Love-shy (21 page)

Read Love-shy Online

Authors: Lili Wilkinson

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BOOK: Love-shy
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Dad was still up when I got home, curled up on the couch reading something by Dostoyevsky and drinking herbal tea. I sat down by his feet.

‘Did you have a good time?' he asked, not glancing up from his book.

‘Yep,' I said, without much enthusiasm.

Dad nodded. I played with the tassels on a cushion.

‘Dad?'

‘Hmm?' He turned a page.

‘What would you do if your doctor told you that you only had six months to live?'

‘I'd get a second opinion.'

‘I'm serious.'

Dad closed his book, marking his place with a finger. ‘If my doctor told me I had six months to live?'

‘And your lifestyle wouldn't be impeded by your illness.'

Dad considered it. ‘I'd make sure I had enough money set aside to take care of you.'

‘And what else?'

‘I guess I'd use the rest to travel.'

‘Really?' I wasn't a loner loser freak like Nick, after all. Everyone wanted to travel. Who didn't want to see as much of the world as possible before they had to leave it?

‘I'd go to Machu Picchu. And Angkor Wat. And New York, because I know how much you want to go there—'

‘Wait,' I said. ‘I'm there too?'

Dad laughed. ‘Of course you are,' he said. ‘I'm not going anywhere without you.'

‘But what if I wanted to do different things to you? Go to different places?'

‘We'd figure something out.'

‘But it's your last chance to do what you want. Do you really want to have to compromise?'

Dad seemed puzzled. ‘Well, there'd be no point seeing all those places unless I had someone to share them with.'

I undid my shoelace, and then did it back up again.

‘Penny?' Dad touched my shoulder. ‘Are you okay?'

I nodded, then straightened up and smiled at him. ‘Don't you want Josh to come, too? On our round-the-world tour?'

‘Would that be okay with you?'

‘Of course!' I said. ‘You know I like Josh.'

‘I know.'

‘And . . . well, isn't he part of our family now?'

Dad smiled – and I think he actually blushed.

I took his hand and squeezed it. ‘You know, Dad, if you ever want to ask Josh to move in here with us . . . it's fine with me.'

Dad looked surprised, then leaned over to give me a hug.

‘I love you, kiddo,' he said.

‘I love you too,' I replied, and I meant it. I wondered if Nick had ever said those words. Or whether anyone had ever said them to him. I wondered if anyone ever would.

I couldn't help myself. I needed to know that Nick was okay, that he hadn't done something stupid. I'd just check his blog this one last time. Then I'd give up.

08:27
There's a party on tonight. I've been invited, not by the hostess, but still. An invite is an invite. I haven't been invited to a party since I was six.
I'm going to go. I
must
go. I
can
control this thing.
What should I wear? I've pulled every item of clothing out of my wardrobe, and can find nothing. I can't wear what I've worn to school before. I need special party clothes. What are special party clothes?

Nick
had
wanted to go to the party? That meant that he didn't hate me. Well, that was something.

13:18
I've just spent three hours looking at YouTube videos of teen parties to get a feel of what it will be like. Will there be alcohol? Should I drink any? Would I be expected to provide my own alcohol? What's the protocol? The last time I went to a birthday party, there was a cake with candles and Pass the Parcel and Pin the Tail on the Donkey. I took a present wrapped up in shiny yellow paper, and a card in a purple envelope. Then I had a panic attack at the front door and had to be taken home. Should I take a gift? A card? A packet of chips?
I've already showered three times today. I don't want to smell bad. I might put on some more deodorant.

16:02
What if someone tries to talk to me? I'll say the wrong thing, and they'll learn I'm not worth speaking to. Then I'll just be on my own and everyone will stare at me and whisper and know that I'm the one, the loser who everyone hates. I won't even be invisible anymore, I'll be naked and exposed and they'll laugh and jeer and it will be like summer camp all over again.
I can't go.
I can't.
I can't do it.

18:29
I have to go. I
will
. I need to do this. I'm going to have another shower to calm my nerves, then get dressed and go.

21:48
I didn't go.
I wanted to. I had eight showers today, washed and dried my outfit twice, and laid it out on my bed. Then when I came back from my last shower, I froze in the middle of my room, wearing a towel around my waist. I couldn't do it. I couldn't get dressed. It was like I'd been paralysed. I stood there for an hour, shivering.
I'll never get better. This is it. This is my life. Nothing will ever change.

I switched off my computer, feeling a bit sick. I wished I'd been stronger, braver. I wished I'd been able to help Nick. I wished I hadn't fled from his house the other night. I wished I'd never gone there in the first place. I wished I'd never heard of love-shyness.

Never having failed,
I could not picture
what failure meant.

NELLIE BLY

12

A
S I HEADED FOR MY LOCKER
after Maths on Monday morning, Ms Tidy stopped me in the hallway. ‘How's everything going, Penny?'

I shrugged. ‘Fine.'

‘Are you sure?' she said. ‘You seemed a little distant in Friday's meeting.'

‘Sorry,' I said. ‘I've been working on that new story.'

‘Of course,' said Ms Tidy. ‘The mystery story. Look, Penny, maybe you could take over the story on the Home Economics picket as well. Arabella's writing really isn't up to scratch. And just in case this feature you're planning doesn't work out. If it does, then we'll run it on the front page and the vegan picket can go on page four. In fact, I've already emailed you Arabella's notes. Is that all right?'

