by J. M. Adele
“That’s a pretty formidable gift you’ve got.”
“I suppose it is.”
“What else do you know?” Did she know how Jess died? Or who’d killed her?
“It’s not like I can pluck information from the air whenever I want it. Answers come to me when they’re supposed to come. I can’t control it.”
“If you could control it, the government would either have you committed, or they’d employ you.”
“Probably.”
“What other talents do you have besides dancing and knowing stuff?”
“I kick arse at spin the bottle.”
I didn’t want to think of her playing that game with Michael and every other horny teenage boy at this party. “What else?”
“I can touch my nose with my tongue.” She demonstrated, poking her pink tongue out and curling it up.
I blinked at the sight, my groin tightening. Damn, put that weapon away.
“What can you do besides build houses, and play rugby—both codes?”
“I can speak Spanish.”
“Really?”
“No, that’s a lie.”
She punched me on the arm, drawing a smirk to my face.
She wanted to know about me. I’d willingly tell her everything. Even my faults; and there were plenty. “I can play guitar and sing.”
“Seriously?” Her face lit up with excitement. “Go on then.”
“What? Here?”
“Yes! I wanna hear.”
“Nah.”
“Why not? If you’ve got it, flaunt it, right? Isn’t that why you take your shirt off when you get home from work?”
I almost snorted. Had she just complimented my body and called me a show-off in one sentence? “I take it off because I’m always filthy and Mum doesn’t want sawdust in the house.”
“That’s very considerate. I’m a little disappointed that you don’t strip purely for my benefit, but I’ll live. Can you sing now? Please?”
And now she wants me to strip for her. Fuck. I blew air through my nose and thought about my grandmother’s bunions. “I don’t have my guitar here.”
“Borrow one from the band.” She shrugged.
Grabbing my hand before I could say no, she led me through the crowd to the stage. We waited off to the side for the song to finish. Her warm hand stayed in mine, not letting go. I didn’t want her to let go. Ever. At that moment she wasn’t my friend’s little sister, or Michael’s friend. She was ... what? My friend? Nah, friends didn’t mess with my insides like she was doing. She was mine. I wanted her to be mine.
The song cut off and she stepped up onto the side of the stage, beckoning the lead guitarist. “Hey. You guys sound awesome. Thanks for entertaining us. Do you mind if Ben plays some guitar and sings for us? Just one song?”
“Is he any good?”
“Of course. He’s brilliant.”
I dropped my gaze to the crown of her head. She had no idea what she was talking about. Nor could she possibly know how much her faith in me meant. I stretched my neck before pulling my shoulders back. I’d played in front of a crowd before. The revellers here probably wouldn’t give a crap if I was good or bad because most of them were off their faces.
“What do you wanna play?” The guy handed me a Fender.
“‘Use Somebody’ by Kings of Leon.”
“Great song. C major, right?”
I nodded.
“This is Jack on drums, Nick on bass, and Stevie on the keyboards.” He pointed to each member as he introduced them. “I’m Caleb.”
“Ben. Thanks for this, mate.” I shook hands all ’round before hooking the guitar strap over my head. Strumming a chord, I checked that the guitar was in an open C. Perfect. I turned to the drummer. “Count us in?”
He smacked his sticks together, counting one, two, three, four before the music roared through the speakers. His drumsticks flew and I nodded to the beat as I played the intro. Spinning around for the first verse, I leaned into the mic and opened my mouth. My eyes found Andy as I sang about wanting someone like her. She was lit up like a neon sign that said, ‘Here she is, ya dope. What took you so long?’
It was getting easier to forget how we’d met each other. This Andy, the grown-up flirty version, she pulled at me to dig under the surface and get to know her on every level. The huge smile she aimed at me was a dare to walk a forbidden path.
She was only sixteen ...
She was my mate’s sister ...
She is mine.
_____
Andrea
Rockhampton, Australia
7th of November 2008, 10:32 p.m.
After his performance, Ben and I dragged a couple of camping chairs into a quiet corner. I nursed a pretty decent buzz from having two beers and watching my crush rock out on stage. My heart was still thumping, but that could also have been because there we were, hiding in a dark corner, basically alone. I’d known he’d be good. And that song, sung in his deep, gritty voice, had me heating up at my core.
My instincts had told me to get him onstage. I always listened to my instincts. They’d also told me to get him alone in this corner. He didn’t seem to mind. He seemed to love it, actually. Slumping down, we tipped our heads back to watch the galaxy roll on by.
“I have another talent,” I muttered to the sky.
