Ocean Pearl (14 page)

When I woke up this morning I felt like I'd been run
over by a semi-trailer. It had reversed back over me then
forwards again just to make sure I was absolutely and
totally flattened.

It seemed this year I was setting quite a record for
the worst days and nights of my life. But yesterday, day
and
night, broke any record of probably any seventeen-year-old girl in the whole of Australia.

Luckily, today was a new day, although it didn't
start too well. I hadn't even got out of my pyjamas and
Micki had already busted me going through Georgie's
things, searching for her phone. But I was dying to read
the texts Jules had sent her.

Now I'd spoken to Jules, I realised they weren't that
interesting. Not that I'd thought they would be.

I had called Jules just as he was heading down to
meet Georgie. I wasn't being a bitch. I wasn't being the
possessive, clingy girlfriend. But I said to him, 'Jules, I
really don't want you to meet Georgie this morning.'

Jules moaned and whinged and said he didn't like
breaking arrangements with people. So I told him what
I didn't want to tell him: 'Jules, the only reason Georgie
is taking you for a surf is because she's trying to get
at me.'

He didn't say anything so I kept going. 'I have done
nothing to Georgie. Nothing! But she's been totally out
to get me since the moment I arrived. Honestly, Jules,
she's been horrible,' I said. 'She'll stop being weird
soon. I don't exactly know when but she will stop.
Then, I don't mind how many times you go surfing
with her. But wouldn't you rather go surfing with me?'

'I've got to go, Ace,' Jules replied.

'You're not mad with me?'

'No. I'm not mad with you.'

Georgie didn't tell me that Jules stood her up. I
didn't ask either. It was so obvious. She sulked through
breakfast and then again in the nutritionist's session.
Not once did she open her mouth, which was very
un-Georgie.

When Andy Wallace arrived she didn't say hello
plus she went from being the star surfer yesterday to
not even bothering to try today. What an idiot! She
could have missed an opportunity of a lifetime.

Andy's speech on looking for new faces had spun
me out a bit. But mostly that was because he hadn't
told me himself. Last meeting, Andy had mentioned
that Ocean Pearl was looking to expand their range.
Obviously I knew that I couldn't model and represent
everything. It was only a matter of time before OP
sponsored some other surfers. But as their number one
girl, I would've liked to have been informed, not just
find out with all the others.

So, after our surfing session I told Andy I wanted to
talk to him. We arranged to meet after lunch in Carla's
office.

I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth and
pinning up my hair when I heard someone walk into
the bungalow.

'Hello?' I called.

I opened the bathroom door to see Georgie plonking
herself down on her bed.

'Are you okay?' I asked.

She ignored me. So I said, 'Jules didn't turn up this
morning?'

'Nah.'

Georgie looked so miserable with her big, sad puppy
dog eyes and droopy mouth. I suddenly felt bad. 'He
probably just forgot.'

I wondered what it was like being Georgie. She
wasn't ugly and it wasn't that she wasn't pretty. It was
like she'd never grown out of being a tomboy. When
you're a ten-year-old girl, being a tomboy is cute. But at
fifteen, I think guys like girls to be girls.

'Are you meeting him now?'

'Jules?' I said.

'Yeah.'

'No,' I answered, sucking in my cheeks so I could hit
the bronzer exactly on my cheekbones. 'I have a
meeting with Andy in Carla's office.'

'Oh.'

'Hey, did you notice Micki French-braided her hair
this morning?'

'Yeah.'

'We taught her that. Remember?'

'She likes wearing her hair like that when she surfs.
It keeps it out of her face.'

'Micki's surfing is awesome. Don't you reckon?'

'Yeah.'

Now the puppy eyes were starting to annoy me. It
was her fault that she stuffed up her surfing in front of
Andy. It wasn't the end of the world either. All she had
to do was give Andy the tape of her carving it up
yesterday and he'd say, 'Sign on the dotted line.'

In the mirror, I noticed Georgie watching me as I put
on my earrings.

The puppy face wasn't 'cause Georgie thought she'd
had a chance with Jules? No! Even though she was
being horrible at the moment she was still my Starfish
Sister. She wouldn't do that.

Andy Wallace was the marketing brains of Ocean Pearl.
He had taken the brand all the way to America. The
reason they were getting into more products, like
wetsuits, surfboards and skis, was because OP had
been a hit in the USA.

Mum and I had got excited when we heard they
were taking it to America 'cause we thought maybe I'd
be the OP girl there. Bummer for us, they picked a girl
from Hawaii instead. Personally, I didn't think she was
that photogenic. Her nose was quite flat. But she had
an awesome body and she surfed.

