Star Page 9

  ‘Like he’s not that into me anymore. He said he wanted to take it slow but we’ve kind of stalled, you know, like our engine’s broken down.’

  ‘Really? That sucks.’ She pouts in sympathy. ‘I’m sorry. Can I help?’ Her voice is empathic, kind.

  ‘It’s okay. He’s been stressed out, I guess, with the film application due next week. And ...’

  Lucy waits patiently. I think of Mum and how much I’d confide in her about Oliver and me if she was here. What she would say, think, advise me to do ... I will never know. I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. I want to tell Lucy how Oliver told me he loved me months ago, then never repeated it. But it feels so personal, embarrassing. I don’t need her sympathy and I don’t want her to feel bad that Malcolm has just confessed his feelings for her, and take away from her special moment. Anyway, I know it’s my fault because I kept my friendship with Jaxon a secret. And Oliver felt betrayed, with good reason.

  ‘He’ll be gone less than a week, but I’ll miss him,’ I say instead, walking towards my favourite bird, Nell, the injured magpie. Her leg is now free of its bandage and she’s looking even more elegant, with shiny black feathers and a white cap on her head. Lucy fed her when she was young—small pieces of meat with chopsticks. She’s nearly ready for release.

  I think of the farewell at the bus stop this morning. Rather than it being a teary embrace, Oliver was more focused on reminding me to post our video so we could take advantage of the optimal time for viewer traffic.

  When Lucy and I get to Chirp’s cage, she’s pecking at her tray of seeds. I note her smart new laying box that Dad bought when we went to the pet store. It’s very high fashion. The door to Chirp’s enclosure is open, as usual, so she can wander the garden, scratch for insects and sunbathe. She’s a little lame in one leg so she never ventures too far.

  ‘So the video is up on Keep Kind now?’ Lucy collects a big white egg from Chirp’s nesting box. ‘How did the face blurring work out?’

  ‘Yeah, there’s no way anyone would recognise Pete or his father now.’

  Lucy has promised not to tell Malcolm about the video, and if he sees it by chance she won’t reveal that the face behind the blur is Pete’s. Since Malcolm and Pete are cousins, the risk is too high that he’ll tell someone. Then everyone would be talking about it, Pete would find out, Bruce would be furious, and Dad would be in astronomical trouble.

  Given the only YouTube followers we have from West Creek are our immediate family members, there’s no reason to worry anyone else will see the footage. And even if it does get out, I can just say I reposted it from somewhere else. Only Pete and Bruce would know the truth, and it’s not like they’d admit anything.

  ‘Here you go.’ Lucy cracks the egg and Chirp jumps towards it, pecking the yoke feverishly. When she’s finished, I reach down to scoop her up. She’s big and heavy now and spills over my arms. I take a moment to cuddle and coo at her.

  ‘Any viewers yet?’ Lucy asks.

  ‘To be honest, I’ve been so busy I haven’t checked.’

  ‘You could have checked on the bus here.’ Lucy pets Chirp gently.

  ‘I admit, I’m nervous.’ I bury my face in Chirp’s feathers. ‘Oliver’s going to be even more stressed if no one sees it.’

  ‘It may take time, but you have to be patient. Your channel’s too good not to become popular.’ Lucy points to the large tree at the back of her garden. ‘Meet you there in a minute. Not sure if we have watermelon so I’ll bring banana.’

  We have our tradition. Lucy will disappear into the kitchen and return with a flat green tray piled with plates of homemade cookies with no dairy or eggs especially for me, and treats for Chirp—watermelon is Chirp’s favourite, but if it’s not in season then banana is plan B. There’ll also be glasses and the lemonade Lucy’s mum makes fresh from the lemons on their tree and keeps in a large pitcher in the fridge.

  I walk to the far end of the garden and sit down slowly, my back to the tree. Chirp settles on my lap and I stroke her feathers, digging my fingers gently under them to scratch her goosebumpy skin. She closes her eyes. This is the spot where Oliver and I kissed for the first time. Chirp was in my lap, just like now.

  My phone rings. It’s Oliver. He must have heard my thoughts. I check my watch; he should be halfway there.

  ‘Our thing ...’ His voice sounds strangled. ‘It’s gone ... gone ...’

