feel so helpless,’ Mum groans. ‘I want to go to Portland right now and find my son.’
‘I know, I know,’ says Beth.
The three of them grab each other and start wailing and moaning. This isn’t a wedding; it’s a funeral!
I sigh and stare at them.
This is horrible.
Another knock on the door. Is this Visit the Studleys day? I walk back down the passage and open the door. It’s Bin and Cathy, her friend.
‘Hi,’ says Bin. ‘Is Sam home?’
‘No.’
‘Oh. Well, do you know where he is? We have to talk to him.’
‘So do we!’
‘Huh?’
‘Come in. You may as well, everyone else in this town’s here.’
Bin stops short when she sees the wailing crew in the lounge room.
‘Mum! What’s wrong?’
‘Sam’s done a runner. Nicked Steve’s van,’ I go.
‘What?’ Bin stares at me. ‘I don’t believe it. Sam would never do something like that!’
‘Yeah. It’s a bit hard to believe.’
‘Not Sam,’ says Cathy. ‘Cooja, maybe. But not Sam. He’s so … tight.’
‘Tight?’ says Mum, and starts bawling again.
‘She means straight,’ I translate over the noise. ‘Bin, Cathy, let’s go to my room. Maybe you guys can give me a clue where he’s gone.’
I sprawl on my bed. Bin spreads herself on the other bed, staring at me anxiously with her bright blue contact-lensed eyes, and Cathy plops her curves onto the beanbag, and hangs her head so that her dark hair falls like a curtain and I can’t see her face. She knows something, or else why is she acting weird and sort of defensive?
‘Are you sure he didn’t say anything to you guys?’ I ask. ‘Anything that’d give us a clue?’
‘Nah. He doesn’t tell me his secrets,’ Bin goes. ‘But then, boys never do tell girls secrets.’
‘They just use girls up,’ says Cathy.
Whoa. Something’s going on here.
‘Maybe Sam told Cooja that he was gonna run,’ I go.
‘Cooja? That walking slime bag?’
Cathy bursts into tears. Bin reaches down and pats her hand.
Maybe we have some odd substance in the walls or something that makes people cry? But then I don’t feel like crying, do I?
‘Cooja’s broken up with Cathy,’ says Bin.
I just stop myself from saying ‘Again?’ and hand her the box of tissues.
‘I shouldn’t have done it,’ sobs Cathy.
‘Done what?’ goes Bin.
‘Done … you know …’
‘What?’
‘You know …’
‘You mean sex?’ I go.
Bin looks shocked.
‘Cathy! You didn’t!’
Cathy hangs her head again and mumbles through her hair.
‘I didn’t mean for it to happen. He was just kissing me and we were — you know — just messing round … and then—well … it happened.’
‘Okay, so it happened,’ I say. ‘It’s not the end of the world. Unless — you’re not pregnant are you?’
‘No. He wore a — you know — ’
Ready, willing and able, eh, Cooja? I think, as Cathy sobs and Bin looks grim. Then she gets up, sits on the beanbag and puts her arm round Cathy.
‘So you’re not a virgin. You had to lose it sometime,’ she says, trying to act cool.
Not exactly the most comforting thing to say, I think, but then Bin’s in shock. People say odd things when they’re shocked, and Bin doesn’t know how to handle it.
‘But he told ,’ wails Cathy. ‘He promised hewouldn’t. He told Boxie, and he was winking and carrying on, and then he practically told the whole school.’
‘So how come I didn’t know?’ says Bin. ‘I’m supposed to be your best friend. How come you didn’t tell me ?’
Oh, good one, Bin, lay a guilt call on your best friend! I glare at her and she clams up.
‘He told all his mates. Why did he do that? I thought he loved me but I think he’s dumped me,’ sobs Cathy. ‘He won’t answer my calls and he walks away if I go near him. I feel like mud.’
I sigh. I feel a million years old. Did I used to feel and think like this?
