26
‘WHAT’S WITH THE sneaky end-of-the-street tactic?’ Jacinta asks as we drive away. ‘Everything okay?’
‘Just stuff with my parents,’ I say. ‘We had a fight. It was stupid.’ I don’t want to tell her they found out about the stealing in case she worries she’ll be complicit. ‘Question: does your mum ever pretend she’s doing fine about your dad, but you can see right through it to the point that you want to break things?’
Jacinta flicks her indicator on. ‘Ah, no. You met my mum. She has zero filter. I know about her every emotional high and low.’
‘I don’t know what’s worse,’ I say.
We spend the rest of the drive dissecting Bella’s decision to leave socials and discussing whether our Bella Darling hoodies will become invaluable collectors’ items now—not that we’d ever sell them. We both decided to wear ours tonight in tribute to Bella, with singlet tops underneath for when we get hot dancing. Jacinta’s eyes are streaked in matching deep purple with silver wings.
By the time we park I’m feeling at least fifty per cent better, partly because Jacinta told me Dinesh said Lockie isn’t coming tonight and partly because I’ve convinced myself my parents probably won’t even notice I’m gone.
We walk down the twilight street and push open the door of the 24-hour cafe.
I think I’m almost as nervous to see Rach as I am to see Ben, but when we slide into the red vinyl booth of the table she’s already sitting at she doesn’t look like she’s too pissed off at me. She looks nervous and hurt, but also kind of happy to see me. We’ve been friends for much longer than there’s been this rift between us, I remind myself. We can figure this out.
After we say hey, Jacinta glances at her phone. ‘We’re a bit early. Dinesh isn’t there yet. Want to get a drink?’
Rach and I nod, agreeing on Cokes, and Jacinta walks to the counter to peruse the fridge, as if she’s having trouble deciding. Rach stares after her with a jealous mini-glare. The matching hoodies probably wasn’t a good idea.
‘Um,’ I say, knowing I have to do this right away or I won’t at all. ‘So I’m sorry about, like, being so distant and everything.’ While I talk, I play with a paper packet of sugar someone’s left on the table because this is too hard to say without a physical distraction. ‘But honestly…’ I hesitate, then the words I’ve practised and practised tumble out. ‘This is all crap enough without my best friend acting like a stranger and reminding me that my brother died in basically every single interaction we have.’
Rach swipes a strand of hair from her face, looking injured. ‘ Wow . Okay. Well, I’m sorry , but how was I supposed to know how to act? I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever been in this situation before!’
‘No, but—’
‘And I was seriously freaking out about how to be. And Mum said being as kind and loving as possible was the best thing so I just, I don’t know, I just focused really hard on doing that. Like, I wasn’t just going to pretend it didn’t happen!’
‘No, I know. I don’t want that either,’ I say, shifting in the booth. I’m being unfair. I can totally imagine Rach stressing out about how to act around me.
‘And I’m the only one that stuck by you, by the way,’ Rach continues. ‘When you were treating us all like we were never even friends. Everyone else gave up on you except me.’
‘I know ,’ I say. ‘I know you did. Because you’re amazing like that. And I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to say how I was feeling.’ I take a big breath then sigh it out. ‘Ugh, no one teaches us about this stuff.’
Rach crosses her arms. ‘It’s not exactly on the syllabus.’
‘Damn,’ I say. ‘We’ve got double traumatic life skills after lunch. I didn’t do any of the homework.’
Rach smirks. ‘We’d probably skip it.’
‘We’d definitely skip it,’ I say. She lets out a laugh and the forcefield that’s been keeping us apart weakens a little. With some of the tension gone, I find the words to explain myself.
‘So, it’s just that I missed how we used to be, like, so much and…and when you treat me like glass that’s about to break it makes me feel more, you know, like I actually might.’ My words are turning watery.
Rach’s expression morphs into pure sympathy, but then she catches herself. ‘Sure. I get that.’
