I.
She’s a hurricane. Forever whirling from one place to the next. Full of chatter, laughs at the right time. Everyone wants her attention, and she’s got everyone’s attention. She wears her simple dark brown hair differently every day. Yesterday, it was a high ponytail with a ribbon; today, two braids and a couple of sparkly clips. Not too many though, otherwise the teachers would tell her off. Her summer uniform is also just above her knees when it should be at her knees. She still keeps it longer than the other girls. Ah, Viv. You goody two-shoes. She’s always wanted to be seen as someone who breaks rules, but at the end of the day, she never wants to get in trouble. Her parents would kill her, I guess.
“Mesh!” She’s spotted me on the second floor verandah. “Where are you going?”
“Canteen.”
“Have you got practice now?”
“Nah.”
“Can I sit with you guys?”
“Yeah, see you down there.”
“Can you get me a chocolate milk?”
“Get it yourself.”
“Pleeeeease,” she whines.
“No.”
Viv’s lived down my street since Primary School. We’re both the youngest in our families, but I’m the year above her. Our suburb is pretty White-Australian, so I guess it was inevitable that our immigrant families would become friends. Viv has two older brothers, and I’ve got just the one. We all grew up hanging out together. She didn’t mind kind of sucking at everything we did. She sucks at sports and she always loses in video games. And she still chooses Peach as her character in everything.
We’re all pretty close. I consider Jeremy and Michael like my own brothers, and Ved can get pretty protective of Viv. One year, for some regrettable reason, we were Christmas shopping in Rundle Mall, drowning in Adelaide’s entire population. Out of nowhere, Ved yanked some guys collar, threw him back, and told him to “fuck off.” I’ve seen him react this way on the soccer field, when someone called him a curry-muncher. So, I thought maybe he’d copped another slur. But Viv stood between him and the sorry bugger.
“It’s fine, Ved! Please, leave it!”
They didn’t speak to each other for the rest of the day. When we were walking back from the bus stop, and she’d walked into her house without saying goodbye, Ved said that some guy had felt up her arse.
“The chocolate milk as well, love?” says the warm, older canteen lady.
“Yes, thanks.”
I hand Viv the milk, pretending not to notice her wide-eyed smile.
“You’re the best,” she whispers.
I don’t answer, and instead, place an earbud in one ear and bring out my iPod. The rest of my friends have come over. Cam’s taken her jumper from around her waist and is getting her to chase him.
“It’s 30 degrees. Why on earth do you have this?”
Although she responds in annoyance, I know she loves it. I put in my other earbud and turn up the volume.
II.
“Hey, so, about Viv.”
Cam comes up to me in the locker area. For some reason, as Year 12’s, we get our own building. Some private school bullshit about being in a transitional space between childhood and adulthood. However bogus it is, though, we’ll still shout down any lower year level trying to come in. Cam’s safe from her earshot.
“Yeah, what about her?”
“I know you guys are, like, super close.” He’s not looking me in the eye. Or, is it that I can’t look him in the eye?
“But are you guys like brother-sister close, or more than that?”
“Bro, I don’t care.” I say, quickly shutting my locker.
“Ok, yeah, cool.” He relaxes and changes the subject to our “absolute babe” of a Physics teacher.
III.
“It’s ‘ta-da-i-ma’, not ‘ta-ta-i-ma,’” she chastises.
“Are you sure?”
“Oh my god, shouldn’t you know? How long have you been watching hentai for?” I throw a pillow at her face. As usual, we’re doing homework at my house.
“Why don’t we spend more time at yours? Your Mum buys better snacks.”
“Ugh, you know what she’s like.”
It’s true, Viv’s house isn’t exactly the calmest household. Over the years, Ved and I have seen plate smashing and heard Viv’s mum crying in the bathroom. If Viv, at school, is like a hurricane, at home, she’s a ghost. Silently tip-toeing around a minefield. She knows that if she gets good grades, and doesn’t get into too much trouble, then her parents leave her be. She’s learnt from her two older brothers. Jeremy even moved out right after graduating high school and only comes home on special occasions.
“What time’s Ved home?”
“I dunno, he gets home pretty late these days.”
“Are you going to try for med also?”
“I dunno.”
Ved graduated a couple of years before and is now in med school. He actually wanted to go. We’re lucky our parents aren’t pressure cookers. I’m pretty good at school, but I’m not Ved good. So, they absolutely wouldn’t have that expectation of me. They’ve never really expected anything of me.
Viv’s crouched over her Japanese exercise book, biting her pen with a furrowed brow — her concentration face. I’m a bit jealous of Viv’s parents, sometimes. Sure, they’re super pushy, but they do that because they actually believe Viv can top her class and then go on to be some high-earning engineer or lawyer. Everyone’s always telling me I can just do whatever I want. Anything will do. Don’t worry about being a doctor like Ved if you don’t want to. Just take it easy. But then their attention is quickly diverted: their eyes focus on the main race, watching and waiting to see what people like Ved, or Viv, will do.
“You should drop Japanese if you want the right score for med then.”
“Shut up.”
“Mesh, are you up there?” Ved shouts, opening the front door.
“Veddddyyyyy!” Viv’s too old to run down the stairs to greet him like she used to, but there’s still a quickness to her step.
“Hey V! Can you guys come help me get the groceries out the car? Mesh! Get down here!”
I roll my eyes and put down my pen.
“Coming!”
Seeing her smile at him, I’m reminded, in a lot of ways, I’m not as good as Ved.
