Chapter Eight

Meg slammed the door of her bedroom, tears pouring down her cheeks as Christine pounded on the door.

"Meg open up" her cousin shouted and Meg didn't reply, ignoring the apologetic cries as she sat down on her bed, facing the window.

"Urgh! Meg you're so stubborn!" Christine finally gave up and Meg listened to her storm away to her own room.

Looking around her room she wiped her tears away, confused at her sudden despair that afternoon. She and Christine fought regularly which always ended in one of them bringing a bowl of ice cream to the other, the vanilla becoming a symbol of surrender between them. So why had she reacted so badly that afternoon, why at the first shout over the remote control did Meg feel her eyes stinging and her throat clamming up with a repressed sob.

Her eyes fell upon the photo of her and Brendan, his arms around her as he nuzzled her cheek, blush spreading across her cheeks in embarrassment. It had been on their six month anniversary, one year ago when they were just fifteen years old. They had been on a group date, one of Meg's feeble attempts to get Christine and Brendan's best friend Adam together. They had gone to the city that night for a concert and Christine had brought her new digital camera, which she could not put away the whole night. She had snuck up on Meg and Brendan in the middle of a quiet moment and snapped the picture before Meg could say anything, determined to get her cousin back for the set up with Adam.

The photo had come out surprisingly well, the dark sky of the city becoming a fine backdrop for the photo, the stars glimmering as the streetlights shone upon the couple, lighting up Meg's blonde hair and blue eyes.

Looking upon Brendan's loving attractive face Meg felt the anger begin to boil within her. Standing up she rushed to the photo, ripping it to pieces as she sobbed.

How dare he...I loved him...

Throwing the crumpled pieces of the photo at her feet, Meg's hand came to her neck, the locket which Brendan had given her. It was silver and oval shaped with spindly engravings adorned across the locket. He had given it to her on their one year anniversary...

Meg tore the locket from her neck, breaking the chain and scraping her neck as she did so. But she didn't care; it had been nineteen fucking months one week ago and he gave her the best possible present; her walking in on him screwing some slut in their year after he punched out Christine.

How could he...did I ever know him?

She picked up an ornament he gave her for her sixteenth birthday that January; a porcelain ballerina en point. Even though he should've known she already had over seven ballerina figurines...

Meg hurled the ornament at the wall, the shards scattering across the room as she fell onto her bed, her chest heaving with shuddering sobs and passing anger.

The bastard...how could he do this to me...

That day, three mere days since they broke up, since he...well, that day news had travelled that Angelina and Brendan were now going out. Meg had seen them at the car park eating each other's faces, Angelina smirking at Meg when she saw her, Brendan turning to whisper something to Angelina who instantly giggled.

Feeling unwell, unable to cry anymore, Meg shivered as she changed into her pyjamas, stuck a post-it on her door saying that she wasn't coming to dinner and climbed into bed, piling the doonas on, unable to get warm.

Blinking away a new set of tears she settled down to sleep, dreading the next school day.

Christine sat on her bed, humming as she updated her logbook for drama. Listening to 'Our Little World' from Into the Woods on her iPod she began to sing the wistful airs of Rapunzel's.

That day had been terrible; the news of Brendan and Angelina's relationship had travelled fast and reached Meg in second period Visual Art while Christine had drama. Jammes told her at lunch that Meg had excused herself quietly to the bathrooms and not returned until third period.

The worst thing was that Meg refused to admit that she was hurt. The relationship had always seemed so trivial, that they were both so popular that it was more a relationship of convenience than love. Or more it had grown to be that way in the past year.

Christine remembered how one day at school in year nine, only three months into the relationship, how Brendan had come to her tearfully at recess, concerned that Meg hadn't answered any of his calls and that she was angry at him. Christine giggled and told him that Meg's phone had been confiscated a week ago and how he'd blushed in embarrassment.

Christine also remembered the day she had found Meg scrubbing her face in the bathroom before going out with Brendan to the movies. She was crying and makeup was spread all across the vanity as Christine calmed her down where Meg finally told her that she couldn't get her makeup and hair right, sobbing that why would Brendan like her, that he really didn't love her back.

