Road trip. I stared at my phone, eyebrow raised. No anger? No demand for apology?
Before I could work out how to compose my response, the phone beeped again.
You have your squinty thinking face on, don’t you?
What?
Squinty face? I typed back, trying to simultaneously convey my indignation and ask what he meant.
Not waiting for his answer, I padded to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror above the peppermint-green sink. There was just enough moonlight through the frosted window to see my reflection.
I tried to remember what I did when I was thinking. Right eyebrow arched, brow furrowed; chewing lower lip.
Damn. I did look squinty.
Kind of angry, too, although I wasn’t. It must be the furrowed brow.
My phone beeped again.
Now it’s probably an indignant look.
I smiled slightly despite myself, and felt my mood lifting. He wasn’t dwelling on that stupid moment in his studio. He was moving on. Shut up. I paused before sending the message. Did I dare ask him about this road trip? Or, actually, was there even any point? I had nowhere else to be. There was nothing stopping me. I had no timeframe for going home. Why did it matter if he was talking a quick jaunt up the coast or a trek across the Simpson Desert?
I’m in, I typed. I ignored the apprehension fluttering in my gut. Or maybe it was excitement—the thought of doing something completely spontaneous. Maybe it was both.
I sent the message and headed back to the bedroom. By the time I was settled down again in my corner Elias had sent through his reply.
Awesome. I’ll pick you up in the morning bout 10. Sleep tight.
A second message came in quick succession. And watch out for those bedbugs.
I snorted. Ha. Funny.
I tried to go back to reading the book but I couldn’t focus on it anymore. The brief conversation with Elias had made me realise how alone I was in the house, how much I wanted someone to talk to.
‘Road trip,’ I said aloud to the empty room. Quietly, in deference to the stillness of the night. As it was, the sound seemed to echo off the bare floorboards and walls. ‘I guess it’ll be an adventure.’
*
I tossed and turned a lot in the night. At least twice I got up and went to the window to look out at the sleeping world. I didn’t dare stay there for too long. My face would be visible in the moonlight to anyone who happened to look. It didn’t help, anyway. I still felt as though I might as well be alone in outer space.
My phone woke me and I scrabbled for it among the stuff spread over the floor. It was my fourth morning waking up in the house and I still wasn’t used to the dust, the body-aches from the hard floor.
‘What?’ I mumbled.
‘Did I wake you? Jeez, it’s like midday.’
I looked at the time on my phone through bleary eyes. ‘It’s nine-thirty.’
‘Sorry, I’ve been up for hours. I’ve already had like three coffees. Can you come let me in?’
He was waiting down in the little courtyard, bouncing up and down on his heels. It didn’t seem like he’d made any attempt at keeping a low profile, but thankfully there didn’t seem to be anybody watching.
He had a Lonsdale gym bag in one hand and was swinging it as he bounced. ‘I brought you a bag, figured it would be easier to put some of your stuff in.’ He offered it to me and I took it, too surprised to do otherwise. I wasn’t used to anybody looking out for me. Usually I was the one getting everyone else organised.
‘Did you want to swing past your place to collect some clothes and stuff?’
Dad would be at work and the kids at school, but Mum would probably be home with Josey and Evie. I felt a slight twinge of guilt at the thought of Josey, but it wasn’t enough. ‘No. It’s okay.’ Mum was the last person I wanted to see.
He gave me a sceptical look. ‘You’ve been wearing the same clothes all week. It’s…well, kinda gross.’
‘You really know how to make a girl feel special.’ I turned to head up the stairs. I wasn’t going to admit that he was right. I would’ve killed for a hot shower and clean clothes.
He followed me up. The room I’d been sleeping in was a mess. My bundle of other clothes—my makeshift pillow—had come unravelled at some point during my tossing and turning, and spread everywhere. In among them were half-a-dozen chocolate bar wrappers and other miscellaneous stuff from Elias’ gift basket.
‘Nice look you’re going for here,’ Elias quipped, as I tried to kick things into a pile with my feet.
‘Hey, you try living without furniture,’ I shot back, a little offended. I’m not naturally the tidiest person in the world, but I’m not a complete slob. But without furniture—a bed, a table, a garbage bin—everything was just one big messy pile.
I folded the clothes quickly, packing a few things into my backpack and the rest into Elias’ bag. I added the toiletries, towel and leftover food. Shoved the wrappers into an end pocket. I left the empty box that Elias had used for the gift basket, hoping he wouldn’t be offended I wasn’t taking it with me.
