Give Me Four Reasons Read online

  ‘Fliss broke up with Adam.’

  ‘I thought she was going out with Leon Parsons.’

  ‘He was months ago, Dad.’

  Dad shrugs. ‘I can’t keep up with her. Are you and Jed still together?’

  I scoop my hand into the pool and splash at his suit. ‘Jed is not my boyfriend!’

  Dad jumps out of the way of the water. ‘Paige and Jed, sitting in a tree …’ he sings.

  ‘Jed is not my boyfriend!’ I repeat and splash at him again.

  ‘I bet he’s coming to your party tonight though, isn’t he?’ Dad says.

  ‘Yes,’ I say, ‘and so are Elfi and Rochelle. It’s just going to be the four of us.’

  ‘I’m glad you and your sister are having these parties,’ Dad says. ‘You deserve to have some fun. Things have been a little … tense around here lately.’

  Tense? I wonder what he’s talking about. Mum and Dad have had their usual rows, but all parents are like that. Though sometimes I wonder how they got together in the first place. Dad is so normal, and Mum is all spirits and crystals and chanting and belly-dancing. Dad jokes that they are a perfect team. She can read a person’s future and find out if someone in their life is going to die soon, and then he can slip a flyer from the funeral parlour into their letterbox.

  ‘And I know you and your friends will be very well behaved at your party,’ Dad continues. ‘All four of you. Though I will be watching that Jed through the kitchen window.’

  ‘Da-ad!’ I protest. But I enjoy his teasing.

  Dad rolls up his trouser legs and comes to sit beside me at the edge of the pool. ‘So how was your last day at school?’ he asks.

  I kick my legs, churning up the water. ‘Not great. There was a water fight, but I didn’t join in. And then everybody forgot about me. Even Mr Tovety got me mixed up with Fliss. And I couldn’t break into the circle of dancing kids all saying goodbye.’

  ‘Mr Tovety is a silly old fart,’ Dad says. ‘He’d be lucky if he remembered to put on his underpants every morning.’

  I chuckle. Soon I am laughing and snorting. Dad always has this way of making me feel good.

  ‘And how can a tiny, quiet thing like you expect to break into a dancing circle of madness?’ Dad continues. ‘That would be like a mouse breaking into a circle of roaring lions.’

  ‘But sometimes I want to break into that circle of lions, Dad. Sometimes I want to be the one roaring and being noticed.’

  ‘Then do it, Paige.’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Roar and be noticed.’

  ‘But … but that’s not me.’

  ‘Then make it you,’ Dad says. ‘If you think that’s what will make you happy.’

  ‘Hey,’ I remind him, ‘you said we should always be true to ourselves. “Don’t change”, remember? We made that the motto of our group today.’

  Dad sighs. ‘Sometimes change is necessary, especially if you’re no longer happy. Sometimes you have to change and find a new way of being you. That’s still being true to yourself.’

  I look at Dad, suddenly feeling like we’re no longer talking about me.

  ‘Whatever you decide to do, Paige, just remember that I love you and I accept you for who you are. I hope you will always do the same for me.’

  I stare down at the water. Hot prickles begin behind my eyes. I am so lucky. I might not be the loudest person at school but, with my dad by my side, I think I can do anything.

  5

  ‘Jed!’I shout, opening my front door. He jumps back in fright. ‘I’m so glad that you could make it!’I give him a big hug.

  Jed raises his eyebrows and stares at me. ‘You knew I was coming. I only saw you three hours ago.’

  ‘Yes, but that seems so long ago. How has your afternoon been? Anything interesting happen? My sister broke up with her boyfriend, whichever one he was this week.’ I laugh loudly.

  Jed stares at me again. ‘Have you already started on the Coke, Paige? How many cans have you had?’

  ‘None,’I say, pulling him through the door. ‘Can you give me a hand to take out the food and fill the pool fridge?’

  I drag Jed into the kitchen, load up his arms and hold open the back door for him. I smile to myself. The plan I came up with while I was getting dressed is already working. The mouse has started to roar. My friends are bound to notice me tonight.

  ‘So are you all packed?’ I ask him, as we empty packets of chips into bowls. I have put a cloth over the aluminium oval table that nestles into the belly of our jelly-bean-shaped pool. Earlier, I hosed all the leaves off the concrete pavers under the fence and into the backyard. I wrapped tinsel around the potted palm on the raised wooden deck at the rear end of the pool. I even decorated the ugly tin pool shed in the back corner with posters of our favourite bands. It all looks pretty good.

