Ocean Pearl by J.C. Burke Page A

Ace and I really ever had that type of
friendship?
    Now I felt like I'd been fooling myself. Us four had
held hands and made pacts and promises. We'd sworn
loyalty and friendship. But that was back then, when
we were the Starfish Sisters and I was Miss Micki.
Stupid, stupid Miss Micki, thinking I could be like
everybody else.
    Kia came bursting into the kitchen.
    'You're not meant to be in here!' Brian shouted.
'Micki's on lunch duty. Not you.'
    'I just have to tell Micki something. I'll be quick, I
promise.'
    I was carefully drying the salad leaves 'cause Brian
said I had to 'pat' them, not 'wipe' them or they'd
bruise. Part of me wanted say, 'Brian, go shove this
lettuce up your arse. If the biggest drama in your life is
bruised lettuce leaves then you're doing okay.'
    But I didn't like that part of me. I'd met enough kids
at support groups to understand that bitterness and
anger was only around the corner. The I-hate-everyone-
because-my-life's-not-like-yours disease was
easy for kids like me to come down with.
    I had worked hard to stay free of that disease. Yet
thanks to Ace, I could feel it now, just footsteps behind
me. I wanted it to go away. But how?
    Not even the sure cure of surfing had worked. In
this morning's expression session, I'd done a doughnut
then nosedived into the wave and got badly chundered
around like a sock in the wash. Not even that beat it out
of me.
    I could hear the change in my voice. I could feel how
hard my face had become. I could sense how silent I
was being and I knew Georgie and Kia sensed it too.
    'Oh, Brian, you have to save Georgie's lunch for her,'
Kia told him.
    'Why?'
    She began to giggle. 'Because she's got an engagement.'
    Brian opened his mouth to complain but Kia got in
first. 'Carla knows about it.'
    'Tell her it'll be in the dining room,' he said. 'And tell
her to wash up afterwards.'
    'Micki?'
    'What?'
    'Don't you want to know what Georgie's engagement
is?'
    'Um?'
    'She's giving Jules a surfing lesson. Right now.'
    'Out, Kia.' Brian shooed me away. 'You've delivered
your message, off you go.'
    'Go and spy on them.' I forced my voice to sound
lighter around Kia.
    She hadn't been the one to read my diary. Neither
had Georgie. But I had a feeling that Georgie knew my
stuff now. The way she'd sat on my bed and squeezed
my foot while asking me about Dad made my antennae
spring up on high alert. But was that because I knew
what Ace had done? It was hard not to jump to conclusions
and get paranoid.
    I hated anyone – the neighbours or the teachers,
anyone – even asking me how Dad was. At least in that
situation I could make up my own story. But if Georgie
already knew the answer then what could I say back?
    Georgie did know. It was obvious. I saw her trying
to whisper something to Kia at breakfast. When I asked
what the secret was, Georgie went bright red and
wiggled around in her chair.
    Just say Georgie had already asked Kia? Just say Kia
was like, 'The truth's out now, I might as well tell her
everything'? Right now, Georgie was probably out in
the surf telling Jules. She'd be saying –
    'Micki!'
    I had dropped the salad bowl. Tiny pieces of glass
scattered all over the floor.
    'Don't move,' instructed Brian. 'You'll crunch glass
all through the kitchen.'
    'I'm so sorry, Brian.'
    'Accidents happen. Don't worry. Megan just about
chopped her hand off this morning. You're just out of
practice. You probably haven't had a tea towel in your
hand since you were here last.'
    My new best friends, my tears, bubbled up and
exploded from my eyes and again I couldn't stop them.
    I bolted out the kitchen door and along the
walkways across the lawns and into the Starfish
Bungalow.
    There was only one way to stop this. I had managed
to protect myself all these years. Lies, lies, hundreds of
them I'd told. And now everyone knew!
    I roared as I charged towards my bed, my hands
grabbing at the pillow, tearing off its pink spotted case.
My diary dive-bombed to the ground.
    I threw myself on it,