Content Warnings (click to reveal)
Discussed: alcohol, coercive friendship
Spilled Milk
Daisy Hamilton spent her life on the verge of tears. Any event, major or minor, had the potential to send her over the edge. When she was younger, she cried whenever her usually-gentle father tried to discipline her. She cried when she was called into the principal’s office for skipping school to avoid going to maths class. She cried when Cadbury discontinued their Tropical Pineapple chocolate block. She cried when the boy she’d had a crush on for two years told her he liked her friend, and once more to herself after convincing him to ask her friend out.
It didn’t stop as she got older. She cried for hours when the cat she’d had since childhood died. She cried again the next day at her work’s R U OK? Day morning tea when her manager asked her the question out of politeness. She cried when Sydney trains fucked up and she missed the start of the Taylor Swift concert she had battled thousands of other people to get tickets for.
So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when, a week before Christmas, she was standing in the queue at Kinokuniya bookstore and felt the familiar lump in her throat start to form. There was nothing objectively sad about the book on the history of punk, a couple of YA romance novels and the three different Pokémon Nanoblock sets she was balancing in her arms. But she was taken back to when Hannah had showed up at her house the day after Luffy died, bearing two sets of Nanoblocks that looked remarkably like her beloved ginger cat. They had sat together on Daisy’s bedroom floor, blasting Celine Dion, and built the miniature block figures together.
“Now we can each have a Luffy to keep in our homes,” Hannah had said, smiling and pulling Daisy in for a hug. Daisy remembered Hannah snapping a photo and posting it on her Instagram. At the time, Daisy felt so much love for her friend that she didn’t even care about her bloodshot eyes in the photo.
“Next waiting!”
Daisy rushed to the counter, dumping her items in front of the bored-looking young guy at the till.
“How are you today.”
It was barely even a question, but it was all it took. The tears started flowing before Daisy could stop herself. She mumbled something about being fine, and the guy either didn’t notice she was crying or didn’t care (the latter seemed more likely). She snatched the large paper bag off him and hurried out of the store, checking the time on her phone. The queue had taken longer than expected and now she was running late, again. She leaped down the escalators through The Galleries Victoria, dodging through the swarms of people shopping for Christmas gifts and grabbing late lunches, into the basement of the shopping centre.
* * *
The night before, Daisy had been conducting her semi-regular check of Hannah’s Instagram page while brushing her teeth. She almost choked on her toothbrush when she saw that Hannah had cleared all the photos from her profile. Daisy refreshed the page over and over, closed the app and opened it again, checked other people’s accounts to make sure it wasn’t an Instagram-wide issue. The toothpaste soaked into her tongue and made it tingle, pulling her out of her obsessive searching. Hundreds of posts, and years of friendship, wiped totally clean with the touch of a button, erased as though they had never existed.
But somehow, at the time, no tears had come to Daisy.
Not even when, an hour later, a message popped up:
hey, sorry I’ve been so MIA xx how are you lovely? can we chat soon?
Daisy just stared at the message for a few moments before putting her phone on do not disturb, plugging it into its charger and going to bed.
That night, she tried every possible position to fall asleep – splayed out like a starfish, curled into the foetal position, on her tummy with head at the bottom of the bed and her feet on the pillow (luckily the pillowcase was due for a wash anyway). She finally found an acceptable position on her back, her left arm and leg dangling off the side of the bed, and after drifting off she dreamed another version of the same dream she’d been having for the last few months. The sky was clear and pale blue, melting into a yellow sandbank on which multiple crocodiles lay. Daisy was so close to them, maybe only a hundred metres away, yet they posed no threat to her. They simply watched her, before diving into the ocean nearby.
* * *
Daisy groaned a little as she entered the pit of hell known as Town Hall Station. Was there anywhere on earth more deprived of fresh air? She was just glad she had dressed for the thirty-five degree weather; it made being inside a fraction more tolerable.
She boarded the train and settled into an individual seat on the top level, her favourite. She glanced at her phone, catching up on messages in the “Team Rocket Girlies” WhatsApp group.
Jeeho: sorry guys I’ll be a bit late! see you soon!
Kimmy: Classic. I’ll be there at 5pm. On the dot.
Leilani: ye ok Kimmy…punctual nerd lol
Kimmy: I don’t see what’s nerdy about being punctual.
