Page 64 of Perfect on Paper

Am I Australian now?

You’re Australian when you instinctively yell “Alice? Who the fuck is Alice?” and “No way, get fucked, fuck off” at the right moments at the pub. Until then you’re a welcome visitor.

I am… so confused right now

Good

“Do you think we should be more involved in the school?” I asked Brooke after the final bell as we hovered in the halls one Tuesday.

Brooke tugged on her skirt—today’s was averyshort tan cord that showed off every slant of her thighs. She’d been really pushing the boundaries on what she could get away with within the uniform policy these last couple of weeks; I guessed she was planning on making Ray jealous through the power of raw sexuality. That’s not the advice I would’ve given her if she’d come to the locker for help, but she hadn’t. Not that I blamed her, after the advice she’d gotten last time.

“Really?” she said as we moved through the crowd of navy. “Moreinvolved? I’m already doing Q and Q Club and student council.”

“Yeah, no, I don’t mean formally,” I said. “Just, you know, around the place. Like, when’s the last time we went to a sporting thing?”

“Like a football game?”

“Yeah, exactly. Or, like, a swim meet.”

Brooke’s sharp eyes snapped onto me. “Is this a Brougham thing?”

“No!Not exactly. But when he was talking about swimming yesterday I realized we never go to any of that stuff.”

“Right,” Brooke said. “Because we hate it.”

“Do we?”

“Darcy!”

“I’m just saying, we’ve never talked about it. I didn’t think it was active avoidance.”

Brooke gave a melodic laugh, pulling me against the wall by one arm so we were removed from the crowd of students. Funny. Only a month ago this would’ve made my knees buckle and sent a shiver up my arm. Today, it only caused a mild stirring in my chest. It wasn’t nothing, but it wasn’t an overwhelming longing like it’d once been.

“Okay, I know you said it’s not a Brougham thing, but if itwere,I woulddie.”

“Die?” Of… jealousy? The stirring perked back up, hopefully.

“Yes.It’s beenforeversince you liked someone”—false, but I guessed she didn’t know that—“I feel like we never get to gush over you.”

The stirring returned to hibernation.

“I didn’t really see you with a guy,” Brooke went on, “but I guess a het relationship would have its pros. Not that I know why you’d opt for a guy when there are perfectly good women around, but I’m biased.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a het relationship, would it?” I asked. “Because I’m not straight.”

“No, obviously. That’s not what I meant. I just mean you wouldn’t have to deal with homophobic bullshit.”

“Yeah, I know what you meant.” But it still didn’t sit right.

By the lockers, Marie Leider, a girl from my history class, stood clutching her books to her chest and grinning, red-cheeked and wide-eyed, while Elijah Gekhtman waved his hands around in excitement. “… know there was someone else at school who’d evenheardof it,” he was saying. “What episode are you up to? I got to seventy-something last year, but then…”

“Anyway, do you need a lift home?” Brooke asked, and I dragged my eyes away from Marie as a warmth simmered around my heart. Seemed like Marie had found common ground with someone.

“Nah I’m good, I’ll just wait for Mom.”

Brooke widened her eyes at me with a knowing smile. “Okaaaay.”

“What? What was that?”

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