And I remember, I remember the sun. And I remember, I remember the fun. With you.
‘Remember’—GRAY
I wake to another beautiful day on the coast. Thanks to my two am run, I managed to catch a little sleep and feel only mildly trashed. Mildly trashed is an improvement on the days of waking in my own vomit, so I rub my gritty eyes, splash my face with water and count it as a win.
We scoff a breakfast of fruit tubs and lollies and leave early, stopping at a petrol station to fill the van and get ice for the esky. It’s more than four hours’ drive to tonight’s stop, near Warrnambool. We’ll be in comparative luxury thanks to a friend of Luc and Jolie’s dad, who has arranged for us to use their holiday home.
Cass said she saw it online and it’s awesome. I’m just relieved we’re getting it for free. Going off the rails wasn’t great for my finances. Once I started drinking I needed more and more alcohol to reach oblivion. And after I lost my job at the supermarket for missing too many shifts no-one was going to hire me to do anything.
Not that I blamed them.
Our first stop is the Blue Lake near Mount Gambier. I’m driving and Cass is next to me. Theoretically, she’s navigating, but she’s busy texting.
‘Weren’t you supposed to turn off back there?’ asks Luc from behind me.
‘Was I?’
Like everyone else, he’s been pretending last night didn’t fall apart at the end. We’re happy little trip-mates and the tension is better ignored than faced in the bright light of morning. I’m just glad he hasn’t mentioned my little expedition in the early hours. I can only imagine what Finn and Cass would think if they knew—they’d probably assume I’d gone looking for a party or something.
It seems that a lifetime of me being pretty tame has been completely eclipsed by a few brief months of partying. And these are my friends. The dread of going back to school next week rears up in my mind like a dragon made of whispers and innuendo, but I push it away.
Cass is quick to bring up the map on her phone and a few seconds later I catch her sheepish nod out of the corner of my eye. ‘Yeah, you were supposed to turn at that sign. Sorry.’
It takes a few minutes but I find a spot where it’s safe and turn the van around. Before long we’ve reached the parking bay, and I’m glad to see that it’s pretty much deserted. Parking isn’t something I’m great at, and attempting it in this lumbering thing with an audience? Disaster waiting to happen.
With the van stopped well away from the few other vehicles, we pile out and I stretch my arms. The swag wasn’t uncomfortable, but it’s been a long time since I swam like I did yesterday, and my arms are feeling it.
I don’t plan to be impressed by the lake. So it’s blue. Congratulations to nature, high fives all round.
But as I approach, the conversation between the others fades into the background and it’s impossible to drag my gaze from the water. It’s like those pictures you draw as a kid, where the blue is an impossibly pure colour. One that was never matched by the range of dirty brown and grey water I saw with my own eyes.
Until now. This looks like something I could have drawn with the set of pencils Dan gave me when I was eleven and wanted to be an artist. There were at least five amazing shades of blue. It didn’t matter that my drawing skills were average at best. With those pencils I could create, and I’m sure I drew a lake just like this one. Perhaps not sunken in the carcass of an extinct volcano, so pretty it hurts to look, though.
For a while, I didn’t think the world could hold beauty anymore. Darkness and grey tinged everything after Dan died, and as the days went on and nothing changed, I figured it would stay that way. My life-can-be-amazing glasses had been shattered, and I didn’t want to bother finding the pieces because they wouldn’t bring Dan back. He wouldn’t be able to see the things that make life beautiful.
I turn away, only to catch Luc doing the same. For a moment, there’s pain on his face, but then it’s gone and I’m left wondering if I simply saw my own feelings. Cass is a little way away and Jolie is leaning out towards the water. The sun lights up her face and she’s practically shining from within, she’s so happy.
‘This is completely awesome,’ she calls, to no-one in particular.
A few months ago I probably would have said something snarky, just because. But now I find I’m almost smiling. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who lives so much in the moment. I push the envy twisting my belly aside.
We don’t have time for the walk around the lake but I promise myself I’ll come back someday and do the loop. Other than this trip, it’s the first plan I’ve made in a long time.
And maybe, just maybe, Finn will be with me.
‘I’m gonna head back to the van,’ Finn says. He’s removed his jacket, and the tank top he’s wearing underneath shows off his arms.
I’m remembering what it was like when he used to hold me close and I believed the world was a safe, predictable place when Luc stops next to his cousin. The guy is naturally toned and tanned, and has this strength about him that is completely distracting. I catch myself wondering how safe I might feel with those arms around me.
I drag my gaze away. ‘I’ll walk with you.’
Did that sound too eager? I hope not. Cass is still snapping pics of the lake, and it’s not like we’ll really be alone, since the van is in sight of the lake, but it’s a chance to talk. It’s something.
Luc falls into step between me and Finn. His mouth curves, but it’s not a smile. ‘Mind if I join you?’
‘Course not,’ I say, but my airy laugh borders on guilt.
Luc arches a brow and I pull my jacket around my shoulders to give my hands something to do.
Finn’s oblivious. ‘What happened to that girl you were seeing?’ He whistles. ‘She was built, if you know what I mean.’ He gestures in a way that indicates curves.