Leilani: it’s ok Kimmy, it’s cute when you do it 😉
Jeeho: @Daisy girl you’re coming right?!
Daisy: Yes! On my way now. Running a bit late sorry, got held up in the city!
Daisy smiled, tentatively hopeful. When her older sister, Ivy, had suggested she give mixed dodgeball a try to meet some new people after what had happened with Hannah, she was reluctant; she had never been as athletic as the rest of her family. As it turned out, dodgeball was perfect. She was usually struck out quickly and could spend most of her time chatting on the sidelines, finding herself disappointed when the set would finish and she had to take the court again. Her teammates had been so welcoming, especially the other women; Daisy had been thrilled when they invited her for an end-of-season girls’ night out and added her to their group chat. Tonight would be only the third time they had hung out away from the court (not that she was counting). She feared there was still plenty of time for her to make a fool of herself. Advice that Hannah had given her years ago, when they were going out to meet some of Hannah’s friends Daisy didn’t know, rang in her ears.
“It’s okay if you’re shy, you can just fake it until you make it. Be nice and friendly. Ask people questions and listen to what they tell you. Just be conscious of what your face looks like and don’t scrunch your eyebrows together in that way you sometimes do – it makes you look grumpy.” Yeah, because Hannah was such an expert on friendship. Daisy had never thought of her face the same way since.
Daisy couldn’t help but look again at her WhatsApp conversation with Hannah. She felt the tears well up again. What was going on today? She hadn’t even cried when Hannah stopped replying to her messages a few months ago, a string of unanswered green bubbles that sat sadly above last night’s message:
I don’t know how to explain it, but this pigeon reminds me of you lol
How did the interview go today?
You okay?
???
Hey Han, I hope everything is good with you. Just wanted to see if you had any plans for your birthday?
Hellooo?
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! The big twenty-six today! You are no longer officially a “young” person for the sake of surveys etc. And excitingly, your brain should now be fully formed!!
Hope you had a nice day. Miss you. Here if you need to chat xx
The blue ticks indicating the messages had been read were the only thing that stopped Daisy from going into a complete spiral about her friend’s safety. But instead of crying when it became apparent Hannah wasn’t going to respond to her, the only thing Daisy had felt was the inevitability of the situation.
The first time Daisy encountered Hannah, Daisy was in her final year of her Bachelor of Arts. She had some spare first-year credits due to taking Italian Continuers in high school, so she took an Introduction to Gender Studies unit. In the first tutorial, Hannah got into a heated debate with their classmate, Steve, about the merits of some cultural theorist who Daisy kept forgetting the name of. Daisy watched their discussion in awe; even in her final year of university she still barely spoke in class, too conscious of being judged by her peers for her lack of eloquence. She did all her readings and got great marks on her essays, but somehow everything she held in her brain didn’t seem capable of travelling to her mouth in any coherent fashion.
One day after class, Daisy and Hannah found themselves at the same campus café, where the coffee was terrible but affordable. Hannah complimented Daisy’s vintage cardigan and they chatted over soy lattes for an hour, though Hannah did most of the talking. Daisy went home thrilled and was shocked when Hannah had saved a seat for her in their tutorial the following week. She was used to people talking to her once in class, then acting like she didn’t exist the next time they saw each other. It had taken until her last semester before graduating, but she had finally made a solid uni friend – and such an impressive, cool one at that.
Daisy shook her head, trying to push the memories out of her mind as she stepped off the train at Newtown Station. Being here didn’t help. The first time Daisy celebrated her birthday with Hannah, they spent the night bar-hopping in Newtown after stuffing themselves at Thai Pothong. Not even Hannah could have expected how loud Daisy became when tipsy.
“Fuck kebabs,” Daisy had shouted as they walked down King Street arm in arm, rightfully earning her mutters of disagreement from other pedestrians. “All I want after a night out is SWEEETS!”
They begged the staff at Messina who were closing up the shop to let them buy just one more ice cream, they didn’t even care if they had to share it. After wobbling to Newtown Station, Daisy’s foot caught on the bottom stair to the platform, sending her hurtling and the cone of salted caramel gelato splattering to the ground. She cried and cried, not even caring about her slightly twisted ankle. Hannah went back upstairs to the convenience store outside the gates and bought them both Maxibons instead. Hannah took a selfie of the two of them and spent a few minutes choosing a filter before posting it on her Instagram page.
