3"Heeeeeyyyyyy bbbaaabbbby!" I screech to the music as I twirl around my room. My hair is out and is swishing all around my shoulders.
"Mmmmmm, suuuuggggaaaarr!"
"Shut up!" roars Liam from next door. I give an exceptionally enthusiastic yowl and turn the radio down.
I'm so happy. You know that kind of happy where you're so glad about life you get a headache? Yeah probably not.
Anyway, so now I'm dancing around my room gathering beauty products. I'm gonna have a luxury spa.
I make frequent trips to the bathroom emptying stuff in there. Face masks, foot masks, hair conditioners, blonde enhancers, french manicure sets, bath bombs, hair removal cream, waxing strips … EVERYTHING.
I pull out my giant fluffy towel from the linen closet. Go back to my room and grab my exfoliating gloves. As I leave, I leave the door wide open. Mum hates me doing this.
I march over to Liam's room.
"Liam," I announce. "I am going to have a bath."
Silence.
"And?"
"I'm just letting you know that the main bathroom will be locked for an hour."
"I don't care."
I march away. I set up a radio in the bathroom and sway out of time with the beat.
Watching bath bombs fizzle is so cool. They bubble and fizz and sink and bob around, gently turning the water a different colour. By the time mine has melted, the whole spa bath is purple.
The water level rises depressingly as I climb into the water.
Lavender washes over me and I relax.
About half an hour later I decide it's time to start beautifying myself.
As I'm running blonde stuff through my hair I'm thinking about my older sister Robyn. Having Patrick made such an impression on her life. She lost all her choices and the respect from her mother. Patrick is gorgeous, but is still a handful. I know for a fact that Robyn wouldn't give Patrick away for anything in the world. Including freedom. But I also know that she still wishes she could have had him later in life. When she was secure.
As I'm shaving my legs, I'm thinking about the girl Liam got pregnant. Or might have gotten pregnant. The way Liam spoke about it. She seemed delighted to be having his child. Liam is just the opposite. He's devastated. But the thing is, his mates, well, you kind of think they would be kind of distant. But they're not. They've totally rallied around him.
When anyone asks about it, they all block him or her out. I know this sounds corny, but it's almost like they are protecting him.
There is a giant slam from outside the bathroom.
Washing my face mask off, my thoughts head towards tonight. Tonight is Agnes's party.
She always throws good ones. Great music and great guys! Because she's like an artistic freak, she meets all these 'soulful' music and art wannabes. They're usually great fun to be around.
Looking into the mirror above the sink I smile at myself. I love being happy. It just makes you look beautiful, even if you're actually just ordinary with extraordinary hair.
I wrap my big fluffy towel around me and sail out of the bathroom. Liam whistles as I swish past his room and laughs.
The door to my room is closed. That was the slam. My mother is home. I deflate a little. Dumping all my cosmetics on my bed I sit on my bay window. Wrapped in a towel I know this poses an interesting perspective for the people on the street. Only if they actually looked up.
There is a soft bump on my door and Patrick waltzes in. Never mind I'm nearly naked he flops onto my bed and grins at me.
I cheesy-smile back.
"Mum says you're being beautiful," his voice is soft and gratey. "You haven't got very far, have ya?"
I gasp. Drawing myself up to my full height, which makes me look like a lighthouse, I romp over to him.
"No Patrick," I announce "This is it. I am going to a party like this." He laughs and squirts some juice at me.
I decide ignore his cuteness and head to my wardrobe. I pull out my silky morning coat and drape it on. Raymond gave me this last year for my birthday. It's really expensive and I think that's why he gave it to me. He loves to prove his lawyerness.
I then pull out about six different dresses and Pat eliminates two.
"What?" I screech as he shakes his head at a purple one which my favourite. "That's my favourite!"
"You weared it last time I was here."
"I wore it."
"See? I told you."
I throw a pillow at him. He juices it.
"Liam!" I yell. I'm being the bratty sister now.
"What?" He shouts back.
"Help me!"
He rushes in.
"I can't find a dress," I finish lamely. But I know this will work. Because Liam loves to help pick out clothes for me. I don't know why. He just loves bossing me around.
Laughing he deliberately sits on Pat who squeals and burrows into Liam's armpit.
