For Bella Fairburn the waterhole at Mullinjim was a magical place. It lay in a deep, lazy bend in the river, shaded by stately paperbarks and flanked by a steep bank on one side and a sloping, sandy beach on the other, and it was famous for holding water through even the hottest and driest of North Queensland summers.
During the long, sweltering summer between Bella’s eleventh and twelfth birthdays, her brother Luke was home from boarding school and the two of them hung out at the waterhole as often and for as long as their parents allowed.
Their neighbour Gabe Mitchell was home, too, and he joined them, riding over from Redman Downs with his little sisters in tow.
Luke and Gabe made a tyre swing and the five kids took turns to dive-bomb from it into the welcoming bliss of the cool, tea-coloured water. When they weren’t on the swing they were swimming and duck-diving, or playing their favourite water-fight game, Marco Polo.
Eventually they flung themselves, happily tired, onto the bank.
Lying with the warmth of the soft sand beneath her back, while chewing stalks of the sweet grass that grew in the damp shade, Bella shielded her eyes against sharp splinters of light that pierced the overhanging branches and stole secretive glances at Gabe as he wielded a knife to hack juicy slices of watermelon.
Her brother won the competition to see who could spit the seeds the furthest. They tossed the rinds into a clump of rubber vine where wild pigs would clean them up later, at dusk.
The day was perfect. Or at least, it would have been perfect if Bella wasn’t so painfully, miserably aware of how much Gabe Mitchell had changed.
At boarding school he was in the swimming team and that apparently involved a lot of extra training, so he was very suntanned and the tips of his brown hair were bleached by sun and chlorine.
But these weren’t the only changes. All of a sudden, Gabe looked grown up. The shape of his throat had altered. He had an Adam’s apple now and his shoulders were much wider and musclier. There was also a smattering of hair on his chest.
For the first time, Bella realised that the boy she’d secretly admired for so long was leaving her behind, growing into a man, while she was stuck behind in childhood.
Her breasts were only the tiniest buds. Basically she was still a skinny little kid, emphasis on skinny. Worse, she was grimly aware of her competition at Gabe’s school.
She’d travelled to Townsville with her parents when Luke started at the same co-ed boarding school. She’d seen the girls in their snazzy uniforms with their too-knowing eyes and shiny, trendy hairstyles, their waxed legs and sexy curves.
A year ago these girls hadn’t bothered her so much. A year ago she’d been ten going on eleven. In other words, clueless.
Now, at almost twelve, Bella knew better. This year, she’d seen girls turning stupid over boys at the little Gidgee Springs primary school – flirting and simpering and making fools of themselves. Now, she was hit by a deeper understanding of what happened when Gabe mixed with those older, sexier Grammar School girls. Every day.
Of course, the girls would be flirting with him, falling in love with him, making him fall in love with them . . .
‘Hey, misery guts, what’s the matter with you?’
Luke must have noticed her moping and he roughly prodded her in the ribs.
Bella had to think up a quick excuse. ‘The watermelon’s given me a stomach-ache.’
Just her luck, the fib came back to bite her.
When everyone else dived back into the water, she jumped up to join them, but Gabe stopped her, grabbing her arm.
‘You shouldn’t swim if you’ve got a stomach-ache.’
Damn. Gabe was always being over-protective and bossy like that. The others had already started playing again.
‘Marco!’ Splash.
‘Polo!’ Whoosh.
Luke and the girls were having a great time firing armfuls of water. Bella was so mad at Gabe. But as she sank sullenly onto the riverbank and watched the others, the most wonderful thing happened.
Gabe sat down beside her.
Just the two of them.
‘Aren’t you going swimming?’ she asked, amazed.
He simply shook his head, and he stayed there, all grown up and gorgeous, elbows propped on suntanned knees . . . talking . . .
To Bella . . .
He told her about stuff he’d learned at school – how summer on Uranus lasted for twenty years. And how the guy who discovered Uranus wanted to call it George after King George.
‘Maybe he should have called it Your Highness,’ Bella giggled. ‘Anything’s better than Your Anus.’
Gabe rewarded her with a chuckle, and then he told her how scientists were debating whether a meteorite had chilled the earth and caused the ice age that wiped out the dinosaurs.
Best of all he made her feel as if she wasn’t at all boring or too young to be bothered with. He was kinder than any brother could have been and gave the impression that he really liked being with her.
Sitting there, talking with him, Bella forgot she was a skinny, shapeless not-quite-twelve-year-old. And all the time he was talking, Gabe’s eyes held a special sparkle that made her heart swoop and soar.
Young as she was, she sensed that this conversation on the riverbank took their friendship in a new direction. It felt like the start of something very grand.