Read Music From Standing Waves for Free Online Page B

there’s no emergency, feel free
to create one…”
    Oliver let out the obligatory whine as they
left, squealing until I let him play with my troll doll key ring. I
chased him around the carpet for a while, then he fell asleep on my
shoulder, a tiny, squishy fist pushed into my neck. I smiled at
him. He had Hayley’s blue eyes and curls. Andrew’s dark hair. A
slightly turned up nose from somewhere else on his family tree.
    I glanced at Hayley and Andrew’s wedding
photo, which sat framed on the lounge dresser. Hayley had only been
eighteen. I remembered the flood of gossip that had engulfed the
town when she had gotten engaged, most of it circulated by my
mother.
    “He’s only in it for the money,” she said.
“Can’t make a living with his music, so he’s marrying the rich
girlfriend...”
    I had asked in my first violin lesson: “Can
you not make a living with music so you married your rich
girlfriend?”
    Andrew had been drinking coffee and had spat
it back into the mug.
    Hayley’s parents had invited the whole town
to the wedding.
    “Ludicrous,” said Sarah, watching Nick
stretch his feet over the end of the couch and slurp from a can of
beer. “She’s only Nicky’s age. How could anyone that young possibly
know real love?”
    But I secretly hoped that when I was eighteen
I’d have the same exciting romance as Hayley.
    “Love at first sight,” she told me one day.
“We were only together for two months before he asked me to marry
him. We were at the beach in the middle of the night…”
    Sometimes, I wanted to be Hayley so much it
hurt.
     
    A tourist got stung by a box jelly that had
broken through the stinger net and my mum decided swimming at the
beach was too dangerous.
    “Can we still go in the rock pool?” I asked.
“There’s no jellyfish in there.”
    “They can get in the rock pool just as
easily,” said Sarah. “As well as Heaven only knows what other kinds
of animals…”
    “But Mum-”
    “Abigail, stop arguing. If you want to go
swimming, you can go to the swim centre.”
    The swim centre was a shallow
twenty-five-metre pool at the back of the lifesaving club that no
one ever used unless a jelly got through the stinger net. Justin
and I sprawled across foam kickboards and watched a lifeguard with
bleached blonde hair strut up and down the pool deck. Rachel, who
had seen the poor bastard froth at the mouth all over the pier, sat
cross-legged on the edge of the pool, vowing never to swim
again.
    “This sucks,” said Justin. He dived under the
surface and grabbed me around the ankle. I kicked him off. He
resurfaced and shook the water from his hair like a dog. “Nick’s at
the beach, you know.”
    I nodded. Nick never listened to Mum.
Whenever she tried to yell at him, he would tell her to piss off,
then jump in his car and go for a drive. It was so easy for him, I
used to think. Easy for him to just disappear for a while. Not as
simple for me, or for Tim, who was only ten. We had to stay behind
and listen to Sarah get angrier each time Nick sped off down the
highway. Angrier with us as though it was somehow our fault. I
hated Nick’s drives.
    “Well I think your mum is right,” Rachel
piped up. “If you went to the beach you could die. Die like that
German guy.”
    “That girl’s got massive tits,” said Justin,
pointing to the lifeguard. “When are you going to get tits like
that, Abby?”
    I narrowed my eyes and slithered my shoulders
under the water, self-conscious of the flat chest beneath my
bathers.
    “Come on,” said Justin. “Let’s go to the
beach. This is completely lame.”
    “I can’t. It’s not worth the trouble.”
    “Your mum’s such a tight-arse,” he said. “You
should stand up to her more like Nick does.”
    I sighed. “Yeah. Well hopefully I’ll get out
of here soon. Then I won’t have to deal with her anymore.”
    “Abby!” cried Rachel. “You’re not actually
thinking about what that violin guy wants you to do are