Oliver grins. “Did I scare you?” he asks, sitting beside me.
“No,” I lie. History’s one of the few classes we share, but he sits with Richard. “What are you doing here?”
It comes out ruder than I expect, and Oliver makes a face, pretending he’s offended. “I can leave if you want.”
“No! Sorry. I’m … surprised.” Why is he sitting with me today? I check my reflection in the window, but I look no prettier than usual. At least my skin is clear.
“So, have you talked to Noah yet?” he asks.
“Not yet,” I say, “I’m waiting for the perfect opportunity.”
“Oh?”
I nod. “I want to catch him by himself. He’ll be more receptive, you know? I don’t want to embarrass him in front of his friends.”
“Good idea,” Oliver says as Mrs Rodgers enters the room. It always takes her five minutes to start the class, so Oliver keeps talking. “I don’t know how you’re going to get him alone, though. Isn’t he always surrounded by people?”
“You’re right,” I say, tapping my chin. “It’s okay, though, I’ll find a way.”
He grins at me. “It almost sounds like you’re seducing him.”
“No! How?”
“Getting him alone,” Oliver begins and I slap his arm.
“It’s not like that — oh, are you okay?” I snatch my hand back when he makes a pained face.
“No, it’s fine,” he says, smiling. Of course I didn’t hurt him. Oliver’s lanky, but not weak. In fact, his body is quite toned. Not that I’ve been paying attention. I’m just observant.
Mrs Rodgers begins the class and Oliver contributes to the class as often as I do, which makes me feel less like a try-hard. We discuss the Iron Curtain and read primary sources. When we do individual activities, Oliver chats to me about my weekend.
I don’t get flattered by all of his questions, because Ruby always tells me he pretends to be interested in everybody, so they’ll love him more than they love her.
It’s when Mrs Rodgers starts on a long lecture about Berlin when I seehimthrough the window. Noah Rosselli. He’s hurrying with his shoulders curved over, hands shoved in pockets. Is he shuddering with shame from cheating off my test?
Instead of walking to the bathrooms, he walks to the oval. What is he doing? Playing footy in the middle of class? He could get away with it. I bet he gets away with everything.
But he turns to the eucalyptus-green sports shed. The door is unlocked. Of course it is. Is everything easy for him? He disappears inside, and the door shuts.
Is he grabbing a football, stealing sports supplies from the school? Why now, in the middle of class?
My body reacts before my mind and I stand up and mouth “bathroom?” at Mrs Rodgers before I can comprehend what I’m doing. She nods at me without pausing her lecture. There’s nothing suspicious about going to the bathroom.
I rush past other humanities classrooms and circle the water fountain dedicated to a founder of the school, before heading towards the sports shed.
Whatever Noah’s doing, it’s suspicious. Maybe I’ll catch him doing something worse than cheating, which will force him to listen to me when I talk to him. Or maybe I’ll find him doing something innocent — like sitting amongst cones and bibs — who knows what teenage boys do? — but at least he’ll be alone and I can talk to him.
I’m fifty metres away when I see someone step out of the shed, but it’s not Noah. It’s Henry. I force myself to continue walking, and as I approach, I see that he’s smiling up at the sun.
What the hell? Maybe all those sporty boys go to the sports shed during class. Maybe they have some weird cult and one of the P.E. teachers is their cult leader, and they do weird rituals together. Like cutting open cockatoos and reading the guts to find out who’s going to win the AFL grand final.
Okay, stop. That’s crazy.
Henry doesn’t notice me when I pass, but I’m not surprised, because he’s a carbon copy of the rest of his friends. Maybe he’s somewhat smarter — I once heard him use the word “ostensible”and almost died from shock — but that doesn’t mean he’s going to pay attention to someone like me.
A minute later, I arrive at the shed door. Behind me, Henry’s out of sight. At least he left the door open. I take a breath and step inside.
It takes a while for my eyes to adjust to the dark interior, but I don’t miss the way Noah flinches. “Shit, you scared me,” he says. Then: “Eva?”
