The Last Girl (5 page)

A guy in waiter’s whites materialised with a tray of what were maybe martinis. Jacinta and I clinked glasses. Mine tasted awful but I liked the warm glow of it going down. Drink in hand, boobs pushed up in my black gown, hair piled in a bun: all at once I felt very grown up. This time next year I’d be finished school and close to official adulthood. Maybe Finn and I would be celebrating our first anniversary. Maybe there’d be great angst about whether he’d go to university or travel the world with
moi
.

‘Anyway, he was
soooooo
hot,’ Jacinta was saying about the mechanic who’d fixed her dad’s hybrid. ‘
I-totally-got-busy-on-
myself-thinking-about-him-that-night
.’

‘What?’ I sputtered, looking at my friend.

‘What “what”?’

‘You . . . jilled off about some random?’

Jacinta jerked her head back. ‘No! What? What’re you talking about?’

‘But you said—’ I said.

‘No, I didn’t say,’ Jacinta snapped.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said.

‘Oh, I get it,’ she said, cheeks red. ‘You’re being all crazy like those idiots at The Grocery. Not biting, sorry.’

Jacinta looked past me. Mischief twinkled in her eyes.

Delicious
, I heard her say. Jacinta’s lips didn’t move, like she was trying to tell me secretly.

‘What’s delicious?’

‘Dan, give it a rest.’

Jacinta pecked me on the cheek.
Snap-him-up-or-I-will
. It sounded like a whisper.

‘What did you say?’

‘Good luck, weirdo.’

Smiling innocently, Jacinta launched herself into the crowd and left me alone on the couch.

‘Does madam approve?’ Finn had appeared at my side with a wine bottle.

Trying not to blush, I busied myself reading the label. Not that the wine words meant anything to me. What mattered was it gave me time to string together a reply. Or, at least, rip one off.

‘I’d rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy,’ I said.

Finn smiled uncertainly. I tried not to go redder.

I patted the cushion beside me. ‘What took you so long?’

His thigh pressed against mine as he joined me on the couch.

‘Your friend looked like she was in a hurry.’

‘Family emergency.’

He hoisted one eyebrow.

‘Her mum called. Cat caught fire again.’

Finn nodded grimly. ‘I hate when that happens.’

Like a magic trick, he produced two glasses for me to hold as he poured the wine.

‘Nice to be face to face,’ he said.

‘It is.’

We clinked. We sipped.

‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘It has a very clean finish.’

I didn’t know what that meant. We sipped again.

‘Really great to finally meet you, Danby.’

‘Yes, it is. I mean, to meet you.’

We slipped into silence. This was embarrassing. Declaring my love for R.E.M. or professing anarchist tendencies would only sound desperate.

‘Heavy penguin,’ I blurted.

Finn frowned at me. ‘What?’

‘Just needed to say something that’d break the ice.’

Clunk
.

But then he laughed at my heirloom humour. ‘That’s a good one.’

Finn infodumped while I drank. He was going to start a band called Godnot. He already had the logo: a crucifix question mark. He was going to write and sing really relevant songs. He had professional recording equipment. He would release everything independently. He would do it all while he got his law degree. He’d be a courtroom crusader by day and a rock ’n’ roll revolutionary by night.

‘I can’t help thinking outside the dominant paradigm,’ he said, refilling my glass. ‘I get the sense you’re like that too?’

Paradigm: one of those slippery words whose definition I could never quite remember. But it was cool that we were outside of whatever it was together.

‘How about you, Danby? What’re you going to do at university?’

Suddenly my plan to skip it and travel to all of those As and Es seemed aimless rather than adventurous.

‘Communications.’ It’s what I was still telling everyone. ‘Eventually.’ ‘Eventually?’

I took a deep breath. ‘I’m going to travel first. See as much as I can. Where I’d like to go is—’

‘South-East Asia,’ Finn said.

‘Well, yes, it’s on the list.’

‘I’m so going there,’ he said, nodding seriously. ‘Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia. There’s just so much culture.’

I lowered my eyes and nodded and sipped my wine, trying to look so very thoughtful about culture.

Bullshit!-Only-place-I’m-going-is-Bali!-I’m-so-gonna-rip-
shit-up-Get-my-draaaank-on!-Tap-me-some-fine-ass!