  ‘Yeah, but it’s kinda hard to get your head around packing jackets and gloves and boots while it’s thirty-five degrees outside,’ Jed says.

  ‘I wish I was going skiing in Canada,’ I say. ‘Will you bring me back a grizzly bear?’

  ‘I’ll bring you back a postcard of one,’ Jed offers. ‘To add to your collection.’

  My collection is a collection of teddy bears. I know I’m too old for them, but I can’t face parting with any of them. I have thirty-four. They form a carefully constructed mountain on my bed every morning and a messy pile on my floor every night. Every bear I’ve ever owned is there.

  Each bear tells a story. The story of my life, beginning with the tiny pink bear that Dad bought from the hospital gift shop on the day that I was born. Eight of my bears are from the first two months of my life. We have a photo of me finally leaving hospital, with all eight bears cuddling up to me in my carry basket. I was so tiny that there would have been room for eight more.

  ‘Your collection of what?’ Elfi says, flinging open the pool gate ahead of Rochelle.

  ‘Elfi!’ I shout. ‘Rochelle!’ I run over and give them both a huge hug. ‘You girls look cool. I love your dress, Rochelle. And where did you get those sparkly earrings, Elfi? I want some.’

  ‘But you don’t have pierced ears, Paige,’ Elfi says.

  ‘Maybe I’ll get them pierced over the holidays.’

  ‘No, you won’t.’ Rochelle laughs and gently twists my left earlobe. ‘You’ve chickened out twice before.’

  ‘I will this time,’ I say. ‘You just wait and see.’

  Rochelle rolls her eyes and pushes past me. ‘Hi, Jed,’ she says. Then she reaches into her bag and thrusts a large, bear-shaped package wrapped in red paper at me. ‘Merry Christmas, Paige.’

  ‘I think I can guess what this is,’ I say, laughing. I place the unopened gift by the edge of the pool and run into the house. Seconds later I return with a large rectangular gift for Elfi. Jed reaches into his backpack and takes out an envelope for Rochelle. Elfi hands a box to Jed.

  Our Christmas system has always been to draw a name out of a hat and that is the person in the group we buy a present for. No one’s allowed to spend more than twenty dollars.

  ‘One, two, three … four,’ we all count, and then there is silence except for the frenzied ripping of wrapping paper.

  My gift is a new bear, just like I’d guessed. He is white and fluffy and wearing a red Christmas hat with a white pompom on the tip. I throw my arms around my friends. ‘Thanks, guys.’

  Rochelle flaps two tickets under our noses. ‘These are awesome. I didn’t know the Bounders were playing in town.’

  ‘It’s an exhibition match,’ Jed says. ‘The tickets only came online last night.’

  I remember my promise to myself about being noticed. I begin bouncing an imaginary ball. Then I do a bad imitation of one of Rochelle’s lay-ups and cheer myself on. ‘Look at me! I’m Rochelle. I’m playing basketball!’ I yell.

  Everybody stares at me.

  ‘What are you on, Paige?’ Rochelle says, looking at me as though I’ve lost my head. ‘We’d better hide the red lollies,’ she wh
ispers to Jed. My face turns the colour of the sweets she thinks I’ve overdosed on.

  Elfi has been flicking through the pages of her present. It is a scrapbook of photographs and memories of us four friends. It is twenty-five pages thick and it took me a month to make.

  ‘Thanks for making this for me, Paige,’ Elfi says. ‘I know you did it. Look at the detail in the cutting-out and the lettering. Each page has a different background, a different theme.’ Elfi’s eyes are shining. ‘This is beautiful.’

  Rochelle looks over Elfi’s shoulder at the book. ‘You can show your relatives all the fun you’ve had since immigrating here,’ she says to Elfi.

  ‘When do they arrive?’ I ask Elfi.

  ‘Tomorrow.’ Elfi groans. ‘Eleven of them. I can’t believe I have to hang out with them all summer! Mum says I can’t spend any time on my own because my cousins have come all this way to see me.’

  ‘I’m going to miss having you around, Elfi,’ I say. Then I remember not to be invisible, so I grab Elfi around the middle in another big hug. ‘What will I do without you?’ I yell.