‘And, like,’ I continue, ‘kind and loving is super nice and everything but dumb jokes are really good too. Actually, I need the dumb jokes. Our dumb jokes.’
‘Okay. I get that too. So, less like glass, more like…’
I think for a second. ‘That pottery in art. Remember the vase you made that was weirdly the exact dimensions of Mr Guy’s neck goitre?’
Rach scrunches up her nose. ‘How could I forget? That thing was pretty solid. Like, you wouldn’t want to drop it, but it did survive in my schoolbag all the way home.’
‘Exactly!’ I smile and throw my hands up. ‘I am the goitre vase!’
We both laugh through almost-tears. ‘Gross!’
‘I missed you so much,’ I say.
‘Me too. I’ve seen so many good cloud formations, girlie!’
A second later Jacinta returns with two normal Cokes for Rach and me and a cherry Coke for her. She plays us some of Dinesh’s band’s music on her phone and tries to teach us the lyrics so we can supportively scream them from the front of the huge crowd that’s come to see an unknown band play at 8.30 pm on a Tuesday night in suburbia. Then Dinesh messages Jacinta to say he’s here, so we finish our drinks, I swallow my Ben-related nerves, and we walk to the pub.
The bouncer checks our IDs and wraps a green, over-eighteen band tightly around Jacinta’s wrist. As we wander in past the bar and into the band room, I realise this is my first time in a pub without my parents. It’s dimly lit, there’s some generic indie music playing, and it smells like being sticky feels. There are a few groups of teenagers around our age drinking beers and brightly coloured vodka drinks at high tables and some twenty-somethings milling around the small stage set up with drums, guitars and a mic, but otherwise it’s pretty empty.
When Dinesh sees us, he bounds over. He’s wearing his Dog-Mum cap, because apparently it’s glued to his head, and the same blue and green flannelette shirt as each of the people he’s just left, which would make sense because his band, in a weird mash-up of cultures, is called the Flannelette Futons. Apparently they came up with the name when they were high and it stuck.
‘Hey!’ Dinesh says to the three of us before turning to Jacinta and giving her a slightly awkward one-armed hug that melts my heart. I think it’s the first time I’ve seen her blush.
‘Your rent-a-crowd has arrived,’ she says, using snark to cover up her obvious huge crush.
Dinesh straightens his cap and looks around. ‘Believe it or not, this is a pretty good turnout for us,’ he says. ‘And there’s still twenty minutes till we’re on!’
Jacinta sees me look around too, and she asks Dinesh the question she knows I’m thinking. ‘Ben’s coming, right?’ She’s trying and failing to be subtle, but I don’t care right now.
‘On his way,’ Dinesh says, glancing at me with an expression I can’t read, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out some coloured ticket things. ‘So, we get drink cards for playing instead of actual financial renumeration. I’ll get you guys something. You know, gotta keep the rent-a-crowd happy.’
We give Dinesh our drinks orders, but a second after he walks off my nerves get the better of me. ‘Be back in a sec,’ I tell Jacinta and Rach, and follow Dinesh to the bar where he’s already standing in a line four people deep.
‘Hey,’ I say when I slide in next to him.
‘Hey,’ he says, warmly. ‘Change your mind? Let me guess, Tequila shots!’
‘Gross. No.’ Dinesh looks at me curiously, which makes this whole thing harder, which is why I blurt out: ‘Did you know that the pitch of the sound a fly makes is actually an F?’
He gives me a strange sort of smile, like I might be a little slow. ‘Wow. You and Ben are really made for each other. Is that why you came over? To tell me that?’
I’m grateful for the low light hiding my red cheeks. ‘No. No. I just wanted to ask…um…’ I finally force the words out. ‘Am I making an idiot of myself being here? Should I just leave? Like, I don’t know if you know, but Ben and I had a fight and I’m not sure if he’s still…if we still…’
I have no idea how to finish that sentence, but thankfully Dinesh jumps in to save me.
