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Mum had freaked when she’d seen what we were doing. Had we lost our minds? Did we have any idea how much organic watermelons cost? So many people in the world were starving! But Toby
suddenly burst out laughing and it was, I swear, like the sound of the sun shining. I remember how Mum stood there, staring at him like she was mesmerised. Then, without saying a word, she jumped
in the car and drove off, returning shortly with four more watermelons. Non-organic ones this time.

We hadn’t played kill-the-watermelon for a while, but after Toby’s recent bad night Mum must’ve figured it was time to place another melon on the sacrificial altar.

When I got down the back, Toby was waiting with the two smashing sticks in his hands. He held one out to me. I took it, and we tapped the sticks together three times. Then a bow.

‘Let the smashing begin,’ I said. ‘You first.’

Everyone knew that I no longer did the monthly Friday swim, but I was still expected to turn up at the pool. I suspected that Dr Richter had something to do with that
arrangement, but I didn’t complain. Being near the pool didn’t bother me half as much as being near the ocean did. I was happy to be in the complex, hanging out up the back of the
seats, listening to music or talking with Ami.

Generally no-one bothered me. But that particular Friday, Miss Falippi waved me over as I walked into the swim centre.

‘You’re a timer today,’ she said, looping a stopwatch around my neck. I considered arguing, but Miss Falippi had her determined face on. ‘The other timers are already at
the end of the pool,’ she said. ‘Go and join them, please.’

Jade and Lavinia were deep in conversation, their backs to me as I came over. The third timer was Miranda. It wasn’t surprising. She didn’t exactly seem the athletic sort and I
couldn’t picture her in bathers. It was hard to imagine that she had any body at all inside that baggy uniform. She was surely just bones.

Miranda was standing not far from the edge of the pool, apparently absorbed in watching the reflections on the surface. But as I came closer her eyes lifted. They still made me shiver, just a
little, those pale pupils – even though they didn’t have that mirrored effect I’d seen on the first day.

‘Is your friend here today?’ she asked. Her voice wasn’t so flat and boring this time. She sounded curious.

‘What friend?’ I said.

‘You know,’ said Miranda. ‘The one you’re always talking to. What’s her name again?’

It was none of her business, of course, but I found myself answering anyway. Maybe I was thrown by her speaking to me directly.

‘Ami.’

Miranda nodded, like she’d already known. ‘So,’ she said, finger on her chin. ‘These days you’re friends with Ami. But you used to be friends with Katie
Clarke.’

‘Who told you that?’ I said sharply.

‘No-one. It’s obvious if you pay attention,’ said Miranda. ‘You hate each other now though, that’s pretty clear. But you don’t seem to care. Funny. I’m
not sure if that makes you strong or pathetic.’

I felt a sudden flare of annoyance – bright and hot. Who the hell did she think she was, asking such personal questions? Passing judgement like that? Then I imagined Dr Richter waggling
her finger at me.
Control that temper, Olive
.

So – a deep breath, and a quick change of topic. ‘Not swimming today?’

For a moment I thought she might ignore the question. But eventually her lips parted. ‘I suffer from dermatitis.’

I had a flash of how strange her skin had looked flecked with rain the other night. Like she’d slathered it all with a heavy foundation. Today she was wearing her jumper, even though the
swim centre was stiflingly hot. But I could see her hands. They looked papery and dry. Flaky.

As I was looking, Miranda tugged up her jumper sleeve and I saw that she’d tied a thread around her wrist – just like the one Katie wore. Katie and I had started wearing them years
ago, when we were little, and I could hardly believe Katie still had hers. Why Miranda would want to copy Katie was beyond me, but I knew it was a thin, pink death sentence.

‘You’d better get rid of that,’ I said.

Miranda shook her wrist, making the thread even more visible. ‘Why?’ she said. Her voice sounded different. Like someone who wanted to be heard.

‘Because,’ I explained, ‘if Katie sees you wearing it, she’ll probably remove both the thread and your throat with her teeth.’

Miranda shook her hair. It had a shine to it that I hadn’t noticed before. ‘Do I look like I care?’ she said scornfully. ‘I mean, seriously!’

I shrugged. Turned away. Miranda could make her own mistakes.

