Free Being Kalli by Rebecca Berto Page A

point. Now I feel bad for insinuating she wasn’t straight. “Touché.”
    Scout winks back.
    We sit on the bed and talk. Donovan, Nate, Mum, her sister, Steph.
    “ Hey, I need to know about Nate. Has he said anything to you about me?”
    “Did you fuck it up?”
    “Scout, I’m great at fucking things up. It’s so weird between us.”
    “I won’t say I told you so.”
    I feign anger and slap a fist to her mattress. “You just did!”
    “Anyway, what I meant to say before we got sidetracked is I do not want Donovan. He’s so great at kissing , so I’m sure it’s all he can do.”
    “Ahh, so quick to judge.”
    We chat some more until I get back to the party topic. The truth is, I’m not put off by Nate’s interest in me. I’m just keen to show him how wild I can get. I get a kick from the sickest things: the thought of him trying to hide an erection in public, or his flustered face when he sees a part of my body that should be covered.
    I’m determined to keep him as my friend. I know my other uni friends bag me out about my latest hook ups, but Scout and Nate never talk about me behind their backs, and it’s little things like that that show true friendship.
    I tell myself this change in where we stand doesn’t have to be a bad thing. I like change, I like being on my toes and not knowing what comes next. Once I thought so long and hard about that night Mum went to get groceries and He was with me in their room that my nausea tortured me. For a whole day at school I couldn’t eat a thing—not even breakfast that morning—I wasn’t hungry, but knew I should eat.
    That night, I got on my knees in front of the toilet and shoved my fingers down my throat. I’m not sure why not much vomit came up because surely I had some food in me , and when I panicked I was hollow inside and scratched until I bled. Red, watery bile spewed from my mouth.
    I know I shouldn’t have felt satisfied, but for once after so much obsessing and thinking and hurting, it was over.
    Let me tell you, nothing— nothing —will ever feel better than release.
    The power.
    The satisfaction.
    It’s a dangerous addiction.

10
     
    Later that week, Mum says she needs a fun day for us as a family. She starts the day by bringing a cup of steaming tea to the coffee table in front of my seat, and we watch TV together. Cool outside but toasty in here with the heater on, morning rays stream from the decking and through the glass sliding door, spilling over the tiles. It’s like someone has brought the sun too close, especially since we’re in autumn, but then I realise Mum’s gone to the effort of drawing back the curtains and I love it.
    She asks if I want to come to the pool s with her and the boys and it takes me a few seconds to answer, hindered by my shock. Only Mum can allow herself to want to get better, and I’m all for fun if it includes wild waves at the water centre with the twins, her and I.
    When we arrive, Seth writhes in my hands, his shoulders slipping free first, and he waves his arms toward the water he’s so desperate for. Since it’s the baby pool he’s headed for and we’re only several feet away, I let him go, and drop my pants, button-down sweater and tank top into my bag while keeping an eye on him then join in.
    Tristan? He’s always been an ass to get in water. Baths are now tolerable.
    “N oo ,” he shrieks. “Please Mummy!”
    “Shh,” she assures him. “Swimming is fun.”
    He pushes his weight on his feet, and it’s like trying to drag a dead weight. Mum starts to take him over but when that’s too hard, she goes in for an all-out tickle and he loses his defences. She throws him over her shoulder like he’s a sack and jumps into the adult’s pool.
    So, not the best choice.
    Seth is dying to join them since he thinks the adult pool is way more fun, so we jump in, too.
    After five whole minutes, Tris tan unclenches his fists from Mum’s hair and bathers and starts feeling the current of the