Friendship on Fire (57 page)

‘And now that you're full and happy it's time for the dance you've all been waiting for.'

We groaned as a collective and Kelly put her hands on her hips. ‘Shame on you. All this practice and you're still sooking about it? Well too bad. I for one want to see you stepping on each other's toes. Long live tradition,' she screamed.

It was the one part of the night I was guaranteed to dread. Because St Dominic's is so old, we have to retain tradition by learning a dance to perform as one group on the night. We'd been practising for six weeks and our teacher nearly gave up on us. Now, lined up in rows facing each other boy-girl boy-girl, I smiled weakly as I rearranged my mask and faced Ethan, our masks now camouflaging our once clear appearance. In my head I prepared for the imminent apology I would need to give him and all the boys I danced with, for stepping on their toes.

Classical music filled my ears as I desperately tried to keep count of the music, having lost the timing immediately. I loved music, but I was useless at keeping any sort of time. Nervously I watched those around me for the cue that proved I was stuffing up the dance already. Ethan smiled back at me, hinting at me to relax.

I recognised the introduction beat and spread my arms wide accordingly. Then I curtsied to Ethan, who stretched out his hand to invite me to dance. I stepped forward to meet him and he immediately spun me around using my hand above my head, while his other arm was neatly tucked behind his back. I giggled. This was much more fun than practice.

We stepped together in uncomplicated dance patterns and he led me with a mixture of a secure hand on the base of my back and our hands clasped together in front of us. His browny auburn hair shone almost orange in the lights as he smiled at me politely and bowed to me in thanks for the dance a few minutes later.

He steadily stepped to the right and met his new partner and we began the whole scenario again.

Still trying to keep up, I greeted my new partner with a nod and a curtsy and stepped forward to be claimed by his eager hand. I didn't know this guy very well, barely recognising him with the mask on, so I kept my steps simple and the safe distance of about a pillow between our chests.

Despite the fact that I'd somehow got into a different row to my girlfriends, I was enjoying myself. I realised I didn't have to pretend. I didn't really care what they thought.

The routine became natural by the time I greeted my seventh partner. I was so in the habit of starting the dance without talking to the person I was dancing with that I at first didn't recognise him.

After the first twist, I was pulled firmly up against new boy's chest, where I caught a strong whiff of cologne mixed with warm skin. I recognised that smell. It was the same smell as at Nate's birthday party on the beach. It was the same smell I smelt every time my best friend gave me a hug the last six years.

I bit my lip and kept dancing, hoping he wouldn't say anything and ruin our dance as strangers.

How did Roman get over this side of the dance floor? More to the point, how did I not notice Roman getting over this side? I guess all the boys are wearing black suits.

Did he know it was me? Of course he would. I was the only one wearing this colour dress in the room.

‘Daisy,' he finally said, voice low.

He held me by my arms; this was the waltz part of the dance.

‘Do you remember the time you stayed with us one long weekend in year eight and we were fighting over some lollies? I was eating them all so you chased me around the block until you sprained your ankle.'

‘Of course I remember,' I replied quietly.
I hated you for it.

‘I felt so bad that I carried you home and let you eat the rest of the lollies.'

I stifled a giggle into his shoulder and nodded.

‘Sometimes I can be selfish. I can hurt people I care about without meaning to. But I always come good and realise my mistakes. It takes time,' he said without looking directly into my eyes.

‘Everyone can be selfish,' I murmured in reply.

‘By the way, you look gorgeous tonight,' he said and stepped to the side to greet his last partner.

Before I could respond my last partner was waving at me from his side of the floor and I nodded in apology and stepped back to my line. I didn't even get a chance to tell Roman he looked gorgeous too.

And what did that mean? Anyone could tell someone they looked gorgeous. I wanted to know what that meant to him.