Luc glances my way. ‘I think we get the idea.’
I’m not completely naive. I know guys speak differently when they’re with their mates, and I don’t expect Finn to be an angel, but it’s hard for me not to wave a hand in front of his face. Hello, I’m right here.
But I don’t. Because Luc is only a few feet away and he’d probably laugh. Anyway, I have no reason to personally take offense. It’s not something the easygoing girl I’m trying to be would do.
Finn snorts. ‘She get sick of you, bro?’
Luc rubs at the back of his neck. ‘Not that it’s any of your business, but she left a few months ago for a study exchange in Paris.’
‘Oh man, that has to bite,’ says Finn.
Luc shrugs.
But he doesn’t argue, and he doesn’t explain what that means for their relationship. Not that I care, but then, I didn’t need to know she was built like every guy’s wet dream either, so I feel my curiosity on the romance side of things is justified.
We reach the van and Finn turns the conversation to the upcoming football season. I can’t hide a yawn. So much for reconnecting.
‘You’re probably better off single anyway,’ Finn says. ‘Being tied down is a real party killer, isn’t it?’
I blink. I thought they were talking football, but Finn’s looking at me and there’s expectation on his face. Expectation and something else, something less friendly. Accusation.
‘What did you say?’ I ask, buying myself a second to think.
What would the old Zoey have said to something like that? I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have followed through on my instinct to run away. Or maybe she would have. Neither of us exactly loves confrontation.
Finn shrugs. ‘Just telling Luc how you like a party.’
‘Really?’ Luc folds his arms and leans back against the side of the van. ‘I didn’t know Ariel was so wild.’ His voice is warm and it wraps around me, smoothing away the tightness I feel at the edge in Finn’s voice. Since when did Finn have an edge anyway?
Probably since I hurt him.
Finn frowns, and then smirks. ‘That’s right, you saw that show.’ The edge is gone. He gives me one of those grins that used to make my heart melt, all white teeth and blue eyes. He grips my waist like in the final encore from the show and spins me around.
I try to laugh as the blue sky blurs into the trees and the lake. Around and around we twirl until I’m dizzy. I wait for that safe feeling I remember from being in Finn’s arms, but it doesn’t come. I can’t shake the irritation that he can be digging at me one minute and expecting me to dance with him the next.
He’s holding you. This is what you wanted.
But the voice in my head can’t make my heart beat faster or my skin tingle where I feel his warmth through the thin material of my summer dress. Finn sets me down and I force a smile. I was probably surprised, that’s all.
Finn’s phone rings and he steps away. He winces when he sees the caller ID and cups the handset. ‘Oh Mum, sorry, I should have called first thing.’
Luc slaps his forehead and shouts up towards Jolie, who’s walking back from the lake with Cass. ‘Come and talk to Dad before he sends out a search party.’
Jolie’s smile disappears. ‘He’ll be going mental.’
‘I’ve already spoken to Mum,’ Cass says, dashing my hopes that she’ll follow the others’ example. She’s flipping through the pictures she took on her phone.
Jolie and Luc call their dad—Luc adopting a scowl as soon as he answers—and Finn is still on the phone, leaving Cass and me alone by the van.
Considering I was just in her boyfriend’s arms, I guess it’s not surprising that I can’t think of a single thing to say to my very best friend.
‘Want a drink?’ I ask eventually, fumbling with the ice-filled esky in the back of the van. The cold drink gives me something to focus on besides the fact that I think I’m blushing. Not that Finn and I were doing anything wrong. At least, I don’t think we were.
‘No thanks, I’m fine,’ she says, holding up a half-empty water bottle.
She sounds normal but I can’t help looking for an underlying ‘hands off’ warning in her words. But no matter how I twist them, or study her expression, there doesn’t seem to be any. If anything, she’s distracted. Did she see us and not care, or was she so caught up in her conversation with Jolie that she missed the way he held me? As I replay the incident in my head, I’m sure he drew me closer than necessary. That thought should make me happy, but all I feel is alone.
* * *
We are literally in the middle of nowhere when Finn swears under his breath and pulls over to the side of the road. We get off the highway just as the van’s engine sputters and coughs into silence.
He slams a fist against the wheel and swears again.
It’s been about four hours and two stops since the Blue Lake, and the dance we shared. I’ve thought about it more and more with every passing kilometre. It’s a sign he’s thinking about me again. It has to be.
‘What’s wrong?’ asks Cass, and my urge to reach out and calm him vanishes. It’s not my place to do that. Yet.
‘If I knew that, we wouldn’t be sitting here,’ snaps Finn.
Hurt tightens her mouth but he makes no move to apologise. Instead, he gets out and slams the door behind him. Cass sits there, staring after him, unmoving.
Luc breaks the awkward silence by muttering something about helping Finn, then climbs out of the van.
The boys lift the flap on the back of the van and stare at the engine with identical puzzled expressions for long, uneventful minutes. Without the wind blowing in through the windows, the temperature in the van is rising. My dress is sticking to my back.
I get out to have a look too, but I have no idea what I’m looking at. Dan’s promise to teach me some basic car maintenance never happened. He got busy with his son, and I was doing things that actually interested me.
