24
‘T ODAY has been one of those super-awesome, perfect days of summer.’ We walk along the dark beach. The tide is out and the water lapping sounds a long way away. It almost feels irreverent to speak in the perfection of the night.
‘Totally,’ says Paul. ‘My favourite part was when you called me an ignorant fuckhead.’
‘I said no such thing. If you’re going to quote me, at least do it properly. And I do believe I apologised. Am I still not forgiven?’
‘I’d forgive you for anything in that dress.’
‘What?’
‘Nothing, and yes, I forgive you, I’m just playing with you.’
‘Hey, here’s a question for you,’ I say. ‘I want a male opinion.’
‘This could be dangerous, but okay, hit me.’
‘Do you think girls ask for it?’
‘Ask for what?’ he says. ‘Is this about that school thing you were talking about with your mum? The patriarchy?’
‘Yep, that’s the one.’
‘You changed your mind on global warming or drowning kids?’
‘Not yet, I haven’t decided, but what do you think? As King of the Neanderthals?’
‘I’m still a Neanderthal? Seriously?’
‘Okay, sorry, as a walking surfer god, what do you think? Do girls ask for it?’
‘Do I think girls ask for it? Absolutely not. Any man who hurts a woman is the lowest of the low. It’s never a girl’s fault if she gets abused but I can’t say that I don’t think that girls can sometimes put themselves in positions where they are at risk.
’ He crosses his arms. ‘That’s just the shitty world we live in. It’s fucked, but it just is.’
‘At risk?’
‘Yeah, like I think it’s shit that you can’t walk home through Batter’s without your parents worrying about your safety.
Watch it.’ A wave races up the sand, and we step quickly out of its path.
‘That’s why I didn’t blame your dad for giving me a serve for not taking you home that night of the Gap party.
Promise me you’ll never walk on this beach at night on your own. ’
‘But if I do, if I wear this dress, you’ll forgive me?
’ I don’t know if it’s seeing how easy it was to hang with Paul, how he slotted in so effortlessly around our family dinner table, how he was so open, or how he seems to give a flying you-know-what about me, but my hands are shaking and I want to prod at him, at us, like a bruise. ‘So, you like my dress?’
‘I do. I think so,’ he says. ‘I can’t see shit, it’s so dark tonight.’
‘I have another question for you.’
‘Okay...’
‘What did you mean by “I’ve got you”?’ I stop walking and let my feet sink into the sand.
‘What do you mean, what did I mean?’ he says over his shoulder.
‘You know what I mean,’ I say, unmoving.
‘Did I mean what you know I mean?’ He stops and turns to me. ‘Will you say it on a beach or with a leech?’
‘Forget it.’ I cross my arms to hug myself and keep walking, my gait clunky and ungainly as I sink into the sand.
‘Cat, wait,’ he says. ‘I’m only playing around. What exactly are you asking me here?’
‘I’m...’ I bite my lower lip and hug myself tighter.
‘You’re...’ he prompts, taking a step towards me.
‘Here’s the thing,’ I say. ‘You said “I’ve got you, Cat”.’ I deepen my voice in a gruff imitation.
‘That’s what I sound like?’
I keep going, not wanting to lose my momentum, or more accurately, to not chicken out.
‘You also said that about my brothers, and I don’t want to walk around thinking there’s something happening that’s not, but it feels like something’s happening, that’s not just you being the muscle who protects me from the dangers of Batter’s Cove to keep my dad happy.
’ I pause to take a deep breath. ‘Is something happening, Paul, with you and me? That’s what I’m asking you. ’
‘Cat.’ My name rolls off his tongue slowly, and he runs a hand across his head.
‘I know you said friends, but I’ve got to tell you, this doesn’t feel like friends.’ My legs are trembling; it’s like I have pre-exam jitters. ‘Does this feel like friends to you?’
‘No, it doesn’t.’ He comes to a stop, and crosses his arms, body turned towards the ocean.
‘Do you want to kiss me?’ I swallow hard at the memory of our ‘just friends’ chat at the Gap lookout turning into the most incredible kiss of my life. I want more of that, even if it comes with a side of rejection.
‘Do you want to kiss me?’ He looks at me sideways.