I smiled. ‘Of course.'

‘Great,' said Ms Tidy, brightening. ‘The other thing is, I'd really like to see a draft by the end of lunch today, so I can run it by the principal's office. Sensitive issue, you know how it is.'

‘Of course,' I said. ‘I'll do it now.'

Rin came bouncing up to my locker as I was putting away my books. ‘I had
so
much fun at the party,' she said. ‘Thank you so much for taking me!'

‘Not a problem,' I said. ‘I'm glad you enjoyed yourself.'

‘I did!' Rin sighed happily. ‘I wish I could go to a party every weekend.'

I shuddered. Sounded like my idea of hell. ‘Well, you know the social is coming up soon. Do you have a ticket?'

Rin nodded. ‘I told my parents we'd be going together. That's okay, isn't it? They like you because you're responsible and have your whole career planned out.' She rolled her eyes.

‘Um, yeah,' I said. ‘Sure. That's fine.'

Rin clapped her hands. ‘What are you going to wear?' she asked. ‘Do you think anyone'll ask me to dance?'

‘I'm sure they will,' I said. ‘Look, Rin, I can't really talk right now.'

Her face fell a little. ‘Oh.'

‘Sorry,' I said. ‘I have to write this article for the paper. But I'll see you later, okay?'

Rin nodded and gave me an impulsive hug. ‘Oh!' she said. ‘I almost forgot. Did you finish reading the manga I gave you? Because I have the latest volume of
Battle Vixens
, if you want to borrow it.'

‘That'd be . . . great.' I'd completely forgotten about the books Rin had lent me.

‘Ace!' she said, and skipped off.

I closed my locker door to find Hamish standing behind it. I started. ‘Could you try to be a little less creepy?'

‘I want her number,' he said.

‘What? Whose number?'

‘Rin's.'

I blinked. ‘I thought you liked
me
.'

Hamish shrugged. ‘But she likes manga,' he said. ‘Plus I can't be bothered playing your hard-to-get game.'

My mouth fell open. ‘My
what
? I'm not playing any kind of game! I'm not hard to get – I'm not
available
.'

‘Whatever. So can I have her number?'

‘No,' I said, mostly because Hamish was being a creep, but also because I hadn't actually saved Rin's number to my phone. ‘If you want to ask her out, you should give her
your
number.'

‘Are you crazy?' he said. ‘What if she laughs at me?'

‘Then the seas will boil and a plague of frogs will rain down from the sky,' I said. ‘Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to the library.'

I turned on my heel and stalked down the hallway, only to be waylaid by Hugh Forward. ‘What is it
now
?' I snapped.

Hugh raised his eyebrows. ‘I just need you to sign off on the social budget so we can put in the catering order.'

I took a deep breath and resisted the urge to push him out of the way. ‘Can it wait until lunchtime? I'm kind of busy right now.'

‘They need it by midday,' said Hugh. ‘Come on, it'll only take a minute.'

I sighed and followed him to the office, where the secretary spent far too long searching for the right form and a stamp.

‘Looking forward to the debate?' asked Hugh.

‘Sure,' I said shortly, glancing at my watch.

‘I hear St Catherine's is the other school in the final. They should be pretty easy to beat.'

‘Yep.'

Hugh cocked his head. ‘Are you okay?' he asked. ‘You seem a little preoccupied.'

‘Well, I
was
in the middle of something when you dragged me here,' I said.

He chuckled. ‘You really are in a bad mood today,' he said. ‘Worse than usual.'

What was that supposed to mean?
Worse than usual
. I wasn't normally in a bad mood. I wasn't in a bad mood
now
, I just had to write this stupid article for Ms Tidy. Who cared if the Vegan Alliance wanted to picket the Home Ec room? Home Economics was an elective, so if the vegans didn't want to learn how to make an omelette, they should take metalwork or graphic design.

‘Here we are,' said the secretary, producing a piece of paper. I scribbled my name on it and left Hugh to finish all the administrative nonsense. I was halfway up the stairs to the library when the bell went for third period. I groaned. I'd have to write the article at lunchtime.

I headed to the library as soon as the lunch bell rang. I could easily dash off the Vegan Alliance article and have it to Ms Tidy by the end of lunch.

I trawled the National Institute of Food Technology's website, and found some statistics about the proportion of vegetarian dishes made in Home Economics classrooms. Arabella had already collected some quotes from the picketers, and a response from Mr Delaney, the Home Ec teacher. I just had to pull it all together. If I'd had more time I would have done some more in-depth research about civil rights and possibly the differences between public-school Home Economics curriculums and, say, the programs at Jewish or Muslim schools, or schools with a high percentage of Hindu students. But I didn't have time, and frankly it wasn't as if anyone would notice if I put in a little less effort than usual.

‘Um.'

It was Nick looming over me. My heart started to hammer. ‘Hey,' I said, feeling strangely awkward.

He stood there for a moment, biting his lower lip. ‘Do you want to take a walk?'

I looked at my computer screen. I'd written one hundred and fifty words. But I could finish it later. The principal didn't really need to see it, and it was only going to layout this afternoon. It wouldn't actually go the printer for at least another week.

‘Sure.'

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