A Reason to Exist

Chapter 21

At lunchtime, Zuri and I sat by the netball court and ate our lunch. I pulled my salad sandwich out of the tin lunchbox, with baked sweet potato slices as a substitute for bread. Mum is paranoid about plastics. I'd had the tin lunchbox since primary school. Everything I ate from it had a slight metallic taste. I wanted to throw the tin lunchbox against a brick wall. How come everyone else can have a plastic lunchbox and eat white bread from Baker's Delight and they're not all dropping like flies?

'The party should be fun,' Zuri said.

'Oh yeah.' I'd forgotten about the party. The last thing I felt like doing was partying. I felt worn out and dragged down by the prospect of fun. In science class, Mrs Miller asked me a question about photosynthesis and my heart started beating so fast I thought I was about to have another panic attack. What if it hadn't been a one off thing? What if it was the start of something that's going to happen all the time? Anything could be a trigger: a question about photosynthesis, a scene in a movie, crossing the road, a party. Danger is everywhere.

We ate our lunch slowly and watched some year seven girls playing basketball on the netball court. I admired their enthusiasm – they still had the energy of primary school and hadn't developed the full self-consciousness of high school as yet. I wondered if Tate still plays tiggy in grade five at Elwood Primary. I should look out for my little brother more. Even if there's no elder to guide me, I should be that person for him.

'You okay?' Zuri asked. 'Are you still shaken after yesterday?'

'It was pretty horrific,' I said. 'I hope it doesn't happen again.'

'Bloody hell. I hope it doesn't happen again,' she said. 'But you have to put that out of your mind. Mum said the fear of it happening can become more debilitating for people than it actually happening.'

'You spoke to your mum about this?'

'Of course,' she said, shrugging her shoulders. 'I hope you don't mind. It's no secret or nothing is it?'

'No, no, of course, that's fine.' I was envious that she could talk to her mum about these things and it didn't turn into a lecture or a grand medical dilemma to be solved by a natural therapist. I'd be dragged off to see a homeopath, a herbalist or acupuncturist. She'd remove another food group from my meals. I'd be forced to take weekly salt baths and infrared saunas. My mother would start compiling an armoury of health solutions, except the one real remedy I needed - having a mother I could talk to.

'How was your walk home with Tucker?' Zuri winked at me.

'Oh, it was fine, silent mostly. I wasn't in any mood for much. He's coming over tonight to check on me.'

'How sweet,' Zuri said. 'He's like totally the sweetest isn't he? You two look so cute together.'

It reminded me of that silly comment he made: 'At least we're still cute.' A refuelled optimism revisited me.

'You have to tell me everything,' Zuri said. 'Like everything okay?'

'Of course,' I said. I picked at the micro herbs in my sweet potato sandwich: alfalfa sprouts and bean shoots, grown from seed on our kitchen windowsill. Zuri looked at my lunch.

'You want this packet of chips?' she asked, gesturing at a packet of potato chips.

'Really? You sure?'

'Of course.'

'Share?'

'No, you have them. I'm full.' She handed me her packet of chips and I smiled gratefully.

'You're my best friend ever. Thank you.'

She put her arm around me and rested her head on my shoulder.