It was inevitable that word about Daniel would get around Westside eventually, but I wasn’t prepared to be bombarded the moment I entered the locker room the next morning.
“Is it true Skeletor’s in rehab?” asks Belinda, with a distinct note of joy in her voice.
“Jamie reckons he’s been charged by the police and they won’t let him back on school grounds. Is that it?” says Bethanee.
“Steve heard that he’s in juvenile detention and they’re planning to keep him there for a few months,” says Brianna. “Is it true, Freia?”
“How would Freia know?” says Kate, giving me a nervous look.
My instincts tell me to shut up, but the anger building inside me has other ideas.
“It’s not as if you care what’s happened to Daniel, so why do you want to know? Don’t you have anything better to do than gossip about some guy you wouldn’t even spit on if he was on fire?”
“Since when did you become the defender of Skeletor’s honour?” asks Belinda. “Are you and him and Siouxsie in some kind of weird love triangle or something?”
“Is that why he hasn’t been around?” sneers Bethanee. “Because you and Morticia have worn him out?”
I look to Kate to intervene, but she ducks her head into her locker. I search my brain for a witty comeback, but all that comes out of my mouth before I slam my locker door and race from the room is, “Why don’t you bitches just fuck off?”
I go to the bathroom and wash my face, which is burning with a combination of rage and humiliation. By the time I feel calm enough to go to Maths Mr McLaren is halfway through rollcall. Kate is sitting between Bethanee and Brianna, and Bethanee’s bag is on what is usually my chair. I take a seat on the other side of the room.
Kate is waiting for me at recess. There’s an awkward silence between us until finally she blurts out, “Look, Freia, I don’t care that you don’t particularly like the Bs, and I know that you only hang out with them for my sake, but you’re putting me in a really awkward situation. They’re my friends and I’m sick of feeling like I have to defend you to them all the time. If you don’t want to be around us, then don’t. Go sit with Siouxsie or Steph or whoever, but don’t pretend you’re part of our group and then take the moral high ground when it suits you.”
Of course she’s right, but it still hurts to hear. Her voice softens. “Maybe it’d be better if we didn’t hang out together so much any more.”
I nod, wishing that I’d had the guts to be the one to say it. When she leaves I feel shell-shocked, but also kind of relieved, as if a huge weight’s been lifted off my shoulders.
Siouxsie gets to EE just as the bell goes and slides into the seat beside me. “What’s this I hear about you taking on Queen B this morning?”
I squirm in my seat, trying to remember who else was in the locker room that might have told Siouxsie about my outburst. “Yeah, I kind of lost it.”
“From what I heard you kicked some major B-butt!”
“It was terrible. They were spouting all this crap about Daniel and then Bethanee said something about you and me and him being on together and …”
“Yeah, I’m familiar with the scenario. If I had a dollar for every time the Bs called my sexuality into question, I’d be a millionaire, or at least a thousandaire.”
“I, uh, told them to f-off,” I say, still feeling embarrassed about not coming up with something smarter.
“Well, it seems to have done the trick. And for someone who’s just made herself the least popular girl in the school, you don’t seem too worried.”
I think about it for a moment. “Actually, it feels pretty okay.”
“And what about Daniel? Did your hunch pay off?”
My good mood evaporates as I remember that he’s still missing. I shake my head.
“I bet he just wants to make his dad sweat it out a bit,” she says when I tell her about my wasted trip to Switch. “From what you’ve told me, Daniel’s too smart to get himself into any real danger.”
“I know you’re probably right, but …”
“But that doesn’t make it any less worrying? I know, but I don’t know what else to say to make you feel better.”
I don’t get a chance to tell her that she already has because Reid arrives and starts ranting about our final P&P essays being due on Tuesday. I’ve decided to do mine on the use of female stereotypes in the book – I figure at least that way I can get a few digs in. Siouxsie offers to come over on Saturday night and force me to write it. I promise her double-fudge brownies in return.
I’m shocked to see Nicky’s car across the road from school. Having seen her yesterday, it hadn’t registered that we’d be having our usual Friday tutoring session.
“You don’t mind if we go to Switch, do you?” she asks when I get in. “I figured you could use more chocolate cake in your life this week. And Jay and I have tickets for an early show at the Astor.”
“You and Jay, eh? So that’s why you’ve been hanging out there so much.”
