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She’s really come out of her shell.
That’s an expression I’d never liked. It seemed to me that most of the creatures living in shells were the sort
you’d rather have stay in there. Snails. Crabs. Things with stingers. But over the next few weeks I heard people say these words about Miranda over and over again. And they said it like it
was a good thing.

At first Ami and I kept away from Miranda as much as possible. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t still fascinated by what was going on – and not just because focusing on her
distracted me from daydreaming impossible things about Lachlan.

It was hard to believe that the thin, frail, practically mute creature who’d turned up in our classroom a couple of months ago was the same person who now seemed to be everywhere and part
of everything. Miranda was filling out. Her once-baggy uniform was now shorter and fitted perfectly, always casually askew in some Katie-ish way. Her sudden healthfulness hadn’t rubbed off on
Katie, though – just the opposite. Katie had always been too skinny, at least to everyone except herself and her agent. ‘If I can just lose this last kilo,’ she was always telling
me fretfully, ‘my agent says the jobs will come flooding in.’ It didn’t matter how many times I told her it was crazy, she wouldn’t give it up.

Katie’s agent must have been thrilled with her now because the curves – such as they were – had started falling off.

It wasn’t just weight Katie was shedding. Every time I saw Miranda, she had another one of Katie’s possessions. At first it was just small things like hair clips and pens and
magazines. But the things gradually became bigger and more valuable. Her purple earphones. Her favourite scarf. Her iPod. I half-expected her to rock up with Katie’s personal diary –
the one she kept locked with a small silver key. But the biggest shock was the day I spotted Miranda wearing Katie’s earrings. Everyone knew about those earrings because Katie bragged about
them constantly. They were ‘twenty-four-carat white gold’ with a ‘two-carat diamond in each stud’. She only dared to wear them to school because they were insured. No-one
could touch them, not even Paige and Justine. But at assembly one morning, there they were in Miranda’s ears, sparkling and twinkling like stars when she swished her hair to one side. And
that’s where they stayed. Until the night of the formal, of course.

Miranda had become part of the school-formal committee, although whenever I saw them having a meeting it was mainly Katie and Miranda examining the streamer samples while they listened to music
with one purple earphone each. Paige and Justine would sit a little way off, their faces grim, surrounded by uneaten packets of rice crackers and bags of grapes. There seemed to be a protective
barrier forming around Katie and Miranda, and it was becoming harder for people – and snacks – to get through.

Still, I was surprised when the news went around that Justine and Paige were officially no longer friends with Katie. Maybe it was the suddenness. Or the way that no-one seemed to know –
or care about – what had happened. Apparently they’d just failed to measure up in some way.

‘They probably wore the wrong shade of nail polish,’ said Ami. ‘You know. Something unforgivable.’

When Justine was ejected from The Katie and Miranda Show, she just faded into the background. Maybe it was a relief. But it was different with Paige. I suppose I’d always thought that
there wasn’t any real friendship between her and Katie – that Paige was prepared to put up with being Katie’s slave because of the associated benefit. Status. She’d stuck at
it for a long time too, hovering on the edges for months as things soured between me and Katie, and pouncing when my position became vacant. I knew she was thrilled with her promotion, but I never
considered for a minute that Paige might genuinely like and care about Katie.

Yet when Katie deleted her as a friend, Paige seemed devastated. She continued to trail along behind Katie, watching everything she did. Miranda put a stop to that quick smart. The story went
around that there was some big fight and that Paige had refused to go away until Katie herself told her to. Which Katie did – right to her face one lunchtime in front of everyone. I
don’t know what Paige looked like as she walked away – neither Ami or I were there – but I picture her as looking kind of dignified. I do know what she said as she went, though,
because for the rest of the day everyone went around imitating it.

‘I’m really worried about you, Katie. I think she’s trying to
kill
you.’

The imitations were all pretty much the same – using the quavering, emotional voice of someone about to lose control. Some people gave her a speech impediment – saying the
‘r’s like ‘w’s. It was probably exactly how they imitated me when I was in the clinic.

When Paige finally left Katie and Miranda to it, I was relieved. I knew I didn’t have a shred of evidence, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that if she’d resisted, something
would’ve happened to her. Like what had happened to Miss Falippi. Getting in Miranda’s way was starting to seem like a health hazard.

Once Paige was gone, the invisible wall around Miranda and Katie closed up completely. The only other person who was allowed into their space was Cameron. The three of them walked around
everywhere together – the untouchable trio – laughing and acting like they were the only three people in the entire world. The only three that mattered.

One Wednesday afternoon, I brought Toby home from football practice and we found Mum busy frying up what looked like a pan of large, brown erasers.

‘Oh!’ said Toby, glancing at me. ‘Tofu schnitzels.’

I was just as concerned as he was. Mum seemed to think tofu schnitzels were a treat. She only cooked them when she was worried about us. More worried than usual. We needed to tread
carefully.

‘Yummm!’ I said, breathing through my mouth. ‘Can I help?’

‘Just take these over to the table,’ said Mum, sliding the sizzling brown things onto plates and tossing a salad. ‘We’ve all been so busy I thought it’d be nice if
we had a special dinner together.’

I took the plates and we all sat down. ‘Thanks, Mum,’ I said.