‘What if we’re stuck here overnight?’ Cass whines, clearly still annoyed by Finn’s bad mood.
Finn sighs with exaggerated resignation and then goes around to the passenger side to comfort her, apparently realising he needs to make up for his outburst.
I take a deep breath and try to ignore the sounds of them kissing.
‘We’re totally stranded,’ says Cass, coming up for air.
I refrain from pointing out that we have tents and supplies, and that this road isn’t exactly deserted. ‘Look,’ I say, ‘it can’t be far back to that town. I’ll start walking and call for help when I get a signal on my phone.’
‘I’ll come,’ says Luc.
I shake my head. ‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Please take him,’ says Jolie. ‘I could use a break.’
‘Me too,’ I mutter.
He hears me, but it doesn’t stop him following my lead and changing to sneakers before we set out. I can handle this. It’s only a twenty-minute hike back to the last town, at a guess, and we’ll get reception before then.
‘Don’t get lost,’ Finn calls as we head off.
‘We won’t,’ I reply.
‘Don’t worry, she’s in safe hands,’ Luc calls back.
‘Knowing Zoey, she’ll probably try to be in his hands, if you know what I mean,’ says Finn, and then he adds, ‘Luc is a good guy, Zoey, don’t mess with him.’
Cass’s laughter rings out behind us.
My cheeks burn. What the hell is that supposed to mean?
Is he jealous? Or just warning his cousin about my reputation? Seems like dying my hair back to brown and ditching the revealing clothes isn’t enough to change anyone’s perception.
I kick at the gravel on the side of the road. Maybe Luc didn’t hear what Finn said.
We walk on in silence. The sun climbs higher and I wish I’d thought to bring a drink.
Luc holds out a bottle of water. ‘It’s not Diet Coke, and it’s not even cold anymore, but it should do the trick.’
He’s noticed my favourite drink. It shouldn’t cheer me up so much, but it does. I take the bottle of water gratefully and have a long swallow. The liquid washes away some of the sting of Finn’s farewell and Cass’s amusement.
‘What exactly did you do that was so terrible?’
I twist to look at Luc. ‘When?’
He gestures back behind us. ‘What did you do to Finn that apparently means you don’t have the right to be treated decently anymore?’
‘They’re supposed to be your friends, but they’re all over each other without giving a thought to how that might make you feel. They ask questions and make comments implying you’re a total slut and you sit there and let them.’
Hearing it aloud makes it hard to ignore the resentment I’ve been fighting, but I manage it. ‘I screwed up, and I have to deal with the fallout.’
‘Obviously, but how?’
‘I’m not sure it’s any of your business.’
‘It’s probably not.’ And there it is. In the slight angle of his body towards me. In the softening of his voice.
Sympathy.
I square my shoulders. I’m long past wanting sympathy. I don’t need or deserve it. Not anymore, and certainly not from him.
‘You don’t pick up on signals that well, do you?’ I sigh. ‘Let me say it slowly . . . I really don’t want to talk about it.’
‘Fine, suit yourself. You want him back, don’t you.’ It’s not a question.
‘Who?’ I say lightly, but my cheeks are hot and I have to hope my guilt is hidden by the sunglasses and the glare.
‘Finn.’
The silence is so long that my eventual ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ falls flat.
I thought he’d have something to say but he just shrugs, like he asked me about the weather, and keeps walking. I’m left standing in the dust on the side of the road and have to jog to catch up.
We finally get reception on the edge of the town. A call to the roadside assistance number puts me through to the local garage, who are happy to send someone out.
I end the call and meet Luc’s gaze. ‘They said they’ll be there in around half an hour.’
It’s hard to tell because of his sunglasses, but if I didn’t know better, given that he’s permanently grumpy, I’d think he almost smiles. ‘Good.’
‘Yeah, so hopefully it won’t be too long before we’re back on the road.’ I don’t want to think of the alternative. Having to be towed back to the tiny town and spending the remaining days of our trip waiting for a courier to deliver the almost-obsolete parts probably required to fix an ancient kombi van.
The air on the road shimmers. The sun is hot overhead and the thought of walking back to the others makes me weary. Not that it’s too far, it’s just that having to be normal Zoey all the time is beginning to take its toll.
But Luc isn’t heading back towards the van. Without explanation, he’s following a dirt road that winds off the main highway into some trees and, typically, he’s not waiting to see if I follow.
‘Call of nature?’ I shout.
He shakes his head but doesn’t look back.
I don’t move. Maybe he wants some alone time. Maybe if I follow he’ll be annoyed. Maybe he’s trying to drive me insane.
In the seconds I spend agonising, he disappears around a bend in the track. Great. Now I’m alone. Despite my earlier insistence that I could have gone for help by myself, now that I’m actually on my own I can’t help thinking of every single scary movie I’ve ever seen.
So what that it’s not the middle of the night and I haven’t seen any strange cloaked men with hooks instead of hands? That doesn’t mean there’s not one waiting, watching, hoping to get me alone.
Cursing my overactive imagination, I follow Luc.