Up Over Down Under (22 page)

She hoped.

But, yeah—for now, back burner. Because what Parker had just implied was much more exciting news.

“Meaning…you'll let me write it up for the paper?” Parker nodded. “Who am I to stand in the way of free speech? Besides—here at the
Daily
, we're all about high… profile…ness…”

He was teasing her, of course, but Billie could see that through the faint smile, something was bothering him. Something having nothing at all to do with the paper, Proposition Seven, or anything remotely related to politics. She leaned forward, gazing at him steadily. “What's up?”

“Deadlines, you know,” he said, waving her off.

Billie would not be put off. “You're in a Mood.” Funny that she should know Parker well enough to recognize a Mood when she saw it, but there it was. Moodiness. “Give it up.”

“It's nothing.” Parker looked uncomfortable. He coughed, clearing his throat, and when he glanced at Billie again, his face was impassive. “You and Adam seemed to get along, huh?”

“Um, yeah, I guess,” Billie said. She was confused. What did Adam have to do with Parker's Mood? Now she
really
needed some quality time with Heather. She'd never understand boys.

Parker sighed heavily, leaning forward and placing his hands on his thighs. “Have you heard anything from Eliza lately? Has she…has she asked about me at all?”

The question lay between them, radioactive with meaning. Billie and Eliza had been e-mailing, of course, but lately Eliza hadn't mentioned one word about Parker—whatever that meant for their relationship hiatus. And Billie's Melbourne mates had reported that Eliza had fallen in with Jess and Nomes. It wasn't a bad thing—Billie was friendly enough with Jess and Nomes and thought they were cool girls, if a little rowdier than she and her mates were—it just meant that Eliza was probably keeping herself busy. Probably with boys—or maybe even one boy in particular. Billie swallowed. If there was one thing she suspected above all, it was that Eliza was probably off making good use of her “space” from Parker.

“No,” she said finally. “I haven't heard anything. But”—she tried to cover—“I think the internship that she signed on for is loads more intense than ours. Like, she's out in the field mucking about all day. No time for messages back home.”

Billie stood, resting her hands on her hips purposefully. Something needed to be done about the Mood situation, posthaste. But what? “There must be some place in this city that isn't soaked in partisanship, right?”

Parker blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Some place that the tourists go when they've had enough with the Capitol Building, the Mall, the White House, and all of that.”

“The zoo's pretty big,” Parker confessed, after a thoughtful moment. “Especially when the weather's nice.”

Billie glanced out the window at the sunny, crisp fall day. “As it is today,” she said pointedly. “Decision made. We're going. After last period.”

“To the
zoo
?” Parker asked, as though she'd suggested a brief jaunt to Pluto, or Narnia, or flat-out jet-setting back to Australia for a few hours.

“It sounds fun. You need fun.” She narrowed her eyes at him, willing it to be so. “You are going to have fun.”

 

The good news was, the National Zoo was definitely fun. So that was something.

Billie and Parker had meandered through the rolling paths in no particular rush, only to find themselves mesmerized by the giant panda habitat, of which the zoo seemed appropriately proud. Pandas of different ages—and levels of cleanliness, Billie noted casually—munched contentedly on large green leaves and generally ignored the fact that they were being ogled by masses of wide-eyed tourists.

“So, what's the deal?” Parker asked. He scratched at his nose and glanced down at the plaque that hung before them. “Is there such a thing as a non-giant panda? Like, a mini panda?”

“I reckon not,” Billie said. She giggled, and tapped at the tall glass wall. A mama panda, extremely roly-poly and looking none too hyper, blinked sleepily. “I mean, other than baby giant pandas, I suppose.” They'd already caught a glimpse of a baby panda being bottle-fed by a zoo official. Talk about cute overload. It was dead unbearable. But at least it'd had the desired effect of causing Parker to smile.

“Baby giant. That's an oxymoron,” Parker observed.

“Always thinking like a writer,” Billie said, shoving up against him. “Can't you take even an afternoon off?”

He shook his head ruefully. “I'm here, aren't I? I watched the whole feeding thing. With the bottle, and the…feeding.”

“Don't even try to pretend you didn't love that,” Billie threatened.

Parker shrugged, then smiled reluctantly. “Let's keep that to ourselves. It's not exactly manly, you know, getting all hyped up about baby bears.”