One of the things I was going to suggest to Andy
was a story profiling me and her as the two Ocean Pearl
girls. Compare our lives, the different cultures, our
hopes for the world – it could be really interesting. I
was certain all the mags would fight for it. We could
even do a modelling shoot together.

The other brain of Ocean Pearl was Samara Hoy.
Samara was the artistic one. She designed the stuff and
came up with the concept for each season. One of the
bikinis was even named after her: 'Samara', a cheeky
one with tiny Brazilian bottoms. That was the cossie
Tim had liked me to wear when I went to watch him
surf.

I'd never told anyone this, but I had a secret hope
that one day they'd call one of the bikinis after me.
'Ace'. Maybe Samara would even let me design it.

Lightly, I touched the top of my head. The pins
hadn't moved. In Daryl's words, 'all my sins were
covered'.

Andy was sitting at Carla's desk, staring out the
window.

'Hello?'

'Ace!' He jumped up like I'd given him a fright.
'Come on in. Sit down.'

'You looked like you were in another world.'

'I probably was,' he answered. 'I'm glad you called
this meeting as there are a few things up for discussion,
aren't there?'

I smiled then crossed my hands on the desk. 'Andy,
I was wondering about what you meant down at the
beach. You said OP was looking for new girls. Of
course I understand that. I can't model and represent
everything and the way the brand is expanding, it – it
makes sense to sponsor other girls. That was just the
first I'd heard of it.' Again I checked that the pins were
in place. 'I just would have rather you'd told me about
it first.'

'Did you tell Samara you were cutting your hair?'

'Pardon?'

'Your hair?' Andy continued. 'Does Samara know
you got it cut?'

'No.' I forced my hands to stay on the desk. Had the
pins moved when I'd just touched my head? Was there
a sin poking through? 'If there's a problem I can always
get extensions.'

'No need.' Andy smiled then crossed his hands on
the desk too. 'OP is going to have a big overhaul. You
know, like when you build a new house you get new
furniture.'

'Yes?'

'So, we're getting new girls and injecting a whole
new vibe into the brand. OP isn't only looking for
surfers.' Andy slapped each finger as he rattled off the
list. 'Snow skiers, snow boarders, ironwomen, body-boarders.'

'So OP will be their product sponsor? Is that what
you mean?'

'Pretty much,' Andy answered. 'If they fit the bill as
an OP girl, that is. We'll still have
the face
of OP. You
know, that one OP girl who truly represents the brand.'

'Oh good.' I wiped my hands along my jeans.

'Samara's started working on the bikinis for . . .
hmm.' Andy stretched then scratched his head. 'It'd be
the summer after this one.'

'Yeah, 'cause I've already done the shoot for this
coming summer.'

'How old will you be the summer after that?'

'Nineteen.' There was one more thing Andy hadn't
mentioned. One more thing I needed to hear just to
make sure everything was fine. 'Andy, it's great I'm
here, isn't it?'

'You must be happy, Ace.'

'I am going to work so hard. I am going to make that
team, Andy.'

'Good girl, Ace. I really hope you do.'

Andy stood up. Was that it?

'I'm here for a couple of days,' he said.

So what he was really saying was that he didn't
have time to chat now. I knew he loved our little talks.
He used to always ask me about Tim and me and other
high profile surfers I knew and what everyone was
up to.

'Are you waiting to see the other girls who arrive
tomorrow?'

'Yeah and just mooching around.' Andy held the
door open for me. 'Getting to know everyone.'

'I've got a Swiss ball class now. Just a one on one.'

'Good for core strength,' Andy replied as he walked
me out to the hallway. 'Ace, what's Micki like?'

'She's lovely,' I said. 'I think she's had a pretty tough
life. She doesn't go on about it though. Her mum died
from cancer when she was little and her dad, I don't
know if he has cancer too, but he's in and out of
hospital a lot.'

'And she's how old?'

'Only thirteen. Poor little thing.'

Then Andy asked the weirdest question: 'Ace, how
would you describe a pearl?'

'You mean, a pearl pearl?' I frowned. 'Like the ones
you wear?'

'Like an ocean pearl.'

'White, round,' I said. 'Look really good in people's
ears. Um?'

'Okay.'

That wasn't just the weirdest question, that was the
weirdest meeting too.

But Andy told me everything I needed to know. I
got all the answers. So why did I have that same feeling
I get when I think I've left my hair straightener on and
burnt down the apartment?