“What is it?”
“I’m a space nut. Ask me something.”
His teeth flashed in the dim light. “Which one is our closest star?”
“Alpha Centauri. Hang on, where’s the Southern Cross?” I scanned the sky, pointing when I’d found it. “There. So Alpha Centauri and Beta Centauri are the bright stars to the left of it. They’re both triple star systems, actually.”
“Really? Which one is the brightest star?”
“Sirius. J.K. Rowling should have named Sirius Black, Sirius Bright, but that would’ve ruined the surprise. And anyway, our neighbouring planets usually look brighter than the stars.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. When I was a kid, I used to make a wish on the first star I saw at dusk. I didn’t realise until later that I was probably wishing on Venus.”
“The goddess of love. That’s not so bad.”
“Oh, that’s perfect. I didn’t think of that.”
“What did you wish for?” He twisted his head to take me in.
I met his stare. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Why not?”
I refocused on the cosmos. “Because I’m still waiting for it to come true.”
“Hm.” Heaving himself up, he slid his bottom back in the seat and rested his elbows on his knees. “Can I ask you about something? Tell me to mind my own business if it’s too personal.”
Uh-oh. “Shoot.”
“Why did you ghost for two years? Where were you?”
Huh. He noticed. “I was processing.”
“Processing?”
It was hard for me to bring up those memories. I’d gone from bright and bubbly to emo in the space of a few days. At the time, I’d let my anger over Jess’s death consume me. I’d stopped dancing. I’d stopped going to watch Stewart play. And, yeah, watching Kelly paw at Ben had tipped me over. I wasn’t going to tell him that I had been ridding myself of my addiction to him as well.
Jealousy was a sign of insecurity. There was never a reason to be jealous of anyone. I understood that now. I was born the way I was for a reason. I would never be someone else and no one could ever be me. The right partner would see sunbeams shooting from my arse, so I didn’t need to worry. If something was meant for me, it would come when the timing was spot on and not a second sooner.
What I’d had to do was let go of my expectations. Expectations were sneaky fuckers that could ruin a perfectly good twist of fate.
I slapped at the back of my neck as pain sank its stinger into my flesh. This was no insect bite. I only experienced this when my senses pinged, warning me of bad juju. It was the same feeling I’d had just before
Jess disappeared. My eyes scanned the crowd. There were still as least sixty people milling around. Many of them familiar to me from school and rugby.
Was her killer at the party?
Did I know him? Or her?
Him.
The pain receded almost as fast as it came. I had no way of searching for the possible killer without my sense as a guide. Fuck.
“Andy?” Ben’s question yanked my attention away.
I would have to let it go for now. It could have been a warning about something else.
What were we talking about? Oh, right. “Yes. Processing losing my friend. But I had some growing up to do, too.”
“I think you succeeded.” He snared me in his gaze for the longest moment.
Any dark thoughts instantly cleared under his scrutiny. My breath caught in my throat. “Thank you.” Heat rushed to my cheeks and it wasn’t from the alcohol. “You’ve done all right in that department, too.” Hadn’t he ever. He was bigger now. The manual labour was doing all the right things for his body. But more importantly, he seemed to have his shit together. He was putting in the effort to get what he wanted out of life and that was fucking sexy. “Congrats on getting the apprenticeship.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“It’s hard work, but yeah, I do. I like working with my hands. I’m gaining insight into considerations when designing a structure.”
“When do you plan on starting uni?”
“Maybe in a few years. It means a move to Brisbane and I’m not ready to leave Adam yet. I want to watch my little brother grow up.”
A mix of emotions washed through me. He was leaving. I’d figured he would need to, but hearing confirmation took a chunk out of my heart. I wanted him to succeed and follow his dreams. If that meant we had to part, so be it. I adored that he was putting his degree on hold to get some experience in the industry, and to strengthen his bond with his little brother.
“He’s hilarious. Love that kid.”
A grin spread across Ben’s face. “He’s the best.”
You’re the best.
“What about you?”
“I want to be an early childhood teacher.”
“I can see you doing that.”
“Thanks.” If I wanted to say anything more, I couldn’t because my mouth was hijacked by a yawn.
“You’re tired.” He pulled out his phone, the screen casting a blue light over his features. “It’s eleven-seventeen. Do you want a lift home? I’m taking Stew anyway.”
Would I like to ride shotgun with you in your car? Um, yes. For life.
Settle, petal. He’s not offering. And expectations, remember? “Yeah, sure. Thanks. I’m at Mum’s, though. Stewart is going to Dad’s. Is that okay?”
