Surf School (11 page)

Shafts of light grew towards her through the side windows and as the afternoon faded, so did Tilly's energy. Her body drooped, a deep aching tiredness fanning along her limbs. She dragged herself onto the sofa, eyes closed, ragged breaths slowly getting longer, deeper as the afternoon sounds filtered through in muffled bursts: a car backfiring down the street, the beep of her mobile, the sound of a board being placed against the wall and the swish of water as someone rinsed their feet.

She ignored the gentle knock on the door and the side window sliding open. She kept her eyes shut as Sam shuffled through the window and landed inside with a soft thud and grunt. She slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The late afternoon surf rolled in. Big. Explosive. Clean.

Marlee studied it, memorising the waves peeling off the banks, looking for the best take-off point, where to paddle out, rogue waves. She worked through her usual mental check
list as she squeezed her head through the tight opening of her rashie.

‘How's it going? I've been thinking about you. You okay?' Kyle pushed the nose of his board into the sand beside her, stretching his arms upwards and leaning first one way, then the other.

At the sound of his voice Marlee's stomach went to wash and she took her time pulling down her shirt.

‘Really? I'm fine,' she said, a little shy.

Marlee had thought of nothing else since the day of the rip. She recalled the soft look on Kyle's face when he'd helped her in the surf and wondered yet again if he'd have kissed her if she hadn't pulled away. But now that he was standing beside her she felt foolish, like she was imagining it all.

‘Better than Tuesday,' she managed to say.

Kyle didn't answer, absorbed by the next set shaping up and Marlee felt sure it had all been a mistake. But when she finally looked at Kyle, he was watching her.

‘Sorry about my old man. I talked to him about it last night.' Kyle laughed in disbelief. ‘He thought we were ignoring those kids. He had no idea you'd helped them in.'

‘I know.' Marlee's voice caught in her throat. ‘He told Tilly that too.'

‘Well have you told her what really happened?'

Marlee turned back to the surf, eyes squeezed together against the bright sun, a hand shading her eyes as she thought about Tilly's letter. She wanted to say more, explain to Kyle about the letter but anger bunched up in her throat. She shook her head.

‘I'll go and talk to her,' said Kyle.

‘No. I can sort this out myself.' Marlee swallowed hard, caught his arm. ‘Thanks again.'

‘What for?'

‘Well, not letting me drown, for one thing,' she laughed nervously.

Kyle shrugged it off. ‘I was hardly going to let that happen. Anyone would have done the same thing.' He stared at her like he had more to say and Marlee shifted uncomfortably, beginning to stretch her legs, one by one.

‘I'm scared I'm going to get a cramp again.' She bit her bottom lip, and bent to attach her leg strap. Her legs felt light, useless, and she pushed down the fear surging in her stomach.

‘You'll be fine. Best thing is to get back out there.' Kyle smiled reassuringly. Marlee nodded, following him down to the shallows.

As soon as she hit the water Marlee's spirits soared. This wasn't the same ocean she feared moments ago. As the water lapped around her she felt alive.

Kyle flipped his board over to wet the deck, then called out to Marlee, who'd already started paddling, ‘Hey, wait up.'

‘Paddle faster, loser,' she joked, but then slowed slightly so he could catch up.

They paddled at an easy pace, a companionable silence between them, ignoring the curious glances from other locals. ‘Wanna get something to eat after?' said Kyle.

‘Sure. I'm starving,' Marlee said, ignoring the stitch in her side and pushing herself to keep in front. ‘But there's one
condition.' She cut in front of Kyle so he yelped, and yanked his board out of the way. ‘Well, two: I get the first wave and no hassling.'

He grabbed Marlee's leg, pulling himself alongside her and Marlee held onto the rails so she wouldn't slide off.

‘Deal,' he smiled. ‘So long as you get out the back first.' Then he took off, paddling fast. Marlee duck-dived the wave in front of her, pushing her arms deep through the water and gradually closed in on Kyle. He glanced over his shoulder and laughed but she quickly lined up and charged the first wave while he was still distracted.

The first thing Tilly felt was a handful of fur. She flattened her hand across a broad neck and followed it down to a pearl collar. She smiled, then said sleepily, ‘Hello, Marnie.'

Marnie's tongue lolled out happily and she shuffled her front paws forwards so Tilly could pat her head, her tongue returning the hello with a friendly swipe across Tilly's cheek.

The rich fruity smell of hot olive oil wafted into the lounge room, followed by the sizzle of onions and garlic, a smell so rich and enticing that Tilly's stomach rumbled, loud and insistent. After days of pizza she'd almost forgotten food could smell so tantalising. She bounded off the couch then stopped at the door, confused.

‘Oh, hi, Jamie,' Tilly paused. Of all Sam's friends she knew Jamie the least. He barely said a word to Tilly. He was always hanging back watching what was going on. It was only since he'd been mooning after Pink that she'd even noticed him. He
stood at the kitchen bench, T-shirt hanging out of his jeans pocket, tea towel over his bare shoulder, scraping chopped ginger into the wok. Tilly stopped at the kitchen door rubbing her eyes.

‘Was that you who came through the window before? I thought it was Sam.'

‘Yeah, hope you don't mind. The door was locked.' Jamie grinned apologetically, stirring in shallots.

Another rumble echoed loudly from Tilly's stomach and she laughed, embarrassed. ‘Mind! You kidding. That smells unreal. And prawns!' She watched him throw the prawns into the pan, drooling as they turned a rich pink before her eyes. ‘They're my all-time favourite. This must have cost you a fortune.'

