‘Nora hasn’t had a go – you take her next, Noah!’ Poppy shouted, after celebrating her win over Harper, who was splashing around, trying to regain her footing.
‘It’s okay,’ I started, hoping to be excluded from the narrative.
‘Fuck no,’ Noah replied, one foul look in my direction apparently enough to decide I was not going to be going anywhere near his shoulders that day, or any day.
‘Go on, at least she’ll be lighter than Harper,’ Mara called.
Harper’s face fell and I saw her sink her totally normal and fine body under the water, leaving only her eyes and nose in view.
‘I’m okay, I don’t want to play,’ I replied, and swam towards Harper to try and show my support.
The game continued without us. Harper and I chatted for a bit, about our pets and about the upcoming transition to high school. Year Seven would move to become part of high school the following year, and I was glad we had scraped through with the extra year in primary school to prepare. Harper was going to a different school, and she seemed glad about that. I started to feel safe in her company, which was my next mistake.
‘Do you want to play mermaids?’ I asked, a game Olivia and I still enjoyed any time we holidayed somewhere that had a pool.
‘Mermaids?’ she asked, a sceptical look on her face.
‘Yeah,’ I replied, starting to sense my regret.
‘Oh my God, Poppy. Nora just asked me to play mermaids!’ she yelled, scathing, across the pool, to where Poppy and Mara were sitting on the edge, sunning their bodies.
‘Aww, that’s cute. We should play mermaids,’ Mara called back, her tone mocking and sharp.
Everyone in the pool stopped what they were doing and began to perform a mass, mocking rendition of the game I had so loved. They made jokes aboutH2O, and flopped their bodies like fish from one side of the pool to the other.
‘Come on, Nora. Join in,’ Poppy said, looking to those around her for support.
‘I’m okay,’ I replied, making my way slowly to the steps.
By the time I was getting out, all eyes were on me.
‘You know, if you’re old enough to have that many pubes, you’re probably too old to play mermaids,’ Mara said, pointing to the bottom of my swimsuit with one hand covering her mouth.
The shrieking intensified until I wrapped myself in my towel and went to sit in the cabana. The memory is cloudy after that. When Mum arrived, I told her I had a migraine, and she was thoroughly annoyed at her missed opportunity to drink wine with the other adults back in the house. I made things hard not being an easy child. Shame brings intense nausea recalling any of this, though in my angriest moments I have thought of a thousand nasty come-backs I should have responded with. Mum allowed me my own razor the following year.
7
Luke and I do not cross paths again until late afternoon. He catches me by surprise while I am convening with the raised vegetable beds, the perfect place to be alone and detach from uncomfortable feelings whilst also removing grasshoppers from the kale and lettuce that they are relentlessly demolishing. Plants have a way of quieting things.
‘How’s it going out here?’ he says, surveying the herbs and produce.
‘Pretty good,’ I reply, continuing my pest control as though my entire nervous system has not just activated in response to his unexpected appearance.
‘You know, I could make a call, put in a good word for you at the pub – they’re always looking for extra kitchen and wait staff around the holidays.’
‘I’m okay, thank you.’
Luke scoffs. Never have I heard someone scoff so often. He is the chairman of the scoffing society. I continue searching for hungry small green insects.
‘You’re too good to work hospitality, is that it?’
It is my turn to scoff, though I do not have the energy for a good one. It is a rather pathetic scoff, if I am being honest – scoff-worthy in and of itself. I would not even make the committee.
‘No. I would be terrible at it, though,’ I reply.
He laughs and says: ‘You’re not wrong there.’
‘I know.’
