Free The Red Cardigan by J.C. Burke

folder and under her jumper.
    â€˜Who do you think it is?’
    Evie shakes her head.
    â€˜It’s definitely there. Isn’t it?’
    Evie says nothing.
    â€˜Do you think it’s a woman?’
    Evie shrugs.
    â€˜Do you know anyone with that sort of hair?’
    She shakes her head again.
    â€˜Think!’
    â€˜I haven’t a flipping clue who it is.’ Evie tries to calm her voice. The panic is throbbing in her throat.
    â€˜Sorry, Evie.’
    â€˜Just say it.’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Come on!’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Just say it, Alex.’
    â€˜Say what?’
    â€˜Just say what you want to say!’ shouts Evie.
    â€˜Shhh, Evie.’
    Evie waits for her to speak. Alex stares at the ground.
    â€˜Ok, I’ll say it,’ she says eventually. ‘Do you think it’s the same girl as in your drawing?’
    â€˜I’m not sure.’ Evie crosses her arms. ‘Do you?’
    Alex shrugs. ‘No idea.’
    â€˜I know I’ve never seen the girl in the portrait or the photo. I promise, Alex.’
    â€˜I know. God, I wish there’s someone who could help.’
    â€˜No way. Promise me you won’t show those photos to anyone.’
    â€˜Promise. But, Evie, there has to be someone we can talk to?’
    â€˜There isn’t. Trust me.’
    The bell rings. The girls wander down to assembly in silence.
    The hall is packed with the entire senior school. Girls are squealing, laughing and shoving each other. They stand there waiting to be seated while Evie concentrates on getting through the rest of the day.
    â€˜Do you reckon you’ll say something to Powell about dropping your drawing elective?’
    â€˜No, not today. The portraits and the stupid proposal are due Thursday. Maybe I’ll drop the bomb then.’
    They pass the Year 12 CG from yesterday’s canteen line. Evie feels the girl watch her.
    At a safe distance she asks Alex, ‘What did that girl say?’
    â€˜Nothing.’
    â€˜Tell me?’
    â€˜Don’t you know?’
    â€˜No.’
    Alex chooses seats at the end, away from the other Year 11 students. Evie faces her. She is not giving up. ‘Come on. You have to tell me, Alex.’
    â€˜She said the canteen doesn’t sell trips.’
    Evie frowns.
    â€˜LSD, okay? Acid. Stupid, isn’t it? I don’t know why you wanted to know what the bitch said. They don’t care.’
    Evie thinks Alex is about to cry. She recognises the sign. The scar that runs from her nose to her lip is crinkled and trembles. Evie thinks about the times kids mimicked this twitching and chanted ‘bunny, bunny’. Evie would tell them to get lost and take Alex’s hand and lead her away from their teasing. She knows Alex has not forgotten this. They are bound together at the edge of the crowd.
    â€˜Are you all right, Al?’
    Alex nods. ‘Are you?’
    Evie shrugs.
    The headmistress arrives at the microphone and morning assembly commences.
    â€˜Can I still come to your place after school?’
    â€˜I thought you were anyway,’ Alex replies. ‘You can help me torture the brats.’
    â€˜I’ll meet you at your locker.’
    â€˜Okay. Don’t be late. I’ve got to get home quickly. Mum’s got a session with her therapist at four.’
    â€˜Trevor Tryhard?’
    â€˜No, she dumped Trev. Mum says he burped too much.’
    â€˜Gross. I wonder if my mum thinks that?’
    â€˜Now she sees some woman called Andrea Ausbach.’
    â€˜Great name.’
    â€˜Andrea Ausbach,’ Alex says again.
    Â 
    Alex’s mum emerges from the bathroom wearing her famous red lipstick.
    â€˜You’re home,’ she says. ‘Hi, Evie. How are you?’
    â€˜Good, thanks.’
    â€˜Now, I’m off to see Andrea.’
    A smirk curls Evie’s lip. If she looks at Alex she knows she’ll start giggling.
    â€˜I’ll be back by six.