The first race was called – boys’ 100-metres freestyle – and the competitors began shedding tracksuits and lining up at the end of the pool. We timers stood at the end of a
lane each. Miranda was in front of lane one. I was next to her. People up in the stands started calling out. Cheering. Whistling.

Ami had turned up by then. ‘So who’s going to win?’ she said. ‘Or don’t you do that anymore?’

‘I still do it,’ I said, turning slightly so that Miranda wouldn’t see me talking. She already knew too much about me. I scanned the row of swimmers, stretching and
wind-milling their arms on the blocks. ‘Well, Joshua Bauer won’t win,’ I said. ‘Obviously. And not Aaron either.’

‘How about Cameron?’ asked Ami. ‘He’s pretty fast.’

‘True. But he has no focus,’ I said. ‘Look at him. He’s way too busy showing off his hot bod to Katie to win. And Tyler is always slow off the blocks. So that just leaves
the guy in my lane.’

‘That’s Lachlan Ford,’ said Ami. ‘Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed him.’

I summoned up the haughtiness of a queen. ‘What does that freakin well mean?’ The haughtiness of a queen, but maybe not the vocabulary.

Ami’s eyeballs did an exaggerated loop. ‘Come off it. Every girl at school has noticed him.’

The memory of his smile flashed into my mind. A beautiful smile, even though I’d sensed the cruelty behind it. ‘He’s going to win,’ I said. ‘He’s got winner
hands.’

‘Which are …?’

‘The sort that like to hold up trophies and punch the air.’

We watched as Lachlan casually bent his arms behind his head, interlocking his fingers and stretching. Next he pressed each leg, one by one, up to his chest. A streak of light fell across his
shoulders, making his hair and face glow.

‘He’s lush,’ murmured Ami. ‘Admit it.’

But I wasn’t admitting to anything. Especially not the fluttering in my stomach. ‘He looks like someone who likes winking,’ I said. ‘And you know how I feel about
winkers.’

Ami studied my face for a moment. Then she smiled with just one corner of her mouth.

‘What?’ I said.

‘I’ve just realised,’ said Ami. ‘You’re scared of guys.’

I laughed loudly. ‘Ah … I have a brother, remember?’

‘That’s different,’ said Ami. ‘You find something wrong with every boy I’ve ever pointed out to you.’

‘That’s not because I’m scared
,
’ I said quickly. ‘It’s because your taste is so
shtinky.
’

Ami folded her arms. ‘OK then, oh Glorious Princess of the Alternative. You tell me who
you
think is lush.’

Easy. I’d worked on this list a lot. ‘Dallas from Luxe. Kurt Cobain, Jeff Buckley, Holden Caulfield.’

I stopped when I saw the look on Ami’s face. Oh yeah. Two of my crushes were dead. One was fictitious. And the only guy who was both alive and real was someone I realistically had no
chance of meeting, no matter what I secretly, desperately hoped. Because why would Luxe ever come to a dump like Jubilee Park?

‘On your marks …’

I clicked my stopwatch just as the starter pistol fired. As the swimmers began churning their way down the pool, the yelling and cheering ramped up. By the time they were shooting towards the
timers on their last lap, the screaming had reached deafening levels.

I stood there with my thumb poised over the stopwatch. Lachlan won easily. As he climbed out and reached for his towel, I had an idea. A way of proving Ami wrong. I glanced meaningfully at her
before marching over to Lachlan and sticking out my hand.

‘Nice work,’ I said.

He looked surprised, but he took my hand. Shook it.

‘Best time so far,’ I continued.

‘Thanks. But that was the first trial.’

‘True,’ I said. ‘But still. I get the feeling you’ve done this before.’

Lachlan laughed. I’d expected him to have one of those meaty, fake laughs that boys like Lachlan usually have. But his laugh wasn’t too bad. For a sports-crazed
dummkopf
. Then
he went and spoke.

‘Once or twice,’ he said. ‘I’m a lifesaver.’

I opened my eyes wide. ‘Really?’ I said. ‘How very not predictable.’

By then I figured I’d proven my point to Ami, and turned to walk off. But Lachlan kept talking. ‘I don’t think we’ve met yet,’ he said. ‘Not properly at
least. I mean, I know who you are. You’re Olive Corbett.’ He was speaking quickly – tripping a bit on his words – and his face had gone a little red.

