‘Aren’t you hot in those jeans?’ the first girl, Lou, asks me.
‘No,’ I reply bluntly. She has long, dead-straight blonde hair and is wearing a lime-green vest which brings out the deep tan on her slender arms. I’m guessing she’s wearing a very short skirt, but the table is blocking my vision.
‘When did you get to Australia?’ the other girl, Tiff, asks.
‘Saturday.’
‘Isn’t it, like, a twenty-four-hour flight or something?’
‘That’s right.’
‘I couldn’t cope with that,’ Lou chips in. ‘Flying’s supposed to really dry out your skin.’ On that note, her eyes flit over my face. I decide then and there that I really don’t like her very much.
Shane returns with my drink and another chair. I thank him and peer into the glass. It’s full of ice.
‘What’s wrong?’ Josh asks.
I can’t help but smirk. ‘You serve cider with ice?’
‘Yeah,’ Lou says, pulling a ‘dur’ face. ‘How do you Pommies drink it?’
‘We don’t drink it with ice.’
‘That’s right, it’s all about warm beer over there, isn’t it?’ one of the blokes chips in, sniggering. I feel my cheeks reddening.
‘You’ll be in trouble if you slag off the Pommies, mate,’ Josh says.
‘Aw, are you missing home?’ Tiff asks me, pouting like a little girl.
Shane pulls a face. ‘Why?’
‘That’s what I keep asking.’ Josh slaps him on the arm.
I wonder if I can catch Ben up?
‘Bloody hell!’ Lou squawks, leaping suddenly to her feet.
‘Shit, sorry,’ one of the blokes says, brushing liquid off her (yep, very short) skirt.
‘Get off me, Alex,’ she squeals, batting him away. ‘Stop sloshing your bloody beer around!’
I take a small gulp of air, relieved that the attention has been diverted from me.
The cider, it turns out, is actually very nice served over ice. Not that I could ever see myself asking for it back home. But it’s a hot late afternoon and if the truth be known, I’ve been sweltering in my jeans all week. I still haven’t dared to unveil my pasty white legs. I don’t know when I’ll do that, if ever. I wonder if I can get through the next couple of years wearing trousers?
Hang on, are they going to make me wear khaki shorts if I work at the conservation park?
Noooooo!
‘I know what you’re getting for a birthday present.’ Josh’s singsong voice distracts me.
I twist around to look at him. ‘Hey?’ He pretends to zip his lips. ‘Come on, who’s been talking about my birthday?’ I persist. He steadfastly shakes his head. ‘You can’t say stuff like that,’ I moan.
‘What’s this?’ Lou interrupts.
‘Lily’s birthday is on Wednesday.’
‘Oh, cool. Are you having a party?’ Tiff asks.
