Bridie

Bridie’s circle was slowly expanding. Between poetry club and the justice society, she had a few extra people she could sit with at lunch, although she still frequently resorted to the library. One lunchtime had been spent selling raffle tickets for the local women’s shelter, and another handing out leaflets with the title: Sex trafficking is not just an overseas problem.

On weekends, she was seeing a bit more of Imogen. This weekend they had plans for the beach. Imogen seemed to be going through a personality change, shaking off her reserved nature and acquiring an intense interest in boys. Attending an all-girls’ school seemed to only make her more obsessed. Despite Imogen being a year older, Bridie sometimes found her slightly immature, especially when it came to boys. Another negative was they didn’t have any shared friends or school experiences to fall back on if they ran out of things to talk about. Still, Bridie was extremely grateful to have someone to hang out with again. There had been complete radio silence from Lily.

~

‘Bridie! Bridie! Hey!’

Nobody was more surprised than Bridie to hear a male voice call out as she and Imogen zigzagged across the sand, in search of a free spot close to the water. She stopped dead, and twirled in the direction of the voice. Colour infused her face when she saw who it was. Fitz had got to his feet, brushing sand from his board shorts and elbows, sliding his sunnies back on his head. Danny and Alex stayed horizontal, sunglasses and a boundary remaining in place.

Everyone seemed to be waiting for her to speak. ‘Hi. Good. Yeah. This is Imogen, my cousin. Thought we’d catch some sun, maybe have a swim.’

Duh, talk about stating the obvious. Next to her, Imogen was staring at the boys intently.

‘Water’s nice today,’ Fitz said, his eyes briefly meeting hers before they both looked away. ‘Not too cold.’

Suddenly, Bridie was fiercely conscious of her green bikini top and her tight denim shorts. Did he still think she was ‘fuckable’? Or was it something he’d blurted out without thinking, as he’d maintained to the school principal?

‘Great,’ she mumbled. ‘Might risk it, so. See ya.’ She raised her hand in a wave.

‘Who was that?’ Imogen demanded, as soon as they were out of earshot.

‘Emmet’s friends. Fitz, Danny and Alex.’ Or were they ex-friends? As far as Bridie knew, Emmet wasn’t in contact with his old gang.

‘Pretty hot, though I didn’t get a proper look at the other two.’

‘Yeah, I guess.’

‘Too old for you, though. But I’m sixteen, legal … Here’s a good spot.’

Bridie hesitated. They were about twenty metres from the boys, within line of sight, despite all the bodies and beach umbrellas in the way. She laid out her towel and unzipped her shorts, conscious that he might be looking. It was weird. She wanted him to see her and, just as intensely, didn’t.

She read her book for the first ten minutes, or at least pretended to. Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow was book of the month for her new online book club. Unlike the poetry club and environmental society, the book club introduced her to people outside school, of all ages. Bridie loved the fact that the group chat was so active – someone was always posting about what they were reading.

Even though she’d been enjoying the book until now, she found herself rereading the same sentences. Eventually she put it down and checked her phone, scrolling through the posts that had popped up on Instagram since she last checked. Lily and one of her new friends posing by a sparkling backyard pool. Caitlin Hewitt-Franklin quoting a feminist Bridie had never heard of.

Bridie opened her camera and recorded a short video of the water and crowds, posting under the caption: Saturday arvo at the beach.

‘Come on, let’s swim,’ Imogen said, reaching across to confiscate the phone, slipping it into the beach bag. Her cousin stood up, flicking sand off the backs of her thighs. ‘Hey, do you mind watching our stuff for a while?’ she asked a girl sitting close by: twentyish, lots of tattoos, also reading a book.

She stared at them through dark sunglasses. ‘Sure. No problem.’

Laughing, they ran towards the water, and squealed at its chilly first touch. Could Fitz see them now? Imogen’s figure was more developed than Bridie’s. Had he noticed her cousin in that way when they stopped to talk?

‘One, two, three,’ Bridie shouted, before diving into a wave. The cold water enveloped her, made her immediately conscious of her body, her bare skin, her heightened state of feeling.

When she surfaced, she looked over her shoulder, in the vague direction of the boys. Again, that sensation of wanting to be seen and not wanting to be seen. Erring towards wanting to be seen. As she paddled water, waiting for the swell of the next wave, she began to contemplate the fact that she’d be sixteen in January. Did that milestone make the prospect of her and Fitz more legitimate? Or was a two-year difference unacceptable at their age? It obviously became acceptable at some point: dating the friend of your older brother was pretty common.

The girls stayed in the water for a long time, sun beating down on their bare shoulders, salt stinging their eyes as they bodysurfed each series of waves. Bridie’s skin and senses zinged as the daydream of her and Fitz took shape.

‘I think they’ve gone,’ Imogen said when they emerged, wet sand sinking under their feet.

Bridie scanned the approximate area as surreptitiously as she could manage. Disappointment was like a heavy stone in the pit of her stomach.

~

Later that night, she received another Snapchat message from Fitz.

Fitzboy_Fit: I’m glad we’re friends again. Still feel awful about what happened.

Bridie didn’t want him to feel awful. Now that she’d had time to think about it, she actually did want him to find her sexy. Did that make her a hypocrite, considering all the fuss? Was she being pathetic? Deluded? But she couldn’t deny how she’d felt on seeing him at the beach, the immediate buzz of excitement.

Finally, she settled for: It was nice seeing you. Thanks for nothing tho. The water was freezing!

Her phone screen froze: the message looked like it was stuck in limbo. Her phone had been slow since the beach – probably needed a software update. She was about to reboot when the screen came back to life.

His response arrived within seconds: You didn’t look cold to me.

So he had seen her in the water. Did he like what he saw?

Looks can be deceiving, she typed back, and they exchanged another few messages before saying goodnight.

Bridie tossed and turned in bed. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, his provocative eyes under that fringe of brown-blond hair. The tan and definition of his bare chest. The way his board shorts sat low on his hips. She imagined kissing him, his mouth warm and soft on hers. She envisioned them as a couple, holding hands in public places, laughing about their ‘bad start’.

It was after midnight, but she’d never felt so awake, every nerve in her body tense with anticipation. Would Fitz talk to her at school on Monday? Smile at her? Message her again? Was she reading too much into this? She felt a strong urge to confide in Lily, to relay the fine details of every interaction with him, to get an outside opinion on whether this was something or was all in her head.

Then a glimmer of hope: maybe if Bridie had a boyfriend, an older boyfriend, it would buy her some currency with Lily, a way back into their friendship.