‘Not if you see me as just the boss’s daughter. Paul, is it all in my head? Can you answer me that?’
‘You are the boss’s daughter.’ He puts an arm around my shoulder and propels me along the beach.
‘You still haven’t answered my question.’
‘That’s because I don’t have to.’
‘That’s not fair.’
‘I’m sure your parents and teachers have told you this, Cat, but life’s not fair.’
I stick my foot behind his ankle and expecting a mountain I use my whole weight to push against his chest. He yields so readily that gravity takes me with him and the next thing I know he’s flat on his back on the sand with me lying on top.
‘Jeez, Cat,’ he says, ‘buy me a drink first?’
I scramble to my feet, my hands pushing off his shoulders, trying not to think about how freakin’ good they feel. ‘Don’t patronise me. I’m not up for being played with.’
He sits up and pushes off the sand to return to standing. ‘Man, I knew I’d stuff this up. I’m not playing you, Cat, not by a long shot. I want to do the right thing by you.’
‘What does that even mean?’
‘I told you that day at the Gap lookout. It means I’m a selfish prick, really. There are a million guys out there that would be better for you than me, but, well, fuck them. Of course I want to kiss you.’
‘So just kiss me.’
He takes my face in his hands. He kisses my forehead, my nose and then tilts my head to kiss my chin.
‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘You’re so bossy. I’m getting there.’ The crash of our lips leaves me suspended in the night sky, tethered to the ground by his hands on my face.
If he let go, I’d either float into space or I’d crash to the sand, more than possibly with my eyes still closed and my tongue still hanging out.
He breaks away and I desperately wish he hadn’t.
‘So, what is this?’
‘ This is simple. This is something. Since I saw you at Sadie’s I’ve been fighting in my own head.
I can’t stop thinking about that kiss at the Gap lookout.
This is insane but...’ Paul grabs my hand.
‘Fuck all the reasons I shouldn’t say this, I want you to be my girlfriend.
Is that clear enough for you? That’s what I want.
But is that what you want? For us to be together? ’
‘Yes.’ My voice is patchy and breathy, like he stole the oxygen from my lungs, and my thoughts crash, like my mind can’t keep up. ‘Wait, so, you’re officially my boyfriend?’
‘Officially. Want me to sign something? Or should we just seal it with a kiss?’
‘Not yet,’ I say. ‘I have another question.’
‘There’s a surprise.’ He tugs me by the hand until we sit side by side on the sand.
‘You said you’ve been fighting in your own head, since New Year’s?’
‘Oh, that...’
‘Is it me? You think I’m stuck up too?’
‘What? No!’ As easily as lifting a sheet of paper he moves me to sit on his lap.
I’m eternally grateful for the darkness of the beach because in broad daylight.
.. In my headband dress, as Dad called it.
.. Let’s just say he’d have had a full, uninterrupted view of something that doesn’t need viewing.
‘I mean, you sure as hell are far too good for this place, and for a shit-for-brains tradie like me, and you’ve got a temper on you that’s freakin’ terrifying, but the crap in my head is all me. Or it’s all you, but it’s not you.’
‘I know you’re speaking English here, but I have no idea what you’re saying.’ The sand under my knees retains the day’s heat. I break the surface and the cool grains move under my fingernails.
‘There’s so much I want to tell you but there’s also so much that I don’t want you to know.’ His hand leaves my hip and I feel rather than see his hand go up to rub his head. ‘It feels so complicated when it should really be simple.’
‘Just tell me.’
‘Okay, here it is.’ He pauses, his fingers twirling the ends of my hair. I wince as it pulls.
‘Hang on a tic.’ I reach behind me and tug out the elastic, releasing the ponytail. He smooths my hair as it slides down my back.
‘None of this is helping me focus.’
‘Sorry, am I too heavy?’
‘Are you kidding? I have surfboards heavier than you.’ His arms come around me and I’m sandwiched between his knees and his chest, his chin resting on my head.
‘I know why I’ve been holding back, which really, I haven’t.
I can’t get over how quickly I’ve felt so sure of this, of wanting to be with you. ’
I run my hand up and down his forearm, my fingers encircling his wrist.
