‘I might go to Cooper’s for a while.’
‘Okay.’ Was he making it up, or did his dad seem sympathetic? ‘The girls still upstairs, are they?’
‘Yep.’
‘I’ll go and have a word.’
A short time later he’d heard feet on the stairwell. He wasn’t planning to get up, but Maddie appeared in the doorway, with Jacinta close behind.
‘We’re going to Jax’s house for a while,’ she’d said to him.
‘Right.’ He had kept his eyes fixed on the telly.
Maddie had paused, then he saw her moving away out of the corner of his eye.
‘See you later, Romeo,’ came Jacinta’s voice from the doorway.
He had heard Maddie hiss ‘Jax,’ and the high cackle of Jacinta’s laughter. He had a feeling she knew about the kiss in the forest. He also suspected that it had not been described to her in the way he’d experienced it. He wondered if Maddie had been kind or cruel. Asking himself the question made him realise how far apart he and Maddie had grown. He no longer felt good about that kiss.
At Cooper’s house he had tried to distract himself from the trauma of the afternoon, but it hadn’t worked. Cooper had been determined to keep his music loud enough to annoy the rest of his family, and Zac could barely think, let alone talk. They’d sat side by side for hours in Cooper’s room, staring at the same screen, two wired pilots on a relentless succession of search-and-destroy missions. Music and adrenalin made him dizzy and more dangerous. He tried to lose himself in the action of the game, honing his reflexes, his fingers and thumbs dancing against the plastic controls while he counted his kills. He usually spared the women, but today if they were tall and beautiful he immediately took them down.
When his phone had vibrated in his pocket he had struggled out of his delirium, but he could tell from his mum’s text that something was wrong. He had switched the music down and held the phone to his ear as he returned the call. As he waited he watched the screen, saw Cooper’s crew swarming towards his men, the splatters of blood as they were swiftly despatched without mercy.
He had been relieved to get out of there, but now he wishes he could skulk away again. He can’t make out the words downstairs but the fretful tones are clear enough. Moments later his mother yells, ‘Georgia, come back here!’ and Georgia shouts back ‘Just stay out of my life!’ accompanied by the sound of angry footsteps on the stairs, after which her door is slammed hard enough to make his posters shudder.
He puts his headphones on and thinks about which game he might play. He’s not sure any of them will distract him, but it has to be worth a try.
His phone buzzes. It’s a text from Maddie. I’m so sorry, Zac.
He frowns. Does she mean the kiss? Her attitude after it? Or has she realised that she turns into a bitch when she’s with Jacinta?
What do you mean? he keys in.
You haven’t seen Facebook?
No.
You better look. It was Jacinta. I didn’t realise she would share it. I’m truly sorry.
He has a terrible feeling he knows what has happened. He logs in to his Facebook page, scans through the news items, desperately hoping that he is wrong. He has spent all day trying to protect his sister, despite his horror at what that photo might mean. But if his fears are realised, he has just let her down in the worst way possible.
As the screen flashes in front of him, downstairs his mother and father begin to fire volleys of anger at one another. Each phrase is a burst of fireworks – the grand finale of a day he will never forget. Their voices get louder, there’s explosion after explosion as he scrolls down the screen.
And there it is. Georgia’s picture, shared for the world to see. With comment after comment already.
Georgia’s secret life exposed. Potentially in ruins.
And everyone is laughing.
24
GEORGIA
The omens are there when she wakes up: the fog, the drizzle, the dark grey light masquerading as day. It’s been a miserable, restless night – she has struggled to sleep but hasn’t dared to leave her room in case her mother accosted her again.
And now her phone is ringing.
She grabs it, the screen showing that it isn’t yet seven. Sophia’s name is glowing, and those familiar smooth white letters make her nervous. Yet she doesn’t hesitate to pick up.
‘Georgia, it’s me!’
The timbre of her cousin’s voice is an instant comfort. Sophia sounds so like Sophia that for a moment Georgia imagines her friend ringing from home, sitting up at the breakfast bar, the fingers of her free hand playing with an earring while her parents rush around each other in the kitchen, doing the usual morning do-si-do.