Being Kalli(8)

Maybe it’s ‘cause Scout is drunk but she takes my words the wrong way.

“Aw, Kalli. Maybe one day. Maybe one day you’ll allow him to take you to his room alone.”

No, that’s the thing; that will never happen. With anyone.

The air is getting hotter between us as we huddle together, breathing heavily. It’s a mix of alcohol from our drinks during the party coupled with the stuffy feeling that puts me on edge.

“It was a one off.”

“It might be nice to see where this goes. You’re lucky to have so many people wanting you, free to be with whoever.”

I shake my head, what?

“Some religions and societies aren’t so accepting. But your mum, Nate and I—we just want you to be happy.”

“Have ‘fun’, you mean,” I say, quoting Mum. “Anyway, tell me more about this chick.”

Scout tells me her name, Steph, what she’s studying, and some general interests, but within no time she’s dead to the world.

Since she’s out, I feel lonely again. Mum still isn’t back, and the only things that will calm me right now are Seth and Tristan. I need to hold them.

In the end I peel Tristan from under the sheets, carry him over to Seth’s single bed and sleep head to toe with them, me curled up at the bottom, so hopefully they still have enough room.

For as much as I struggle sleeping after drinking and parties, tonight is like every other when I come to sleep here.

I’m out before I have to start trying to sleep.



• • •



I am awoken by a crash and a subsequent, “Oh, crappity.”

Eyes sprung open, I take in my surroundings, wedged between the twins. I slide down until I can climb over Seth and tiptoe out unnoticed. By the time I reach the living area, she’s still palm to wall with jelly legs and cackling every time she stumbles.

“Mary-friggin-Jane. You arrive.”

“What?” Her eyes scan the carpet under her feet in sweeping motions until she reaches my face. “Huh? Oh, I’m Mary Jane. Right.”

Mum’s name is Mary. Just Mary. But when you’re as high as a kite as often as she is, Mary Jane tends to roll off the tongue naturally. Since Mum’s all about fun, she thinks it’s hilarious. The early hours of this morning are no different.

I go through the usual.

“How much did you have?”

“A few. Many. Whatever, Kalli.”

“Alcohol, weed, ecstasy …” She gets the point.

“Oh, shh.”

“Time?”

She stumbles on that one. “Early?”

“Or late,” I mumble to myself, but she doesn’t hear. I check the wall clock that’s opposite her, the one she’s forgotten about which answers all my questions. “It’s 5.55 am.”

“’Kay.”

“Who were you with?”

“Betsy. Kalli …” She finds a chair at the kitchen table, sits and lazily wipes her flyaway hairs from her face. “… you’re nineteen.”

“You’re thirty-seven,” I counter.

“You should be the one coming home at this time.”

I lay my palms on the table in front of her, lean down and say, “Yet you’re the stumbling mess doing exactly that.”

“You’re no fun.”

“You’re a fucking mess, Mary Jane.”

At that I feel done. We get nowhere with this banter. As soon as I stalk off to the kitchen to grab some painkillers I regret not calling her “Mum” because she doesn’t find that fun at all, and if there’s one thing Mary Perkins needs it’s an OD of boring and that still won’t tame her.

I down two pills and walk to the hall, hearing Mum slur, “Still love you, Kalli girl.”

I detour to my bedroom, land on my bed with my feet under my ass and slam my fists into the cover, harder and harder until I hear the springs creaking. By this stage a wave of satisfaction, which closely resembles calm, relaxes me and I trust myself to be able to contain myself enough. Bonus, Scout is passed out and doesn’t wake.

I hate Mum saying how much she loves me when she’s high or drunk because she never tells the twins or I when she’s sober, and that breaks my heart.

I get up and check on the twins, and discover they’re still sleeping. I press my lips to both of their foreheads and the feel of that tender skin warms my heart as much as it hurts. I wonder why our mum won’t just damn care.

I pop my head back into the kitchen and see her slumped over the table, her arm curled around her head.

“Mum,” I call. No response. “Mum!” I shout-whisper.

“Mmm?” She looks around for the voice until she places me.

“Go to bed and sleep there.”