Page 3 of Nothing Without You

Another boy appeared behind Chris, his glare showing that he was not happy. ‘Give us the ball back.’ This boy’s name was Adam and he was taller than Chris.

‘You gotta pay me,’ Layla said.

‘With what?’ Adam asked. ‘We’ve got no money.’

‘You have to kiss me then,’ Layla said.

Evie’s face must have mirrored the horror she felt at Layla’s suggestion, and she blinked hard when Chris replied, ‘I’m not kissing anyone. Now give the ball back.’

Layla clutched her stomach tighter. ‘No. Someone has to kiss me.’

By now Evie had heard enough. ‘Layla! Give them the ball back.’

No one spoke. It's a standoff, Evie thought. Suddenly, Adam bent down and kissed Layla on the cheek, wrestling the ball from her. She fell backwards laughing, kicking her legs in the air as the two boys ran off.

‘My first kiss!’ she shrieked. ‘And with Adam Pearson! A year seven boy! Wait ’til I tell my sisters!’

Chapter Three

Layla had always been braver and more adventurous than Evie. By the time they reached the end of year seven, her best friend had kissed more boys than Evie could count. The kissing always took place where no one would see; behind the groundsman’s shed near the oval, under the stairs in the double-storey year seven block, and even behind a tree on their way to school.

‘You just need to ask one of them to kiss you,’ Layla told Evie. ‘You’re missing out.’

She was horrified. ‘No way. My dad said not to let any boys kiss me. They’re only ever after one thing, and to stay away from them.’

‘He’s just telling you that because he doesn’t want you to have fun.’

The two girls sat away from prying eyes in their usual hideout, an old shed near the back fence of Evie’s property. It was musty and dim inside, and every so often a mouse scurried out from under the timber orange crates stored on the shelves. The tiny marsupial’s scampering movements and twitching nose sent the girls shrieking and jumping up onto the nearest chair. They persisted in using the shed though, as it was their own space, where no one bothered or nagged them about picking up their mess.

Today, Evie brought a few books her mother had recently given her. One was called Guide Through Teen Years – A Reliable Sex Education Booklet for Girls 12-14.

‘That’s us,’ Layla said. The two girls giggled as they looked at the illustrations. Layla read some of the words out loud, thrusting her hips back and forth as she imitated the descriptions in the book.

‘Oh, my goodness,’ Evie whispered. ‘Look at these pictures of a rooster and a hen doing it.’ She turned the pages, her eyes wide. ‘Where are the birds and the bees?’

Layla grabbed the book from her. ‘You idiot. That’s just what grownups say to us kids. It’s not real. Here, look at this one: Mothercraft. Check out the girl on the front cover. She’s so dressed up, like she’s going to church.’

Adorning the front was a black and white photo of an attractive young woman, beautifully dressed and wearing oven mittens, taking a cake out of the oven.

‘This book is so old fashioned,’ Layla said as she grabbed it off Evie and opened it at what she had decided was her favourite page. As she read the words, she changed her voice to sound like a very posh adult. ‘A young woman should ensure that her husband’s dinner is ready for him each evening.’ She paused and wiggled her chest, pretending to have large breasts, and then held her hand out as if she were holding a cigarette. Placing the pretend cigarette into her mouth, she drew back, pursing her lips to blow the invisible smoke into the air as she continued. ‘The good wife should ensure that she always greets her husband at the door when he returns from work and that she is looking her best. No man wants to come home to a wife who doesn’t look good.’ She rolled her eyes before closing them, fluttering her eyelashes when she eventually opened them again.

‘Stop being so dramatic,’ Evie said. ‘Hurry up, I want to know what happens next. Is there any sex stuff in there?’

‘Not likely. Listen to this. Always be punctual with dinners cooked and your husband’s slippers warmed by the fire or heater. When you open the door to greet him after his hard day at work, take his coat and help him remove his shoes, slipping his feet straight into his warm slippers.’

Layla put her finger down her throat and pretended to vomit. ‘No way. This is bullshit.’

Evie peered around, checking through the window to make sure no adults were making their way towards the shed. ‘Shh, don’t swear. You’ll get us in trouble.’

‘I’m not going to pander to any boy. I’m an equal and no one will tell me what to do,’ Layla said as she turned the page. ‘We think differently in my house, because we’re all girls. We talk a lot about the different paths our lives might take. We’re going to make our own choices.’

‘Do you miss your dad?’ Evie asked, a sad tone in her voice.

‘No. I don’t. Mum does though. I was only two when he died, so I don’t remember him. It was because of the war. He had things wrong with him from injuries he got in New Guinea. Mum said so. She’s been our mum and dad all in one. She says women can do anything if they put their minds to it.’ Evie stuffed the books back in her bag. ‘Does your dad boss your mum around?’

‘No way,’ Evie said, as she took the book back from her friend and tried to straighten the cover where Layla had bent it. ‘Dad’s the softie in our family.’ She thought hard. ‘They do their own thing. Dad lets Mum do what she wants and Mum’s the same, although she does get cranky when Dad goes to Sydney for work so much.’

‘Sounds like it’s fair in your house.’ Layla sighed and ran her hands over her legs. ‘Look at them. Beautiful and smooth.’

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