In the morning, the heat is stifling. I can’t tell if it’s hotter than usual or if I’ve just become acclimatised to Melbourne’s grey winters. I drift out of Nick’s house and stand outside Justin’s. With a deep breath, I click open the side gate.
Justin has a box of fishing tackle spread across the outdoor table. He’s untangling a length of line, wearing nothing but a cap and pair of yellow board shorts.
“Hey.”
He looks up. “Abby. Hi.” He grabs his t-shirt off the table and throws it over his brown shoulders.
“So I didn’t really like how last night went,” I manage.
He drops the fishing line into the box. “No,” he says finally. “Me neither.”
I try to give an assuring smile. “You know I’m not mad at you. I should have told you that last night.”
“You’re not?”
I shake my head. “You’re right. It was a long time ago.” I’m surprised at myself. Wasn’t sure I had it in me to forgive him.
Justin gives a small smile. “Thanks.”
“Sorry about last night,” I tell him. “I was tired, that’s all.”
“I’ve been scared shitless ever since Nick told me you were coming home. I didn’t think you’d want anything to do with me. But it’s so good to see you.” He catches my eye. “So do you think we could still be friends? I’d really like to hear about your course and stuff.”
“You want to know about all that? I didn’t think you’d be interested.”
“Why would you think that?”
“I just didn’t think it was your thing.”
“It’s not my thing. But that doesn’t mean I’m not interested. I care about what you do, Abby. You were such a massive part of my life.”
I smile crookedly. “Past tense.”
“No.” He corrects himself with a shake of his head. “You are. Always will be.”
I let him hug me. The stubble on his chin pricks my cheek and I can smell his sunscreen.
“I missed you so much,” he says. I’m not sure if I can say the same.
I climb awkwardly into our Antarctica dinghy, which still teeters on the lawn. Justin watches with a smile as I stretch my legs over the bench seats.
“Here.” He pushes his cap over my ponytail. “You’re so white. You’re going to burn if you’re not careful.”
He sits beside me. The hems of his shorts slide up over his knees, revealing the pale curls on his thighs. He shuffles awkwardly in the narrow benches. I remember when we had been small enough to lie between them.
“I have to admit,” he says. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you sitting in this little boat again.”
I look down at my outstretched legs. Nail polish and toe rings have replaced the dirty bare feet and grazed knees.
“You know,” I smile. “I wish that just once there had been no island, leaving us to fight the raging sea until a helicopter pulled us all to safety.”
Justin laughs. His eyes sparkle the way they had when we were children. “I wish that just once, Rachel had let us land on Fiji.”
“Those days were so great,” I say. “I wish I’d realised it at the time.”
He smiles at me. “Yeah, they were. But you must be having a ball at uni now.”
“No. I’m not going back.”
“What?”
I nibble my thumbnail. “I’m dropping out of my course.” I hear the words echoing in my ears. I can’t believe I’ve said them. I hadn’t planned to. My subconscious mind has made the decision for me; a decision I wasn’t aware I was even contemplating. As soon as I speak, I feel a weight fly off my shoulders.
Justin frowns. “But you were so sure. That was all you ever wanted. What happened?”
I’m silent. He doesn’t ask again and I’m glad, because I’m not able to give an answer. Not to him.
“What will you do?” he asks.
I shrug. All I know is I can’t go back to the Con. Can’t put myself through three more years of bleeding fingers and bitchy rehearsals. I see a hazy, different future stretch ahead of me. An indeterminate future, but one that doesn’t make my stomach turn. My body is confirming that I’ve made the right choice. I sit in silence and watch two pigeons hop over the grass. White t-shirts flutter on the washing line like sailcloth.
“I can’t pretend I’m not pleased,” Justin says finally, covering my wrist with his hand. I feel the calluses on his palm. “Having you back here would make me really happy.”
Back here… I toss the thought around my head. “I don’t know if I can stay here. My mum… She doesn’t want me here.”
“Oh yeah,” says Justin. “Cos of that thing with Nick.”
“Guess you heard.”
He shrugs. “Forget about what your mum wants. She can’t stop you from being here. You’re a grown woman.”
I nod slowly. Can I really stay here after all the years I spent fighting my way out? Everything I’d fought for hasn’t turned out the way I planned. Here, I’m safely away from the Con. Back where I had fallen in love with music instead of having my passion stolen from me.
Justin leaves his hand resting on my wrist and after a while, it becomes such a part of me I forget it is there. I shuffle closer to him and lean my head against his shoulder. The sun is hot against my cheek. As I close my eyes, I feel myself relaxing; feel the muscles in my neck melt. My heart slows and I take long, even breaths.
“I feel like I’m home,” I admit. “I didn’t think I would.”
“You are home.” Justin moves his head so it touches mine. His breath near my ear makes me shiver. He pushes gently against my shoulder to make me sit up. “Will you give me another chance?” he says suddenly. He bends to catch my eyes under the brim of the cap. “No more dumb games. I won’t screw you round, Abby, I swear. I just want to be with you.”
I take off the hat and squeeze the peak between my fingers. “I don’t know, Jus. This is kind of sudden.”
He laughs gently. “Are you serious? It’s taken me nearly twenty years to tell you that.”
I can’t help smiling a little.
Justin leans his forehead against mine. “You and me is simple, Ab. You know that.”
I feel his breath tickle my nose. I miss simple. I long for simple. For a second, I am twelve again, kissing him in the street under the New Year’s fireworks. But I can still hear Matt’s voice in my head:
“Find the reason you started playing in the first place.”