Chapter 24
Dad was nice. It was the first time I had thought that in a whole year but it was true. At first he wanted to take me back to Bondi but I insisted that we didn’t stay with his friends that night. In fact, I wouldn’t even get out of the car.
“No, I just want to go. Please Dad, just take me back to the farm,” I said. He must have listened to the urgency in my voice because he didn’t even try to make me stay. Instead he just went in, made an apology to his friends, picked up our stuff and came back to the car.
“We won’t be home until late,” he said. “Can you do that?”
I nodded mutely. I could do anything as long as it meant I was out of range of Saffron and Tiger and Samantha and Darcy. I could even listen to soft pop radio and tolerate Dad singing along to the ‘best of the 80s and 90s’. We drove and drove and I put up with the fact that my tongue was dry and my mouth was raw and I felt like someone had punched me in the lungs. It was hard to get a full breath. Plus my legs were wet and my dress was sticking, clammy, to me.
“You alright, Coco?” said Dad.
“I’m okay,” I said. But I wasn’t. I was a loser, I was ugly, I had no future and my dreams of being somebody, being special and being significant had been bashed on a rock and left to die in the cold.
“It’s not long now.” Dad spoke again. “Another 40 minutes or so. We’ll be home soon.”
I let out a silent, bitter laugh. Home? My home was back in Sydney, or so I’d thought. For a whole year I’d held on to the idea that home was somewhere else, that the farm was temporary. I didn’t belong there. I’d put up with it for a while but ultimately, I thought, I was headed back to the place I belonged.
It’s just that now I didn’t belong there. Or anywhere. I’d been dumped by my group, I’d been betrayed by my best friend and I’d been let down in my hopes for Darcy. It wasn’t as if I had any other friends in Sydney either. Ever since Year Seven, Samantha and I had completely pinned our hopes on Saffron’s clique and ignored everyone else at school.
In Budgong, all that was waiting for me were my extra-special-at-everything-she-does twin sister, my annoying brother who didn’t even like me, and Tessa and James who were nice enough, but ordinary. But I’d dumped them, and in a terrible way. And they were all mad at me. It would be too much to ask them to have me back.
Outside the car window the moon was big, gold and hanging low in the sky. All I noticed was how little I was in comparison. I leaned my head against the car window. I had no energy to sit up and I had no energy to keep my anger and my betrayal hidden inside me. I sat there with my head cool on the window glass and tears falling out of my eyes onto my damp dress, running down my legs to the floor.
If Dad noticed, he didn’t say anything.
“Do you mind if we stop by the stables, sweetheart?” he said when we were nearly there. “Mum doesn’t have her phone with her and I need to tell her that we’re back. Is that okay?”
I nodded, silent. When we pulled up I stayed in the car. “I don’t really want to come in,” I said. “I’m too tired.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “I’ll be about five minutes.” He shut the door behind him and I sat, alone in the car, with the radio off. The silence reached up and pawed at my face until I slapped it away and opened my window. But that was the wrong decision. From the old building behind the stables I could hear giggles, warm voices and happy music.
My stomach ached, but it was with regret. I wanted to see what I had missed at Pony Camp, what I had thrown away as worthless. With my phone in my hand, I got out of the car and walked over to the window.
It was another wrong decision.
Inside were 25 teenagers, sitting around chatting, laughing and playing cards. The kerosene lanterns shone a warm glow on their faces. I could see Tessa and Charlie and Josh sitting together, with James a little apart. His eyes were on Charlie and he had a half-smile on his face. It looked like a party—but a real one. A good one.
I took a breath in and gulped back a sob. My neck hurt and my head felt like it had a million tiny pins pricking into it. It’s not fair, I began to say to myself. Nobody cares about me. Why do I have to suffer so much?
At that exact moment I felt the familiar purr of the phone in my hand. Immediately I was on alert. Who could be calling? And at this time? The only person I’d given the number to was Samantha, before the party, just in case she needed to get in touch. I doubted any of Mum’s friends would be ringing at midnight. I took a sudden breath. If it was Sam, surely it could only be good. Maybe she was ringing to apologise or to say that there had been some terrible misunderstanding.
I hardly dared to hope. I glanced down at the phone in my hand. It was a text. And it was from Samantha.
And she was saying sorry.
Really?
I read it. And then I read it again.
Hey Coco. Sorry about before. Are you dry yet? BTW I had to drop you. Dead if I didn’t. You understand, right?
My last hope had gone. It had been blown out like a little kid blows out her birthday candles, with a heavy dose of accidental spit. Sorry? Had to? Understand? Fire started in my heels and flowed in my veins all the way to my head. My rage was building. Was Sam for real? I had thought we were friends. Best friends. Real friends.
I could see her face when they had dropped me. It was smarmy, smiling, triumphant, like it was the easiest thing in the world to do. A sudden thought overtook my brain. I grabbed the phone and pressed reply.
Was it you who pushed me in the pool? I texted back. Her reply took less than four seconds. I was counting.
Oops. It just kinda happened.
And then in another second.
Darcy’s here. He still thinks u r cute.
It was then, right there, at that point that I could have screamed. But I didn’t. Because I was so angry I was beyond screaming. I was shaking. I was trembling. I was shivering, even though it was warm. My hands lost their control and I dropped my phone into the dark of the ground, but it didn’t matter. I was never going to text Samantha again. Or anyone else. Because I had no friends. And no hope of ever having any.
No. That wasn’t true. I had one friend. The best kind. The kind that was never going to betray me. And she was just here in the stables.
I ran across the grass in the dark and moved the heavy latch to open the stable door. The lock creaked but I hardly noticed. My thoughts were flying around and I was muttering and talking to myself, almost sobbing. I’ve just got to get Cupcake, I’m going to get Cupcake, I said, over and over. Something inside me was insisting that if I just went for a ride, everything would be okay. The anger and rage and energy that were fizzing like a shaken soda can would fly away into the air if I galloped with strong, warm Cupcake who could hold me up and make me okay again.
Cupcake was at the back of the stable, eating some hay. When I found her I buried my head in her neck. She nickered in recognition and nudged me with her head. I grabbed her bridle and it felt solid and secure in my hand. “You can see in the dark, right girl?” I said, quietly. “Want to go out with me?” I grabbed a helmet from the hook, latched it on and led Cupcake out of the door. The warm breeze was starting to turn chilly but I didn’t care. I could hardly think straight. I just knew I needed to get away.
Inside everyone was still laughing and joking and sitting by lamplight. I looked over at the windows shining their golden, warm, happy light and bitterly hoisted myself up to Cupcake’s bare back.
I leaned down to her ear to speak. “Come on,” I said. “Let’s go.”