  I hug Elfi so hard, I knock her off balance and we both fall onto the pavers that surround the pool.

  ‘Jeez, Paige! Calm down,’ Elfi says. She scrambles back to her feet and dusts herself off.

  ‘What did you get, Jed?’ I say, quickly deflecting the attention from me.

  ‘Skiing gloves,’ he says. He holds up a pair of brown, fur-lined gloves.

  I snatch them off him and pull them on. I pretend I have ski poles in my hands and I swoosh around him, bent over as though I’m skiing. ‘Is this how you do it, Jed?’

  Jed tries to grab my hands. ‘Give the gloves back, Paige. You’ve got chip grease all over your fingers.’

  ‘You’re going to have to catch me first,’ I squeal, pretend-skiing around the pool.

  Jed darts out at me as I ski past. I giggle and push him off. Jed stumbles on the slippery pavers and falls backward. He just misses cracking the back of his head on the edge of the aluminium outdoor table.

  ‘Whoa!’ he says.

  ‘Paige!’ Rochelle and Elfi say.

  I run over to Jed. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I say. I peel off the gloves and hold out my hand to help him up.

  ‘Keep away from me, Paige,’ Jed says, accepting Rochelle’s outstretched hand. ‘You’re dangerous tonight.’

  ‘Yeah, what’s got into you?’ Elfi says.

  ‘I … I …’ I stammer, backing away from the angry glares of my friends.

  But, in typical-clumsy-me-style, I back away too far and fall into the pool.

  There’s nothing like a bit of slapstick to ease the tension in a situation. Rochelle, Elfi and Jed are soon laughing. They peel off their clothes and join me in the pool.

  We swim and splash and everything seems to be forgotten. I keep my mouth closed and don’t draw attention to myself. It’s much safer being quiet.

  Mum opens the back door and walks across the yard towards us. ‘Are you kids behaving yourselves?’ she asks when she joins us in the pool area. She tucks her long dress under herself and sits down, dangling her legs in the pool. She looks tired and her eyes are rimmed in red. Her black mascara and eyeliner, which she wears to add to her fortune-teller image, are smeared. Cheering up Felicity must be hard work.

  I leave my friends floating in the middle of the pool and swim over to where Mum is sitting. ‘Is Fliss okay?’ I whisper.

  ‘Felicity?’ She waves her hand dismissively. ‘She’ll be fine. We’ll all be fine.’

  ‘Hey, Nicole,’ Rochelle calls out. ‘Can you tell me if I’m going to get a new mobile phone for Christmas?’

  Mum laughs. ‘I’m not going to spoil your Christmas surprise.’

  ‘Even if you do get one, there’s probably no coverage at your grandparents’ farm,’ Elfi says to Rochelle. She turns back to Mum. ‘What about me, Nicole? Am I going to survive the summer without killing any of my German relatives?’

  ‘Am I going to get good snow in Canada, Mrs Winfrey?’ Jed asks. He hasn’t known Mum long enough to feel comfortable calling her by her first name, even though she insists on it.

  ‘You’ll just have to wait and see, kids,’ Mum says. ‘I don’t read young people’s fortunes.’ She stands up. ‘Do you kids need anything from the house? More chips? Drinks? Dry towels?’ Her voice warbles and wavers as though I am listening to it underwater. I stick my fingers in my ears to unblock them, but it continues to sound strange.

  ‘Are you okay, Mum?’I ask. She looks sad. I worry that Felicity has sapped Mum’s strength and drained her happiness. My sister can be like that sometimes.

  Mum looks up at the stars, closes her eyes and inhales deeply. ‘I will be, Paige.’

  I glance up at the stars too, wondering what she sees there. It’s just a whole bunch of tiny lights to me. When I look back, my mother is gone.

  ‘It’s time, Paige,’ Elfi says, swimming towards me.

  ‘Time for what?’ I ask.

  Rochelle swims to the edge of the pool and pulls herself up beside me. ‘The Passports, dummy.’

  ‘Oh, okay,’ I say. I climb out and wrap a towel around myself. Everyone else hops out of the pool too, and we sit around the outdoor table. The Passports have been waiting on the table all evening, taunting us with the secrets they hold.

  I pick up mine and trace my fingers over the gilded lettering. The edges of the cover are scuffed from when I dropped it.

