The Yearbook Committee by Sarah Ayoub Page B

of my neck.
    â€˜Come on, seriously,’ she says. ‘It’s no big deal. Where do you live?’
    â€˜OK, thanks,’ I say gratefully. ‘I’m on the Hume Highway in South Strathfield.’
    We clamber in the car and I take the back seat, trying to catch a glimpse of those guys from the park. Something about them made me uneasy.
    After a few minutes, I notice that Sammy has fallen asleep.
    â€˜He’s really tired,’ Gillian says, looking at me in the rear-view mirror. ‘He likes sameness and routines, and being alone in that park would’ve been hard on him.’
    â€˜I bet,’ I say. ‘He comes into the juice bar all the time, so I knew that he was out of his comfort zone as soon as I saw him.’
    â€˜It’s so nice that you looked after him,’ she says. ‘I honestly feel so awful. How long was he with you for?’
    â€˜Twenty minutes or so,’ I tell her. ‘I had just finished work and walked a co-worker to her car, and when I cut through the park on the way to the bus stop I saw him with those guys.’
    She stops at a red light, then rubs her temples.
    â€˜God, I was so panicked when he wasn’t home,’ she says. ‘I didn’t think he would try to walk to Burwood on his own. And I couldn’t call my parents. I just started driving around in circles looking for him. Stupid Parramatta Road traffic.’
    She says nothing for a while, and neither do I, but I can tell from her driving that she’s tense.
    Finally she says, ‘I’m just scared they did something to him. What if they come for him again?’
    â€˜I don’t think they will. They were trying to get him out of the park — that’s what was suss. Just a couple of young guys “playing footy” in the dark. It was weird.’
    I direct her to my building and she drops me off in the nearest side street, then performs a u-turn. She lowers her window just as she’s about to drive off.
    â€˜Check out that poor lady in the bathrobe,’ she tells me, pointing.
    I look up and see my mum on the stairs, looking very much like a nutjob.
    â€˜I know, right?’ I say, forcing a smirk. ‘Some people . . .’

Tammi
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Tammi Kap Need. To. Focus. (Srsly, studying sucks.)
    â€˜I knew picking you for this assignment was a mistake,’ I say, edging further down the bed.
    â€˜Not my fault you’re hot,’ David says, kissing my lips, my cheek, my ear. ‘And that you never learn from past “study” sessions.’
    â€˜Come on,’ I say gently, one hand on his chest shoving him away, and the other flipping through the pages of my textbook. ‘I missed out on so much because of dancing so I really need to study now.’
    â€˜Mmmhmmm,’ he says, wrapping his arms around me. ‘Still sad that you didn’t make nationals?’
    I sigh in frustration and push his hands off me. ‘No, I’m sad that I can’t study and I really need to,’ I say. ‘Come on, we can’t afford to screw around any more.’
    He rolls his eyes. ‘That’s the problem, Tammi. We don’t screw around at all.’
    â€˜Not this again,’ I say. ‘ Please just let it go.’
    He pauses, then moves away, shaking his head.
    â€˜You know I like you,’ he says. ‘Love you, even. But I don’t get it. We’ve been going out for ages — how long are you going to make me wait?’
    â€˜I don’t know,’ I say, suddenly angry. ‘How long are you going to keep pressuring me about it?’
    â€˜Tam, I’m the laughing stock of the whole grade,’ he says.
    â€˜What’s the whole grade got to do with it?’ I snap, standing up. ‘Are you planning on telling everyone when it happens? Filming it maybe, so everyone can watch?’
    â€˜Why are you being so dramatic?’ he asks.
    â€˜Because