Read Online The Life and Times of Gracie Faltrain by Cath Crowley - Free Book Online Page B

the car beside us. She gets in and locks the door.
    â€˜Quitting’s not the answer,’ I shout through the glass. I hate it when she ignores me.
    You play soccer like no one I’ve ever seen before, Faltrain, scooting along like you’re on wheels. You go so fast no one can catch you – they don’t have a hope and they know it. You’re not even on the ground most of the time.
    You have to come down sometimes, though. People get tired of watching from below.
    Something about her reminded me of Dad. She looked like she’d been cut in two. One part of her had stepped one way and the other part was lying on the ground. Don’t just lie there, Faltrain. Get up. Change things. If you don’t then life just moves over the top of you.
    Like Dad. The real him went for a swim one day and didn’t come back. He’s just a pile of clothes on the beach now, sagging and warm after he took them off. I see him staring at the TV, but he’s seeing nothing. He looks at me, but it’s like I’m on the screen too. Karen steps around him quietly. Sometimes she lies next to him on the couch. His arms look like they’ve lost their bones. She lifts them around her but they just fall to the side. If his arms won’t work then there’s no way he’s going be able to swim back.
    Â 
GRACIE
    Martin gets smaller as we drive away and I’m glad. What does he know about losing?
    â€˜Do you want to talk about it, Gracie?’ Mum asks.
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜It might help.’
    â€˜Nothing will help.’
    Water rises up from the tyres, spraying into the gutter. Everything I see is dripping. Soaking. Our breath coats the windows, fogging them over. The smells of mud and sweat and soccer fill the car. I wind the window down and let the rain spatter in.
    Â 
HELEN
    I feel like crying for her today. For the jumper dragging on the ground. For the look of confusion on her face. She has no idea how to fail. My moth’s flown out of the hothouse and the winds are cold. You’ve got to lie in that bed now you’ve made it, Gracie, I think as she walks past me after the game, people calling out to her, making a hundred little fingerprints on her wings.

The game from the
bench

18
    fatal adjective : causing death or disaster,
as in ‘a fatal blow to the head’
GRACIE
    My life is starting to come undone. Slow, like the zip on your jeans that gradually works its way down to show your pink Bonds hipsters to the world. You don’t even notice the pink as you’re walking around during the day, but then you find yourself in the toilet thinking, I can’t remember having to pull my zip down. You realise with horror that you didn’t have to pull it down because it was undone all along.
    I don’t know if everyone is talking about me because things have started to go badly or things have started to go badly because people are talking about me. In the end, what does it matter?
    I walk out of the toilets today with my dress tucked into my undies. It’s the end of the washing week and I had to wear the ones Grandma gave me for Christmas. No one should have to see those. A family of five could go camping in them.
    I walk all the way down the hall, no idea that Annabelle and Nick are behind me, checking out the real Gracie Faltrain. Ithink I am actually humming. That is, until Alyce pulls me into a classroom, shuts the door and points at my skirt. Well, that explains the sudden breeze. There’s just no dignity in floral underwear.
    â€˜Thanks,’ I say, but my face is a sheet of ice and I leave without smiling. I don’t need her sympathy. ‘That was harsh, Faltrain.’ Jane’s voice is in my head but I ignore her. I walk back into the corridor fully clothed and feeling naked. I am an outcast. No, it’s worse than that. I am an outcast with bad underwear.
    A second before Alyce ended my walk of shame I saw Nick and Annabelle. Laughing