They’re going to be playing the Zeffirelli version at the cinema just for all the HSC students.”
“Would you like to go see it with me?”
I smiled up at him and nodded. “I’d like that.”
People began to file out and I spotted my mother and Sister Louise looking at me and shaking their heads. Trouble as usual.
“That nun hates me.”
“Ivy reckons she’s a living doll.”
“Yeah, a voodoo one,” I said. “I’m going to grab my mother before Sister finds something else to complain about.”
“I’ll leave you to it. It was great beating you tonight.”
“You won’t be so lucky next time,” I called out after him.
I thought about his mood swing all weekend. It depressed me for a while because I was suddenly faced with a John that I really didn’t know.
The first time I ever saw him was about two years ago during a debate. One of the girls in the debating team left to be an exchange student and I was asked to fill her place. We were both third speakers and the topic was so boring that I can’t even remember it. But I do remember him looking over at me and mouthing the words “I’m bored.”
From that minute on I begged to stay on the debating team and I haven’t regretted a minute of it. Every time we debate at the same venue we race off alone afterward and talk. It’s kind of the highlight of my boring social life.
Another interesting thing that happened over the weekend was that I got a job at McDonald’s. Anna and I had seen the advertisement in our local paper and decided to go for it.
McDonald’s is not the most glamorous job to have, but living on five dollars’ pocket money a week is like something out of
The Brady Bunch
. I didn’t tell Mama that because she’d have a complex.
We had a big fight after I told her about the job. She eventually backed down when I explained to her that Anna’s father would let her have the car for the two nights a week we work.
Anna and I spoke on the phone for an hour about how disgusting the McDonald’s uniform was, about all the guys from St. Anthony’s who go to that particular outlet and especially about what we’d be doing with the money.
Sportsgirl, Country Road and Esprit, here we come.
Five
I LOOKED AT myself in the mirror for the billionth time and teased my fringe for the zillionth, wishing that my neckline wasn’t so high.
My grandmother had volunteered to make my dress. Short, black and velvet with a nice neckline, I had told her. Instead it was emerald green (because only people in mourning wear black, she informed me), it came to my knees and the neckline was almost choking me.
“Josephine, why do you have to wear those low medical shoes?” Mama asked from the door.
“Maaa, they’re Doc Martens,” I informed her.
“Well, pardon my ignorance.”
“It’s the fashion.”
“You would look much lovelier if you wore your flat black shoes. It’s not that important to look like everyone else.”
I looked over to her with little patience. “I feel like the Virgin Mary with this neckline.”
“I don’t think the Virgin Mary ever wore a velvet dress to her knees. Now do something to please me and change the shoes.”
“Just say nobody asks me to dance,” I asked, getting flustered.
“Because you’re not wearing those doctor shoes?”
“No,” I said. “Because they might find me unattractive.
Just say the music starts and every girl is dancing with a boy, except me.”
“For the one hundredth time, Josie, you look beautiful. You should wear your hair down more often. I can’t believe that you were lucky enough to have beautiful curly hair and you don’t appreciate it.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re my mother.”
The doorbell rang and she pulled me away from the mirror. “Go get your shoes and I’ll let the girls in.”
I hugged her hard and laughed.
“Thanks for letting me go tonight, Mama. I’ll never ask for anything again.”
“I want you home at twelve on the dot,”
“Would you like to go see it with me?”
I smiled up at him and nodded. “I’d like that.”
People began to file out and I spotted my mother and Sister Louise looking at me and shaking their heads. Trouble as usual.
“That nun hates me.”
“Ivy reckons she’s a living doll.”
“Yeah, a voodoo one,” I said. “I’m going to grab my mother before Sister finds something else to complain about.”
“I’ll leave you to it. It was great beating you tonight.”
“You won’t be so lucky next time,” I called out after him.
I thought about his mood swing all weekend. It depressed me for a while because I was suddenly faced with a John that I really didn’t know.
The first time I ever saw him was about two years ago during a debate. One of the girls in the debating team left to be an exchange student and I was asked to fill her place. We were both third speakers and the topic was so boring that I can’t even remember it. But I do remember him looking over at me and mouthing the words “I’m bored.”
From that minute on I begged to stay on the debating team and I haven’t regretted a minute of it. Every time we debate at the same venue we race off alone afterward and talk. It’s kind of the highlight of my boring social life.
Another interesting thing that happened over the weekend was that I got a job at McDonald’s. Anna and I had seen the advertisement in our local paper and decided to go for it.
McDonald’s is not the most glamorous job to have, but living on five dollars’ pocket money a week is like something out of
The Brady Bunch
. I didn’t tell Mama that because she’d have a complex.
We had a big fight after I told her about the job. She eventually backed down when I explained to her that Anna’s father would let her have the car for the two nights a week we work.
Anna and I spoke on the phone for an hour about how disgusting the McDonald’s uniform was, about all the guys from St. Anthony’s who go to that particular outlet and especially about what we’d be doing with the money.
Sportsgirl, Country Road and Esprit, here we come.
Five
I LOOKED AT myself in the mirror for the billionth time and teased my fringe for the zillionth, wishing that my neckline wasn’t so high.
My grandmother had volunteered to make my dress. Short, black and velvet with a nice neckline, I had told her. Instead it was emerald green (because only people in mourning wear black, she informed me), it came to my knees and the neckline was almost choking me.
“Josephine, why do you have to wear those low medical shoes?” Mama asked from the door.
“Maaa, they’re Doc Martens,” I informed her.
“Well, pardon my ignorance.”
“It’s the fashion.”
“You would look much lovelier if you wore your flat black shoes. It’s not that important to look like everyone else.”
I looked over to her with little patience. “I feel like the Virgin Mary with this neckline.”
“I don’t think the Virgin Mary ever wore a velvet dress to her knees. Now do something to please me and change the shoes.”
“Just say nobody asks me to dance,” I asked, getting flustered.
“Because you’re not wearing those doctor shoes?”
“No,” I said. “Because they might find me unattractive.
Just say the music starts and every girl is dancing with a boy, except me.”
“For the one hundredth time, Josie, you look beautiful. You should wear your hair down more often. I can’t believe that you were lucky enough to have beautiful curly hair and you don’t appreciate it.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re my mother.”
The doorbell rang and she pulled me away from the mirror. “Go get your shoes and I’ll let the girls in.”
I hugged her hard and laughed.
“Thanks for letting me go tonight, Mama. I’ll never ask for anything again.”
“I want you home at twelve on the dot,”
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