‘Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, do not leave,’ he says, grabbing my arm as if to stop me going. I must look a little shocked because he releases his grip and continues. ‘Look, he’d probably kill me for saying this but…Ben is obsessed with you. And miserable about your fight. And, honestly, he’s scared shitless. And if you leave before he gets to make up with you I’m going to have to put up with his moping, which is not my idea of fun.’
I blink at him, soaking in those words. The guy at the front of the line pays for his jug of beer and moves off, and we shuffle forwards. ‘Scared shitless?’ I ask. ‘What’s he scared shitless of?’
Dinesh glances at the door, presumably to make sure Ben isn’t about to walk in on this oversharing session, and sighs as if to say: Well, I’ve come this far .
‘Ben’s scared you’re like he was. You know. After…after his Mum.’ I frown at Dinesh and he straightens his cap with that semi-nervous tic before continuing. ‘He sort of…used girls for a while.’ Then he catches my expression and adds, ‘Don’t worry. He doesn’t do it anymore.’
We’re second in line now, the girl in front of us ordering a cocktail from a very limited-looking menu, much to the annoyance of the bartender.
‘Okaaay,’ I say, in a slightly high-pitched voice. I’m trying to get the image of Ben and any other female human out of my brain. ‘I mean, I probably didn’t need to know that.’
Dinesh winces. ‘Probably not. Sorry.’ He grabs my arm again, lightly this time. ‘But my point is he’s finally found someone he actually likes. Now he’s got something to lose.’
My body is buoyant, like it’s filled with balloons. Something to lose. ‘Okay,’ I say. ‘I won’t leave.’
‘Good,’ Dinesh says. ‘Because I told him you were coming and that you wanted to make up.’
‘Dinesh!’ I yell, but then it’s our turn to order.
I help him carry our drinks back to Jacinta and Rach, who look like they’ve been having an awkward conversation without us. Then we’re all talking about potential Flannelette Futon merch. I feel a magnetic pull from the doorway.
I turn to see Ben standing there scanning the room, which has filled up quite a bit and is buzzing with the anticipation of live music. I take the chance to soak Ben in before he sees me: his sandy hair, his blond stubble, his broad shoulders under a perfectly fitted white T-shirt. A second later we lock eyes, and he gives me a smile and starts walking over. Suddenly I have a flashback to the pool party, Lockie walking over to me a second before the sickening crack, and I feel like something really bad is going to happen. No, I know something really bad is going to happen. I can sense it in my bones, as sure as gravity. Tonight is the night the black hole is coming for me and this time it won’t let me escape. As blood pounds in my ears I grip my drink, ice-cold glass pressing into my palm, and desperately try to stop my world fading to darkness. But then…
‘Hi,’ Ben says, running a hand through his hair. He smells like shower gel, warmed up by his skin.
‘Hi,’ I say back.
Dinesh gives Ben a backslap as he walks past us towards the stage. ‘Fashionably late, my man. I’m on in five!’
‘Go get ’em, tiger,’ Ben says, pinching Dinesh’s butt before he’s out of reach.
We turn back to each other, saying nothing for what feels like the longest second in the world, then open our mouths at the same time. ‘I’m sor—’
We both stop. I glance at Jacinta and Rach who are chatting awkwardly again and haven’t noticed Ben has arrived,or they’re pretending not to. Either way, they won’t hear our conversation over the buzz swelling around us.
I look back at Ben. ‘Me first.’
‘Okay. Go.’
‘How’s Ninja?’
Ben laughs. ‘Most important thing first then.’
‘Obviously,’ I say, only half-kidding.
‘She’s so much better,’ he says. ‘She’s flying again, like every five seconds. She’s honestly a lot of work for the keepers. She tried to escape yesterday. The name has clearly gone to her head. She thinks she has a secret mission to get to.’
I laugh, relieved, picturing her zooming and fluttering around. ‘That’s so good.’ And that image gives me just enough confidence to do this next bit. ‘Okay. Me first again.’
Ben smiles. ‘Okay. Go.’