“I’m so glad you eat the chocolate-covered end first, like a reasonable person,” Hannah said to her as they waited for their trains.
“Are you kidding? The biscuit end is the best part. If you ate that first, our friendship would be over.”
Daisy remembered the way Hannah had hugged her tightly then, just as the trains arrived, Hannah on her way back to Bondi Junction and Daisy taking the opposite train to Ashfield. Hannah had whispered into her hair: “This friendship will never be over, my lovely. I know it. Happy birthday.”
* * *
Daisy climbed the stairs to the top of the station and exited, walking past the dream interpreter’s shopfront, the nail salon and the Thai takeaway. How she felt about Newtown varied on any given day; most of the time, she appreciated the vivacity of the area and the sheer variety found in both food and people. Other days, if she was in A Mood, she couldn’t stand it; it was too loud, too crowded, why did everyone have to be so goddamn quirky? She had spent so much of her early twenties here, trying to find an identity that suited her among the restaurants and bars and shops. Was she a cool girl who drank whiskey and discussed philosophy at small bars? Or an environmental warrior, hanging out with other vegans at Blossoming Lotus and living on their three-options-and-rice meals? A basic bitch drinking cocktails on the roof of Webster’s? All the time, trying to morph aspects of herself into something that suited other people.
On this particular evening, King Street was buzzing. It was the kind of atmosphere Daisy enjoyed most: the sun still on its way down to Enmore, groups pouring out of the station, hugs everywhere as people reunited for end-of-year parties. She couldn’t help but smile, before remembering that she was running late and hustling towards the city end of King Street to the Newtown Hotel, the short heels of her brown leather sandals clacking against the footpath.
She swept into the courtyard of the pub, the swishy skirt of her butter-yellow dress following a moment after her. She clutched the paper Kinokuniya bag, scanning for her friends – hoping she could safely call them that now.
Someone shouted her name and she looked up to see Jeeho rushing towards her, arms outstretched. Jeeho’s cropped black hair shone in the dwindling sunlight and she wore an adorable lilac playsuit covered in cartoon fruits. Daisy let herself be wrapped in a hug, Jeeho’s citrusy perfume enveloping her, before being led to the table where Leilani and Kimmy were deep in discussion.
“Daisy! That dress is gorgeous!” cried Leilani. “Want anything to drink? I was just about to order another cocktail jug, you in?”
“Geez, Lani, let her settle in before you ply her with alcohol,” Kimmy said, smoothing down her auburn hair.
“But isn’t that what we’re here for?”
“I thought we were just having a chill girls’ night!”
“Hey, it’s fine,” Daisy chimed, hoping to ease the tension that seemed to be brewing between Kimmy and Leilani. “I’m in. My shout.”
An hour later, Daisy had downed four glasses of the mysteriously but appropriately named “Pink Jug” cocktail. It was deliciously cold and tasted vaguely of rose (but mostly of vodka) and was way too drinkable. It had pinkened her cheeks and soothed her nerves, at least a little bit. She hadn’t even thought about her eyebrows since she’d arrived.
“Okay, Daisy, I’m just going to say it,” Jeeho said. Daisy sat up straighter. “That guy at the table over there has been checking you out since you got here. You should go say hi.”
“Oh…no, I couldn’t. We’re having a girls’ night, right? No men allowed.” Daisy smiled and sipped her drink, hoping the large glass hid her eyes travelling in the direction Jeeho had nodded towards.
Don’t bother. She’s too chicken to approach someone at a bar. Hannah’s words from years ago echoed in her mind. They were at the Marly Bar, just a few doors up, on the night of Daisy’s birthday that had ended with Maxibons. Daisy’s sister Ivy had joined them after finishing her shift at RPA and had clocked Daisy checking out a guy who was playing pool.
Daisy remembered watching as Hannah, in her slinky, backless gold dress, sidled over to the man playing pool. Hannah pointed at Daisy, shouting to be heard over the thrumming electronic music: “My friend thinks you’re really cute, but she’s shy! Do you want to come and hang with us for a bit?”
Daisy watched as he looked her over, then as he turned back to Hannah and leaned in close, whispering something. Hannah smiled slightly and shook her head, then made her way back to Daisy and Ivy.
