Read Online Sydney's Song by Ia Uaro - Free Book Online Page A

wouldn’t think me and Ettoré were an item.
    Ettoré embarrassed me further by whisking me off to an up-class harbour-side restaurant. My friends’ eyes bored a hole in my back. I kept remembering their Maccas take-away bags. Before our first pay even Maccas was beyond Sinead’s reach—she’d had only hot chips for lunch.
    They were poor young people. Yet they were so pleased with life. So disgustingly happy. I knew they would all get drunk tonight and—yeah, get lucky.
    Which shouldn’t bother me. I had decided never to fall in love in my life, right? Had even told my dog why.
    I noticed several famous faces in the restaurant. But my mind was wandering. I shook my head when Ettoré offered wine.
    â€œToo chicken. If I choose not to drink even a bit, there’s no risk I’ll ever consume too much, right? I don’t think I like the idea of getting wasted.”
    â€œAre you scared you’ll be lured to drink for the sake of drinking itself?”
    â€œI’m scared of not being in control of myself. To prevent it, I’ve just decided not to drink. Even after I turn 18. Let others have their fun. Or make fun of me. For me, I’ll have the coward’s choice, thank you.”
    â€œYou have it wrong. Here in our society, it’s not cowardice but very brave not to drink. It requires strength of character. If it’s your personal choice, let the others bleat. Dare to be different. It’s okay to decline your host’s offer. There’s no shame in not frequenting pubs. Myself, I’m a connoisseur of wine, but I only drink a glass or two, and only when I’m having food. It’s the Italian way.”
    He refrained from mentioning the trendy Aussie way was to drink for the sake of getting drunk itself.
    I thought again of the close friendship Sinead enjoyed with her gang. I coveted their cheerfulness. Should I leave my comfort zone to join them one of these days? Would a wowser teetotaller ever be accepted? How would it feel to be the only sober one among friends who had written themselves off? Would I ruin their fun by being the odd one out?
    And did I really need the torture of exposing myself to new elements when it was easier to bury my head in a book? Would I ever be ready to open up?
    â€œWhy the long face?” Ettoré asked as my thoughts drifted away.
    â€œWhaat?” Now I felt worse. It was anyone’s bad luck to know me at this time of my life. “Bad company, aren’t I? And here you’re being really kind to take me. Thank you. And sorry,” I babbled.
    â€œI’m no monster,” he smiled.
    â€œOh?” I rolled my eyes at this absurdity. “Checked your mirror lately?”
    He chuckled.
    â€œTell me about your day,” he prompted.
    â€œNo way. You wouldn’t want to know.” Like I didn’t want to know how you woke up with my mother.
    â€œTry me.”
    I groaned. Reluctantly I started telling him about the absolute cruelty of the N80-bus driver. Somehow it became easier. I told him of my unforgettable calls. And the constrictive rules of the incentive system. He was laughing so hard when I detailed the Silverwater Jail and the Frenchs Forest quests.
    â€œThey made my day!” I also laughed now. “With my Quality bonus in, they saved me from being the lowest-paid Australian. I’ll never forget them all my life.”
    â€œThat’s very cool, Sydney. I’m glad you see the funny side of your job. So the horrible calls are the ones you’ll treasure because when you think of them you’ll laugh and laugh. You have to tell me more next time we meet. Unless you want to quit? I could perhaps find you a position at my office. As a receptionist? Admin staff?”
    â€œThank you. But no. Not at this stage. This is my fight. I have to win it. I have to conquer myself and my denigrating callers. One day, they will never forget me.”
    â€œBut your pay is