I take a deep breath. ‘So, I like you. Not just as a distraction from my crap. As more than that.’ I hadn’t planned to be so forthright, or thought I could be, but after what Dinesh told me about how Ben feels it doesn’t seem too risky. ‘And you do make me feel better, but I think that’s a good thing,’ I continue, before correcting myself: ‘It’s like, the best thing.’
Ben takes a step closer, twisting his pinky finger around mine. It sends shockwaves of joy through me.
‘I’m sorry I was a total jerk the other day. I’m so stupid.’ I know we probably all think this about ourselves sometimes, but there’s something in Ben’s tone that tells me he really means it.
‘Don’t call yourself that,’ I tell him. ‘You’re not stupid.’
‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Okay.’ But he doesn’t sound like he believes it.
‘Seriously. You’re not. You got accepted to do science at Melbourne Uni. You’re actually properly smart.’
He laughs and glances at his shoes. ‘Okay,’ he says again, and this time it’s more genuine. ‘So, I like you too by the way. If that’s not totally obvious. I’m pretty sure I liked you the second you walked into my life with a literal plains-wanderer. I was like, Seriously? Who is this girl? ’
He pulls me into a bear hug, arms wrapped tightly around me. I’m a bit shocked by the sudden intimacy but then I relax, breathing him in.
‘By the way,’ he says, words warm against my ear. ‘I’ve done the research and it turns out it’s okay to just…feel like crap. You don’t have to distract yourself with weird, dorky animal guys and piercings through the ear bone.’
I nod into his shoulder. ‘You’ve done the research?’
‘Yep. I basically have a PhD in sadness. But,’ he adds, ‘I’ve also decided I’m very happy to be your distraction.’
My stomach flutters, but before I can respond, a microphone squeals. We pull apart and turn to the stage.
‘We’re the Flannelette Futons,’ says the guy with the mic. ‘And this song’s called “Don’t Date Me If You Hate Me”.’
Dinesh starts picking out a familiar tune on his guitar and I yell, ‘Hey, I know this one!’
I put my empty drink on a table and Ben and I move up next to Jacinta and Rach. The small but energised crowd closes in around us and when the drums kick in, we start cheering and dancing like idiots.
For the first few songs we stick together as a group. Rach and I mime some of the lyrics at each other that we learnt from Jacinta in the cafe. You and me, we’re meant to be. Let’s be weird together. Let’s be weird together. When Dinesh plays a guitar solo, his fingers sliding up and down the neck, we go wild, and during some super-fast drums I turn to Rach and we jump around together, laughing and inexplicably chanting ‘goitre vase, goitre vase, goitre vase!’ The dance floor is starting to smell like sweat, and Jacinta and I pull off our hoodies and tie them around our waists.
When a slower song with a melody like sorrow and nostalgia combined comes on, Ben slides his hands into mine from behind, then wraps our arms around me. My back is against his chest and I’m glowing warm, hot, tingling and buzzing. Jacinta grins at me.
Ben and I dance like this for half the song, then he spins me around in a smooth move and amid the music and lights and crowd we’re kissing and kissing and kissing. He slides a hand into my hair and I put my fingers through his belt loops, pulling him closer, feeling the bulge in his jeans press into me. Even through all the noise I can hear how hard he’s breathing. We move together for the rest of the set until the final song finishes and we’re both panting messes.
‘Wow,’ Ben says, pulling a strand of my hair from his mouth as the crowd cheers around us.
‘Yeah. Wow.’
Maybe I was wrong about something bad happening tonight. Maybe everything is going to be okay.
‘We’re the Flannelette Futons!’ the band’s singer says into the mic. ‘Thanks for coming!’
We turn back to the stage and roar for them. Jacinta’s clapping so hard I think she’ll damage her hands.
After a minute the generic indie playlist comes back on through the pub’s speakers and Dinesh appears, hair under his hat plastered to his face with sweat. We all gush about how awesome he was, then he and Jacinta slip off to get a drink.
‘Ugh, I’ve actually got to go,’ Rach says, untangling some hair from her charm necklace.
