My Best Friend Is a Goddess Read online

  I skim the next few paragraphs, wondering whether Dante’s feelings for Beatrice ever turned into something more meaningful. I make a face. ‘They both married someone else.’

  ‘Dante was promised in marriage to another, and so was Beatrice,’ Theo says. ‘It’s super-sad. After the bridge, Dante never sees her again — she dies when she’s only twenty-four. Apparently he didn’t recover from her death until he wrote The Divine Comedy and she became a key figure in the story.’

  ‘He’s kept her alive through the centuries despite only meeting her twice,’ I say. ‘Do you believe in love at first sight like that, or do you think it was all in Dante’s head?’

  Like at the party, I’m asking questions that would normally seem way too personal to ask someone I’ve known for such a short time. But maybe I want to know that I’m not alone; that I’m not the only one who builds beautiful constructions from next to no material.

  Theo pauses. ‘I believe you can meet someone and they can have a massive impact on you. That you can connect in a way that’s scarily strong …’

  I look at him, at the deep blue of his irises. They’re darker than I’ve ever seen them, and I wonder if he’s thinking of his ex.

  ‘I guess what you’re asking is whether that type of thing is love or lust. Whether you want their body, or you’re obsessed by their mind, or they tug at your heart.’ His voice goes quieter. ‘I guess it’s hard to separate one thing from another when it’s that intense, but you hope that if it happens it’s everything — heart, mind, body. What do you think? Do you believe in love at first sight?’

  This conversation is so intimate that I have to drop my gaze to the book on my lap. ‘I guess I do. The concept scares the life out of me though.’

  ‘How come?’

  I think of Mum. I think of my whole art-guy fantasy and how it’s responsible for bringing on feelings I can’t seem to shake, no matter how much guilt and logic and will I throw at them.

  ‘I don’t want to make a mistake.’

  ‘Em,’ Theo’s voice is super-quiet now, ‘I can tell you that beyond all the hurt, it’s worth it.’

  I don’t want to talk about getting it wrong, about hearts that hurt.

  I reach for my copy of The Inferno. ‘We should read the next canto.’

  Being my luck, it’s about the second circle, the place for those who sinned because of lust. I keep my voice steady as I read to Theo about how the noise in that circle is worse than a storm at sea, and how the sinners are blown about like starlings in the wildest wind you could ever imagine, helpless against the throws of the tempest.

  ‘I know it’s meant to be scary, but the description is so beautiful,’ he says. ‘I guess the punishment is symbolic, like with the other circles. On earth, these souls lost control in the storm of their desire and let their passion overrule their reason.’

  Let passion overrule reason … the words echo in my mind. That is exactly what I’m scared of.

  I force myself to focus on the next page. ‘You remember how I told you The Kiss was about the forbidden kiss between Francesca and Paulo? This is where Dante calls them over and asks them to tell their story.’ My heart is drumming in my throat because I know what’s coming. ‘Francesca and Paulo were attracted to each other for a long time, even though they knew they shouldn’t be. They always fought temptation, but one day they were reading together in Francesca’s room and they came across the story of Guinevere, the famous queen — you know, the one who was married to King Arthur but fell in love with Lancelot.’

  ‘Here,’ Theo says, and touches the page. ‘One day we read, to pass the time away, of Lancelot, of how he fell in love; alone we were and no suspicion near us … then he, who never from me shall separate, at once my lips all trembling kissed.’

  ‘It’s so lovely,’ I say.

  ‘You start to think they’re not at fault at all, huh?’ Theo lifts his head from the page to look at me.

  I nod. Wanting someone you shouldn’t, giving in to feeling — all of it was human. How did you fight it off, veer to what was right instead of wrong?

  ‘My lips, all trembling kissed,’ Theo repeats softly.

  I seem to feel his voice rather than hear it, because he’s so close to me, holding one half of the book. He’s still looking at me, and I think of Paulo and Francesca reading about kissing, and how we’re reading about them reading about Guinevere and Lancelot and their kiss, and the sound of my breath going in and out becomes as loud as the winds in Dante’s second circle of hell.