“Sorry, Daise. He asked for my number, can you believe that?” Hannah tossed her long brown curls over her shoulder, rolling her eyes.
Daisy had excused herself to the bathroom and sat in a cubicle. She felt the familiar sting at the back of her eyes and the tightening of her throat. She closed her eyes, bracing herself. She managed to swallow the threat of tears. Typical Hannah. Making the universe revolve around her, even on my birthday. It was the first time in their friendship she’d had such a cohesive unkind thought about her friend, and it startled her.
* * *
“The alcohol has gone straight through me, I’m going to go pee,” Daisy said to her dodgeball friends, wondering for the millionth time in her life why she couldn’t just say she was going to the toilet like a regular person.
“I’ll come with you!” Jeeho said, jumping out of her seat.
“Oh, no, it’s oka–”
“I insist,” Jeeho said. She linked her arm with Daisy’s as they weaved through the crowd; the air was warm but stale, the fake-fruity smell of vape wafting in from the smoking area. Ugh. The overly sweet scent made Daisy’s nose scrunch up and she quickly tried to return her face to a more neutral expression.
“Those two need some alone time, anyway,” Jeeho said as she pushed open the door to the women’s bathroom. “I wish they’d just get together already. Their ‘we can’t stand each other’ act isn’t fooling anyone.” Oh. Daisy blushed a little – it had fooled her; she’d totally misunderstood the tension between the other two women earlier.
While Daisy was in the cubicle, she pulled out her phone. She hadn’t checked it all evening, not wanting to appear rude. She had another message from Hannah.
I know I’ve been a shitty friend, Daise
please, I need you, my lovely.
Daisy wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, or the poor sleep, or just everything hitting at once, but before she could stop it, the tears were coming again. Why did it have to be now? Why couldn’t Hannah just leave her alone, as she had done for the past five months? Was Daisy now just as bad, if she was ignoring her supposed best friend when Hannah clearly needed her? Should she reply, see if they could make things work again?
No. It wasn’t fair; Daisy couldn’t just drop everything and come running back.. This was her night. Her GIRLS’ NIGHT, damn it! And she was going to have a good time with the girls.
She sniffled quietly and dabbed at her eyes with some toilet paper, thankful she’d decided against wearing mascara – as a regular crier, she was used to going around with her blonde eyelashes bare. When she emerged from the bathroom, Jeeho was waiting for her, tapping her foot to an old MGMT song blaring over the sound system.
They made their way back to the table, where they found Kimmy and Leilani once again in intense conversation, heads close together. Daisy smiled to herself, hoping she’d be around long enough to see whatever was building between them happen. Sitting down next to Kimmy, she inhaled deeply and reached for the Kinokuniya bag.
“So…” she started, “I know this might be a bit weird, but I got you guys some gifts?” The three of them turned to Daisy, eyebrows raised. She pulled out the Pokémon Nanoblock sets and handed one to each of them. “Because we’re Team Rocket?”
She knew that Jeeho had chosen the name and had seen photos of her collection of Pikachu plushies, and she hoped that Leilani and Kimmy were also fans. No one spoke and Daisy’s heart raced. They don’t like it, it’s too dorky, it’s too much, I’m too much–
“I love it!” Kimmy cried, pulling Daisy into a side hug. It was the loudest Daisy had ever heard her speak away from the dodgeball court. Daisy’s insides fluttered and her cheeks warmed. This time, it wasn’t because of the alcohol.
* * *
“Boy, could I go for one of those,” Jeeho said, watching a couple walk past holding ice cream cones. The four of them had just waltzed out of the pub, after working their way through another four Pink Jugs. Daisy inhaled the warm night air. The sound of laughing groups filled the street and mixed with the honking of car horns as drunk people jaywalked across King Street. The group made their way down the road to the nearest dessert shop and ordered waffles and brownie sundaes before settling into a booth.
“I hear these brownies are to die for,” Leilani said as their food arrived, her arm resting casually around the back of Kimmy’s seat. Kimmy shifted slightly closer and Daisy squealed a little internally.
“I’ve been wanting to try them for ages!” Daisy said, realising her voice came out all loud and pitchy like it always did when she was drunk. She stabbed at the chocolate sauce-covered waffle, hoping no one had noticed. “My friend used to make these Vegemite and caramel brownies. Such a weird combination but she was so good at baking, she made it work.”
