The way her mother was dragging her to the gym by the elbow, it was as if she was heading for the firing squad. They were trying out because they hadn’t made it into Hoadley Girls State Selective School and their parents were giving them a rough time at home. It was good to see some familiar faces from Christ Our Saviour. There were two types, I noticed: the ear-pullers, who drove off immediately after giving their kids a serious stare and a punishing pointed finger, and the bum-wipers, who stayed as long as they could, until they were kicked out because the exam was about to begin. That morning, all the parents were begging the deities, white-knuckled with want, for their kid to be the one who made it through. This was the first time Laurinda and Auburn had offered “Equal Access” scholarships, which were supposed to go to kids with parents the school considered povvo. There were over three hundred students in the room but only two of us would make it through this elimination round: a boy for Auburn Academy and a girl for Laurinda. It was morgue-cold in there, as though we were going to be strapped into those seats and have our minds dissected in some awful autopsy. Rows of plastic chairs and tables had been set up, with numbers sticky-taped down the side. There was an A4 sign stuck to the door: YEAR TEN SCHOLARSHIP EXAMS THIS WAY.
We could make fun of it because we knew we’d never enter the school itself, only the gym, a massive windowless box that looked like a giant’s shipping container. It was beautiful, but as it was guarded by a gate and set against the enormous lawn, the beauty snuck up on you, like a femme fatale with a rock. I could imagine young ladies in white gloves with lace slingshots, lying in wait to kill a mockingbird or two. I thought to myself that in a black and white photograph, it could be mistaken for the main house of a plantation in the deep south of America. This place is giving us the finger! you squawked when you first saw it, Linh. Then there was the main building: four sections of sandstone brick and the giant cream tower in the centre.
No “Ladies College” after it, of course the name was meant to speak for itself. When my dad dropped us off at the front gate, the first things I saw were the rose garden spreading out on either side of the main driveway and the enormous sign in iron cursive letters spelling out LAURINDA.
In anticipation of the release of this new young adult novel later this month, you can read an extract below. In Laurinda, Alice Pung tells an involving, original story that captures the drama and pain of school life today, as well as revealing much about the choices of young women.
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