Free What You Become by C. J. Flood Page B

with Kiaru and Alisha, I felt embarrassed. Had I led Alisha on? I tried to think of everything I’d said and done, but it was hard to understand how you came across from inside yourself.
    Maybe it was because I blushed when she talked to me. Or because I laughed at her jokes. But I was just trying to be friendly. I laughed at Ti’s jokes too. I was an easy laugher! Really, though, what had she seen in me? Beneath the blushing and the nerves and my puppy fat, had I got . . .
something
?
    Mum found a dim-witted new series about Californian rich kids for us to watch, and I ate the latest grapes Dad had bought, ignoring the looks Mum was shooting at me. She knew something was wrong, but it wasn’t her style to push. She’d told me she was feeling down, hoping to draw a confession, but I resisted. My problems were small compared to hers, that’s what I had to remember. Dad didn’t even have to say it any more. I’d seen the headaches come when she got upset.
    I popped grapes in my mouth until Mum put them out of reach, worried about my digestion. I was desperate to talk to Ti, but how could I explain my fear of having no friends again when she’d been forced to attend The Bridge?
    The all-American girls on the telly were neat and polished and attractive. It was the same way Alisha was attractive, in a manicured, careful way that took hours behind doors. It was nice – but could I
like
her? Could I kiss her and hold her hand and . . . I shook my head without meaning to, and Mum asked me what was up again, and I wanted so badly to tell her, to let her help, because she was wise, and open, and what harm could it do?
    But then a gorgeous girl with lush auburn hair and expert make-up kissed a beautiful black-haired boy and I thought of Kiaru, and my nerves pinged, not because he was a boy, but because kissing
him
made sense. I could imagine it. I could imagine it so well. My eyes closed, then flew open, remembering I was lying beside my mum. I prayed I hadn’t sighed or anything, and as the screen kiss dragged on I had to work really hard not to fidget until, finally, the shot changed. Mum let out a breath and I realized I’d been holding my breath too.
    Maybe we weren’t ready to talk about any potential lesbianism just yet.
    The black-haired boy got on a motorbike and he was nothing like Kiaru really, except the way he put one hand in his back pocket.
    Of course, he wasn’t interested in a girl like me! He probably wasn’t interested in any of the girls at our school. He probably liked older girls who knew what capoeira was and didn’t blush at the sound of their own name. He probably liked girls that had faces for television, girls like Charlie Fielding or Mia Lewis like every other boy in our year.
    Charlie was his girl next door. Literally. The thought made my stomach roil with anxiety. How had he managed to escape the notice of the popular girls? And when were they going to claim him?
    On screen the scenic fake-teen girls talked about being friends forever, and the thought of Monday at school heavied my stomach. When Alisha found out I wasn’t in the closet, would she stop talking to me? Would they let me finish the project with them, or was I back to doing a one-woman show?
    ‘Fidgeting hell, Rose. Can you stay in one position? I feel like I’m on a boat.’
    ‘I don’t feel well.’
    Mum’s tone changed, and she shifted position so her hand could reach my forehead. ‘What’s the matter, baby? You don’t feel hot.’
    ‘I feel sick,’ I said in a small voice. Usually I told her off for calling me ‘baby’.
    ‘Do you feel sick or do you need to be sick?’ she said carefully, because as a kid, I used to have a problem recognizing the difference, resulting in gross carpets and car mats and on one occasion, a gross granny’s handbag.
    ‘I just need to lie still,’ I said, and after checking I was absolutely certain I wasn’t going to blow, Mum did what I had hoped she would. Lying just behind me she