The Good Daughter by Amra Pajalic Read Free Book Online Page A

my denim mini down and yanked my tank top up. Both were op-shop bargains I’d changed into at Flinders Street train station.
    It was March and it was chilly. Mum was hassling me about wearing ‘appropriate’ clothes, which meant looking like a dork, so I left the house in one outfit and changed into another. Although it was technically too cold for this outfit, I had to make a stand against Mum, even if she didn’t know it.
    â€˜At least I dressed up.’ I gave Shelley the once-over.
    Her barrel torso and skinny legs were covered in a Nike top and pants. ‘I got this for half price at DFO.’ Shelley smoothed down her top. ‘It was down from $120 to sixty.’
    Every time we went out she wore her Nike crap and went on about how much it cost. She claimed her look was sporty, except instead of muscles she had a spare tyre around her waist. My theory was that she was trying, unsuccessfully, to hide her lard. I didn’t know what Kathleen saw in her.
    Kathleen returned. ‘All clear.’ She took a sip of the remains of her coffee.
    â€˜Oh no!’ Shelley lifted a bag from the ground. ‘Some coffee got on your birthday present.’
    â€˜I better open it now.’ Kathleen took the bag and pulled out a beautifully wrapped box with a card attached. She read it. ‘Oh,’ she gushed. ‘That’s beautiful.’ She reached over and kissed Shelley on the cheek.
    What was the big deal? As Kathleen unwrapped the box, I read the card. Dear Kathleen, You’ve been a tower of strength during all my dramas. I don’t know what I would have done without your supportive shoulder and words of comfort. I hope you have a great 16th birthday. Love forever, your best friend Shelley.
    I wanted to crumple the card. How dare she?
    Kathleen pulled out a Nike top and a Pink DVD of her Aussie concert tour a few months back.
    â€˜Thanks. You’re the best.’ She hugged Shelley.
    â€˜Now we match,’ Shelley said.
    â€˜I’m putting it on right now.’ Kathleen stood beside Shelley. ‘How do we look?’ she asked me.
    â€˜Great,’ I lied. They were like a Weight Watchers before-and-after photo.
    â€˜I thought you’d like it.’ Shelley touched the DVD. ‘Since you didn’t get a chance to see her in concert.’
    Kathleen avoided my gaze as she thanked Shelley.
    â€˜Why don’t you give Kathleen her present now?’ Shelley gave me a fake smile.
    â€˜I’ve already given her my present.’
    â€˜What did you get her?’ Shelley asked.
    â€˜Tickets.’
    â€˜Movie tickets,’ Kathleen interrupted. ‘We went to see Twilight over summer.’
    Shelley smiled. She thought she’d won the competition and got Kathleen the better present. Kathleen had made me promise I wouldn’t tell Shelley about her real birthday present. It was an easy promise to keep when I didn’t see Shelley, but now that her sneering face was taunting me I fought the urge to tell.
    â€˜I heard it was a great movie. I hope you threw in lunch, Sammie,’ Shelley said.
    I fisted my hands. She pissed me off. I couldn’t let her get away with this. But if I argued back Kathleen would be angry with me. She was always telling me to be the better person and not let Shelley’s insecurity rile me.
    â€˜You just told me that you bought your Nike top at DFO for sixty bucks.’
    â€˜Sammie,’ Kathleen gasped, while Shelley blushed.
    â€˜At least my present was more than fifteen bucks,’ Shelley said.
    â€˜So was mine. I bought her Pink—’
    â€˜Sammie, don’t—’ Kathleen cut me off.
    â€˜â€”concert tickets,’ I finished.
    â€˜But your parents wouldn’t let you go?’ Shelley quizzed Kathleen.
    Kathleen’s parents were devout Christians and they saw Pink as the devil’s tool. They didn’t let her listen to her music and, if they found out that