The awards part of the ceremony was next and the end of the night was nigh. We stood in a giant group on the dance floor while King and Queen of the ball were announced, as well as other silly awards from the antics of the past year. I didn't win any of the awards, but I didn't mind either. I wasn't the kind of person who needed that for affirmation. I have to admit though, secretly I was happy that Skye and the Blonde Brigade didn't win anything. Whoever was on the voting committee had their eyes open.

The boys offered to take us in their cars to the after-party, as they hadn't been drinking as much as we had. Roman said he would take his car and James would take his. Like a typical, confused fool, I stood between the two parked cars completely undecided about which one I should go in. It was like I needed to know Roman wanted me in his car with him. I didn't want to jump in and take over. He had to show me he wanted me around him again.

Sarah wound down her window and called, ‘Daisy. You're the last to get in a car. Hurry up or you're walking.'

‘Is there room on the back seat for me?' I asked her quietly.

‘I'll make some for you,' she grinned and dragged me into Roman's car.

Roman was a great driver. His eyes were always on the road, he didn't drive dangerously and I bet he wouldn't constantly distract me while I was trying to drive.

The after-party was situated on a farm property; at someone's house I didn't know. I wanted to leave as soon as I arrived. It wasn't that it wouldn't be fun. It wasn't that I didn't have good friends there to hang out with. I think the reason I wanted to leave lay in the simple fact that the last party I went to with these people resulted in my heart being broken. I was tired, my feet hurt and Roman was so changeable I couldn't take it anymore.

Even greater was the desire to be alone with my thoughts.

At around midnight I escaped the noise of the house and sought some fresh air on the front kerb. Staring peacefully up into the street lights, I was disturbed only by the sound of crunching grass behind me and the party security guard put his fat, strong hand on my shoulder and asked if I was all right. I nodded and he left me to return to the front door.

Alone in my thoughts, I began to wonder how Roman could give me pieces of kindness and hope, then appear to take it away by ignoring me at our biggest party of the year.

Not that you are seeking him out
, my inner voice said.

I've tried that,
I hissed back at myself.

Did that mean I had a right to give up?

‘Hey, loser,' a familiar voice spoke sharply behind me.

I didn't turn around to defend myself. I didn't even jump at the company. I already knew who it was.

Skye sat down roughly next to me and rubbed her nose ungracefully with her wrist. She stank of alcohol and smoke and appeared upset.

‘Skye,' I said quietly and nodded to her.

‘El Capitano,' she giggled back and patted the concrete with her fist. ‘Mind if I join you on this kerb of yours?'

‘You already have.' So what, did she want to be friends now that we're finishing school?

‘Do you want to know what I'll miss most about school?'

she asked loudly as she turned to face me, eyes blinking in front of mine.

‘I'm sure you're going to tell me,' I replied, picking at tufts of grass out of the cracks in the pavement.

‘You and Roman.'

I rolled my eyes, ready to defend myself.

‘Prancing around each other for years, acting all innocent.'

‘Can we not do this?' I asked, but she wasn't listening.

‘Be glad you have a guy like him to fall back on.'

‘He's not my fall back guy, Skye.'

Why am I still talking to her?

‘Don't treat me like I'm stupid. I'm not stupid, Daisy,' she replied slowly, using my real name for once. ‘It gets me more attention if I act like it.'

‘So … be yourself.'

Her head was shaking again furiously. ‘I can't now. It's too late.'

‘How is it ever too late to be yourself?' My eyebrows knit together at her swaying form.

‘I'm being punished for not doing it sooner.'

This wasn't going anywhere.

‘You're drunk. Maybe I should call a taxi and get you sent home. Although, you've never made sense to me.'

‘Don't call anyone. They can't help me.'

‘Would you stop the cryptic comments? Either tell me what you came to see me for, or get lost.'

I stopped after the last two words and bit my lip. She hadn't made any rude comments to me; the only thing she did wrong was sit next to me and talk truth like a typical drunk. I immediately regretted the way I spoke to her and, without particularly wanting to, but knowing I needed to, I began to apologise.

‘Skye, listen, I'm …'

‘Yeah I know. You're just like everyone else … sorry.'