‘It's only a stir-fry, pretty basic really, and my dad owns a fish shop, so no big deal about the prawns.' He laughed selfconsciously, tossing hot noodles into the wok, moving around the kitchen with the grace of a dancer. Tilly jumped onto the bench alongside as Jamie pulled the wok off the heat, throwing in bean shoots, and sprinkling crushed peanuts, chopped mint and coriander over the top.

‘That looks like something out of a food magazine. I never knew you could cook.' Tilly realised that she didn't really know anything about Jamie except that he played Xbox, was a cool surfer, a better skateboarder, had soft brown eyes, and that he must spend hours shaping those thin sideburns down the edge of his cheek bones. She'd never really noticed that he was cute either and wondered again why Pink wasn't nicer to him.

Jamie flicked his fringe back, slightly embarrassed. ‘Mum showed me how to cook a dish so she'd get a break from cooking and it sort of went from there. Now she complains that she never gets to cook!'

Tilly quickly found bowls, glasses, juice, even folded a couple of paper napkins, setting everything on the table before toasting him with her orange juice.

‘Well, please feel free to cook here any time.'

She held the bowls out while Jamie spooned in the stir-fry, garnishing each with extra chopped coriander. ‘I've tried to cook but nothing ever works out. Would you show me how?'

‘Yeah, sure. It's not that hard really.'

Tilly didn't speak again until her bowl was half empty. She smiled at Jamie gratefully.

‘Starving,' she muttered, and kept eating until the noodles were gone and she got up for seconds.

‘I'm sorry about this afternoon,' Tilly said sitting back down. ‘I don't know what's up with me. I keep losing it. I don't mean to, but something happens and I just explode.'

Jamie had hardly touched his food. He pushed the prawns around his bowl and Tilly was sure he hadn't heard a word but just as she forked in another huge mouthful he pushed himself upright, looking directly at her. ‘You were right. We do hang around your place all the time. We won't any more though. Gordo's is the new hang this week.'

Tilly glanced up from her bowl her cheeks pink with embarrassment. Jamie was swinging back on his chair. When he saw her face he laughed, holding up both hands. ‘Joke!'

‘See.' Tilly shook her head. ‘I can't even tell when someone's having me on anymore.'

‘You don't get rid of us that easy. You're the closest house to the beach.' He tipped his chair forwards so it landed back on the floor. ‘But I will help out more. I don't want you to think I'm a freeloader.'

‘I don't really think that. I was just in a bad mood. Can you forget I said all that?'

They'd almost finished eating when Sam arrived home, alone. He peered around the door before coming in. ‘Mmmm, smells good. Enough for me?'

‘No.'

‘Sure.'

Tilly and Jamie spoke together.

Sam pulled the wok towards him, scooping the noodles up with his chopsticks. ‘You get some sleep, Tilly?'

Tilly scowled at him. ‘I am so going to tell Dad. You promised …'

Sam held his hand up. ‘All right. I don't need to hear it all again. As far as I'm concerned, you're out of line. I haven't seen you going into the hospital every day to help Dad.'

Tilly hung her head.

‘That's right. Forgot about that didn't you? Well I need a break too and I don't need you giving me or my mates lip about it. Write me a list and I'll do whatever, just don't do the big Stress Queen number on me again.'

‘I'm sorry, Sam. I wasn't thinking clearly. I know you've been at the hospital a lot. I was starving and you'd eaten
all the dinner. I just lost it,' said Tilly. She look at Sam with teary eyes.

‘Okay,' said Sam. There was a small silence between them. ‘Saw the girls down the beach,' he continued, sucking up the noodle hanging down his chin. ‘How come you weren't with them?'

‘No reason.' Tilly chewed at a spiky piece of fingernail.

‘Yeah? Nothing to do with the mood you're in.'

‘I'm making a roster,' Tilly said, changing the subject. ‘For you and all your friends who hang out here. Except Jamie. He can come anytime.' She smiled at Jamie.

‘Fine. As long as your friends are on it too.' Sam buttered four slices of bread.

‘My friends already help. They help set up the classes at the School, go out in the surf with the students, they've been there everyday …' Tilly stopped, dropping her head and picturing her friends' smiling faces doing all the things she'd just mentioned.

‘Everyday getting bossed around by you too, I'll bet. No wonder they're avoiding you.' Sam wiped out the wok and shoved the last slice of bread in his mouth.

Jamie collected the bowls, glancing uncomfortably at them. ‘Er, yeah, well I'll wash up and get out of here.'

Sam scraped his chair backwards. He shook his head and took the bowls off Jamie, chewing madly. ‘Let me wash up before …' He looked at Tilly. Fat tears, mixed with mascara, ran in black rivulets down her cheeks. ‘Too late,' Sam sighed. ‘Thanks for dinner, man. I'll clean up.'

‘I'm a horrible person, aren't I?' Tilly sobbed.

‘No,' Jamie said quietly. ‘You're not.'

Tilly's chest shuddered as she blew her nose on some toilet paper Jamie had given her.

‘Do you really mean that?' Tilly asked. ‘I think all my friends hate me.' Her voice was tired, defeated.

‘No they don't. Find them. Tell them you're sorry. Explain.' Jamie sounded so definite, so sure.

‘Is it that easy? Do you think they'll forgive me?'

Jamie's teeth flashed white against his brown face, and his long fringe flopped backwards and forwards as he nodded. ‘It worked for me,' he said simply. The phone rang suddenly, startling them. Tilly dived for it.