I was still going to be the face of OP. The only difference
was that there were going to be other faces – but
just product-sponsored ones smiling with their Ocean
Pearl skis or bodyboard. Andy said himself that there'd
still be that one girl who represents the whole of OP.
There was nothing to stress about.

Apart from preparing for a big surf contest and
certain times when I was going out with Tim, I didn't
used to get stressed. Kia was a stress cadet. She got
stressed over the tiniest and the biggest things.

At the January camp, I remember lying in bed those
last few nights wondering how Kia could cut herself
like that. I just didn't get what made her do it. What
made her actually pick up the scissors and do that? It
was like trying to understand language that my ears
had never been programmed for.

It's not that I understood it now, but what I
did
get
was how bad feelings could become. For the last five
months I had permanently felt like I'd left my straightening
iron on. I'd wake up and this sinking feeling like
I'd swallowed my heart overnight would be my
morning greeting.

I pushed my nose against the glass doors at the end
of the corridor and looked out at the garden and tennis
courts. On the lawn was an ibis digging its black curved
beak into the grass. In out, in out, it kept going.
Whatever it wanted, that bird wasn't going to give up
till it got it.

Finally life was getting better. I felt like I'd been
given a second chance. Luck had left Megan and come
to me. Now it was my turn to keep it going. Because
there was one thing I was certain of: I was never, ever
going to feel like that loser again.

Deja vu. We were sitting in a circle in the rec room,
checking one another out in the meet-and-greet session
with the new girls. Laura, the one from Sydney, was
going to step on her tongue if she wasn't careful. She
had not stopped gawking at Ace. That was fine 'cause
Laura was a big-wave surfer like me, so hopefully she'd
be busy gawking at Ace in the water too and miss out on
all the good waves.

Jussie and Steph, the girls from Victoria who seemed
to do everything together, had just finished their
speech and were handing the microphone to the third
girl from Victoria, called Zena.

'Hi, I'm Zena, I'm sixteen. I started surfing when I
was about seven 'cause I have three older brothers and
that's where they used to babysit me. In the surf.'

I wondered if Zena's big brothers were cute. They
were probably too old for me. Besides, I had sworn off
cute guys forever. Actually, ugly guys too. Just guys, full
stop. I was allergic to them. Or more likely, they were
allergic to me.

Kia was right. I was going to end up as one of those
creeps in late-night chat rooms. At least I had time to
get used to the idea. Better realising it at fifteen than
twenty-five.

Yesterday, Jules did text me: 'So sorry. Feel bad. I'll
try and call lata.'

He mustn't have felt that bad because 'lata' never
came. No call. No text. Just the big silent treatment.

But all night, Ace seemed to be going back and forth
messaging from her phone. Jules hadn't dropped off
the planet or spontaneously combusted. He just didn't
want to talk to me.

'And I'm not sure if you remember, Courtney,' Zena
said, smiling at Ace, 'but we were at the same school.
Primrose Grammar, at Mornington. I was in the year
below.'

'Yeah,' Ace said. 'I went to Primrose Grammar. I left
towards the middle of year nine.'

'You went out with my brother. Only for a bit
though. Patrick. Patrick Michaels.'

'Patrick Michaels?' She looked at the rest of us and
laughed. 'He was the cute one, wasn't he?'

'What a small world,' Carla said, winding Zena up to
a finish. 'Thanks, Zena.'

Ace had begun to giggle. Laura from Sydney had
gone out in sympathy and was giggling too. Carla
saved me from having to slap Ace around by putting an
end to it herself.

'Okay, Ace. Thank you.' Carla tapped on the microphone
for some hush. 'Girls, this is a very important
week. Actually, it's not even a week. It's just six days,
six very tough days, but if you want to be in the
Australian team, if you want the honour of representing
your country, then you've got to earn it.'

The friendly meet-and-greet vibe evaporated in one
second flat. I looked around the room. All the girls were
suddenly sitting up straight and nodding with each of
Carla's words.

It was going to be tough. There were eight of us but
four places in the team.

'This selection process is more than just a day's
contest on Friday,' Carla said. 'It's twenty-four hours a
day for the next five days. Not only with your surfing
but in your attitude and the way you conduct yourself
while you're here. Today won't count. I want to give
the girls who've just arrived time to settle in. But as
from tomorrow, Sunday, June twenty-first, the selection
process begins. We're not going to spoonfeed you
and drag you out of bed and do a headcount at every
session. It's up to every one of you individuals to push
yourself. And we will know who is pushing themselves
and who isn't. Okay? All clear?'

Zena's gaze was flicking from one girl to the next.
She was sizing us up and checking out her competition.
At this moment, probably all of us were doing the exact
same thing.