  ‘What thing?’ I ask, starting to get worried. ‘Oliver, what’s happened?’

  ‘It’s gone ... The video, it’s ... I can’t even ... Sky, it’s gone viral, and ... and ...’ He can hardly form whole words. ‘And our subscribers are going bananas.’ He virtually squeals the last word, which makes me laugh. Bananas? He has never used that word before. ‘Can you believe it? We did it, Sky! I have a shot at Viola Films.’ He now sounds like he’s on top of a roller-coaster.

  ‘But ...’ I’m still trying to process. Viral. Bananas. ‘How?’

  ‘I don’t know! Will you look? There’s no charger on the bus and I’m down to two per cent. I should never have watched that show I downloaded, and now my phone is—’

  ‘Oliver?’ The line’s silent. ‘Hello?’ I try calling back, but it goes straight to voicemail.

  Lucy returns and puts the tray down in the grass. I take a cookie and look blankly at her, still not believing the words I’m about to say. ‘Oliver says we’ve gone viral.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Exactly!’ I open YouTube and click through to our video.

  The cookie falls out of my hand. ‘Two thousand, eight hundred and sixty-three views?’ I stare at Lucy. ‘That can’t be right.’

  ‘Maybe it’s a technical glitch.’

  I check our subscriber number. ‘We have one hundred and eighty-one subscribers.’

  ‘No.’

  My hands make an explosion around my head—this is mind blowing. I scroll down to the comments and show them to Lucy.

  ‘But how?’ She pushes her glasses back up her nose.

  ‘Let me check something.’ I go into our Keep Kind Facebook page where I cross-posted the video. Usually we’d get twenty or so likes there, mostly friends and family.

  Not today. It’s in the thousands.

  I have two notifications. My heart quickens. The first announces that I’ve been accepted into the Activists Unite group. Finally! I want to yelp with joy. The second is a direct message.

  I can’t even believe it. It’s from Stella.

  Sky.

  I discovered your kangaroo video and shared it.

  Such important work, Sky.

  We know what the Code of Practice prescribes; however, this kind of casual off-the-books violence is harder to verify. I’ve heard about it from people in the field and assume, given the remote locations, late hours and lack of oversight, it isn’t a rare event.

  I want to hear more about how this video came to be. Keep Kind, by the way, is so cute and—

  Cute? Stella thinks we’re cute too?

  —I’m impressed that you’re making such a mark for a woman of your age. I would be delighted to include you in our Activist Day; I think you and Oliver would get a lot out of meeting other people in the global movement. What do you think? Can you get to Melbourne this weekend?

  ‘No way,’ I say, my jaw slackening in disbelief. ‘She’s inviting me.’

  ‘Who?’ Lucy asks.

  ‘Stella! Oh my God, she’s so amazing. Luce, this is going to solve everything! Oliver will be happy again. I’ll get to meet Stella and all the awesome activists. Oliver and I can hang out in Melbourne and maybe ...’ There are stars in my eyes as I imagine us walking down a long boulevard, hand in hand. He’ll whisper words of love in my ear and we will finally move on to the next stage in our relationship.

  ‘But how will you get to Melbourne in time?’ Lucy asks. ‘It’s Friday and the thing’s on Sunday morning, and where will you stay? Will Paula let you go?’

  ‘I have to go, Luce. I’ll take the overnight bus to
night, I just have to.’

  The sun’s setting as I run to catch the bus back home. I try calling Oliver just in case his phone has miraculously recharged to tell him I’m coming to Melbourne, but it goes straight to voicemail again. I send him a text, hoping he’ll get it soon.

  I check the numbers on our video again as I take my seat. It has gone, just like Oliver said, bananas. I have twenty-five new notifications. Subscribers are joining by the minute. Comments fill the space under our kangaroo footage. Murderer. He’s evil. What a scumbag.

  I call Dad and tell him about the footage being shared. He can’t believe it either, that his one small act could have had such a massive effect. Word about kangaroo cruelty is getting out and he’s played a part. This is the power of activism. He’s in the middle of a meeting at West Creek Tourism about their website, but he tells me he’s excited I’m going to Melbourne and wishes he could come too, but he’s photographing the Country Music Festival on Saturday night. He even offers to pay for my trip, which is so generous. Not only is my father loving photography, but he’s seeing animals like I do. Like sensitive beings who need our protection.