‘No!’ I say, grabbing her arm and hoping this isn’t because she feels like a fifth wheel. I don’t want anything to come between us when we’ve just made up. ‘Stay! We can dance to the next band together.’
‘I want to stay,’ she says, reassuring me. ‘But Mum’s picking me up.’
‘I can drive you home,’ Ben says, stepping away from me slightly because he’s clearly picking up on the ‘mates before dates’ vibe. ‘Whenever you want.’
She smiles. ‘Aw, thanks. But it’s all good.’ She glances at her phone then rolls her eyes. ‘She’s almost here.’
I reach out and hug Rach goodbye, surprisingly not finding it awkward, then move back through the crowd to the bar, trying to find Dinesh and Jacinta, but we can’t see them anywhere.
‘Maybe there’s some kind of green room for the bands?’ I ask.
Ben laughs. ‘At the Franklin Pub? I doubt it.’ Then he slides a hand into mine. ‘Hey, maybe we could go for a drive though. Just us. They won’t mind.’
I bite back a grin. ‘Yeah. Okay.’
I message Jacinta, telling her to call me if she needs me, and she replies two seconds later with one eggplant and two monkey emojis. Ben and I down a glass of water each and step out of the pub into the cool night air.
‘Where are we going?’ I ask once we’re in his ute, wondering if he knows some kind of lookout hook-up location. Wondering if he’s taken other girls there.
Ben leans forward and looks up at the sky through the dusty windscreen, as if the heavens will dictate his decision. It’s a completely clear and vivid night, even with the streetlight glare.
He smiles at me. ‘I’ve got something really cool to show you.’
I fizz with excitement and nerves. I’m glad I shaved my legs. ‘Okay.’
But before we can drive off, Ben’s phone starts ringing. He hesitates for a second, looking at the screen, then: ‘Sorry. Give me a sec.’
He accepts the call and mumbles ‘hey’ in a tone that makes me think I know who it is. I realise I’m right when I hear Ben’s dad’s unmistakable accent on the other end of the call. I can’t catch every word, but he’s saying something about how Ben has work tomorrow. I think for a moment about my parents, if they’ve noticed I’m gone, if they’re worried about me, but I shove down the guilt.
‘Seriously?’ Ben says into the phone. ‘Are you my boss or my dad right now? I can’t tell. Like, which one wants me home?’
I hear some of his dad’s next words clearly, because his voice is raised. ‘Don’t speak…like that… stupid .’
I tense up. Ben’s gaze flicks towards me. I can almost sense his thoughts swirling. Then, after a beat, he says, ‘Don’t call me that.’
I grip my seat, silently cheering, while Ben’s dad is saying something else I can’t hear.
‘Yeah, well, you would never have called me that with Mum around.’
There’s a long pause on the other end, then more talking. Ben’s hand is shaking. I feel awkward being in the car.
Ben scoffs, a little funny-not-funny laugh. ‘No. I’m not gonna stop bringing her up just because it makes you feel bad. She’s my mum. Deal with it.’ He sucks in a steadying breath. ‘I’ll be home in a few hours,’ he says, and hangs up.
We sit there in silence for a moment while Ben stares at the ute’s ceiling, then he reaches out to grab my hand.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask.
‘Yeah,’ he says, closing his eyes for a second before going on. ‘He doesn’t like me bringing Mum up. He can’t deal with her being gone. He said once I remind him too much of her. Like that’s a bad thing.’ Ben shakes his head, then turns to look at me. ‘You know, that’s the most I’ve ever spoken back to him.’
I give him a sympathetic smile. ‘Are you going to get fired?’
Ben manages to laugh. ‘No. I think he’s probably feeling guilty already. He knows he can’t parent without her, so he’s just super strict. It’s basically why my sister moved away. They used to have the biggest fights.’
‘That sucks.’ I don’t think he needs me to say anything else.
‘Yeah.’
Finally, Ben lets go of my hand, pulls on his seatbelt and says, ‘Okay. Let’s go.’