I guffawed up from my glass. If Finn had to interrupt me I was glad he was at least funny.

‘What?’ he asked, deadpan.

‘Spot-on impression of Troy.’

‘Danby,’ he said, frowning. ‘Troy couldn’t find Asia with a map.’
But-he-sure-knows-his-Thai-stick!-Should-find-
somewhere-to-blaze-up-before-I-tap-this-ass-Danby’s-so-into-
me-Chalk-up-another-V-card-for-the-F-Man!

In a flash I knew Finn scored weed from Troy, that his radical rocker speech usually got him laid, that his ideal law job was corporate counsel pulling down seven figures.

But Finn had been quaffing wine as he said all that. Was he using
ventriloquism
to screw with me?

‘Uggh,’ I said, jumping up from the couch. ‘Really?’

‘What? What’s the matter?’

‘Leave me alone!’

Damn-she’s-weird-like-they-said.

I swayed into the crowd as the room spun around me. Everyone looked like bad actors in a poorly dubbed movie. Their expressions didn’t match their emotions and their lips didn’t sync with what they were saying. But they were all so loud. The VIPs upstairs must have been shouting for me to hear them so clearly.

God-he-looks-hot-Can’t-she’s-my-best-friend-How’d-
Hannah-lose-that-weight?-Bulimic-bitch-Man-look-at-her-
She’s-already-drunk-Yeah-chop-me-a-line-Marnie-would-kill-
me-Can-Mark-tell-I-had-an-abortion?-Ah-that-hurts-Should-
be-able-to-get-precursor-chemicals-from-Would-Mr-Rowland-
do-it-with-me-now-school’s-over?

Then I saw myself. Pale amid the party people. This wasn’t outside the paradigm. This was outside my body. Wasn’t that what happened when you were about to die? My heart thumped faster in my chest. Jacinta pushed through the crowd. I was seeing me through her—and her through me—and back again.

‘Danby, are you okay?’

Suddenly I wasn’t okay. I was absolutely fantastic. From Mollie to me: every cell and nerve and atom jumped up and down with the euphoria of existence.

Man-that-coke’s-the-shit!

‘Did you take something?’ Jacinta asked.

She knew I didn’t do drugs. Not after what happened with Mum.

‘No,’ I said, grinning and grinding my teeth.

‘You look wired.’ Jacinta handed me her drink. ‘Calm down.’

I took a mouthful of wine.

‘Rachel had an
abortion
in August,’ I whispered, wiping my mouth with my wrist. ‘She’s in the upstairs bathroom having sex with
Mark
.’

‘Ssssshhhh!’ Jacinta grabbed my shoulder.

I shrugged her off, slugged back more wine.

Someone’s-spiked-her.

‘What did she say?’ shrieked Marnie, appearing from the throng. ‘Mark?’

She rushed up the stairs, screaming her boyfriend’s name.

All eyes and ears were on me. Someone had killed the music.

‘What?’ I said.

John, the leader of the geek clique, laughed snidely. ‘You’re wasted, Danby.’

‘You should know,’ I shot back. ‘You’re the one cooking meth over the holidays!’

I meant it to sound light-hearted. It didn’t.

‘You’re drunk,’ John snapped. ‘Go home.’ I heard his voice continue though his mouth was clamped in an angry line.
Who-told-her?-No-one-knows!

‘Let’s go, Dan,’ Jacinta said, trying to drag me away.

‘No, stay!’ said Paula, taking a break from sucking face with her rowing champ hook-up Jake. ‘What else you got, Danby?’

It wasn’t like what I knew were really secrets. They’d all been shouting about this stuff just seconds ago. My mouth seemed to motor by itself.

‘Well, Paula,’ I said, ‘Jake-y Jake-y wants to play hide-the-snakey with Mr Rowland.’

A shockwave went through the crowd. Paula and Jake jolted apart as if they’d been electrocuted.

She’s-lying!

Is-that-why-he-won’t-have-sex-with-me?

The lounge room erupted in hoots of laughter and upstairs there was a tumult of shouting. Over all the noise I heard Finn like he was whispering in my ear.

Man-did-I-dodge-a-bullet-there.

I spun around. He was smiling and shaking his head with the sports guys who’d gathered for the show.

