Smooch & Rose by Samantha Wheeler Page B

didn’t want to wait a whole year . That was forever away. I wanted to care for the koala now . I folded my arms and scowled. I wished we’d never brought the baby to the vet’s.
    â€˜Come on, love,’ said Gran, propelling me towards the door. ‘I’m sure Craig will give the carer our details. Perhaps they’ll let you visit the joey.’
    We drove home in silence. I glared out the window. I could have looked after the baby koala. I’d been helping Gran out on the farm ever since Mum and Dad had died. It had been nearly four years since their accident and now I knew everything there was to know about animals. I looked after Sally, our goat, even if she chased me and headbutted me half the time. It was my job to feed and rug Mickey, Dad’s old racehorse, who’d grown so old I had to chop his carrots up extra small in his mash; and it was me who locked up the chooks and collected their eggs. Then there was Lizzie, of course. Surely I could care for one little koala? I leant my forehead against the cold glass of the window. Somehow I’d have to show them I could do it.
    I headed straight for the vet surgery on my way to school the next morning. The waiting room looked different in the daylight.
    â€˜Has the carer come yet?’ I asked the lady at reception. I had to convince her to give the koala to me.
    â€˜The carer?’ the receptionist asked, frowning at me over the top of the counter.
    â€˜For the baby koala. We brought him in last night.’
    â€˜Yes, he was picked up about an hour ago. Is there a problem?’
    My mouth dropped open. I was too late. The koala was gone.
    â€˜Oh,’ I mumbled. ‘No problem.’ But there was a problem. A huge problem. I should be the one caring for the joey. Not some stranger. He’d remember me and I’d make him feel safe.
    I stomped the rest of the way to school. What if the carer didn’t feed the koala properly? What if he missed his mum and the carer didn’t cuddle him enough?
    I dragged my feet through the school gates. School was the last place I wanted to be. It was becoming just like the rest of Redland Bay. People and buildings everywhere. Developers were gobbling up all the spare bushland and turning the old farms into ugly housing estates. City people were flocking to the area for ‘green changes’ and ‘tree changes’ and their kids were filling up our school. There were temporary classrooms shoved in every which way and new teachers constantly asking to be shown around. They didn’t know anything about anyone and they didn’t understand a thing about Redland Bay.
    But worse than the crowding, the new kids were different. They had mobiles and laptops and iPads and 3D TVs. All the stuff I’d never had. All the stuff I didn’t want. The girls squabbled over lipgloss and obsessed about shopping and boy bands, while the boys spent more time on their hair than I did. I found it best to keep out of everyone’s way.
    â€˜Hey, Nunn, been sleeping in a stable lately?’ Kellee and Tahlia stood at the bag racks. They’d been huddled over Tahlia’s phone, but looked up when they heard me arrive.
    â€˜Yeah, Nunn. Grass for lunch again?’
    I pushed my bag into a spare spot on the rack, hoping the bell would hurry up.
    â€˜What’s up, goat got your tongue?’ sniggered Kellee. She and Tahlia had moved into the new townhouses at the back of Gran’s farm last year, where Mr Douglas’s fruit farm used to be. At first, I’d asked if they wanted to come over and meet our animals, but they’d laughed and said animals were for bumpkins. Besides, they said, they were way too busy with Maths Club and training for the netball team to hang out with scarecrows like me.
    I didn’t ask them over again.
    Tahlia whispered to Kellee, who pursed her lips and took a step towards me. Her shoulders were level with my chin. They would be. She was