Heaving herself on to both feet and spreading her arms wide like she was about to fly, she gingerly took five steps on to the road before tripping over her heel and landing face first on the bitumen.

I got up instinctively to check on her, see if she was hurt. No car lights were approaching. I half expected her to burst into tears and show me where her face grazes hurt, blaming me for everything wrong in her life.

Instead, to my surprise and distress, she began to laugh. Starting as a low, gurgling sound in the pit of her stomach, her insane laugh worked its way up her throat until she was screaming with laughter.

‘Hey,' I said with unveiled uncertainty, ‘we need to get you off this road.'

As I knelt on the bitumen to check for injuries and help her up, she suddenly turned wild, slapping my hands away in a frenzy of hostility. Her overreaction led to her striking me in the face, right across my left cheekbone.

Stunned, I held one hand to my face and fell back on to my bum on the road, blinking in a daze.

‘Now look what you did,' she said, pointing to the security guard who was staring at her from the property and speaking on his two-way radio. He looked like he was calling for assistance for the two psycho girls having a bitch fight and sitting in the middle of the street.

‘I know you never liked me, but I didn't think you'd hit me,' I said, neither angry nor upset, merely stunned.

‘I didn't think I'd be a teenage statistic, either, but here we are.'

Her blonde hair fell loosely in sweaty waves now, instead of spaghetti straight, around her face and shoulders. She had a fever and I still had no idea what she was talking about, so I said nothing. This made her angrier. She obviously wanted me to know.

‘Say something you stupid cow. Tell me I look fat, and that I deserved it, and that my life is ruined now.'

‘I would if I knew why I was saying it,' I glared back at her.

The security guard and his new friend were trotting towards us and Skye began giggling again.

‘If there's something going on, there are people you can talk to,' I said, wanting to help her now, before the men came to take her away and send her home.

‘Talking,' she screamed. ‘Yes, talking is how I got myself into this mess. Talking,' she repeated over and over.

‘I don't know how I can help you,' I said urgently.

‘Guess what,' she whispered dangerously. ‘You can't. I'm pregnant.'

Her eyes pierced mine with pure sadness and fear. In a split second, her show was on again for the men and they carried her little, ranting body into the house to sober up before a taxi arrived.

Skye pregnant? And drunk? What was happening to all of us?

Dad was coming to pick me up from the party soon and my head pounded with exhaustion and worry as my friends tried all sorts of bribery to get me to stay just a little longer. One more hour. Besides, they argued, they weren't finished forcing Roman and me to interact. I glared at them.

I couldn't stay. Not knowing what I had just found out about Skye. Not knowing that I couldn't have Roman.

From what I could tell, Skye and I were in a similar situation. Without the baby, of course. We both wanted something we couldn't have. Something that would make us feel like ourselves again.

Will I ever find anyone? Will she?

Will anything ever be smooth, and easy? For her or me?

I had found her again just before Dad arrived, crying in the corner of a dark room in the front of the house. I rubbed her matted hair as she repeated, over and over, ‘It was never supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be easy.'

I still had no idea what she was talking about, directly. Who had knocked her up? Who should her life have been easy with?

Irony swept over me as I remembered thinking around nine months ago that Roman was too ‘easy' for me. That he wouldn't put up much of a fight, a challenge. How wrong I was about him. How foolish had I been? He was the biggest challenge of all and now that I couldn't ‘have' him, I supposedly wanted him. If I got pregnant by Roman, say, I would be one hundred per cent sure he would support me. Who did Skye have who she was ‘easy' with?

I didn't know she had a boyfriend, or was seeing someone exclusively. Chances are she wasn't and it was one of the Addison Grammar boy's babies. Surely not Nate's?

My mind began to wander. How far along she was, what her parents would say, what the Brigade or Grammar crew would say, if they didn't know already. What her plans were after school. Whether she would choose to keep the baby or not. Whether she was equipped to be a good mum at eighteen, drinking and partying as she did.