9. Seventeen years old #2
“What are you guys talking about?” Bobbie suddenly appears out of nowhere and slides between us, draping an arm around Kath’s shoulders—just a little too possessively. My stomach drops.
“Nothing,” I say evenly. “Just catching up.”
“You don’t mind if I steal this one for a bit, do you?” He tightens his grip around her shoulder. My jaw clenches.
“If that’s what she wants, I’m fine with it.” I force my tone to stay neutral. “Kath?”
She glances at me, then at Bobbie, then waves the rest of the KitKat in my direction. “Oh, sure. Sorry, Sam.”
And just like that, she’s gone, trailing after him. I stand there for a second, exhaling slowly. I don’t know if anything I said even landed—if she’s still leaving with him, does it even matter? I sigh and pour myself another glass of water.
“That’s a long sigh,” a voice says from behind me. “Carrying the weight of the world?”
I turn, caught off guard, before breaking into a smile when I spot a familiar brown-haired girl. It’s Molly—one of the few people from St Hilda’s I actually know. She’s easy to talk to, even for someone as bad at small talk as I am.
I put down my water, pushing Kath to the back of my mind. Worrying about her isn’t going to change anything tonight.
“Hey, Molly.” I give her a half-wave. “Just contemplating the meaning of life, you know. Standard party stuff. Sorry—it’s nice to see you. How’ve you been?”
She steps past me to reach for a glass in the cupboard directly above my head.
Her arm brushes mine, and when she stretches up, her skirt rides a little higher.
I immediately stare at the floor like it’s the most fascinating piece of laminate craftsmanship I’ve ever seen, trying to avoid the fact that her top looks like it lost a fight with gravity.
“I’ve been good.” She fills her glass. “Broke up with David.”
“Oh. Uh… sorry?”
Why does everyone want to talk about breakups tonight? Did someone lace the punch with emotional vulnerability? Am I in relationship purgatory?
She snorts. “Nah, it’s a good thing. Or at least I realise that now. He was a prick.”
“Ah. Congrats, then?” I rub the back of my neck like it might help me reboot. “I’m not exactly a relationship expert, sorry.”
She laughs and sips her drink. “You famously don’t date.”
“Not sure how that became famous,” I mutter. “It’s not a rule. I just… I don’t know. It wouldn’t be fair to date someone when I barely have time to reply to texts, let alone be a decent boyfriend. I want to focus on swimming. I don’t think I could do both.”
Molly tilts her head, considering me like I’m a slightly confusing but not uninteresting puzzle. “Well, it’s paying off.”
There’s a look in her eyes now; amused and something else. I think she’s flirting with me.
She edges closer, her smile turning playful. “Just because you don’t date,” she says lightly, “doesn’t mean you have to live like a monk.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I don’t live like a monk.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” She brushes her dark hair back over one shoulder. “I don’t think I have your number,” she adds, casually brushing my arm again. “We should hang out sometime.”
“Maybe we should,” I say, and I actually mean it.
She touches my arm again, and it makes me think. Molly’s easy to be around. And unlike Kath, there’s no high-stakes emotional landmine beneath every interaction. No fear of ruining years of friendship. No quiet, lingering history.
I should probably find that reassuring, but instead, it feels like something’s missing.
***
When I finally make it back to the living room I spot Josh nursing a beer and make a beeline for him, not ready to engage in more small talk. We’re chatting about his most recent football match when he suddenly stiffens.
“What?” I ask.
But following his gaze I can see what’s making his face tighten. Kath’s sitting on Bobbie’s lap, his hand has disappeared under the hem of her dress, and she looks very tipsy.
My scowl deepens as I exhale slowly. I shouldn’t interfere. I shouldn’t. But at the same time… maybe I should. I don’t trust that guy. And besides, it’s basically time for us to leave anyway.
Before I know it I’m moving across the room.