"Red, try red,"
Red?! I never ever wear red. It's a thing I have being blonde. Red a no-no.
"Ok," I say.
I un-jam a red thing from the side of my closet. Yuck. I shake it out. Yum! I never even knew I had this!
It's a low front-cut wine red spaghetti-strap dress that stops at my knees. Woohoo! Let's show some leg!
I slip it on and twirl around. The bottom floats after me, which is perfect for dancing.
I glance in the mirror. Apart from the head-and-hair-still-in-towel thing, it looks good.
"Thankyou Liam," I chant.
"Yeah and make your tits…"
"Make your boobies bigger!" announces Pat who has immerged from the depths of Liam's armpit.
I blush.
"Breasth maketh the woman…th" laughs Liam as he scoops up Pat by his legs and swings him screaming from the room.
I grab a lacy black push-up bra from my pantie-drawer and re-arrange my chest.
About twenty minutes later my hair is perfect, my skin is glowing and my breasts are satisfactory.
I sashay out into the kitchen where I can hear Robyn lecturing Liam about manhandling Patrick.
"Ta-da!" I sing as I enter.
I twirl and curtesy. Liam claps and says his genius has satisfied another customer and Robyn races after Pat who is heading towards me with Nutella-ed hands outstretched. I dodge him and sail over to the fridge for some cold water.
"Wearing that increases your poundage Lycra." Announces a coy voice from the couch near the TV. I ignore my mum and pull out my cold drink bottle.
"Are you listening to me?"
"No," I promptly say and pour water into my mouth, careful not to smudge my lippy.
Robyn leaves and Liam reads HOME magazine upside down.
Mum gets up and sails over to the kitchen bench.
"It gives you excess fat, I can see it."
Her perfectly manicured hand grazes the bench top.
"Ah well," I say and put a box of tic-tacs into my purse.
"Get changed,"
"No!," I stare at her.
"Lycra, you look appalling!,"
"Mother, I do not care for what you think,"
Her eyebrows raise and she breaths in. She stands up straight.
"Don't you dare speak to me like that," Her voice is razor sharp and slices through the air.
"I do not look fat. Do I Liam?" HOME magazine is lowered and he says;
"No Lyk, you look very sexy." He winks at my mother. "Don't you think so Mum?"
"No!," she's shouting now. "She looks terrible. She-she looks like Robyn!"
Silence.
"Just because I don't look like a fat fifteen-year old version of you doesn't mean …"
Liam coughs really loudly. Mum drops her wrist to the bench and the thunk that sounds shows her bracelet swaying unsteadily.
Gods. I have really done it now. Mentioning Mum's weight problem is a really bad idea. Joclyn Clements, was once an overweight school-girl who struggled through years of bullying about her weight. The stick thin woman standing in front of me is a product of strict dieting and weight watching. She can put Jenny Craig out of business.
Mentioning 'fat-mum' will earn you groundings, snide comments and a whole truckfull of punishments. Including Dad.
"Get changed," she hisses.
"Go to hell" I smile sweetly and feel like kicking her legs off.
I sweep out of the room and slam the door of the apartment after me.
In the lift I spray my perfume on and twirl around in front of the mirrored walls. I'd arranged to meet Enid at the corner and then we'd either walk or catch a cab to Agnes's place.
I can see her in the distance. Her dress is a pale green one with a high pink belt. It looks expensive and I can bet my brother's car it is. I walk up and we exchange compliments. Yep, I was right, this ones a purse breaker.
"Mum made sure I went designer," says Enid in a voice that is clipped with sarcasm. Enid, although is the happiest person on Earth, has a mother that can suck the happiness out of a wedding.
"I wanted to wear Ag's favourite skirt and top," Enid says flatly, and I can tell she's argued about this for a while. "But Mother said that I looked atrocious and decided I would get changed."
I gulped.
"Me too," I start to stroll on. The pavement yawns ahead of me. I'm relieved when I hear Enid calling a cab.
"Huh?" She catches up with me.
"Mum reckoned I looked fat."
Enid laughs.
"You? Fat?"
"Yeah well, I said the 'fat mum' line."
"Oh," Silence.
The drive to Ag's is silent and I can almost hear Enid's brain whiring with sad thoughts for me. My Mum's 'fat' past is legendary.