Milo is drawing circles in the dirt when I get to the river, tubs of gelato in hand.
‘Chocolate brownie for you, sir.’
‘More gelato? Well, cheers to your clucking new job.’
I scoop out a chunk of salted-caramel gelato and plant myself down next to him, keeping a decent enough space that our shoulders and hips and toes aren’t touching, without being too far away that it seems like I’m avoiding being close. It’s all so coordinated, but I’m conscious of keeping things safe. I figure enough days have passed for whatever the weirdness zapping between us for a microsecond was to dissolve and float off like a dandelion clock in the wind, but I don’t want to take any risks.
Milo swaps sweeping circles in the dirt for shovelling gelato into his mouth while scrolling through his phone, his thumb flicking to its own beat.
‘Dude. You’re being that guy.’
‘Huh?’
I point at his phone, then at me. ‘Hello? Rude. How are you?’
‘My bad. Sorry. Cool news about the job. Very cool.’
‘Yeah, I guess. Really need the money so …’ I watch him steal another glance at his phone. ‘Okay, what’s up?’
‘What?’
I raise an eyebrow.
‘Bad habit,’ he says, tucking his phone into his pocket. ‘So when’s your first day?’
I’m about to launch into an explanation, but pause. ‘You’re dying to check it again, aren’t you?’
‘Nah, I’m good.’
‘Please. Show me what’s going on.’
‘Bossy.’ Shaking his head, he passes me the phone.
On the screen is a pretty girl in a bikini with her arm wrapped around a guy in board shorts. Their mouths are frozen into two mammoth grins. I zoom in on the shot. The sides of their faces are pressed together and his hand is grazing her hip. They look like a Diet Coke ad, all fresh and light and giddy with laughter on a scorching summer’s day.
‘Who are they?’ I ask. ‘And why are we ogling them? Context, please.’
‘That’s Woody — he studies law and has already kissed more than thirteen girls since Orientation Week.’
I snort. ‘Interesting bio.’ I zoom in closer. ‘Cute. Bit jocky.’ More zoom. ‘Whoa, he has a nipple piercing!’
‘What?’ Milo clambers in for a better look. ‘Jesus. So … that’s Sal next to the walking nipples.’
‘Really? I wouldn’t have recognised her.’ I zoom in again. ‘She’s such a babe now. You never told me that.’
He shrugs, snatching the phone back to keep scrolling. ‘They’re kinda close, right? This guy is all over everyone in the photos, but she’s always with him.’
‘They’re friends.’
‘That’s what she says.’ He doesn’t sound convinced.
‘Let’s buy you some time while we sort this out. How are you on the texts?’
He shrugs. ‘Alright.’
‘No … the texts. Alright’s not gonna cut it, MD.’
I take the phone back, open up his messages and start typing. He grabs at it, but I wriggle out of his grasp and finish writing my masterpiece.
I show him the message. ‘Hot, right?’
‘You came up with that? Just then?’
‘Some of my finest work.’ I press send. ‘Sal won’t give that guy another thought.’
‘Did you just …’ Milo’s jaw nearly hits his knees. ‘You sent that to my girlfriend?’
‘Yeah, but you get to take all the credit. But if you ask me —’
‘I’m not asking for anything!’
‘— it’s still not enough. You have to visit her. Make a scene. Long-distance sounds hard, but you’re focusing on this random nipple guy too much. She couldn’t come to you, right? So go to her.’
‘I have a little something called work.’
‘Get Trenticles to cover your shifts.’
Milo scoffs.
‘Go up for one night then! There’s the bus, although they only have like one stupid time a day, or you could road-trip it. I’d loan you my car, but Kurt’ll probably need it for stuff. Any other ideas?’
‘Not really. There is the family work car … it’s sort of mine and Trent’s, but —’
‘Perfect! Ask him.’
‘Nah.’ His brow furrows; he’s pissed off at himself for letting me find out about the car. ‘He’d never let me borrow it.
‘In that case you’ll need an alibi for when it goes MIA.’
‘Familiar with the phrase “grand theft auto”?’
‘Think of it more as a little white lie.’
‘I can’t drive.’
‘Come on, there are toddlers in this town who can drive. Who in Durnan can’t drive?’
He bounces his thumbs on his chest.
I fail to hide my smirk. ‘Wow. Just … wow. Okay, Romeo, I’m sure a driver can be arranged for you. But just for the record, I will be paying you out for quite some time about this.’ I pause, unsure whether to say the next words on my tongue, but they blurt out before I’m sure whether I’m doing the right or wrong thing. ‘I can probably drive you there if you’re stuck, like do a road trip sort of thing.’
Milo’s eyes widen.
‘As a favour,’ I add. ‘You and Sal will owe me forever when you’re married with triplets and I’m living alone in a basement with a pet ferret. But if you’re worried about me being a third wheel … I mean, if it’d be weird to have me tagging along …’
‘Nah, course not.’ Milo runs his hands through his hair. ‘I’ll think about it. I reckon it might be better to plan something for later, you know? Do it properly.’
I poke at my gelato. ‘Up to you. But sometimes you’ve gotta paint outside the lines, dude.’
I hear a crack as he breaks a stick in half.
‘Like, if you were my boyfriend and you pulled off a romantic gesture like that …’ My voice trails off.
‘What?’
‘What?’ It takes me a second to catch up with what I’ve said: if you were my boyfriend. ‘I mean, if my boyfriend did this for me … I’d be blown away.’
‘Right … yeah, cool.’
Milo’s phone buzzes. He scans it once, twice, then grunts with surprise.
‘What is it?’ I ask, trying to peep over his shoulder. ‘Sal again?’
He hesitates, then passes me the phone.
‘Dude.’ I whistle. ‘You owe me so bad.’
Saved by the text message.