I took the stairs two at a time and checked out the back door. There didn’t seem to be anyone in sight. Still, I paused and turned back to Elias. ‘Remember, we’re not supposed to be here.’
‘I can be stealthy!’ he protested. He made a show of zipping his lips shut, then gestured silently for me to go ahead. I slid the glass door open and stepped out, gingerly navigating the doorway with my two bags. Elias followed, slid the door closed and stepped back so I could lock it.
I hesitated for a moment, wanting to keep the key with me, keep my claim to the place. Then common sense took over and I knelt down to slip it back into its hiding place under the loose brick. I brushed my knees off and nodded to Elias. Let’s go.
Elias had remembered to park a few houses down, and nobody seemed to be paying any special attention to us. We slipped through the front bushes and out onto the street. On the footpath he caught up and walked alongside me, a spring in his step.
‘You really have had three coffees, haven’t you?’ I asked.
‘First one was a double shot, so maybe technically it’s four. I’ve been up since quarter to six.’
We reached the van and I waited by the passenger door. He leaned to look at me across the front of the van. ‘It’s not locked,’ he explained. ‘The lock on the back’s busted, so I figured there’s no point.’
‘You ever thought about getting a new car?’
‘I love this car.’
I sighed, and saw Elias’ manbag was already on the centre bench seat, along with a thermos and a jacket. ‘Might toss my bags in the back.’
‘Sure. I’ve got most of my stuff back there, too.’
I trudged around to the back of the van. Elias hadn’t been kidding—the handle was loose and I didn’t even need to twist it. Soon as I pulled on it, the door swung open, nearly clocking me in the face as I reared back to avoid being hit.
What I saw inside made me take another step back.
Vogue bloody Fontainbleau.
‘What the hell?’
She was sitting with her back along the inside wall of the van, legs stretched out in front of her, daintily crossed at the ankles. The ever-present phone was in her lap, the stupid cat-ear headphones plugged in. With a folded blanket underneath her and a pillow behind her back, she could have been stretched out on a banana lounge in the tropics.
Till she looked at me. ‘Oh,’ she said. Disdainful. ‘You.’
‘What are you doing here? How long have you been sitting in the back?’
‘I was coming by the house. Then I saw Elias’ van. I thought I’d hitch a ride.’
I felt my jaw tighten. Rather than try to come up with some witty comeback—because, pathetically, I wasn’t sure I could—I dumped my bags onto the van floor and stalked around to the driver’s side door. Elias was already in his seat and fiddling with his phone, oblivious to what was going on behind him. He only looked up when I rapped on the window.
He slowly wound down his window. ‘What?’
‘We’ve got a freaking stowaway.’
He half-laughed. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Your number one fan. She’s hiding in the back.’
He laughed that same confused laugh again, as if he didn’t quite believe me, and opened the door. I moved back to let him pass me and followed him to the rear doors.
‘Oh. Hi.’
She had gone back to listening to music, not a care in the world. ‘Hi.’
‘What are you doing back here?’
‘I wanted to hang out with you for a bit.’
‘Don’t you have school today?’
‘Doesn’t she?’ She pointed at me. My hand tingled with the urge to smack her.
Elias glanced across at me, looking faintly amused. Not at all bothered by Vogue’s game playing. ‘You should really be in school.’
‘Well, think of it this way…’ Vogue made a show of taking off her headphones and winding the cable methodically around her phone. ‘I’m not going to school either way. I haven’t been all week. So you can either leave me wandering around the streets, where anything could happen to me… or you can let me come with you.’
‘You don’t even know where we’re going,’ I pointed out, irritated at the thought that Elias might fall for her little argument.
‘Where are you going?’
‘None of your business,’ I snapped.
‘Okay, time out.’ Elias turned to me. ‘She’s right, we shouldn’t leave her here by herself.’
‘Are you serious? She’ll be fine. She has a home to go to.’
He opened his mouth—no doubt to tell me I had a home to go to, too—and I froze him with a look.
I turned to Vogue. ‘How did you even know this is Elias’ van? You’ve only met him that once, at the shops. Did you follow us?’
‘As if I’d follow you,’ she scoffed. ‘I just saw you leave.’
‘Right.’ I turned back to Elias. ‘She can’t come with us,’ I said, in the most final tone I could muster. ‘End of story.’
With common sense on my side and a refusal to compromise, I figured I’d won the battle. But then Vogue pulled out the big guns. Her lower lip quivered, and her big eyes—they were brown, just like a puppy’s—were suddenly shiny with tears.
Checkmate.