“Home time, KitKat,” I tell her, reaching for her hand to pull her away from Bobbie. “Sorry, mate,” I shoot at him over her head. “I promised her parents I’d get her home for midnight.”
“Kath’s going to stay at mine, aren’t you, Kath?” he tells me, and I frown.
Kath doesn’t respond right away. She’s really tipsy, her gaze drifting around the room like she’s not fully registering the conversation.
Actually she’s definitely gone past the tipsy point.
How much did she drink? She definitely wasn’t like this earlier when we were in the kitchen.
She didn’t have that slightly glazed look that’s her telltale sign.
“No can do,” I say, forcing an apologetic expression even as irritation builds in my chest. His arm is still wrapped too tightly around her waist, fingers pressing into her side. “Sorry, but I told both our parents I’d take her home. It’s nearly curfew, so it’s time to go.”
“She’s changed her mind.” His grip tightens on her hip.
And that’s it. The fake politeness slips from my face as I glare at him. He glares right back. I’m not about to play tug-of-war with Kath, but I am about to make sure she gets home safe.
I crouch slightly, lowering myself to her eye level. “Kath,” I say gently, “what do you want to do?”
She blinks slowly, like it takes effort to focus on me. “I don’t mind,” she mumbles. My stomach twists. That’s not a yes.
I straighten up, my voice even but firm. “That doesn’t sound like a yes to me. So, I think it’s time for me to take Kath home.”
Bobbie sneers. “Oh, so you get to take her home, but I don’t? Not sure I trust you with her while she’s drunk. I know she’s staying the night at yours.”
The accusation makes something hot and angry flood through me. I take a deep breath. Don’t react. Don’t give him the satisfaction.
“She stays at mine all the time,” I say evenly. “We’re only friends. You know that. Everyone here knows that. And if it’s not an enthusiastic yes, it’s not a yes. That applies to everything, including staying at a party or going to someone’s house.”
His jaw clenches, but I don’t give him time to argue.
“Sam, I wanna invoke rule eight of the pirate’s code,” she yawns.
“OK, KitKat. We can go.” I brush her hair back behind her ear before tugging the hem of her dress down, smoothing it back into place. She stands and sways slightly.
Movement in my periphery catches my attention, and then I hear Josh step up beside me.
“Everything OK?” he asks, lifting his beer to take a sip.
At the same time, he flexes his arm slightly, an obvious I will ruin your night kind of move.
Josh is big. Not quite as tall as me, but solid—and he still has an inch or so on Bobbie.
And now, suddenly, the dynamic shifts. I feel like I have the advantage.
“Yep.” I flash Josh a grateful look. “Me and Kath are just leaving. Can you grab our coats? I left them in the hall.”
And without sparing Bobbie another glance, I walk her out the room.
“You guys good?” Josh asks as we grab our coats from him and I zip her into hers.
“Yep.” I nod. “It’s only a ten-minute walk back to mine. We’ll be fine.”
“Cool, well, see you both Monday. There’s a girl from St Hilda’s I’ve been chatting to.”
I roll my eyes, adjusting my grip on Kath as we make our way down the path. She’s quiet until we reach the road, then suddenly stops and plops herself onto a low garden wall.
She looks up at me, big-eyed and hopeful. “Pirate’s code rule two?”
I exhale, already knowing I’m going to say yes. “Yes, you can have a piggyback. But you have to promise to hold on. Your mum would kill me if I dropped you. Actually, your brother would probably kill me first. And you’re carrying the backpack.”
“Yay!” she squeals, and for someone who was practically falling asleep five minutes ago, she manages to launch herself onto my back with impressive enthusiasm.
The walk takes longer with the extra weight, but Kath doesn’t say much, and I don’t mind the quiet.
She rests her chin on my shoulder, her breathing even, and we fall into an easy rhythm.
The smell of her coconut shampoo surrounds me and I can almost forget my annoyance from earlier. The key word there being almost.