If only I had a crystal ball. Then I'd know which one
of these hopeful faces would have their dream shattered
at the end of the week. Would it be me? Would it
be Ace again? What about Kia? If she didn't make it,
would she start cutting herself again?

Micki's hands were holding the sides of her chair. I
could even see her knuckles turn pink as she squeezed
and listened. Something told me Micki would make it.
She was hungry enough and boy, did she deserve it.

*

The rest of the morning was open for free surfing. I
reckon Jake organised it like that so we could all get in
there and see what we were up against.

The most likely formation for the team would be
two powerful big-wave surfers and two who could pull
off their tricks on virtually no swell. That usually meant
smaller girls like Kia and Micki and, by the looks of her,
Zena too.

I put on my leg rope and breathed in the salty air.
The sun was low in the sky and the wind coming off the
ocean could snap freeze the tip of your nose, but still,
for the middle of winter it was an almost perfect day.

The surf was offshore and walling up beautifully.
Maybe today I could show Andy Wallace a few of my
tricks without looking like the idiot I did yesterday. At
least my nosedives and crazy doughnuts provided a
few laughs.

Yesterday was just a bad day. In and out of the water.
As Steve, my surfing coach at home, would say, 'Learn
from it, then put it behind you and move on.'

It was easy to learn from my mistakes in the surf. At
least, the one mistake I kept making over and over
again yesterday. I wasn't dragging my arm into the
wall of the wave enough. I was so pissed off and humiliated
from my experiences on land that when I got into
the water, I couldn't get my centre right. My bum was
in the air, my shoulders were stiff and my timing was
off. Basically, I was all over the place.

But stuffing up a backside barrel was easy to fix. I
just had to put my hand in the wall and relax my upper
body. That's how you executed good backside grab
rails. The rest followed.

Learn, put it behind you, move on. Done!

I could hear Jake and Andy cheering from the beach
as I paddled back out for my next slaughter.

But how did I do that on land? Learn, put it behind
you, move on. It wasn't that simple.

Sitting at the rock, checking my watch every thirty
seconds, thinking every guy walking towards me was
Jules – I never ever wanted to be that stupid again.

We had arranged to meet down the south end at 6.40
am. So why at 7.30 am was I still sitting there, ignoring
the brick that was starting to settle in my stomach?

Because somehow I'd got this crazy idea that Jules
liked me. It was nothing he'd said; it was certainly
nothing he'd done. It was just this feeling I'd got from
him. Correction, got from myself. Imagined. What a loser!

Karma. That was the other side to this. I was being
punished for liking someone else's boyfriend. Breaking
that rule probably made me a double loser.

As much as Ace pissed me off at the moment, she
was still my friend and we all knew the number one
rule. Baby girls are born with that knowledge. The
information is engraved into their brains. That's their
first thought before they even remember to cry.

A newborn can't say 'Mamma' or 'Dadda'. It doesn't
know that the colour of the sun is yellow. In fact, it
doesn't even know there is a sun,
but
a newborn does
know that when you grow up to become a big girl you
don't steal your friend's boyfriend!

So what the hell had I been thinking?

The set that'd just started moving through was
walling up so perfectly you could hang paintings on it.
I swung around and started digging my arms through
the water. I was going to pick this off.

In a matter of seconds, I was up, making the drop,
then skating across the face. It was like being able to
run up and down the walls in a Disney cartoon.

Andy, Jake and a few others were probably
watching me from the beach. There I was out on view
for everyone to see. Georgie, the idiot who actually
thought Jules liked her. They could point and laugh
and say, 'Who was she kidding!'

So I crouched low and pulled into the barrel. Inside
here, I could hide. My very own private room away
from everyone. I stood up and stretched my arm, my
fingertips skimming the ceiling. The wave felt soft and
smooth like perfect silk. Through the tiny hole of the
barrel I could see the outside, waiting for me to return.
That was the thing, you could never escape reality. No
matter how much you wanted to.

Behind me, I could hear the water hiss and spit. It
was almost like it was saying, 'Time to go, Georgie.
Time to face your mess.'

'Woooooo,' I yelled, as the barrel spat me back out
into the world.

It didn't matter how rotten you felt, getting
barrelled was the best. Time stopped. Your senses went
on overdrive. Nothing could beat it. Nothing.

I was smiling and laughing. It had left me on a
total high – and all I wanted to do was tell Jules how
fantastic it felt.

*

'So, what's your bungalow like?' Steph asked. She and
Jussie were following me up the walkway. 'We stayed
in the dolphin one last time. And this time we're in the
Seahorse Bungalow.'

