was almost like a low growl. ‘No, I suppose I don't matter anymore. How could've I been so stupid and told you all those private things?'