The Spite Game Read online

  Later, while my mum cooked dinner, Bea and I tried to put together her bed. It felt strange to have separate rooms.

  “Are you going to miss me at night?” I asked.

  “Yeah, sure,” she said, struggling to turn an Allen key. “You know, finally I have a place I can bring boys back to and now we are in the middle of nowhere!”

  “What boys?” She’d broken up with her boyfriend six months ago.

  “I dunno,” she said, “just hypothetical boys.”

  “I’m sure you can find some sexy locals.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Where does this bit go?” I held up a long piece of wood.

  She sighed and put the Allen key down. “I have no idea.”

  I looked up at the window. “Hey, look,” I said, “there are lights on.”

  She stood up and leaned against the window frame, out into the estate.

  “I’ll just sleep on the mattress tonight. I can’t be bothered to finish this right now.”

  I got up to stand next to her. Three of the houses glowed in the blackness. I rested my head on her shoulder.

  “It’ll be fine,” I said.

  “You’re the little sister. I’m meant to say that to you.”

  “Go on, then.”

  She put her arm around me and I breathed in her comforting Beatrice smell, but she didn’t say anything.

  3

  At 5:30 a.m., my alarm went off. I lay there, staring into the abyss of black in front of me. My body started to fall through the mattress and I shook myself awake again. Every part of me was begging to go back to sleep.

  Outside, the air smelled light and wet. It was still dark. Closing the door quietly behind me I walked down through the estate, treading lightly, trying not to make a sound. They hadn’t even put in the streetlamps yet. The black was thick and rich around me. In this darkness, anything could happen. Someone could be watching me from just a few meters away and I wouldn’t have known it. I knew I had to stop thinking like that. This was a safe place—that’s why we were here.

  I walked for a full ten minutes before I could even see the gates. They were open by just an inch; you wouldn’t notice from a distance. Someone had escaped. Or someone had gotten in.

  Waiting on the side of the road at the bus stop, I resisted the urge to look behind me at the trees. It was too dark to see much, but I knew that the woods there were deep and impenetrable. Rows and rows of thin white trunks. I’d seen so many horror films about people being murdered in woods like that. Of running forever but always being caught eventually. I kept my back to it.

  Staring at my feet, I felt like a sitting duck out there in the dark. I prayed that no cars would come by. We’d learned about Ivan Milat at school, the way he picked up hitchhikers from the side of the road and the next people knew of them was when their bones were tripped over in the bush. By the time the bus arrived, I was shaking. My fingers were numb and pink.

  The bus driver nodded hello as I boarded. There was only one other passenger, a man in a crumpled suit asleep in the back row. The heater hummed softly. I took off my coat and leaned against the window, letting the heat and vibrations of the bus calm me. My mum had wanted me to change schools; she said it was too far to travel every day. I would have considered it, if it hadn’t been for what had happened in the change room. If Mel and Cass and Saanvi hadn’t started saying hi to me in the corridor. I was so close.

  I should have felt triumphant for making it onto the bus, but my mind was too tired to even think in the warm, dark silence. The wheels revolved, pulling me back to where I belonged.

  The bush turned to suburbs as the sun rose. When we reached the city, the bus was full.

  * * *

  “Have you ever heard of dream hypnosis?”

  “Nah, what’s that?”

  “I’ll show you.”

  The sound of snickering and then the warmth of breath on my ear. I knew who it was. Theodore. I always found him annoying and kind of smug. He was always loud in class, even though he had nothing funny to say. He thought he was better looking than he really was, and was always finding an excuse to display his pierced nipple just so he could pull up his T-shirt and show everyone his unimpressive abs. I was fairly sure Mel had a crush on him though, she always laughed at everything he said.

  “You are a big, sexy monkey.” A tiny flick of his spit hit my ear. “When you wake up you will strip off your clothes.”

  “You wish,” I said, forcing my sleep-sticky eyes open. Theodore pulled away.

  “You’re so mean, Theo,” Mel said, slapping his shoulder playfully.

  Science class. I always sat at the workbench behind Mel and Theodore’s. Usually they didn’t talk to me.

  “Why so tired?” Theodore eyed me. “Up partying all night?”

  “We moved house.” I rubbed my eyes and attempted to look like I wasn’t thrilled to have a reason to speak to them. “It’s, like, two hours away.”

  “Why’d you do that?” asked Mel.

  They were both looking at me, not even bothering to pretend they were doing the experiment, whatever it was. I didn’t want to tell them about the break-in. Instead I dropped my gaze like I often did back then when too many people were looking at me, and talked toward their chests.

  “We’ve been renting for ages, and they were selling these houses really cheap. My mum thought it was a good opportunity.” I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t want to go to some redneck school out in Doreen though.”

  Mel smiled at me, one eyebrow slightly raised, then turned back to her bench.

  I half tried to figure out what the class had been about, but the fatigue was turning to dizziness so I just stared dumbly ahead. My mum kept telling me I needed to focus; it was year twelve so my marks actually mattered. The idea of life after high school seemed incomprehensibly distant. I had more important things to worry about.