This innocent puppy love had drifted away from them, out of their grasp in the past year. Christine could not pinpoint exactly where Brendan had changed, when Meg grew up but suddenly they were all grown up and the love had been lost along the way.

But it wasn't just that; as they grew up parties involved less movies, sleepovers and truth or dare and more drinking, sex and drugs. Brendan turned from a sweet guy who bought his girlfriend flowers because he could to a man whose confidence had turned to arrogance, whose sweetness had turned to flirtation which turned to womanising. Everything that had been good in him had morphed into the bad, like an egg going rotten. Christine knew he was still a good guy beneath but it was going to be a while until he emerged for a second chance.

In the process he had lost Meg.

Suddenly Christine wondered if it was Meg who changed as well; was she any different? She surely was no longer innocent or naive. But Meg had always been intelligent and in the past year had dumbed down to please the guys, turning from smart to a ditz, keeping her high marks to herself.

But was she...different?

Sighing Christine felt too tired to think about this and grabbed her phone which began to ring.

"Hello?" she asked and Raoul's voice faintly came across the line.

"Hey Christine" he said and she bit her lip, blushing at his voice.

"Hey..."

"What's up?" Raoul asked, hearing the confusion in her voice and Christine sighed wearily.

"Oh nothing...just worried about Meg" Christine said, staring at her pen as she began to spin it between her fingers.

"Yeah...is she coping?" He asked and she shrugged, suddenly remembering he couldn't see her she quickly replied, yawning tiredly.

"I guess...I really don't know-she went to bed as soon as we got home today, quite unlike her. We got into a screaming fight over the last doughnut and then over the remote control and she burst into tears and has been locked in her room ever since, she didn't even come to dinner," Christine said worriedly and Raoul sighed.

"Well, I hope she starts to find her feet again, poor thing, god I never trusted that Brendan" Raoul said and Christine agreed.

"Same here, well I did once but...that was a long time ago" she sighed and Raoul yawned.

"Oh well...I'm going to bed now, I'm so tired lately. I guess I'll see you at school then?" Raoul asked and Christine smiled.

"Yep, I love you"

"Love you too" then came the dial tone.

As Christine flipped her phone closed and placed it on her bedside table she began to slide down into her bed. Suddenly a thought occurred to her and she frowned.

Why did Raoul just call to check up on Meg?

But shaking her head at her silliness Christine turned off her light, sure she was being ridiculous.

Choir rehearsal the next morning was tedious. They were singing the choral arrangement for a medley of songs from 'Moulin Rouge' but there was a slight problem concerning the soloists. The choral arrangement had two soloists, Satine, a soprano and Christian, a tenor. Christine sang Satine's role but when the soloist tenor Peter Argarretta left the school the piece had fallen apart.

Christine opened her mouth to sing her solo and instead yawned, exhausted as their instructor Mr Fowsen looked at her in irritation.

"Come on Christine, please be awake when you come to choir" he barked her and she grumbled, beginning her solo.

After the first run through was finished everyone sat down, chatting and laughing as Carlotta glared at Christine and Mr Fowsen discussed something in irritation to her music teacher Mr Hawkinson who nodded as they turned to the choir.

"We still can't perform this piece without a tenor soloist and since Peter left for Italy we haven't found another one. So this is going on hiatus, please pull out your parts for Vivaldi's 'Gloria'" Mr Fowsen announced and a general noise of agreed exasperation came from the choir; they had sung Gloria twice at school occasions in the past year and were sick of it.

And Christine was especially put out; Gloria had no solos and she was a mere choir member again. Moulin Rouge had been her first ever solo in the choir and now it was taken away from her; another chance of gaining unique repertoire disappeared out the window.

'Gloria, Gloria,
Gloria, Gloria,
In-excel-cis-dae-o'

There was no need to practice anyway; they had perfected it in the past term and knew it off by heart, Latin and English.

Suddenly an idea came to Christine that she became fully awake, an idea that was so perfect it would never work; Erik was a tenor, and a fantastic one at that.

"Mr Hawkinson!" she exclaimed and jumped up, running to him as he took her to the side.

"What is it?" he asked and she grinned.

"I think I have an idea"