'Come and check it out,' I told them.

'Does your bathroom have starfish tiles?' Jussie said.
''Cause the bathroom in the Dolphin Bungalow had
dolphin ones and the bathroom in the Seahorse –'

'Yeah, yeah, I get it. It's got starfish tiles.'

'If they'd put you four in the Dolphin Bungalow,
would you have asked to move?'

Steph and Jussie weren't joking. They were seriously
asking me that, even though Steph didn't bother
to stop for the answer. 'You guys must be so happy to
be back together. It must've been amazing when
Courtney turned up.'

'Mmm.'

'When we were here before, Jake showed us the tag
team trophy you won back in January. The engraving
says "The Starfish Sisters"
.
He was telling us how close
you are.'

'Yeah and at lunch,' Jussie added, 'Ace and Kia were
explaining how you'll all be the godmothers of one
another's kids and that.'

I stopped at the front door of our place wondering
how long I was going to have to keep hearing this.

'That Starfish Sisters thing was really last camp.'

'Oh?' Jussie grunted, then frowned at Steph and
shrugged.

I opened the door to our bungalow that looked like a
tornado had whipped through it. 'Excuse the mess. Ace
is used to having servants.'

Jussie let out a little gasp. She believed that too.
Wow, Jussie and Steph, they were a couple of little
Einsteins.

Steph went and checked out the bathroom. 'Yeah,
starfish tiles, Jussie,' she called.

I went and lay on my bed while they did their
inspection. I wondered if they were going to give us a
score. Perhaps bungalow hygiene had become part of
the selection process.

My mobile was flashing 'message'. The brick landed
back in my stomach. Dread. I knew who this was from.
But what would it say?

'Have you girls almost finished?' I asked.

'Hey?'

'I really need to go to the toilet.'

I pulled a face that was meant to say 'In a moment
there's going to be an explosion. Stay at your own risk!'

'Sorry,' said Jussie, giggling. 'Come on, Steph.'

'See you later,' I called.

'Bye, Georgie,' they chimed together.

My heart was thumping. It was hard to swallow. The
brick in my tummy now felt so heavy it was hard to lift
my feet.

My finger pressed 'message'. It was from Jules.
Three messages actually.

8.11 am: 'when is a good time to call?'

10.42 am: 'where r u?'

12.39 pm: 'georgie I need to speak 2 u. call me.'

I dropped my phone on the bed and began to walk
around in circles, which probably wasn't a good idea as
my head was already spinning.
Should I call him back?
What does he want? Maybe he does really . . . no, no he
doesn't. Don't go back into that, Georgie! Remember: learn,
put it behind you, move on. But if I don't call back then . . .

'I'm going to call you, boy!' I said out loud.

I took a deep breath and pressed Jules's number. He
picked up straightaway.

'Georgie?'

'Hey.' My tomato face was already burning. 'Got
your messages.'

'Thanks for calling back. I wouldn't blame you if you
didn't. I feel hell bad about yesterday.'

'It doesn't matter,' I lied. 'I had a good surf anyway.'

'Yeah?'

'Yeah. So?' I bit my lip. Was I going to live to regret
this? 'So, what did you want to talk to me about?'

'It's – it's sort of complicated.'

'What?'

'Is there any way you can meet me somewhere?'

'What? Like now?'

'Can you?'

It was 2.20 pm. Nothing was scheduled until 3.00 pm.
Besides, that wasn't going to get in my way and I knew
it. 'I could try.'

'The rock?'

'I don't really want to go via the beach.'

'Sure. How about where I saw you the other day?
Outside the mini mart.'

'Okay.'

'Ten minutes.'

'Y – ep.' I was almost choking.

'Great! Great.'

My hand almost dropped the phone it was shaking
so much. Jules had said 'great' and he sounded like he
meant it too.

It was a toss-up between jumping in the shower,
washing my hair and getting changed, which I could
probably do in ten minutes, versus leaving now
looking the way I did, which was pretty shabby, but
being on time and having twenty-five minutes with
Jules instead of fifteen.

Twenty-five won. Maybe it'd end up being twenty-two
'cause I wasted three minutes brushing my hair,
cleaning my teeth and slapping on a bit more deodorant.

I had to get out without being seen. I couldn't even
think about what the hell I was actually doing until I
was safely on the road. Then – then I could slow down
and take a big breath and think about that.

The back path to the tennis courts was clear. I put
my head down and ran. I was three seconds to
freedom. My hands were literally on the gate, undoing
the latch, when I heard a voice behind me.