“I'll take it to the grave,” Billie swore. “And for what it's worth, pandas aren't actually bears.” She held up the leaflet they'd picked up when they'd paid their admission to the zoo. “Let's check out the marsupials next. You know: the koalas or kangaroos.”

“Native to the Australian region,” Parker replied, raising an eyebrow. “You getting homesick?”

Billie looked around in surprise, realizing. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Not at all.”

It was ironic that she should come literally halfway around the world, and here Parker was talking about koalas and kangaroos. She couldn't be farther away from Australia, here at the zoo. And yet for now, there was nowhere else she'd rather be.

“ELIZAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!”

Eliza woke with a start. She'd been dreaming that little lollipop people were chasing her, yelling her name.

It wasn't hard to see where
that
dream had come from.

“EEEEEELIZA!!!”

It was the twins. Eliza had to watch them Saturday morning while the Echolses went to brunch with some friends. Clearly, they were raring to go and now were pounding on the door to her room.

“Come on out and play.” It was Nick. Or Sam. Or maybe both. It didn't matter right now.

“I'M UP! Give me five minutes and I'll be out.”

She heard them start counting on the other side of the door.

“One Mississippi, Two Mississippi…”

The twins used to count using the one one-thousand method, but Eliza had taught them to use Mississippi, which they enjoyed much more and apparently made them quite the cause célèbre on the playground with their friends. At this hour, though, she didn't care how they counted, she just wished they would stop!

This is SO not right for a Saturday morning.
Eliza swung her feet out of bed and rubbed her eyes.
This is going to be a very long day.

 

 

“Oh, you've got to go!” Jess's voice rang through the phone.

Eliza lay on her back staring at the ceiling after a grueling day of babysitting the twins and then serving fish and chips. The rest of the family was now in the living room watching a movie while Eliza hid out in her room.

“I told Nomes, and she spat the dummy at the thought of you missing a trip to Bells with Macca. We decided; you're going,” Jess said in a way that left little room for debate.

“I don't know. The Echolses will freak out, and I will
definitely
be grounded until the moment they put me on the plane back home.” She thought back to her last e-mail from Billie and smiled ruefully at the irony of the two of them cranking up the parental worry-o-meter at almost exactly the same time. Coincidence? Or foregone conclusion?

Eliza rolled onto her side and held the phone against her ear with a pillow as she absentmindedly played with the fur on the giant purple stuffed dolphin on Billie's bed.

“Yeah, but you're going to miss out on the summer. You're not even going to get a Christmas barbecue. Bloody oath, you should go.”

“I don't know, Jess. Running away seems…extreme.”

“You are
not
running away. You're going on a little trip for a couple days. It's, I don't know, a cultural learning experience.”

“I hear you but…I just don't know.” There was only so far she could stretch the whole “learning experience” excuse, even in her own mind.

“Whatever. So are you bringing a swag…er, sleeping bag?”

“Oh! I haven't even thought about that. I don't have one, and I definitely can't ask the Echolses for one of theirs. I could probably swipe a blanket from the closet, though.”

“Or you could use a tartan blanket by the name of Hamish to keep you warm.”

Eliza could picture Jess's knowing grin even over the phone. “Shut up,” she said, not really meaning it or minding the innuendo, and they both had a giggle. “All right, well, I'd better get to bed.”

“Okay, but listen, I think you should go. What's the worst they could do?”

“Tell my parents. Tell S.A.S.S. Send me back home,” Eliza ticked off the horrible possibilities. “You're a bad influence.”

“That's for sure!” Jess said proudly.

Eliza laughed, and the girls said their good-byes.

 

After hanging up with Jess, Eliza was more conflicted than ever. To go, or not to go, that was the question.

She flopped backward on her bed and mentally hashed out the pros and cons of going away with Macca and his friends.

She sat up, biting her lip. Then she reached for her cell phone.

Macca answered after only one ring. “What's it going to be?”

Eliza took a deep breath. “What time are you picking me up tomorrow?”

Eliza felt like a secret agent. After she showered and got dressed in the morning, she packed up her clothes and toiletries, a pair of very cute flip-flops, and a magazine or two. She stuffed everything into a backpack usually reserved for her schoolbooks or for carry-on when flying, and tossed it out the window. Steve was going to pick her up for work on the corner—she'd made special arrangements this morning so as to avoid arousing suspicion from the Echolses if they were to catch sight of her overnight bag.