  And it’s not only the kangaroo footage, but our other animal videos are being liked and shared too. I’ve finally been accepted. Issie, my foster-cat Facebook friend, has been regularly tagging me in her friends’ posts and I now have several friend requests waiting from cool-looking people from around the world—people who share the same vision as I do: a better world for animals.

  Chapter 10

  Ungluing my eyes from my phone, I burst into the house to find Paula in her usual spot on the couch. On the TV is a game show she’s become fond of lately.

  I drop my bag and give her a quick summary of why I need to leave for Melbourne tonight. She immediately dismisses my request.

  ‘But you can’t say no,’ I say over the sounds of a cash register binging on the TV.

  ‘I am saying no, sweetie.’ She sits up and runs her hand through her hair. ‘There’s no way. I’m sorry.’

  ‘But Oliver’s in Melbourne.’ Paula is showing zero respect for how important this is to me. There’s no time to waste on arguments. I have to check the bus schedule and make sure there’s one tonight.

  ‘Exactly. Alone in Melbourne in a hotel with your boyfriend ...’ She glares at me. ‘You do the maths.’

  I know what she’s saying is true, but I also know how to be responsible, and I haven’t given her any reason to doubt that lately.

  ‘I told you, he’s staying at his father’s,’ I say as the TV audience roars with applause.

  ‘That doesn’t solve the situation. You’re a sixteen-year-old girl, and you’ll be alone in a hotel room in a big city. I don’t even have a single friend in Melbourne to look out for you. What kind of parental figure would I be to say yes to this last-minute plan of yours?’

  I pick up the TV remote from the coffee table and press mute. ‘I’m old enough to look after myself for one night.’

  ‘Sky.’ Her voice heightens in pitch. ‘Last time you looked after yourself you ended up hitchhiking in a truck and the police were called before you slipped away again and nearly froze to death.’

  ‘Oh my God! I’ve apologised for that a million times already!’ She needs to understand that I do actually learn from my mistakes.

  I hear the front door close, then Dave comes into the lounge room. He looks between me and Paula. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Sky wants to go by herself to Melbourne,’ Paula virtually shouts at him, ‘stay alone in a hotel and go to some secret activists’ day.’

  Dave raises his eyebrows. ‘Is this the thing being organised by that Stella woman?’

  ‘Who?’ Paula interrupts.

  ‘Stella,’ I say through gritted teeth. She’s just reinforcing how totally out of touch she is with my life. ‘Dad says it’s okay. He’s offered to pay for my trip.’

  Dave looks at me. ‘Don’t need him to do that,’ he says, his voice flat. Great, I’ve embarrassed him when I intended to reassure him.

  ‘Money’s not the issue,’ Paula says, then turns to me. ‘Does Adam think you’re staying with Oliver or does he know you’re planning to sleep alone in a hotel?’

  I don’t answer because, actually, that never came up. They both wait. It would be such a stupid lie if I said he knew. And I’ve promised not to lie.

  ‘But you don’t understand.’ My voice sounds all pleading and pathetic. I try to gather myself. ‘Stella’s my idol. I may never get an opportunity like this again.’

  Paula shakes her head.

  ‘Sky showed me her articles. They are impressive,’ Dave says. At least he gets it.

  ‘Right.’ I look pointedly at Paula. ‘She’s impressive, like the Beyoncé of animal rights.’

  Paula turns off the TV and bangs down the control. ‘I don’t care if she’s the Queen of England and has summoned you to high tea.’

  ‘Dave, you’re not going to believe this,’ I say. ‘Stella saw our kangaroo video and shared it to all her followers. It has nearly five thousand views already.’

  ‘Is that right?’ His eyes open wide. ‘Any kickback from ...?’

  ‘Kickback?’ Paula frowns. I know Dave’s avoiding Pete’s name; he doesn’t want to stress out Paula.

  ‘And Stella’s also invited Oliver and me to this super-exclusive conference. It’s on Sunday.’

  Dave nods, staring at the black TV screen, weighing my words carefully.

  ‘All I want is to take the bus down,’ I say slowly, hoping to sound as mature and responsible as possible. ‘I’ll sleep somewhere super safe, somewhere highly recommended, and then meet Oliver at the conference. It’s a really professional gathering of people who are active in the movement.’