  I feel like Theo can hear the tempest too, because he raises one hand, like he’s going to touch his ear or mine — I don’t know which, as they’re so close to each other. I think of him kissing me, and at that moment I want to feel his lips on mine so badly it’s like my whole body is trying to lift itself up to fly.

  I turn my head away, frightened by my own feelings, and say loudly, ‘We read no more that day,’ drowning out the imaginary gale. I jump up to grab the DVD that Theo put on the TV cabinet. ‘I think we’ve studied hard enough for a Friday night — let’s reward ourselves with a movie.’

  Theo grabs his bag. ‘I brought chocolate.’

  ‘Do you think Dante had an opinion on how many chocolates would send you to circle three?’ I joke. ‘I’m hoping to avoid that fate.’

  ‘No chocolate, no forbidden kisses — Dante was a killjoy,’ Theo says as I sit back down on the couch.

  I realise that with him, I’ve nearly forgotten everything that’s been bothering me this week — the stupid comments, the guys making faces about me, how self-conscious I’ve started to feel about my nose. With Theo, the superficial can’t survive. Instead, it’s art and myths and everything else that makes my heart sing.

  The movie is more of the same: beautiful, but incredibly sad. When it ends, I have a lump in my throat.

  ‘His heaven is our heaven, right?’ Theo turns to me grinning as Robin Williams realises he’s standing amidst an oil painting, the colours all over his clothes, then his smile disappears. ‘Except I’ve made you sad instead of happy.’

  ‘I’m thinking of Ade. You know her mum was killed in an accident? Watching that movie, it makes me wonder how her mind’s not in hell twenty-four-seven.’

  ‘She’s an incredibly strong person,’ Theo says. ‘You can sense it from talking to her.’

  ‘I feel guilty she’s not here.’

  I am guilty she’s not here, and I’m the one sitting next to Theo.

  He thinks for a moment. ‘Why don’t we go cheer her up? I’ll call a taxi.’

  Ten minutes later, we’re standing on my verandah waiting for the cab.

  ‘Listen, Em, about the formal …’ Theo has a nervous expression on his face.

  Oh god, I might have a good imagination, but I definitely haven’t pictured this. Theo seems like the type of guy who would ask a girl straight up, not check in with her best friend first. But I guess he wants to ask Ade tonight and his nerves are kicking in.

  ‘Listen,’ I tell him, ‘you shouldn’t feel shy to ask.’

  He looks surprised. ‘You’re saving me the awkward intro?’ He grins. ‘I like it.’

  I smile back. I’m starting to get excited about our surprise-Adriana mission. ‘It’s a great idea to ask Ade tonight. Way nicer than doing it at school.’

  His surprised look becomes more surprised. ‘Em, I’m not asking about Ade, I’m asking about you. Are you going with someone?’

  I laugh, but he’s serious. Why is he asking me this? Is he wondering who he’ll be double-dating with if he takes Ade? Or maybe, like everyone else, he’s assuming I’m dateless and feels bad for me? I won’t be able to handle it if he says he has a friend I could go with.

  ‘Em?’

  I know he’ll see right through my ‘don’t feel sorry for me’ pretence, but I don’t have any other tactic to go with.

  ‘Me? God, no, I’m going solo. I’d only want to take a date if it was something romantic, you know, someone I was craz
y about, so I’d be able to look back and think That was the right decision. But there’s no-one at school who makes me feel that way, so I’m taking myself. At least that way I won’t have to worry about someone trying to put the moves on me, right?’

  I let out a squawky-sounding laugh, adding to the horrifically awkward speech I’ve just made. But hey, it’s the truth. Theo is the only guy I could be crazy about, and that’s a no-go zone.

  ‘Sure, I get it,’ he says, and looks as uncomfortable as I feel.

  Thankfully the taxi pulls into the yard, and I can hide my blazing cheeks in the darkness, staring out the window until we reach Ade’s house.

  Secret Thoughts of Adriana Andersson

  Sometimes I wonder if everything might have been different if Dylan and I hadn’t gone to that movie in town.

  That weekend was a heatwave and Dylan’s family’s air-conditioning was broken, so when he texted me on Saturday saying we should do a proper movie, I texted right back, not suspecting what might come from one simple yes.

