“It’s worse than you could ever imagine.”
“Why? What happened?” Tabbie asked.
“The boys whistled at me and no girls would talk to me.” Stephanie’s voice wavered.
Tabbie’s sigh crackled through the line. “There’s a comp coming up.”
“Let’s not talk about dancing.” Stephanie held back tears through clenched teeth.
“Hmm, do you have heaps of hot boys to perve on?”
She shook her head. Far from it. “I’d rather be back at Hill Top. I’ve never been humiliated like I was today.”
“Oh, Steph. You know it’ll take time to settle in. Remember our first term in Year Seven? We had no idea.”
“At least I knew you. Here, I don’t know anyone.”
Her head throbbed after listening to Tabbie’s encouragement. How many ways can a best friend say, ‘things will get better?’ It was no better than being told, ‘the grass is greener on the other side.’ Stephanie was sure she’d never fit in.
She found the heaviest music she owned and played it as loud as her speakers would go. She tried to dance, but her breasts pounded against her, reminding her of how wolf-whistle boy had stared straight at her chest. She went to write in her journal, but couldn’t see the page through her tears. She did care about the competitions her best friend was entering but it hurt too much to talk to her about it. And now she’d gone and hurt Tabbie by cutting her off at the mention of dance. Turning the page, she began writing a letter to Tabbie to apologise, but again more tears rolled.
She lay on her bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, releasing her energy through tensed muscles, hoping the music would take away the pain.
“Steph, dinner is ready.” Diane knocked on her door.
Stephanie didn’t reply.
“Look,” her mother opened the door. “I know it wasn’t the best start, but why don’t you come downstairs for dinner. Dad’s just come home and he wants us to eat together.”
Dragging herself off the bed, Stephanie followed her mother.
“Hello, Steph.” Her father spoke while focusing on the newspaper. “Mum said you didn’t have a good day.”
Stephanie wanted to rip the paper from his hands. But didn’t.
They sat at the table while April dissected her fabulous day. “Oh, there’s three girls in my class who do gymnastics,” she said. “They go to the best club. I just have to join it.”
Her father looked up from the paper. “We can book you in for a trial, if you like.”
“There’s a birthday this weekend. Jenna has invited me. Is it okay if I go? Well, I kind of already replied but I … well is it okay?”
John tilted his paper forward, peering over the top. “I hope you didn’t invite yourself.”
April shook her head. “There’s a play coming up and I’m trying out for a part tomorrow.”
Diane smiled. “Do you need help with learning lines? Maybe Stephanie can help.”
Stephanie pulled a face at April and shook her head, rolling her eyes.
“Mum, can you come and help at school?” April asked.
“Yes, I should be able to fit in one or two days.”
“Dad, they’re asking for fathers to help with some of the backdrops and props. Can I put you down for that?”
He folded the paper in half, putting it down. “It depends what time and which day they need me.”
“Mum, I can’t believe they gave me readers. They’re so easy. I can read way better than that!”
All Stephanie heard was, “Blah blah blah,” while April continued to prattle on. Argh!
After dinner, Stephanie resumed her position on her bed, staring at the ceiling, letting the loud music thump off the walls until her mother asked her to turn it down for the night. She held her aching head in her hands and cried herself to sleep. That night she had nightmares of up-close faces coming one after the other, laughing.
#
Stephanie’s mother stopped right in front of the school gate for the third day in a row.
“Mum! Could you stop a little further away from the gate?”
“Why? There’s no other cars right in front,” Diane said. “Saves you the walk.”
Believe me, Mum, you are making my life worse.
Stephanie groaned as she leant against the car door that never closed on the first shove. Before she even looked up, the banter had started.
“Wanna have lunch?” one boy asked, followed by one of his friends with, “Oh, no she already has a lunch date … with herself.”
“Shut up, idiots.” Stephanie urged her feet to move faster.
The boys erupted with laughter. The only difference each day was different boys delivered the lines, adding obscene remarks about her body parts. Wolf-whistle boy was always in the centre, finishing with a whistle each day.
“Get a life,” she told them as she walked away.