  ‘And after the conference ends, what then?’ Dave prompts. He sits down next to Paula with a sigh. Now I’m towering over both of them.

  ‘I’ll take a bus right back. Or if it goes late, I can just sleep one more night.’

  Dave rubs his neck. ‘It’s a twelve-hour trip, Sky, and—’

  Paula jumps in. ‘Now you’re saying two nights? There’s no way—’

  Dave puts his hand on Paula’s knee. ‘I got this, babe.’

  Paula shakes her head, muttering, ‘She didn’t show me Stella’s articles.’ She rubs her belly rhythmically, and for the first time I notice the black circles lining her eyes.

  I attempt to gather myself again. Dave is a reasonable guy. He’ll come around. ‘I know it’s a long trip, but it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.’ I bite my lip, trying to curb the rising emotion.

  ‘Once in a lifetime,’ Paula repeats, not sympathetically.

  ‘Yes!’ I raise my voice. ‘Once in a lifetime.’

  Dave continues calmly. ‘Oliver’s at his father’s place, right?’

  I nod, feeling my eyes fill.

  ‘Can he ask his dad if you can stay there as well? Maybe there’s a couch free.’

  ‘He already said no when we thought there was a small chance we’d go.’

  ‘You never said a thing about this to me,’ Paula says.

  ‘You’ve been busy,’ I look at her belly, ‘with your little star.’

  She looks like I’ve slapped her.

  ‘Sorry,’ I say. That was mean of me, but I need to fortify myself again, close up tight like a clam.

  Dave sits down next to Paula. ‘Can you call Oliver now and double-check? That would solve the problem.’

  I check my watch again. ‘I’ve tried ten times and his phone just goes straight to voicemail. If I’m going to make it, I have to leave tonight.’

  ‘I wish I could go with you,’ Dave says, ‘but I have a deadline for a client that I’m struggling to meet as it is. Paula doesn’t have the strength right now. What about Melody?’

  I shake my head. ‘She has a bunch of jobs, and every weekend she’s working at the markets. She barely has any time to talk, let alone travel.’

  ‘I don’t know, Sky.’ Dave rubs
his neck again. ‘Staying alone in a big city? You’re still young, and—’

  ‘That’s what I’m saying,’ Paula interrupts. ‘There’s no way in the world any mother would let their sixteen-year-old girl stay alone in a hotel.’

  I glare at her, thinking, You’re not my mother. Saying it aloud would have been more than cruel, but I can’t help missing Mum right now. It’s times like these that the grief kicks me in the chest, and I feel the impact, the shock, the pain, as if they are real. My chin starts twitching, and I know I’m about to cry. I just can’t help it. ‘I could stay in a youth hostel. That way there’ll be more people around.’

  ‘People are exactly what I’m worried about. Sweetie, I’m sorry, but it’s a no.’ Paula pulls herself up to stand. It takes a moment for her to steady herself. ‘Truly, I am sorry. There will be a next time, I promise.’ She moves forward to hug me.

  I swivel, power-walk to my room, and shut the door. Loudly. I know I’m being dramatic but I know Mum would understand how important this is to me; she would move heaven and earth to make this happen. But she’s gone.

  I flop down on my bed and try to think of a plan. I’m going to Activist Day. There’s no way I’m not. I could tell them I’m going to sleep at Lucy’s, that we’re preparing a special surprise for Malcolm’s birthday and she needs my help making it. Then I’ll take the bus. But would they buy it? And all the lying, deceiving ... I promised and re-promised Paula that I would be better.

  Bella scratches at my door. I open it, and she jumps up onto my bed. ‘What should I do?’ I ask her, scratching the side of her tummy. She rolls onto her back for more.

  My phone beeps with a text.

  What did Paula say? Lucy asks. U taking the bus tonight? Where will you stay?

  It’s a no-go. I add a stream of sad angry faces. None of them quite reflect my mood, which is a mixture of disappointment, indignation, sadness and frustration.

  Why? Lucy asks.

  Can’t stay alone in a hotel. Guess they don’t trust me. My fingers fly over the phone. I really wanted to see Stella speak. And it would’ve been a good chance to spend more time with Oliver. We need it.