  We were heading from the candy bar to cinema eight when we saw Tatiana and Lana hanging outside the ladies room. I started sweating straight away even though the air-con was on full blast. Please don’t let them see us, I thought.

  I swore Tatiana had a sensor when it came to me, because even though she was looking through her purse for something, she still saw us. She looked from me to Dylan and her nose wrinkled slightly, like seeing us together gave her a bad taste in her mouth.

  ‘Dylan,’ she called.

  I kept walking, hoping he wouldn’t hear her. But he put his hand on my upper arm to stop me going ahead like I desperately wanted to.

  Tatiana stared at his hand on my arm. ‘Hey,’ she said to Dylan, the disgusted expression melting into a flirtatious smile. ‘What are you doing here?’

  What are you doing here with her? was the question she was really asking.

  Dylan smiled back. ‘Escaping the Sahara desert.’

  Part of me screamed, Why are you smiling back?, but Dylan was friendly with everyone at school.

  ‘Gross, isn’t it?’ Tatiana said, giving me a look straight after so I knew she meant me. Lana suppressed a smirk.

  Tatiana gave Dylan a flirtatious look. ‘If you want to escape, you should come over and use my pool.’

  Maddy and Ally came out of the bathrooms.

  ‘Took long enough,’ Tatiana said to them. ‘Dylan, I’m for real about the invite. Add me on Facebook.’ She sashayed away in her short shorts, the Tens following behind.

  Dylan didn’t say anything about Tatiana’s invite. I wanted to say, You aren’t going to go over there, are you? but I was way too timid to ask. Maybe I was terrified he’d say yes. He knew how I felt about her, but the guys at school never bothered to get involved in the ‘drama’, as they called it, so maybe to him she didn’t seem that bad.

  Dylan made fun of the pre-preview ads, the low-budget ones about cosmetic skincare or local restaurants, and gradually my heart slowed its frenetic pace. And then an ad came on for a local jeweller. Don’t get caught out on the most important day of the year the voiceover urged, while red hearts rained down the screen.

  ‘Valentine’s Day.’ Dylan rolled his eyes.

  ‘You aren’t a fan?’

  I didn’t love Valentine’s Day, but I didn’t hate it either. I never expected anything as that way I’d never wind up disappointed. I did feel disappointed about Dylan’s reaction though.

  Idiot. You had some insane idea that maybe after the bracelet and that moment on the couch when he stared into your eyes, there was some infinitesimally small chance he might give you a card, weren’t you?

  ‘I’m not a fan of how predictable it is,’ Dylan said, taking a sip of his frozen Coke. ‘Why do I need to buy flowers or chocolates on that particular day? Why can’t I choose another day to go all-out? Plus, it’s always made out to be the guy’s responsibility.’ He turned to face me. ‘You know what would be awesome? A girl who surprises you with flowers on Valentine’s. That never happens.’

  ‘It never happens because girls are worried guys will freak out if they make the first move.’

  ‘I’m not “guys”, I’m a guy — we’re all different.’ Dylan poked my shoulder. ‘And maybe I admire a woman who puts herself out there like that.’

  I’d never be that girl. As cheesy as it sounded, I felt an actual pang in my chest.

  ‘You’re honestly saying you’d want a dozen red roses this Valentine’s Day?’ I asked.

  ‘Again, predictable. Why does it have to be a dozen, or why do they have to be red? Maybe it’s a single white rose.’ He shrugged. ‘I like that. A white-rose-holding girl on my doorstep on Valentine’s Day, bold enough to say “Dylan, I like you”.’ He shook his head. ‘Maybe it’s the movie buff in me wanting an unexpected plot twist.’

  ‘Maybe she’s out there,’ I said, crossing my fingers of my left hand where he couldn’t see them. Was it wrong to hope this super-confident girl didn’t make an appearance?

  Dylan’s eyes were warm as he looked at me, reminding me of that look when he was lying on top of me.

  ‘I hope she is,’ he said.

  Then the previews started and he turned back to watch the screen. The only upcoming feature playing in my mind was This Valentine’s Day.