“Guilty as charged,” she says, flashing me a mega smile.
“And that’s why he gives us such big slices of cake! I should’ve known it wasn’t my Successful Teen charm. I’m sorry, Nicky. I’ve been so caught up in school and the play and my own stupid stuff that I didn’t even notice.”
“That’s okay, Fray. I was keeping it pretty low profile till I was sure there was something worth mentioning.”
Jay beams when we walk into the cafe. I assume this is because the love of his life has just arrived.
“Why don’t you go and get a table out the back?” says Nicky. “I’ll make sure Jay doesn’t skimp on our cake.”
I guess this is some kind of lovers’ code for “have a big smooch” and, frankly, I’m more than happy to leave them to it. As I enter the back room, I see a familiar figure hunched over the table and a thick head of hair dangling threateningly close to the plate of lasagna in front of it. I gasp and Daniel looks up.
“Hey,” he says, apparently not the slightest bit surprised to see me.
“Where’ve you … what happened … how did …” My knees feel a bit funny and I plonk myself into the chair across from his, incapable of finishing any of the thoughts racing through my head.
He smiles. “I’ll give you the short version. I got sick of my dad threatening to send me away so I thought I’d go live with Mum and her new husband at their place on the coast. Except when I got there they were busy turning my room into a nursery for the baby that’s arriving in about six months and Mum didn’t really think they could squeeze me in so she called Dad to bring me back.”
“Are you okay?”
“I survived a three-hour car trip with my dad, so I figure I can’t be too damaged by the experience.”
“I met your dad.”
“So I hear.” He smirks. “Apparently, you and your mum make a formidable team.”
“Oh yeah, Mum was pretty embarrassed by what I said to him, but I was so angry …”
“Embarrassed? He reckons she gave him a proper telling-off. Told him to find me and listen to what I had to say and that he should stick up for me more.”
“Really? My mum?”
“So he says. It must’ve got him thinking, too, because he does seem to be trying not to be disappointed in everything I do. Anyway, how’s the play going? Am I going to have to wrestle Dazzmeister from the controls tomorrow?” He grins and I can’t help noticing that, up close, his lips look really soft.
“Are you ever.” I tell him about my run-in with Darryl at Wednesday’s rehearsal and we chat as if we’re just two friends who’ve run into each other at the coffee shop. Nicky brings me a hot chocolate and asks if I mind skipping this week’s tutoring session because she thinks she has a migraine coming on. I know she’s lying and I’m grateful.
At six Daniel says he has to go. “One of Dad’s ‘good father’ resolutions is to cook us dinner once a week. I’d better not be late for his first attempt.”
“But you’ve just eaten a whole plate of lasagna!”
“I said he was cooking, I didn’t say I was brave enough to eat it.”
As he’s unchaining his bike, I finally get up the nerve to say what I’ve been thinking since I walked into the back room.
“I’m glad you’re back, Daniel.” I say it without looking at him, and it comes out so quietly that for a moment I think he might not have heard me until he looks up and brushes the hair from his (blue – blue!) eyes.
“Me too, Freia. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I can tell that Nicky’s already told Mum the news because when I get home she waits ten whole minutes before coming to my room and then spends another five asking how school was and whether I have much homework for the weekend.
“Daniel’s fine,” I say when it gets to the point that I feel bad watching her trying not to ask. “His dad seems to have taken what you said to heart.”
“What I said? I don’t know what–”
“Something about how he should stick up for his son?”
“Well, I might have mentioned something about parental loyalty …”
“Thanks, Mum.” I give her a hug, which feels kind of weird because we’re not usually a huggy family, but kind of nice, too.
“I’d better go and get dinner started before Ziggy starts gnawing at the walls,” she says, standing up and brushing imaginary lint off her trousers to fill the awkwardness.
I crank up my little speakers and bounce around the room to the Ramones, only this time I’m not punching or kicking anything – I’m just grinning and bopping like Loony McLoon on loon pills. And every time I get a flashback to Daniel’s blue eyes I grin more. Boris gives me the death stare from the laundry basket, but I don’t care.
Later Siouxsie calls sounding all out of breath to let me know that she’s just seen Daniel at her local video store. She ran all the way home to call me. I feel almost guilty telling her that I’ve already seen him when she’s gone to so much trouble, but she doesn’t seem annoyed at all, just relieved.