Ocean Pearl by J.C. Burke Page B

Sydney with
group two because you girls in group one all knew
each other.'
    Each time Jake said 'group one', I'd feel myself
flinch. I was so used to him calling us the Starfish
Sisters.
    'Then next week' – Jake put on his super-serious
face and voice – 'group two will join us. There's some
big talent in that group, Georgie, and that week's the
last chance for you to show us your stuff. After that, the
Australian Junior Female Surfing Team is announced
and that's final. Not negotiable.'
    'Kia and I know Steph and Jussie.' But it was too late
to tell Jake about the two girls from Bells Beach,
Victoria, who Kia and I said g'day to at surf contests.
We were stuck with Megan for this week and the next.
We three and her, like one happy family, otherwise
known as group one.
    Jake read my mind. 'Georgie, you have to move on,'
he said. 'The Starfish Sisters were fantastic. That camp
in January was one of the best ever – and I've been at
most of them too. But it's over. You're minus one
starfish and that means –'
    'Ace is a reserve.' I couldn't stop myself from
saying it.
    Jake looked at me as if to say, 'Who are you kidding?'
But he didn't know what it was like. Everything here –
the board shed, chatting with Jake, lying on our beds
last night laughing over nothing, Brian's bad cooking,
everything – reminded me of us, the Starfish Sisters,
and that hurt probably even more than I'd expected
it to.
    'Megan is just so, so . . . aggro. She doesn't get on
with anyone. She's even worse than last time. Much
worse!'
    'She's just pumped.'
    'I s'pose if I lived in Tasmania and next stop was
Antarctica . . .'
    'Georgie, that's not sounding like you. You're not
scared, are you?'
    'Is that why you think I set that booby trap around
Megan's bed – 'cause I'm threatened by her? Not
'cause I'm trying to get the reserve called up?'
    'Oh, Georgie.' At least that got Jake laughing. Even I
felt a bit better. 'No wonder your soccer team misses
you. You're loyal.'
    I was and I was proud of it too.
    So when I went back up to the bungalow and found
all those messages from Ace, I felt bad.
    I knew she'd be pacing around her bedroom back
home wondering why I hadn't called to give her my
version of what Jules thought of the photo album.
    Micki was lying on her bed writing a postcard.
    'Are you going to call Ace back?' she asked me. 'She's
at home.'
    'Did you speak to her?'
    'No.' Micki went back to the postcard writing. 'But it
said "Ace home" when it rang for the third time ten
minutes ago.'
    'Why didn't you answer it?'
    Micki shrugged.
    'I'll call her now,' I said. 'Do you want to say hi?'
    'No.'
    Okaaaay. Micki was being weird.
    The postcard was probably for her dad. That'd make
sense – her mood, that is.
    I hadn't got the chance to ask Kia about Micki
moving in with them. Although where on earth had
Ace got that info from? She'd never told me. She just
said suss it out.
    I sat on the edge of Micki's bed and squeezed her
little foot.
    'Are you writing to your dad?'
    'Yes.'
    'Do you . . . miss him?'
    'Not really.'
    'Are you okay, Micki?'
    'Why wouldn't I be?'

KIA
    At home, I had cut myself in the bathroom lots and lots
of times. Yet when I went in there to pee I never thought
about it. It wasn't like I'd be sitting on the loo remembering
every minute of every time.
    So why was it different in the Starfish Bungalow? I'd
only cut myself twice here, yet every time I sat on the
loo, like now, I'd have to catch my breath and tell my
mind to calm down. The pressure at camp hadn't even
started. So what was going on in my stupid head?
    Just make it to the next minute and you'll be okay. One minute at a time.
    Everything had gone so well. We'd got through
the whole weekend without anyone mentioning the
cutting. It almost came up when Ace made the
comment about Seahorse Girl and the wetsuits. I also
had to breathe and calm my mind down then 'cause I
was expecting the whole thing to explode in my face.
But it didn't.
    Georgie had kept her promise. I was