‘Did you just dodge a bullet?’ I yelled. ‘Didn’t you want to tap my ass, F-man?’

Finn looked around the room.
Mum’s-crazy-too-That’s-
what-I-heard.
‘Someone call her father.’

I burst into tears. I couldn’t understand what was happening. Was this some horrible prank? Was I about to be doused with a bucket of pig’s blood?

Feet stomped down the stairs.
She’s-lost-the-plot!-We’ve-
got-your-back-Stupid-bitch-ruining-my-buzz-Thanks-I-get-for-
inviting-plebs-they . . .

The posse steamed into the room. Mollie first. Then Rachel, dishevelled and crying, backed up by big boyfriends, brute faces in fight mode.

‘Get out!’ Mollie pointed at me. ‘Someone get this drunk bitch out of my house!’

My house
: in a flash I knew that’s how she’d come to think of it. Her parents had all but moved out. Her mother: in rehab with an eating disorder. Her father: cohabiting with his secretary. I knew how Mollie felt. Cocaine couldn’t stave off that sadness.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said, meaning it, suddenly feeling very sick. ‘I’m sorry about your mum and dad.’

You-bitch-you-f—

‘You bitch!’

Mollie screamed as she shoved me hard. I went backwards over outstretched legs and then everything went black.

FOUR

When my lights came on, I was in a hospital gown.

‘Hey,’ Dad said from beside my bed. ‘Welcome back.’

‘What happened?’ I asked.

‘Don’t you remember?’

I wished I didn’t. But it was all there. I’d gone mental in front of everyone who mattered. I would never live it down.

‘I’m sorry.’

Dad smiled the best he could.

‘They call it the silly season for a reason,’ he said. ‘The good news is you’re not concussed and you didn’t break anything.’

He sank into his chair with a sigh that said the bad news was coming.

‘Have you told Mum?’

Dad shook his head. ‘I thought you’d want to do that.’

I nodded. ‘What time is it?’

‘Just after ten.’

Not even an hour since my freak-out. Now there were no voices and no out-of-body trips. Whatever I’d been dosed with had worn off.

‘Dad,’ I said. ‘I don’t do drugs. I think I was spiked.’

Finn: it had to be. He had the wine and the glasses. I noticed there was a Band-Aid on my arm where they’d taken blood.

‘That’s what Jacinta said when she called me,’ Dad said.

God, Jacinta would tease me about this until the sky fell.

‘But they’ve done tests and there aren’t any drugs in your system.’

It didn’t make sense. Could I have had an adverse reaction to alcohol? I had to be totally honest. They would’ve told Dad anyway.

‘I had a lot to drink.’

‘Actually,’ he said. ‘Your blood alcohol wasn’t very high at all.’

Dad’s glum smile made my heart sink. Mum’s problems had begun in a hospital bed like this. Nursing me for the first time she learned the news that the world had watched live while she’d been in labour. As her baby was being born thousands of people were dying in horrific circumstances that’d reshape the world. Mum couldn’t shake the sense that the timing was significant and she’d sob until she was sedated. Dad reckoned the doctors created a pattern—depression alleviated by drugs—that took her years to break. Now he wore the same weary expression he’d had on the day he told me Mum was going away for good so she could get better. I didn’t need to be telepathically deluded to know he was looking at me but seeing her.

‘Danby,’ he said. ‘There’s someone who’d like a word if you’re up to it.’

I nodded.

‘I’m Doctor Jenny Sales and I’m a psychiatrist.’ The headshrinker looked like a tuck-shop mum and I liked her upfront manner. ‘And you, Danby, are a special case.’

‘Is that what you call it?’

‘I’m not talking about what happened tonight,’ she said, waving off what I’d done like it was no worse than farting at a formal gathering. ‘Check this out.’

Jenny clicked a remote and a flat screen showed a body scan.

‘This is you,’ she said. ‘We had to make sure you didn’t have any internal injuries. Anyway, you’re all fine. But do you notice anything?’

Only that the rainbow imaging made me look like a human piñata filled with jelly beans.

‘See here,’ Jenny said. ‘Your heart’s on the right side. Which is to say it’s on the wrong side.’

I clutched at my chest. Left, right: I couldn’t feel any heartbeat.