‘That’s one thing. The second thing is harder for me to get my head around, but do you ever feel trapped by other people’s crap? Like they can’t cope if you’re not a certain way?’
‘Have you met my Nonna? She’s nothing compared to school. Then there’s my parents, driving me crazy.’
‘Man, Cat, they just want what’s best for you.
They want you to have options. I’m a chippy because the old man lined that up for me.
I live here because this is where I’ve always lived.
It’s not only that, but it’s also this life, the working, surfing, drinking, chicks, drugs, it’s all bullshit, and I’m just so sick of it.
’ He sighs heavily. ‘The only thing that means anything in all of it is surfing and working, and even work, up until I met your old man, work was just something I did. Surfing is different, that feels like it’s the only good thing I do, for no reason, with no expectations, even though you think it’s for redneck, sexist racists.
One day I’ll get you to understand that. ’
‘Good luck with that one.’
‘What I’m trying to say, the reason I told you I wanted to do the whole friend zone, take it slow thing with you, was because you make me want to be better. I’m not such a dipshit that I know if I didn’t go that way I would’ve done something to mess it all up before it even started.’
‘So, we’re out of the friend zone?’
‘You are my girlfriend, remember?’ He kisses me. Then again. Then again. And in between his kisses I wonder how it is even remotely possible that I live in a world where there aren’t fireworks being set off all over Batter’s Cove at this moment.
We’re interrupted by dull footfalls coming down the stairs at the top of the beach. From the Lifesaving Club’s flickering light, we see Isabel and a couple of girls are off their faces, stumbling, clutching each other and shrieking.
‘Want to skip the party?’ Paul asks.
‘Sounds good.’ I could lay in the dark like this forever; Paul’s chin resting on the top of my head, the soft skin of his bicep under my cheek, his hand trawling up and down my arm from my collarbone to my fingertips and back again, over and over.
‘Remember at the lookout, when I told you that last year I was in a bad place?’ he asks. ‘I freakin’ hated myself then. I think I hated myself right until the point where I went to your house that first time, hung out with you on your balcony, met your family.’
‘You mean when you ate all my avocado toast? That made you feel good about yourself?’
‘I literally stole food from the mouth of a babe.’
I slap him lightly on his arm.
‘Don’t be objectifying.’ I make a mental note to tell Em and Sal that the hottest of the hot called me a babe. ‘You’re the walking surfer god, you can’t tell me any different.’
‘I’m happy you’ve moved on from calling me a fuckwit but I’m not just a surfer, you know.’
‘You missed the “god” part in that,’ I say. ‘I almost feel sorry for you, what a cross you must bear. You can’t help the impact you make.’
‘There’s only one person I want to make an impact on, and it’s my girlfriend, now that it’s official, and it’s time to take her home.’ He bodily lifts me off his lap and onto the sand. He stands and holds out his hand. ‘Let’s go, beautiful. I can’t let your parents down again.’
‘Ugh...’ I take his hand.
He lifts me to my feet and hugs me, his mouth against my neck.
The streets are quiet as Paul walks me home. We have the roads to ourselves, and houses are in darkness. Every now and then, the glare from a television reflects through a window. We hear quiet voices from a balcony and a glowing cigarette is all we can make out from the street below.
My sandals have rubbed a blister across the back of my heel.
It’s the first time in weeks I’ve been in shoes that have more than a scrap of rubber.
My skin’s still on fire, and my eyes are tired.
Still, the night feels light, and the stars are right on top of us.
The day’s heat is replaced by a breeze that cools my scorched skin.
When we get home, Mum and Dad are still on the balcony nursing wine glasses, sitting in the glow of citronella candles.
As we reach the base of the stairs, Paul tugs at my hand to stop me. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, especially after what, a couple of weeks? But it feels like there’s nothing more important to me than you, and far out, all I want is for you to feel the same way about me.’
He kisses me on the cheek and calls out to my parents that he’ll see them tomorrow, then takes off in his car.
‘Did you have a good time?’ Mum asks.
‘The best,’ I say. ‘It has now transpired that I, in fact, am officially a beautiful walking surfer god’s girlfriend. How do you like that?’ I kiss them both and go to bed.