“That sounds awesome, can your friend stop by our game sometime?” Jeeho batted her eyelashes at Daisy, then giggled at her own theatrics.
“Well – she – I’m not –”
The waffle Daisy was swallowing suddenly felt like wet cement, hardening and trapping the lump that was rising in her throat, as her mind jumped to one of the last times she’d seen Hannah. The weather had just started to turn cold. They had been in the kitchen of Hannah’s apartment, on a baking bender which Hannah had decided was an appropriate midnight activity. Daisy had noticed the spot on the windowsill where the Nanoblock cat they had built together was now occupied by a mini herb garden.
“I only did that because you were sad about Luffy. I’m not going to display Lego in my home, Daisy. I’m an adult.”
Daisy stared into the bowl of creamed butter and caster sugar she was standing over, wondering what she was doing there.
“After we’re done with these, wanna go for a drive down to LaPa?” Daisy asked, concentrating on stirring the pale yellow mixture in front of her.
Hannah yawned. “I don’t really want to do that – it’ll be freezing. And I’ll be too tired by then.”
Daisy looked at her. “I don’t really feel like baking cookies, yet here I am.”
“Yeah, because this is fun! We get to eat the cookies. We don’t have to go out anywhere.”
“That’s not the point. You expect me to do everything you say.” Daisy’s voice wavered a little, and she realised she was shaking. She had never stood up to Hannah before.
Hannah sighed. “Whatever, Daisy. If you don’t want to be here, just leave.”
Daisy let the wooden spoon clatter onto the bench, not caring that the butter and sugar would get all over Hannah’s countertops. She grabbed her handbag and jacket from the floor and quickly slid on her black ankle boots. She felt her eyes start to fill with tears and turned her head so her hair covered her face, hoping Hannah wouldn’t see.
“Oh, Daise, I was just joking! We’ll go down to LaPa if you want, no need to be so dramatic – for god’s sake, don’t cry. We can watch a movie and forget the cookies. Just stay with me, please?” When Hannah turned the full effect of her wide blue eyes onto someone, it was hard to say no. Daisy slowly slipped off her boots and flopped onto the couch, even as her throat remained tight and something deep within her whispered, This isn’t right.
Now, Daisy was starting to realise there was nothing fundamentally wrong with her, and there never had been. She was shy and she had a lot of feelings and she wasn’t always great at talking to people, but that didn’t make her any less worthy of love and friendship. She could no longer hold herself to the impossible standards she had forced upon herself since childhood and that had been reinforced by Hannah. If she wasn’t being nice, who even was she? But being nice wasn’t the same as being a good person. A good person was honest and stood up for themselves. Maybe she wasn’t quite there yet, but Daisy felt as though she could be, in the not-too-distant future.
Daisy’s phone buzzed and she pulled it out of her pocket, the words blurring together as she read the newest message.
Daisy, please reply…you’re my best friend.
I really need to talk to someone
Steve broke up with me again.
Daisy thought about the unanswered messages, the rejected phone calls, all the spontaneous plans Hannah expected Daisy to go along with, the times Hannah hadn’t shown up when Daisy needed her and the times she had, the snarky comments Hannah made which she disguised as friendly banter, the late nights in Hannah’s apartment where it felt like there was never enough time to talk about everything.
Daisy opened up her contacts and tapped on Hannah’s details, which were top of the list – Daisy had her saved as a “favourite”. She went into the settings and tapped “block contact” before quickly shoving her phone back into her pocket. She looked up, realising she still hadn’t answered Jeeho’s question. Kimmy and Leilani had moved on, chatting away about ice cream flavours, but Jeeho was still watching her expectantly, eyebrows creased and eyes wide. The threat of tears gone, Daisy’s voice came out loud and strong.
“I don’t think she’ll be able to make it. We’re not friends anymore.”
Tara lives and writes on the lands of the Wangal people. She recently completed a
Graduate Diploma in Creative Writing and has previously had work published in the
University of Sydney anthology. Besides writing she loves playing netball, reading,
eating and people-watching/sticky-beaking from her balcony. She is currently
working on a middle-grade novel. You can find her on Instagram @taraeb_writing.
Locative Magazine 