To tell you the truth, the audition was nothing to talk about. No lights, no beautiful breathtaking moments, just me doing what Sarah said. A dive roll, a dive roll to a handstand, a back roll, cartwheel, a round-off, a round-off to a back flip. I said I couldn’t do this, but I could do a back walk-over. There were flexibility and strength tests and then a few questions and it was over. Sarah said she’d let me know, but she didn’t give me a clue, not even with her expression, which remained sharp and friendly the whole way.
That night, Kite and Ruben and I go down to the Termo to see Barnaby and Ada playing. This is almost as good as the night I imagined with the Argentinean tango teacher, and luckily I don’t need a lava lamp or a frock.
The Termo is a big old pub opposite the train station. Inside, where Barnaby is playing, it’s dark and smoky and crowded. I’m not sure why, but I feel excited. Maybe it’s the darkness; maybe it’s being out with Kite in a grown-up place; maybe it’s because I’ve done the audition and now I can relax; or maybe it’s because I feel special since all the people are here to see my brother and I can shine with the borrowed light of his specialness.
But mostly I think it’s because Kite holds my hand. No one can see we’re holding hands because everyone is standing up and it’s so crowded. I lean into Kite a little. I can do this because it’s what people do when bodies are all messy and together and covered in darkness and anticipation. Ruben is standing at the back, but we’ve pushed through into the middle of the crowd. Barnaby and Ada aren’t the main act: they’re supporting The Vines, but still, standing up there together, with electric guitars, they look like a real thing, a real act, not just Barnaby and Ada but something else. It’s like the music transforms them. Just like the trapeze transforms Frankie.
Ada looks out from her long black hair and holds the microphone in one hand. She says in a low, slow voice, ‘This one’s for our friend, the stowaway.’
Barnaby is grinning and looking out in the crowd and I know he is looking to see me. At this moment I feel as if I could just be dancing tango in a gorgeous frock, but I hold the feeling inside me and all I do is lean a little more into Kite and grin, and right then I know I’m having a moment of perfect happiness. If only Lola could see me now, she’d know I wasn’t afraid of heights, not one bit.
We have to leave before the end because it’s late, but I don’t mind since I’m just not in the mood for minding anything. When we get home, Ruben shuffles off inside and Kite plonks himself down on the verandah steps and pulls me down beside him, saying, ‘Sit down and look at the sky, it’s different here. The stars are brighter and the night is blacker.’
I’m smiling at the stars and at the night and at the feeling inside me, which is brighter than the stars and bigger than the night. Before it happens, it’s as if I know it will. But I turn to Kite and I’m nervous and he looks at me and very slowly our faces begin to touch and we kiss. Not just one kiss, but two,
then three,
then four.
All soft, long kisses, all getting longer and closer, and closer. And then our mouths are opening, and slowly we’re kissing a real grown-up kiss.
On the steps, under the night.
Kite and me.