  ‘Oh, Paige,’ Elfi says, touching the ragged corners.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Rochelle says. ‘It’s what’s inside that counts.’

  ‘Let’s open them on the count of four,’I say, taking my role as the Keeper of the Passports up to the final moment. ‘One, two, three … four!’

  We all flip to the back of our Passports and begin reading.

  I smile and nod as I read Rochelle’s comment. Elfi’s brings tears to my eyes. Jed’s makes me laugh.

  I turn the page. And then I feel sick.

  The rest of the pages are blank.

  I flip frantically through the front pages, thinking that maybe people wrote in the wrong place, but there are no comments there, either.

  Maybe my Passport is empty because nobody could find it. My desk was over near the fish tank, under the last window. Maybe people forgot to go up there. But then I remember that mine was second from the top, right under Janie Harrison’s when Mr Muir handed them out at the end of the day.

  The fact that there are no comments in it means one of two things: 1. If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all. Or, 2. Who is Paige Winfrey?

  I think I’d prefer the first. Because the second means I am just a little mouse after all.

  My hands begin to shake, so I gently close my Passport. I clench my teeth and blink my eyes, determined not to let the tears escape. My friends smile and laugh as they read their Passports.

  ‘Listen to this one from Jonathan Portman,’ Elfi says. ‘Thanks for letting me copy your Maths answers, and for teaching me how to say “Get lost!” in German.’

  ‘Ooh,’ Jed and Rochelle coo.

  ‘I really like this one,’ Rochelle says. ‘Thanks for being such a laugh on the basketball team. I’ll never forget when we won the state title together. Kim Johnson.’

  Jed is still reading. He shakes his head. ‘These are really great. Who would have thought I’d make so many mates after only a year and a bit?’

  ‘Read us one,’ says Elfi.

  Jed blinks. ‘Where do I start?’ He flicks back through the pages. ‘This one’s from Duncan Tilbury. I thought he hated my guts because I took his place in the cricket team.’ He clears his throat and reads, ‘In ten years’ time I’ll be at the cricket, and I’ll be bragging to my mates that Jed Baker, Australian cricket captain, once hit me for six sixes off the one over. Go for it, mate.’

  ‘I didn’t think he could even spell “Australian”,’ Rochelle says.

  ‘He can’t,’ Jed replies.

>   I’m only half-listening. I read Rochelle’s, Elfi’s and Jed’s comments again. It’s clear now that they only said those nice things because they felt sorry for me. No wonder they sometimes don’t hear me when I talk. I’m so boring, no one else in the class thought I was even worth bothering with.

  I glance up. Nobody has noticed I haven’t read out anything from my Passport, but if I sit around much longer, perhaps someone will ask me to. I stand up and walk over to the sound system inside the pool shed. I shove my Passport under the old Casket and Headstone magazines Dad keeps in there for when he is relaxing by the pool.

  ‘Time for some music,’ I say, and hit the play button on the CD player. Earlier, I put the INXS album in there. I turn the music up so no one can hear my jagged breathing as I try not to cry. I switch off the harsh light over the table. Then I drop my towel and dive into the pool.

  When I surface, Rochelle is at the CD player. ‘Time for our anthem,’ she declares, pressing some buttons.

  ‘The national anthem?’ Elfi says.

  ‘Our anthem,’ Jed says, recognising the song from the first bar of music. ‘Our motto. Track three.’

  Rochelle grabs Elfi and Jed and drags them up to the small wooden deck beside the pool.

  ‘Come on, Paige,’ she yells. ‘It’s our motto.’ She dances over to the edge of the deck, playing her air guitar. Jed is on drums. Elfi is on keyboards.

  I shake my head. Four reasons why Paige is invisible? I want to shout out. I have all the answers.

  1. She’s plain.

  2. She’s quiet.

  3. She’s boring.

  4. She comes up with a motto that says, ‘Don’t change,’ even though nobody except her three friends likes her or even notices her the way she is.

  ‘You don’t get away with it that easily, Paige,’ Rochelle says. ‘Get out your air guitar!’ She dives in the pool. Jed and Elfi follow. They wade up to me.

  I look at their laughing, happy faces. With a huge effort, and under the cover of darkness and water and the shouting voices of my friends, I begin to sway and sing.

  ‘Don’t change,’ we yell. ‘Don’t change.’