Outside In (5 page)

‘Yes,' Lee said, and it was such a short word to wobble.

‘Can you come out?'

‘No.'

Lee heard the toilet door in the next cubicle open. Jordan's hightops appeared in the gap.

‘You do really like him, don't you? Lee, I'm sorry. I didn't know. You never told me …'

Lee squeezed her eyes shut. It was true that she'd never actually told Jordan how she felt. But Jordan probably wouldn't have heard anyway. She was so … so absorbed in herself. So shut up inside her own world that she didn't share the real stuff of friendship with Lee.

Weren't they supposed to discuss how she felt about her parents? Weren't they supposed to talk about who they liked?

That's what friends did. But Jordan just made it impossible sometimes.

‘So, you didn't know that I like Jack?' Lee said, and she could hear the accusation in her own voice. Jordan should have known without being told. Cec did. So did Meredith. ‘No, you probably wouldn't have. You don't notice much, unless it's about you.'

Even while Lee was saying it, she felt awful. She felt mean. But she was so sick of Jordan not noticing, not knowing, when she should have.

Lee's heart thumped into the silence as she waited for Jordan to retaliate.

Finally, Jordan spoke. ‘Lee, I did know you liked him. But I didn't know it was serious. I thought it was just a crush and you would just … sort of move on …'

‘Like I did when Lucas didn't like me, you mean?' It was horrible, hearing the bitterness in her own voice. ‘Or when Rafe didn't?'

There was another pause. ‘Well, yeah, I guess.' Jordan's words came slowly. She was measuring them before she spoke. ‘You were amazing with all that, Lee,' she said. ‘You are so strong. You just sort of adapt. I can't adapt to anything, really. I can't even get my head around my mum and dad splitting. We still spend ages trying to figure out what we did wrong, me and Mum, to make him leave. I just get stuck somewhere, and there I am, forever. But you cope. That's part of the reason why everyone loves you.'

Lee wiped a tear with the back of her hand. It was strange to hear Jordan saying this stuff. Nice things about her. And it was strange to have Jordan finally give a hint of what she was feeling. But Jordan didn't know how it hurt to be rejected, ignored. She didn't understand that Lee had no choice.

‘I wasn't so strong. It hurt,' Lee said. ‘I just had to cope. Adapt.'

‘Could you give me some lessons?'

Lee looked up at the roof. She blinked away a tear.

‘Lee, I won't like him, OK? I just won't.'

Lee felt like she was melting.

Jordan was her friend. She could tell that the offer was genuine. But Jordan couldn't make what was happening with Jack go away. Not even Jordan could control that.

‘Jordan, he likes
you
. You can't do anything about that. I can't do anything about that.'

The hightops moved. Then, Jordan's head was in the gap. Her hair scraped the concrete floor. It must have been uncomfortable. Jordan was making an effort.

There was a cheeky smirk, some of the old Jordan in that upside-down face.

‘Maybe we can share him? You know, like my parents share me. You can have Wednesdays and every second weekend.'

Lee shook her head. She wiped away the last tear. There was a smile playing around the corners of her mouth, and it might have been a small one, tiny even.

But at least it was real.

Lee loved working with handmade paper. Paper that had lumps and bumps and texture. The kitchen table was littered with glue and textas. The three cards she had made were small. Each of them was decorated with a different picture.

The first was a line drawing of a ballerina, done in grey lead pencil. Lee smiled at her creation. She picked up a fine-tip gold texta and wrote the word ‘Grace'.

The second card showed a pair of point shoes, slightly worn out at the toes. Pink satin ribbon frayed at the edges. These were shoes that had done some hard work. Lee chose a silver texta. And the word she wrote this time was ‘Talent'.

The third card was more detailed. Lee had used glitter and colour to create a bunch of flowers. A bouquet of daisies, roses and tulips. It had taken ages. It had been such a delicate operation that Lee had almost forgotten about everything else while she worked.

Now that she was almost done, thoughts started hovering. They were locked outside her brain, but they were knocking now, waiting to get back in and smash the peace. Sharp little thoughts would sneak around the door into her mind, impatient to remind her why Jack couldn't like her, to remind her how ordinary she was.

Lee opened the third card. Slowly and carefully, she wrote the word inside. Those thoughts could wait. They could line up and bump into each other as much as they wanted, because right now, there was peace.

‘Cecilia.'

Lee stifled a yawn as Mr Moulton read out some old poem.

Last night had been late. Cecilia had been more amazing than ever, leaping and prancing across the stage as though her body could fly if she gave it that command. As though she was only staying close to the ground because she was following the rules of the dance performance. Lee had been dazed and dazzled. Just imagine being so great at something …

She had given a card to Jordan and one to Meredith. After the performance they had presented them to Cec. It had been awesome to see her surprise, her delight as she studied the messages. For a moment, Lee thought that Cec was going to cry. A darkness loomed over her delicate face like a storm cloud, and there was a little shake of her head, as if she didn't deserve such praise. Very Cec, always giving herself a hard time. Perfect wasn't quite good enough. For her.

But there was lots of laughter as Meredith started mucking around, doing a clunky version of Cecilia's performance that was totally, completely graceless. She had everyone in stitches.

