CHAPTER 2

Dad made me spend the weekend with him, just as he had threatened. He and Caitlin tried to smooth things over with me by making pancakes, but they were gluten-free and the syrup wasn’t real. ‘How about we go to the museum and see a band?’ Dad asked. It was obviously Caitlin’s idea.

‘No thanks.’ I couldn’t think of anything worse than hanging out with them.

Mum called me on Saturday afternoon. ‘Don’t worry Phoebe, I’ll take you to La Trattoria for dinner on Monday and you can order whatever you want.’ La Trattoria is my favourite restaurant in the world. The thought of their meaty pizzas dripping with cheese made my mouth water.

While Dad and Caitlin went out for a few hours, I moped around thinking about having to go to the weird Steiner school. Although I was dreading it, there was no way I was going there appearing like I had no style. That was one thing Mum would never let me do. She says that you can dress in the simplest clothes and still be stylish, as long as things are clean, pressed and coordinated. Mum also says that I could model if I wanted to. Being six foot, I’m tall enough. When I’ve made it in my basketball career, I might just be a model.

That night I watched a YouTube clip called ‘Three Summer Braid Hairstyles’ and practised doing all of them. I decided on wearing a ponytail with braids running along the sides.

Late Sunday afternoon, I was laying clothes out on my bed when Caitlin stuck her head through the door. ‘What are you doing, Phoebe?’

I spoke slowly as if Caitlin were a child. ‘I’m deciding … what … to … wear … tomorrow.’

‘Well if you want my advice,’ she said, ignoring the fact that I did not want her advice, ‘wear what you’re most comfortable in. I’m sure the kids will just be interested in getting to know you.’

God, I regretted ever dropping my guard and telling Caitlin that I wanted to study law. I blame it on the awesome sushi we were eating at the markets. I blame my bad grades on her. I was always top of the class until she came along. The next thing I knew, a brochure with the words Steiner, Determined, Balanced, Dynamic emblazoned on the cover appeared on our coffee table. By that time I was sick of hearing about lawyers. Every time I heard Dad and Mum speak to each other, one of them ended the conversation by threatening to speak to their lawyer. It’d been going on for nearly two years. Dad couldn’t communicate with Mum to save his life. It was a little ironic given that he teaches communication at Adelaide University – how to communicate in the workplace, how the media communicates, how to communicate with people of other cultures.

‘It’s been ages since you went to school, Caitlin,’ I answered. ‘Kids don’t want to know you. You have to fight to be noticed.’