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“Yes, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that!”

“Well, long story short, when Australia was invaded and colonized they decided it’d be a good idea to chuck all the convicts in Britain over there, so most of the eastern side of the country developed an accent that was influenced by a lot of British accents, especially the ones more common in the working class.”

“You know how you just sounded, right?”

“The British class system’s problematic; don’t shoot the messenger. Then when Europeans started coming over to South Australia a little later, they were free settlers, so there was a lot morereceived pronunciation.” Here he put on an exaggerated, snobbish accent to illustrate. “Like theQueen’s English,you know? Then that accent mixed with the other accents and had a bastard baby that sounds like me. So, most of the country says ‘dance’ and ‘chance’ kind of like you guys, but we’re ‘dahnce’ and ‘chahnce.’ That kind of shit.”

My iced coffee was forgotten on the table, getting more watery by the second, but I wasn’t even bothered. It was thefirst time I’d heard any of this. It struck me I didn’t really know that much about Brougham’s country at all. I mean, I’d thought I did, but… “Are there other differences?”

“Well, you know, regional ones, but nothing that’d mean much to you, I guess. Like, some states say ‘bathers,’ some say ‘togs,’ some say ‘swimmers.’”

“‘Bathers.’”I snorted.

“Is thecorrectterm,” Brougham said calmly. “Oh, and, we do a weird thing with ourL’s most of the country doesn’t do. Like, we don’t pronounce them if they come before a consonant or at the end of a word. Like ‘milk’ or ‘yell’ or ‘talkative.’”

I listened closely as he spoke. “Miw-k.” “Yeh-w.” “Taw-ka-tive.” “I feel like a nerd right now but this is kind of fascinating.”

Brougham leaned forward. “No, it’s nice that you’re interested, actually.”

ACK-shuh-lee.

His weird little bastard accent had already been growing on me, but now that I was aware of its history, even more so.

And maybe the same could even be said for him.

THIRTEEN

Locker 89, I have a crush on a guy I’ve never spoken to. We’re in so many classes together, but he hangs out with a totally different crowd, and I’m sure he’d never be interested in me. But I want him to be. Will you be my fairy godmother?

[email protected]

Locker 893:06 p.m. (0 min ago)

to Marie Leider

Hi Marie,

Eye contact, eye contact, eye contact. Now I don’t mean follow him around staring at him without blinking. But I do mean glance at him, and if he meets your eyes, hold that gaze for at least a couple of seconds. Looking away quickly can make it seem like it was an accident (we don’t want that—we don’t want him doubting your interest; we want him sure that if he comes up and says hi he won’t berejected!) or like you lack confidence. And confidence is the sexiest thing ever! It says I love me, and if you know what’s good for you, you should too!

If he starts a conversation, smile, be pleasant, engage, and ask open-ended questions. Nothing that only needs a yes or no answer. That’ll keep the conversation flowing. And don’t be afraid to approach him to start a conversation first! Just keep it casual and ask if he remembers when that book report is due, or if *he* was the one who got an A+ last year, and how did he manage that? Not necessarily those word for word, but you get me. Just show you’re friendly, and easy to talk to.

Honestly, don’t be afraid. Most people are really nice, and they wouldn’t have an issue with someone striking up a friendly conversation (and seriously, if this is one of the few guys in school who would give you hell for asking a simple question, maybe you should have a long think about if that kind of guy deserves you anyway?). At best, he was hoping for an opportunity to get to know you and was too shy to approach (guys can be shy and nervous too!). Worst, you might get a new friend / friendly acquaintance. You have nothing to lose.

Good luck!

Locker 89

Brougham and I stood outside the café, ducked under the awning for protection from the rain.

“It’s not gonna stop raining anytime soon,” he said.

“Nope.”

“Make a break for it?”

I nodded at him with gritted teeth and we darted down the sidewalk to my car while I pounded the unlock button on the car keys.“Get in, get in, get in!”

We were soaking wet by the time I slammed my door closed, water dripping down our hair and from our clothes all over the car seats. Brougham’s green sweater was almost black with rain. He smoothed a hand over his hair to slick it back out of his face. “Now what?” he asked as I started the engine, windshield wipers kicking into gear.