  At lunch, Ashleigh and Ling always talked incessantly about university. Ashleigh was passionate about statistics and Ling was committed to genetic engineering. They were both 100 percent certain that this was what their lives would be. The only thing I was certain about was having no idea at all what I was doing.

  “I don’t know. I mean, do people who are hiring really look at your transcripts? I think the more cred the uni has the better you look, even if you only pass,” Ashleigh was saying.

  “As if you’d only pass anywhere though!” Ling assured her.

  “Good point. But I want to do a course that offers the specific units that I want to focus on.”

  It went on and on like that. We sat where we did every day at lunch: on the pavement against the wall to the library, rather than on the oval like most of the other groups did. I leaned my back against the bricks and stared out at where Mel, Cass and Saanvi sat. Mel in the middle, Saanvi leaning on her shoulder looking at her phone. Cass was lying on Mel’s legs, drawing something on her thigh. I watched as Mel giggled at the feeling of it. There was something about them that seemed so free.

  I knew I should feel bad about how much I was wishing to be over with them rather than where I was. The truth was that I was already feeling a shift with Ashleigh and Ling. It wasn’t like it used to be. I’d been friends with them both since year seven. In that first week of high school, sitting with them had felt natural. It’s strange how that happened, how you have that first week to find your tribe and then that’s where you’re stuck for the next six years.

  We didn’t bother much with clothes, were good at schoolwork and too embarrassed to even talk to boys. As far as the social strata went, we were barely in the equation. We were cooler than the kids with chronic acne who played cards in the back of the library, but not by much.

  But now things felt different. Ashleigh and Ling had started spending more time together just the two of them and I didn’t even care. Ever since what had
happened with Miranda, I’d been changing. I’d gone to a secondhand shop and spent hours replacing my wardrobe. I bought some tight black jeans and got rid of my faded blue ones. I found some T-shirts with pictures of bands I’d never even heard of, which must have meant they were cool. The absolute prize were the black Doc Martens that I found, the leather so cracked that they were no longer waterproof. Altogether, I looked different, more like them. Although I hadn’t abandoned the hoodie and my hair was still fluffy, inside I felt ready. I wanted to see the true potential of my life, to have fun and get drunk and kiss boys and skip school. I wanted to see what I was capable of. I was just waiting for my in.

  * * *

  When I finally got home I collapsed into bed. It felt like the longest day I’d ever lived. Outside, the sun was already starting to set. Part of me wanted to go and open the window. The plastic smell in my room was even worse than yesterday. But I was too tired. The idea of even sitting seemed impossible.

  “How was school?” Bea called through the wall.

  I groaned in response. I heard Bea slide off her bed and come out of her room and into mine. She lay down with her stomach across my legs, and propped her head up on her hand.

  “Did you talk to them today?” she asked.

  I smiled.

  “That’s a yes,” she said. “I swear, you should just go sit down with them. They obviously think you’re cool.”

  “It’s not that easy,” I said. “I try to talk to them all the time but they aren’t interested.”

  Bea just rolled her eyes. She had never had trouble in high school. She started unlacing my Doc Martens.

  “What do your little nerdy friends think of these?”

  “They didn’t mention them,” I said, stretching out my toes as she pulled each shoe off.

  Bea scooted up so she was lying next to me, sharing my pillow.

  “It’s really boring here, Ava.”

  “I know.”

  “No, you don’t. It’s so quiet, and the other people who live here are really strange. I saw an old lady check her mail in her underwear earlier. It was the most excitement I’ve had all day. At least you have someplace to go.”

  “Yeah, school!”

  “I’d take school right now.”

  Bea had decided to take a gap year to figure out what she wanted to do with her life. I don’t think she’d planned on spending it in Doreen. I watched her profile as she stared at the ceiling, a crease between her eyebrows. The sinking sun made her skin glow. She was so pretty. I hoped I looked like her.

  “I need to get a job, but there’s nothing here.”

  “Are you pissed at Mum?” I asked. When our mother had told us about this place she’d called it a “thriving community.”

  “A bit,” she said. Then she turned to me and smiled. “I think she feels guilty. Guess what she said?”

  “What?”

  “Now that we have so much more space she said maybe we could get a dog.”

  “A beagle?”

  “No way! A Staffy.”

  “Nah, a poodle. One of those giant black awkward-looking ones.”

  “What about a Boston terrier? They’re so cute!”

  “Or a mix of them! What are they called?”

  “I think it’s called a Bossi-Poo,” Bea said, totally straight-faced.

  “No!”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  I rolled on my back and started to laugh. All the tiredness and the seriousness of the day dissolving into giggles. “A Bossi-Poo?”

  “Yeah, that’s what they’re called,” she said, but she was smiling too.

  “You’re a bossy poo,” I said.

  “You are!” she squealed, and started sniggering too, and it was just like when she was nine and I was seven and poo was the dirtiest word we knew.

  4

  This probably won’t be what you expected. Teenage girls, crushes, pet puppies. They’re probably not the things you usually hear about in this room. I’m going to get to the point, I promise.