‘Look, Cathy. It’s his word against yours. If anyone says anything, just look scornful and say “Grow a
‘I know, I know,’ says Beth.
The three of them grab each other and start wailing and moaning. This isn’t a wedding; it’s a funeral!
I sigh and stare at them.
This is horrible.
Another knock on the door. Is this Visit the Studleys day? I walk back down the passage and open the door. It’s Bin and Cathy, her friend.
‘Hi,’ says Bin. ‘Is Sam home?’
‘No.’
‘Oh. Well, do you know where he is? We have to talk to him.’
‘So do we!’
‘Huh?’
‘Come in. You may as well, everyone else in this town’s here.’
Bin stops short when she sees the wailing crew in the lounge room.
‘Mum! What’s wrong?’
‘Sam’s done a runner. Nicked Steve’s van,’ I go.
‘What?’ Bin stares at me. ‘I don’t believe it. Sam would never do something like that!’
‘Yeah. It’s a bit hard to believe.’
‘Not Sam,’ says Cathy. ‘Cooja, maybe. But not Sam. He’s so … tight.’
‘Tight?’ says Mum, and starts bawling again.
‘She means straight,’ I translate over the noise. ‘Bin, Cathy, let’s go to my room. Maybe you guys can give me a clue where he’s gone.’
I sprawl on my bed. Bin spreads herself on the other bed, staring at me anxiously with her bright blue contact-lensed eyes, and Cathy plops her curves onto the beanbag, and hangs her head so that her dark hair falls like a curtain and I can’t see her face. She knows something, or else why is she acting weird and sort of defensive?
‘Are you sure he didn’t say anything to you guys?’ I ask. ‘Anything that’d give us a clue?’
‘Nah. He doesn’t tell me his secrets,’ Bin goes. ‘But then, boys never do tell girls secrets.’
‘They just use girls up,’ says Cathy.
Whoa. Something’s going on here.
‘Maybe Sam told Cooja that he was gonna run,’ I go.
‘Cooja? That walking slime bag?’
Cathy bursts into tears. Bin reaches down and pats her hand.
Maybe we have some odd substance in the walls or something that makes people cry? But then I don’t feel like crying, do I?
‘Cooja’s broken up with Cathy,’ says Bin.
I just stop myself from saying ‘Again?’ and hand her the box of tissues.
‘I shouldn’t have done it,’ sobs Cathy.
‘Done what?’ goes Bin.
‘Done … you know …’
‘What?’
‘You know …’
‘You mean sex?’ I go.
Bin looks shocked.
‘Cathy! You didn’t!’
Cathy hangs her head again and mumbles through her hair.
‘I didn’t mean for it to happen. He was just kissing me and we were — you know — just messing round … and then—well … it happened.’
‘Okay, so it happened,’ I say. ‘It’s not the end of the world. Unless — you’re not pregnant are you?’
‘No. He wore a — you know — ’
Ready, willing and able, eh, Cooja? I think, as Cathy sobs and Bin looks grim. Then she gets up, sits on the beanbag and puts her arm round Cathy.
‘So you’re not a virgin. You had to lose it sometime,’ she says, trying to act cool.
Not exactly the most comforting thing to say, I think, but then Bin’s in shock. People say odd things when they’re shocked, and Bin doesn’t know how to handle it.
‘But he told ,’ wails Cathy. ‘He promised hewouldn’t. He told Boxie, and he was winking and carrying on, and then he practically told the whole school.’
‘So how come I didn’t know?’ says Bin. ‘I’m supposed to be your best friend. How come you didn’t tell me ?’
Oh, good one, Bin, lay a guilt call on your best friend! I glare at her and she clams up.
‘He told all his mates. Why did he do that? I thought he loved me but I think he’s dumped me,’ sobs Cathy. ‘He won’t answer my calls and he walks away if I go near him. I feel like mud.’
I sigh. I feel a million years old. Did I used to feel and think like this?
‘Look, Cathy. It’s his word against yours. If anyone says anything, just look scornful and say “Grow a
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