be comfortable around an axe murderer.
'Just be yourself.' That's what the photographer who
did the Seahorse Girl shoot had told me. It helped too.
By the end I was actually having heaps of fun.
Getting your photo taken while surfing was easy,
'cause you're thinking about the next wave and the
camera's not right in your face. Out of the surf was
harder. Much harder.
I said that to Georgie once and she answered, 'You'd
better get used to it, Kia.'
I felt bad after that 'cause I wasn't saying it to make
myself look good in front of her. I didn't understand
why I had a sponsor and Georgie didn't. It made no
sense. She was the best surfer out of all of us. One day
Georgie really could be on the Dream Tour.
One night when I was chatting to Ace on msn, the
topic of why Georgie didn't have a sponsor came up. I
didn't start it. How could I, when Dad kept banging on
and on about being sensitive towards Georgie and
Micki 'cause they didn't have sponsors and I did?
It was Ace who brought it up. She asked me if
Georgie'd had any bites from sponsors.
I answered truthfully and said no.
Ace swore me to secrecy but she thought that
although Georgie was the best surfer, she probably
wasn't quite what surf companies were after.
I'd asked Ace, 'What exactly does that mean?'
Ace answered, 'What I'm trying to say nicely, Kia, is
that Georgie probably doesn't take such a good photo.
Get it?'
'Okay, ladies,' Kent said, picking up the camera with
a bit of a grunt and directing us over to the sand. 'We'll
start with a few shots down by the water.'
'Do you want us to take our boards?' Georgie asked.
'Definitely,' Kent replied. 'We'll stagger your
heights, from shortest to tallest.'
'I'm still taller than you!' I reminded Micki.
'Just,' she said and laughed.
'Georgie, you're the tallest,' Kent said, 'so we'll start –'
Ace corrected him: 'Kent, I'm taller than Georgie.'
'Yes, but darl this is just a shot of the other three. The
piece is about the Australian Junior Team Training
Camp. You've got the day off.'
'Oh, yeah.' Ace folded her arms. 'I – I knew that.
Sorry. I – I was thinking . . . um . . .'
'No sweat, Courtney,' Kent replied, 'but I was
thinking in one of the shots it'd be really cute if Micki
wore your Kelly Slater hat.'
ACE
The girls knew I was faking when I said I had a
headache and was going back to the house. Kia shot me
a total greasy like I'd just ruined the whole weekend. As
if I'd expect Kia to sit around for an hour while I had my
photo taken.
Anyway, it was better for me if they thought I was
faking a headache and having a sulk rather than
finding out the real reason, which was Operation Get
My Balding, Hatless Head Out of Sight.
I handled it okay when Kent so kindly reminded me
that this was a story about the Australian Junior Team
Training Camp, which I was fully aware I was not a part
of. I didn't like the way he called me 'darl' but then
I didn't want to be in his stupid photo. Georgie knew
that.
Lucky I'm a quick thinker, 'cause when he said that
bit about Micki wearing my hat, I nearly began to
hyperventilate. So far, I had got through the weekend
without having to take my hat off once.
Height, height, height , my head started chanting. Find the highest point and then you'll be safe . Gee, I'd be good in
a tsunami.
So, casually, I strolled up the sandhill and sat there.
My quick thinking had also come in handy last night
when I had the brainwave to tell the girls what
Megan'd said about starfish having no brains. Kia
completely forgot about checking out the Kelly Slater
signature on my hat after that. But then it did kind of
ruin the atmosphere and boy, did I cop an earful from
Georgie this morning.
From the sandhill I watched – along with a snooping
little crowd that was gathering on the beach – as Kent
styled the girls in a line from shortest to tallest, on their
knees, arms around one another, in a circle facing
their boards, in a circle without their boards, blah blah
blah . . .
I'd
'Just be yourself.' That's what the photographer who
did the Seahorse Girl shoot had told me. It helped too.
By the end I was actually having heaps of fun.
Getting your photo taken while surfing was easy,
'cause you're thinking about the next wave and the
camera's not right in your face. Out of the surf was
harder. Much harder.
I said that to Georgie once and she answered, 'You'd
better get used to it, Kia.'
I felt bad after that 'cause I wasn't saying it to make
myself look good in front of her. I didn't understand
why I had a sponsor and Georgie didn't. It made no
sense. She was the best surfer out of all of us. One day
Georgie really could be on the Dream Tour.
One night when I was chatting to Ace on msn, the
topic of why Georgie didn't have a sponsor came up. I
didn't start it. How could I, when Dad kept banging on
and on about being sensitive towards Georgie and
Micki 'cause they didn't have sponsors and I did?
It was Ace who brought it up. She asked me if
Georgie'd had any bites from sponsors.
I answered truthfully and said no.
Ace swore me to secrecy but she thought that
although Georgie was the best surfer, she probably
wasn't quite what surf companies were after.
I'd asked Ace, 'What exactly does that mean?'
Ace answered, 'What I'm trying to say nicely, Kia, is
that Georgie probably doesn't take such a good photo.
Get it?'
'Okay, ladies,' Kent said, picking up the camera with
a bit of a grunt and directing us over to the sand. 'We'll
start with a few shots down by the water.'
'Do you want us to take our boards?' Georgie asked.
'Definitely,' Kent replied. 'We'll stagger your
heights, from shortest to tallest.'
'I'm still taller than you!' I reminded Micki.
'Just,' she said and laughed.
'Georgie, you're the tallest,' Kent said, 'so we'll start –'
Ace corrected him: 'Kent, I'm taller than Georgie.'
'Yes, but darl this is just a shot of the other three. The
piece is about the Australian Junior Team Training
Camp. You've got the day off.'
'Oh, yeah.' Ace folded her arms. 'I – I knew that.
Sorry. I – I was thinking . . . um . . .'
'No sweat, Courtney,' Kent replied, 'but I was
thinking in one of the shots it'd be really cute if Micki
wore your Kelly Slater hat.'
ACE
The girls knew I was faking when I said I had a
headache and was going back to the house. Kia shot me
a total greasy like I'd just ruined the whole weekend. As
if I'd expect Kia to sit around for an hour while I had my
photo taken.
Anyway, it was better for me if they thought I was
faking a headache and having a sulk rather than
finding out the real reason, which was Operation Get
My Balding, Hatless Head Out of Sight.
I handled it okay when Kent so kindly reminded me
that this was a story about the Australian Junior Team
Training Camp, which I was fully aware I was not a part
of. I didn't like the way he called me 'darl' but then
I didn't want to be in his stupid photo. Georgie knew
that.
Lucky I'm a quick thinker, 'cause when he said that
bit about Micki wearing my hat, I nearly began to
hyperventilate. So far, I had got through the weekend
without having to take my hat off once.
Height, height, height , my head started chanting. Find the highest point and then you'll be safe . Gee, I'd be good in
a tsunami.
So, casually, I strolled up the sandhill and sat there.
My quick thinking had also come in handy last night
when I had the brainwave to tell the girls what
Megan'd said about starfish having no brains. Kia
completely forgot about checking out the Kelly Slater
signature on my hat after that. But then it did kind of
ruin the atmosphere and boy, did I cop an earful from
Georgie this morning.
From the sandhill I watched – along with a snooping
little crowd that was gathering on the beach – as Kent
styled the girls in a line from shortest to tallest, on their
knees, arms around one another, in a circle facing
their boards, in a circle without their boards, blah blah
blah . . .
I'd
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