  It’s cold in here, and I can hear rain against the high square window. Outside, the sky is beginning to darken. It’s faded from pale blue to gray. I wonder if you’re out there already, looking at me through the glass. Are you looking at the wool jacket I have pulled tight around me, wondering if it’s an imitation or real deal designer? It’s real. Although, you probably aren’t the kind of person to notice that sort of thing.

  I imagine you with a beer gut, a crumpled suit, nice at first but harsh when you need to be. If that’s the case you’re more likely outside, looking at my car. You’d be inspecting the expensive finish, the plush leather seats, trying to figure out how someone like me could be involved in all of this.

  Or is it the waiting that is the whole point? You want me to fall apart.

  If that’s the case, you don’t need to wait. This is what I’m here to tell you: I fell apart a long time ago.

  * * *

  My media class was in the same corridor as Mel’s drama class. We had PE together right after. The bell had already rung but I was having trouble moving quickly. It was day two of my long commute to school and I felt even worse than I had yesterday. Even putting my books back in my backpack felt like too much of an effort.

  There was barely anyone in the corridor when I left. Just a guy leaning against a locker trying to chat up a girl as she pushed her books inside. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, just the rumble of the bass of his voice and her vapid giggles. When I walked passed the drama room I looked in. I always looked in. Just to see if Mel had already left or not. I knew I was late, so I didn’t expect to see her in there that day, but I looked inside anyway. Habit. As I walked past I saw a flash of something that seemed so wrong I kept walking before I realized what I’d just seen.

  Taking a step back I looked again into the small window in the classroom door. Mel was standing at one of the desks. The drama teacher, Mr. Bitto, was standing behind her. Something wasn’t right. He was too close to her, whispering something in her ear, but it wasn’t just that. It was the look on her face. She looked scared.

  Then I saw his hand. It slowly snaked around her body and gripped onto her left breast.

  My instinct was to hesitate, do nothing, just watch, but then I thought of what had happened with Miranda. I had the power to stop this. I pushed the door open.

  “We’re going to be late for PE, Mel,” I said.

  Mr. Bitto jumped away from her. Mel looked between him and me, and then grabbed her bag and ran past me out the door.

  I couldn’t move. All I could do was stare at Mr. Bitto. I’d always liked him. He had fine features and a soft voice. He always seemed so nice. Like a teacher who remembered what it was like to be young. I stayed in the doorway, staring at him, wanting him to explain it.

  “Off you go, then. Don’t be late,” he said, like nothing had happened, but his face was all sweaty.

  I was fuming all through PE. I kicked the soccer ball harder than I ever had and it felt good. In the change room, I waited until everyone had left, then I went to talk to them. They’d been hovering in the corner all through the match, not even bothering to pretend to play. I had seen them looking over at me a few times.

  “Are you okay?” I asked Mel.

  She was sitting in the corner of the bench, her arms around her knees. Cass and Saanvi were standing in front of her, like a shield.

  “Yeah,” she said, not looking at me, “thanks.”

  “I just can’t believe it.”

  Mel didn’t look up as Saanvi and Cass folded back in around her. It was time for me to go. I’d said the wrong thing. How stupid to think that this might make us friends. I grabbed my bag and walked out the door, but stopped just around the corner, listening to see if they said anything about me.

  “I knew he was a perv!” Saanvi
exploded. “He’s too nice to everyone.”

  “So gross,” said Cass’s soft voice. “Makes my skin crawl.”

  “How do you think I feel?” Mel’s voice was so quiet I could barely hear it.

  “So what are we going to do?” Cass said.

  Mel’s voice rose slightly. “What can I do? If I go to the principal, it will become a huge big deal, everyone will find out. They’ll call my parents.”

  And I guess that meant the case was closed. There were a few moments of silence, just the squeak of shoes as they got changed. I was about to make a run for it; if they found me listening in it would be awful. Then I heard Mel’s voice again.

  “I feel so stupid.”

  “Shut up, Mel. Don’t do that,” Saanvi said.

  “No. It’s just—” her voice cracked, like she might cry “—he kept saying how talented I was and I believed him. He’s the whole reason I decided I wanted to be an actor.”

  Everyone was already scattered out on the oval for lunch, sitting on backpacks or jackets because the grass was wet. The clouds were a menacing gray; it would probably rain again soon. I pulled my hood over my hair, which was getting even fluffier from the damp air, and walked slowly toward our spot by the library. My thoughts were swimming. The anger I’d felt earlier had changed, turned into something coiling and sharp inside me. It wasn’t fair. Nothing was going to happen. Mr. Bitto was going to get away with it. Maybe I was naive, but up until then I’d always believed that justice prevailed. If someone did something wrong, I took it for granted that they’d be punished. It didn’t seem right that the only way for Mr. Bitto to get in trouble for being a creep would cause Mel more pain. I didn’t get why what he’d done was now her responsibility.

  It all went around and around in my head, until something else, the shadow that had been lurking in the back of my mind became clear.

  It’d been months since the man had broken into our house, but I still believed the police would find him. In some ways I was just waiting for it, sure that everything would go back to the way it was as soon as he was apprehended. That I’d feel safe again.