‘Yeah, thanks!’ said Toby. His smile was stretched so wide it made my facial muscles ache just looking at him.

I picked up my fork and attempted to spear the schnitzel with it. Looking over at Toby, I was surprised to see that one of his schnitzels had already vanished. Grinning, he pointed to his
bulging pocket. Not such a bad idea. But difficult to do with Mum looking straight at me.

‘So, Olive,’ she said. ‘How’s school? Who are you hanging out with these days?’

I managed to hack off a cube of schnitzel and shove it into my mouth. ‘It’s fine,’ I said, hoping only to answer the first question. I considered mentioning the cops
who’d shown up in home room that morning to inform us that in the weeks to come, they’d be
interviewing each student with regards to some very serious allegations.
But as if Mum
needed another reason to stress.

Her face went pink with relief. ‘I’m so glad,’ she said. ‘So you’re not still spending time with Ami?’

I hated the way Mum said Ami’s name. Like it was in inverted commas or something. Like she still didn’t understand that Ami was the only person in my life who really got me.

Things went quiet then. Toby, perhaps sensing the sudden drop in temperature, put a big piece of schnitzel into his mouth. In the silence I could hear it squeaking between his teeth as he
valiantly attempted to chew it.

‘Ami helps me,’ I said.

Mum kept cutting her food into smaller and smaller pieces. ‘Aren’t there other people you can talk to?’ she said, not meeting my eyes. ‘What about Katie? You girls used
to be so close.’

‘She’s got a new best friend now.’ I didn’t add that the new friend was probably a parasitic shapeshifter who kept stealing her stuff. It seemed a bit dramatic for
dinnertime.

‘Oh. What about the others?’ Mum persisted. ‘You used to have so many friends.’

‘And now I don’t,’ I said, kind of loudly. ‘Now I just have Ami.’

I guess I could have told her about Lachlan, but what would I say exactly?
There’s a guy at school that I sort of like, but I’m too fat and weird to go out with him and
Katie’s probably blabbed to him that I’m crazy, like she did to everyone else.
I don’t think so.

Mum’s cutlery clicked on the plate as she put them down. ‘I don’t like you relying on this
Ami
,’ she said. ‘Honey? I’m worried about you.’

I so didn’t want to be having this conversation. I needed to get away, get some fresh air. Dr Richter was always telling me that exercise would help. My chair scraped across the floor.
‘Thanks for dinner,’ I said flatly, fighting to stop the frustration spilling into my voice. ‘I’m going for a ride.’

It was already getting dark as I headed off, streaking along the road as fast as I could. The streetlights had come on and there was just the faintest light-blue glow over the
horizon. I had a tailwind and it wasn’t long before I’d left Jubilee Park far behind. When I arrived at the intersection near the edge of town, I stopped. The left-hand road soon curved
around and would lead me back into town. The other road followed the coast. My hands began to sweat a little, thinking about the rise and fall of the ocean.

Just keep your eyes on the road,
I told myself.
Forget that the water is out there.
The lights changed and I didn’t move. Being so close to the ocean – especially alone
– was über terrifying, but I knew I wasn’t ready to go back home yet. The frustration was still burbling inside me. I put my head down and headed out along the coast road. I rode
fast, not looking to the sides except for the occasional sideways glance for traffic, trying to funnel the surge of fear into my pedalling.

It was darker now but I didn’t need light to know exactly where I was. In my mind I saw the darkened weekender houses and the closed-for-winter surf shops flash by. The deserted
playgrounds with their stunted trees and scratchy, burr-filled grass. I hadn’t consciously chosen a direction, but I knew where I was heading. To the lookout. The place Dad and I used to ride
to all the time.

The lookout was really just a slight bulge in the road where cars could pull in to photograph the ocean, but it was a long enough ride from our house to make your muscles tingle. It had one of
those signposts with pointers telling you how far it is to London and New York. Like it knew you’d rather be somewhere else. Dad and I would stop there and gaze at the horizon, and I’d
ask him jokingly if that was the end of the world. He’d laugh and say, ‘No, Pet. There’s a lot more world beyond there.’

Riding along here was bringing stuff into my head. Things I usually managed to block out. About Dad. About how bad things had been just before he left. How I’d started sneaking out on
weekends and lying about cutting school. How I was obsessed with looks and boys and manipulating the world – playing people off against each other to get what I wanted. Especially Mum and
Dad. How angry I’d become if I was ever denied anything. I was the kind of girl who caused bad things to happen. The kind of girl who deserved bad things to happen to her in return.

I realised I was gripping the handlebars so tightly that my fingers were burning.

After Dad left, Mum started leaving pamphlets around the house for
kids from breaking homes
. I’d scoffed at them, but I did flick through one, just long enough to see the line about
how
your parents will always love you and their separation is not your fault.
That was either bullshit, or the gods of family breakdown had made an exception for me.

The fact that he’d left because of me was indisputable. I was always the cause of Mum and Dad’s arguments, and then their fights spilled over into money and shitty days at work. So
after the Incident, and after I came out of the clinic, I decided to kill off the old Olive for good. I owed it to what was left of my family to shut up, swallow my meds and not cause any more
trouble.