It seemed weird how Cecilia refused to come to the pizza place afterwards. Weird how she said she was too tired when she actually looked really pumped. When Meredith tried to pressure her, she made some excuse about having to get up early in the morning to catch up on homework. It didn't sound like Cecilia; she was normally way ahead of everyone.

Actually, when Lee thought about it, Cec hadn't been out with them for quite a while. But she was probably making too much out of it. Worrying about nothing again. Cec was very busy with school and dancing. And last night, she must have just been tired, full stop. She obviously couldn't find her second wind to come out for pizza. At least she'd found her first. At least she had soared.

‘OK, people,' Mr Moulton called, his voice bringing Lee back into English class. ‘We've been under the skin of some of the best poets in history. Now let's see what you guys can come up with.'

Groans and moans ricocheted around the classroom. Mr Moulton was unmoved. He roved around the class like an actor, waving his arms about. Lee couldn't help but watch him. He switched on the CD player, letting instrumental music provide background while he provided the vocals.

‘Yep. Let's write a poem. It can be about you, or about someone special to you. Let's write about how we really feel about ourselves, or about how someone else makes us feel. Let's rip off our skin. Let's show our pulsing hearts!'

His chalk hit the blackboard with scribbled suggestions. They seemed to flow from his hand in time with the music.

Lee squinted at the board. Why would she want to expose her pulsing heart in a poem? It was already out there for everyone to see. What she needed was to learn how to hide it all deep inside her, not to let it onto a page. Not that she could actually do that properly, anyway. Not that she would be any
good
at it.

Lee looked around. Everyone had begun working. Cecilia had an arm protecting her page. Her head was bent in total concentration. She was probably writing something completely brilliant. Again.

Lee sketched a butterfly in the margins. She drew dots and patterns on its wings. Flew it down the page, letting those wings fold and unfold …

Looking around, Lee saw Dylan playing air guitar. He had picked out the violin part, and had his head thrown back and his eyes closed. Sam sat next to him, writing something in fits and starts.

Behind Sam, Lee could see the new girl, sitting at her regular table, alone again. It was amazing how intense she looked. Something seemed to be
spilling
out of her. Her pen moved swiftly, left to right, left to right, about five times before it stalled.

Lee watched her. The girl's pen was still on her paper, and her head was angled up as though she was catching thoughts from the air. Lee wondered what it would feel like to be able to do that. She wondered what it would be like having
smart
thoughts entering your mind and flowing into your pen.

The girl's head moved and she caught Lee staring. Lee smiled at her, embarrassed. The girl didn't seem to register the smile. She had a sort of invisible barrier around her, that girl. Maybe it blocked out the ordinary?

Soon, the girl's pen was moving again. Lee's page was still blank, except for the butterflies in the margin.

‘OK, pens down.' Mr Moulton switched off the music. ‘Would anyone like to share their poem with the class?'

He waited for volunteers, and then waited some more.

Lee made sure she had her head down in case he asked her. From the corner of her eye, she saw the new girl tentatively put up her hand. Mr Moulton was looking in the other direction, and didn't see it. By the time he looked her way again, the girl's hand was down. She must have changed her mind.

It was nice getting the patterns on the butterfly wings exactly right, taking into account how the perspective would alter as they opened and closed. Dots gave way to circles and half-circles.

Finally, Cecilia put up her hand. It was unusual for Cec. She was bright, Cec, but she was also pretty shy.

Cecilia's voice was soft and melodic from the front of the room.

‘Kindness leaps out from those blue eyes
Accidental. She doesn't know
Her beauty, but it's there
For itself. Not for show.'

Lee stopped drawing. She listened with her whole body, not just her ears. Her butterfly froze, mid-flap. She looked up from her page. There were eyes on her. A whole classroom of eyes, switching focus between Cecilia at the front of the room and Lee at the table.

Could it really be? Had Cec chosen to write a poem about
her
being special? No name had been mentioned. It might be just another thing she imagined, like all that stuff with Jack. She wasn't special. Was she?

‘She gives like there's no score
No debt to pay
She is just who she is
And it can make my day.'

A moment of silence stretched out.

‘A beautiful poem, Cecilia,' Mr Moulton said finally. ‘And clearly written for a beautiful friend.' He was looking directly at Lee. Seeing her.

Suddenly, everyone was clapping.

‘Nice one, Cec,' Jordan said, and it was kind of sweet that she looked at Lee, too.

‘That poem was
so
you!' Meredith added, giving Lee a friendly pinch on the thigh. It didn't hurt at all. Just sort of woke Lee up.

‘So, is anyone else going to volunteer?' Mr Moulton asked. There was no response. ‘No? It's a hard act to follow, I suppose. Well then, you can hand your work in without your names this time. We can have
anonymous
pulsing hearts.'

Lee blinked at Cecilia as she walked back to the table. Mr Moulton came around to collect their work. He glanced at Lee's butterflies, and smiled at her. A smile that said they were OK. Valid. Poetry in pictures, maybe?

Lee took a deep breath. She felt like her body was altering with the breath. Like it was making more space inside her for bigger thoughts.

And this one flooded the space like a wave. Cecilia had exposed a part of her that Lee didn't know existed. She had explained how she saw Lee, and everyone in class knew it was about her without being told. But the surprising thing was that it wasn't about Lee being blinky, or average, or normal.