don't – want – a photo taken, okay? Is that a
crime?' I was whispering. 'They might make me take
my hat off, you know, so you can see my face.'
'Doubt it,' Georgie scoffed. 'Not when your hat's got
Kelly Slater's signature scrawled across the front of it.'
'Trust me, those photographers always want to see
my face!' I answered, my whispering suddenly escalating
to a squeak. 'Look, Georgie, I'm going to say
something like it's against my OP contract to have my
photo taken by other people. Okay?'
'Ace?' Georgie was looking at me like I was from
another planet.
'What!'
'What do you do when you go surfing?'
'I wear a bloody hat!'
'Like one of those . . .?'
'Yes! One of those disgusting old grandpa lycra
numbers,' I spluttered. 'Bet you want to be me, hey?'
I hadn't bargained on having to wear a hat in the
surf, until one day a bit of my scalp got burnt. It was
only the size of a fifty-cent piece, but it was agony. All
the skin peeled off, making me look like I had some
toxic case of dandruff. Every time I rubbed cream into
it, my fingers came off with a billion hairs stuck to
them, which was worse as I needed those hairs to stay
on my head!
The list I could write of the bad things about losing
your hair – or alopecia as the doctor called it – could
justify destroying every tree in Australia. That's how
much paper it would take up. But the worst part of it
was that it'd forced me to cancel two weekends with
Jules. Let alone stopped me arranging any more.
The first weekend I didn't actually cancel. We had
the first day together but everywhere I turned I saw
long blonde strands of hair. Everywhere! Except on my
head. They were on my clothes, the pillows, towels, the
car, the couch; they were even on Jules!
It was too much. I couldn't do it anymore, so I
pretended I was sick.
It was devastating! We hadn't seen each other since
he'd come up to stay the weekend camp finished.
Strangely, that was one of the best weekends of my life.
Even though I was so unbelievably ripped to pieces
about not making the team, him being there somehow
made it easier.
I had almost put him off that weekend too 'cause I'd
felt so humiliated that I didn't know if I could face him.
But then he'd turned up at camp in Carla's office with
his bags packed just like we'd arranged and I did the
exact thing I never ever thought I'd do. I put my arms
around him and burst into tears.
What he said to me in the next second had played
over and over in my head, till I wanted to scream and
shout, 'I can't! I'm not as good as you!'
Jules said to me, 'This will make you stronger, Ace.'
Stronger? I didn't think so.
My hair was falling out. I didn't know if my OP
sponsorship was about to end and more than anything,
I desperately wanted to have a good – no, a great – time
this weekend. I wanted to be with Kia and Micki and
Georgie; to laugh and surf and talk and have all that
fun I could have only with those three. But I wasn't
strong enough. I just didn't have it in me.
Sometimes it felt like my heart had shrunk to the
size of a pea. But then how could anything that tiny
hurt so much?
MICKI
My jaw was starting to ache I'd been smiling so much.
But I was happy to live with that pain for the rest of
my life.
'I pigged out on that green curry.' Ace was making
noises that defied the supermodel's body sprawled
across Kia's bed. 'Oooh, why didn't one of you stop me?'
'Because you would've slapped us,' Georgie replied.
'You reminded me of myself.'
'That's baaaad,' moaned Ace.
'Gee, thanks for the compliment.'
'Ace, I can't believe you've taken my bed,' Kia said,
as she puffed up the pillows and got comfy on the sofa
bed. 'I don't give up my bed for anyone, do I, Georgie?'
'It's your lucky day, sweetheart.' Georgie wiggled
her hips and jiggled her boobs till you could almost feel
the room rocking. 'Now move over, Kia, you get me all
to yourself tonight. There are people who'd slit their
grandmother's throat for this opportunity!'
'Yeah, like name