  24

  ADRIANA

  After five days at home alone, I’m sick of my bed, I’m sick of the couch, I’m sick of daytime TV and all my box sets, and every book and magazine in the house. The only conversations I’ve had are by text, or the quick calls with Emily. Sure Dad’s home at night, but I’m so mad at him for going out with someone who isn’t Isobel, for taking the first steps towards a future that I don’t want for us, that I’m super-short with him whenever he does try to make conversation.

  Instagram becomes my salvation. When Chanel put the app on my phone, she said, ‘You know you’re going to get fully addicted, right?’ I assumed it would be another Ten thing that I didn’t get at all, and I avoided it after the birthday party when Lana posted those photos. But by Wednesday afternoon I’m hooked.

  ‘Get Instagram, please!’ I beg Em on Wednesday night. I keep seeing funny stuff I want to tag her in.

  ‘Ade, it’s a model fest on there.’

  ‘There’s all sorts of art too.’

  ‘By art, you mean butts in G-strings and thigh gaps?’

  I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me. ‘Come on! You have Snapchat!’

  ‘Snapchat is different,’ Em says. ‘It’s about having fun. Instagram takes itself too seriously. Every picture is like something out of a photo shoot.’

  ‘Em!’ I add an extra-strong pleading note to my voice.

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ she says, which means she’ll probably have an account by the weekend.

  The Tens have noticed I’m missing from school. Weirder still, they seem to care. Chanel posts a pic of me and her from the party and writes Get well soon, sexy! and then they’re all tagging me, asking what’s happened and when I’ll be back, and whether I’ve chosen my date for the formal, and when we’re all going shopping together for my dress. They use hashtags like #onpoint and #selfiegamestrong and #goals, and before I know it, I’m using them too.

  By Friday, I’m more interested in Instagram than anything else. Everything’s so pretty and styled, miles away from the dirty teacups lining my room. I’m wearing my ski hat to stay warm, and a pyjama top that doesn’t match the bottoms because Dad’s behind on the laundry. My socks don’t match either — one is orange and one is red — and both clash with my green and white PJ bottoms. And I need to wash my hair. I shampooed it mid-week, but by now it’s half in dreadlocks from so much tossing and turning on my pillow.

  So it feels like a horror-movie moment when the doorbell rings that night. I look at the time on my phone: 9.03 pm. It’s got to be a pizza delivery guy with the wrong address. I don’t have time to go change, so when the bell rings again I decide that Pizza Guy is goi
ng to have to deal with my bedraggled appearance.

  For such a big house, it’s a wonder there isn’t a peephole in the front door. I wouldn’t know if an axe-wielding maniac is patiently waiting outside.

  I open the door and see Dylan, which feels on par with an axe-wielding maniac.

  He doesn’t flinch at my appearance, but I’m horrified. I’ve spent all term trying to make him feel like he’s missed out, and here I am, the definition of gross.

  It’s your house, you’re allowed to wear pyjamas. Besides, you weren’t expecting to see anyone. Why does he think he has the right to keep showing up like this, out of the blue?

  I go to shut the door and prove a point, but Dylan holds it open.

  ‘Seriously?’ I say.

  He leans against the door and stares intently at me. ‘You haven’t been at school all week — I was worried.’

  I give him an ‘I don’t buy it’ look.

  ‘You don’t believe that I still care about you.’ His voice sounds sad.

  ‘Why would I?’

  He rubs his forehead like he’s got a headache. ‘Oh, Addy.’

  Don’t call me that, I want to say, but I don’t have the strength for it. ‘Addy’ is like my kryptonite. It makes me think of him tickling me, or slipping the bracelet over my wrist.

  The bracelet meant nothing.

  ‘I’m here to do what I should have before you left Jefferson.’ His voice is stronger now.

  ‘I don’t want an apology,’ I tell him. ‘Can’t anyone let me leave the past behind?’

  He shakes his head. ‘I don’t want to apologise — I want to ask you out. I want to ask you to the formal.’

  I start laughing, but not in a ‘that’s so funny’ way, more in a ‘Heath Ledger playing the Joker’ way, all unhinged.