He’s probably on steroids or something,
I thought. ‘Well, now we’ve met,’ I said. ‘Properly. So. I’ve got to go.’ I showed him my stopwatch.
‘Official timing duties to perform.’

‘Hang on,’ he said. ‘There’s a few minutes before the next race. I just want to know a bit about you. About who you are.’

Of course I instantly knew what was going on. He’d been put up to this. Dared – probably by Cameron Glover, who obviously still hadn’t forgiven me.

‘Why don’t you ask someone, then?’ I said. ‘I’m sure anyone at Jubilee Park High would be more than happy to tell you everything you’d like to know about
me.’ I said it loudly, hoping it would reach the ears of whoever was hiding nearby, listening and laughing.

Lachlan shook his head. ‘I don’t want to hear someone else’s version of you,’ he said. ‘I want to hear yours.’

The funny thing was, it seemed like he meant it. I wasn’t fooled though, no matter how genuine he managed to sound. I crossed my arms. ‘Why?’ I said. ‘Why the hell would
you
want to know about
me
?’ I stood there, waiting for the whole stupid charade to fall apart.

‘I don’t know,’ said Lachlan, shrugging. ‘You’re so … mysterious. Different. To everyone else here, I mean.’

I snorted. Talk about stating the obvious. ‘So, you’re a detective as well as a lifesaver then?’

Lachlan didn’t seem to notice my sarcasm. ‘You keep to yourself a lot,’ he continued. ‘But you didn’t always, did you? I’ve seen the school blog – you
used to be on it almost every day. You and Katie Clarke.’

‘You should stay away from that blog,’ I said, grimacing. ‘It’ll rot your brain.’

‘I didn’t recognise you at first,’ said Lachlan. ‘You look so different now. Your hair, I guess. But you’re also much more …’ His eyes swept across me and
it was suddenly like I was standing there in bathers, not him. I felt horribly exposed. Actually, I just felt horrible.

Lachlan coughed and looked away – like I was too hideous to look at anymore. ‘I guess I’m curious,’ he said. ‘What happened?’

I felt a burn of irritation. All these personal questions. First Miranda. Now this guy. All this snooping around, pulling up stuff I wanted to forget. I fixed Lachlan with the sort of look that
in ancient Greece would’ve turned him instantly to stone.

‘I guess I got more picky about who I mix with,’ I said frostily.

Lachlan stepped back, like he was steadying himself after a push.
Good,
I thought, pleased that I’d caused him at least one moment of discomfort. Except a second later I realised it
wasn’t me that had made him react that way. He was looking at someone over my shoulder.

‘Oh no,’ he muttered. ‘Not her again.’

I turned to see who he meant and started laughing. ‘No guy has ever said
not her again
about Katie Courtney Clarke!’ I said. ‘Especially not when she’s swishing
her way towards them in her bathers.’

Drips of pool-water ran down Lachlan’s face. ‘She’s trying to set me up with one of her friends.’

‘Ooh,’ I said, clasping my hands together. ‘You
are
lucky.’

Lachlan wore the same panicked expression I’d seen on Ralph when he thought I’d forgotten about his walk. ‘I have trouble telling those girls apart,’ he said. ‘They
all look the same.’

‘That’s awkward,’ I said sympathetically.

‘Hey, Lachie,’ Katie said, positioning herself in front of him and blocking me out completely.

‘Your back certainly is lovely,’ I said.

Katie didn’t seem to hear. ‘Come and sit with us,’ she said to Lachlan. ‘Paige has saved you a space.’

‘Ah,’ said Lachlan, retying his towel like that would somehow protect him. ‘I –’

‘He’s busy helping me with something,’ I heard myself say. Not to help out Lachlan, though. It was strictly a Katie-tease.

Katie turned slowly. ‘Helping you with what, exactly?’

I took off the stopwatch and dropped it on the concrete floor. The screen shattered. ‘Busted stopwatch,’ I said.

Lachlan’s shoulders started doing these uppy-downy movements and I realised that he was trying not to laugh. He bent down and picked up the watch, shaking his head. ‘This thing is
really
stuffed,’ he said.