Dear Rudy,
Do you think people should be friends because they have a lot in common, or because they’re different and they complement each other? Damo and Tom and Matt and your whole group—you all seemed really alike. You talked the same and dressed the same and made the same annoying jokes. It looked like it worked for you, from the outside anyway. You should see them now, Rudy. It would break your heart in two. They were at the memorial, even Tom, and they were barely functioning. You’re the one who seemed to get them to talk about their feelings, so without you there to help them process this loss, they’re like the statues from the witch’s courtyard in Narnia, petrified into stone.
The three of them stayed away from our house for weeks after you died, but when they finally came over I think it was hard for Mum and Dad to let them leave. They slept on the floor in the lounge room for what felt like forever, but was probably less than a week. Damo couldn’t look any of us in the eye, and Tom kept finding reasons to walk past your room. Matt’s machine-gun laugh seemed to slip out of his mouth whenever he started to feel sad or uncomfortable. We all pretended not to notice. I still can’t tell how anyone is doing. I hope they got to wake up and feel their bodies exhale the next day too.
Dee and I are so different, and I think she’s drawn to girls like Jessica Rabbit because of that. I don’t think Dee and Jessica Rabbit are alike at all, but they’re more alike than Dee and me. Their brains are anyway. Sometimes, like today in Maths, when I’m talking to Dee it’s like I’m speaking Japanese and she’s speaking French, but we don’t know it. We’re looking to each other for understanding and it’s just not translating at all.
Dee was telling me how she was going to borrow Jessica’s sister’s ID so she can go into the city with them and do karaoke at some club. I asked why you need to be eighteen to do karaoke.
‘You don’t. It’s a bar so you have to be old enough to get in. I’m going to go big and do my best Gaga.’ Dee said that while miming a high note with a pretend microphone and a flick of her hair. Just like she ridiculed Pointy Kathy so much for doing. I didn’t mention that. But I did ask for clarification on what the set-up would be like, so I could imagine it and think about whether it’s something I would ever want to do.
‘Is it in a separate room or in front of everyone? It sounds really embarrassing.’
Dee didn’t take it well. ‘It’s in front of everyone and I’m actually a pretty good singer so I don’t think it’ll be embarrassing at all. Thanks for your vote of confidence though, Brain.’ She spat out my nickname like it was a rotten berry.
Dee isn’t a very good singer, but I guess I should have reassured her that she is, because my silence was interpreted as an attack. She snapped at me, ‘Just because you’d be absolutely terrible at it, doesn’t mean I would be. I know how to have a good time, maybe try it some time.’
Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t know. But she’s going to karaoke to sing bad songs in a mediocre way anyway, and I couldn’t think of anything worse.
Dee doesn’t mind if she’s bad or mediocre at something—she’ll try it anyway. Even if it’s in front of a lot of people. She does high jump at sports days and never makes it over even the lowest height. She hits the bar and flops on the mat and laughs and laughs. I feel embarrassed for her, but I know she doesn’t care. I picture myself doing the same thing and I want to curl up in a ball of shame just at the thought. But I’m not laughing at her or thinking she’s silly, I’m just wishing I had more of a stomach for those kinds of things. If my threshold for embarrassment is really low, hers is exceptionally high.
It’s just hard to feel like someone is really my friend when I don’t really want to do any of the things she wants to do. I feel like I am theoretically friends with Dee at the moment, but I am not that keen on putting it into practice.
Love, Erin