𝙾𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝙴𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛

Taking a break from studying sport theory, I hold my whale mug's handle - or rather the tail of the whale - and bring the polished ceramic to my lips, taking a sip of the water inside. You know it's a hot day when you can feel the cool water voyaging down your oesophagus as though it's the descending rockface of a starving waterfall. Above my desk, on the wall, a tacked-on heart shape of Instax pictures. Billie's family were kind enough to buy me a FujiFilm Instax for my last birthday. The photos consist of Billie and I, scenery from outings with Billie, and pictures Billie has taken of me. Billie even took a picture of me running one Saturday at the domestic competition and I like it because I'm blurry. I can tell myself momentarily that I'm really much faster. I think the lone pot plant my desk hosts has stunted in growth. It was Billie's gift to me for my last birthday, a rounded grey-blue pot hosting an urchin-looking cactus. Billie had introduced this appearance-aggressive plant as my "plant baby" and referred to me as "a new mum, a plant mum". I'd pointed out that if it was my baby, I would have died during childbirth due to the evident quantity of spikes. Billie said she'd love to have children, couldn't wait. I said I couldn't weigh over 70 kilos. Soon after, I adopted a few succulents, planted in shells on my window sill. Last year, when my mum and I arrived at the licensing centre, I found out that one of my identification documents wasn't valid. Meaning, I only had four out of five documents to present for my learner's permit. As soon as Mum and I were outside of the building, Mum was yelling at me. "I regret having you!" she'd shouted. For the five minutes home, she continued to shout at me. Then more whilst we were in the house and driving back to the licensing centre. She didn't stop until we were back inside the centre, now with everyone staring at me. By this time, I was sobbing. And the depressive thoughts had well and truly stationed themselves in my head. The perplexed lady took my learner's permit photo with tears running down my face. The next day, Mum gave me a pot of three succulents as a present for getting my learners permit — apparently. I wonder whether they were a sorry gift? I got the shells the plants sit in at the general store in Yallingup. I can't wait to go back there for Billie and Benji's camping trip!

Ring, ring. Ring, ring.

A familiar name is on the screen of my phone. I swipe my device off my desk and place it to my ear, "Hey Billie —"

"Hello, Miss Overachiever. Where you at?"

"At home, studying."

"Study no more, get down to the beach. Awards are about to go down!"

"Okay," I say to her before hanging up. I don't remind Billie that it'll take me a half hour walk to get down there. She initially insisted her mum pick me up from my place and take us down but I said to Billie that I wanted to utilise my time studying before the awards. The wind ups are awkward anyway. Last year, Billie was the one who was late - she had a physio appointment. And so, I sat in the dunes watching the adults commune under a cabana, the littlies run after one another on the sand, and the kids my age jump off the pontoon out in the ocean. I always end up standing apart. How do I engage when I don't know what to say? So given there are no walls at these windups, I suppose I'm a duneflower.

༄ ❀ ༄

The littlies are again running after one another on the grass as parents and coaches pack up the area. Spotting Stewart slapping together a foldout table, I approach.

"Hi," I say to my coach.

"Hello, where were you?" Stewart asks with a jocular assertion.

"Studying," I reply, my hands meeting in front of me as I pull back a finger, then a second.