“Whatever. I’ll drop you wherever you’ve gotta go.”
“Okay. I’ll go say goodbye. Give me five minutes. Maybe ten.”
_____
Ben
Rockhampton, Australia
7th of November 2008, 11:22 p.m.
I found Stewart asleep in a deck chair near the stage. The band had clocked off about an hour ago and Johnno’s mum had cranked up the stereo on the back patio as their replacement. I shook his shoulder. “Stew. Wake up, mate. It’s time to go.” His head lolled to the other side and he let out a snore. He was out cold. Damn. Lifting his arm, I pulled his weight forward and bent him over my shoulder in a fireman’s lift. “Don’t vomit down my back.” I passed Johnno on the way out. “Thanks for having us. Stew says bye.”
“No worries. Catch ya later.”
After unlocking the ute, I opened the back before strapping on his seat belt. “If you spew in my car, I will make you clean it out with a toothbrush.” I got nothing but a snore in response. “Okay, then.” I slammed the door shut and took a seat behind the wheel. Fiddling with the stereo, I tried to find a decent song before giving up and putting in a Foo Fighters CD.
The passenger side opened and Andy slid inside. “Hey. Thanks for waiting.”
The moment she shut the door, the confined space seemed half the size. Or maybe it was that I felt twice as full—I didn’t know. Being around her was opening my eyes to something that needed to be explored. Her scent filled the car with a sweet floral honey. Lickable. Damn.
“Not a problem.” I shifted in the seat before turning the key in the ignition.
I drove under the speed limit just so I could take her in for as long as possible. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. I caught the rise and fall of every laboured breath in my peripheral vision. The way she wedged her hands between her thighs. The nervous jiggle of her knee that was out of time with the tempo of the music. Did she notice my white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and the strain of tendons in my neck? I would’ve loved to reach across, put my palm on her thigh in those tight jeans. I thought about pulling over, kicking her brother out, sliding her across the centre console and sitting her on my lap. My jeans were way too fucking tight.
Fucking concentrate on the road. Jesus.
From Scrubby Creek, we headed north on the Bruce Highway to make our way home. Which meant we had to pass through the roundabout where the Brahman bull statue welcomed people to Rocky. And there he was. I never understood why they faced his back end towards the outskirts of town. Nobody I knew ever said welcome with their back turned.
“Pull over!” Stewart barked from the back.
“No.” Fucking way.
Andy twisted in her seat, wide-eyed. “Are you gonna spew?”
“Shit.” I chucked the gear box down to second, skidding to a stop on the grass.
He fumbled with his seat belt before yanking the door open. Falling out onto the grass, he blew chunks over the nature strip.
She blinked at me, her mouth set in a grimace. “At least he gave you some warning. I hope he didn’t get it on the car.”
“I already warned him he’d be cleaning it if he did.”
“Stewart? Cleaning? You’ve seen his room, right?”
“We generally stick to the lounge when I visit.”
She raised her brows. “Solid plan.”
A minute later, some rattling came from the tray of the Hilux. “What is he doing?”
The rear-view mirror showed Stewart wandering off with what appeared to be my bolt cutters in his hand. “No fucking way.”
“What?”
“He’s going for the balls.”
“I’m sorry?” She twisted to look out the back window.
I undid my seat belt. “The bull’s balls. He’s taking them.”
“Oh, shit. Are there any cameras around here?”
“Dunno. But if there are, they’ve got my number plate and tyre tracks.”
“Stupid bloody tosser.” She opened her door.
“You said it, not me.”
We both hopped out and followed him down the road.
“Stewart, don’t be an idiot,” I bit out.
“If you know Stewart at all, you know that’s an impossibility.” Andy rolled her eyes.
“I can hear you,” he threw over his shoulder.
“I know,” she sang back.
I’d missed this. The love bombs coated in insults flying between them. None of their ammo was ever intended to inflict any damage. I could kick back with some popcorn and watch for hours. I hadn’t known what my life had been lacking until she’d shown up again. And weirdly, this was a part of it.
“Andy, you cover the spotlight.” He let out a ripper of a burp, taking a second before the rest of his instructions tumbled from his mouth. “Ben, help me out with the cutters. My arms aren’t workin’ right.”
“Gee, I wonder why?” Andy returned.
His legs seemed to tangle as he crossed the road to get to the middle of the roundabout.
“Jesus, we might be scraping him off the bitumen if a car comes screaming around the bend.” I shook my head, grabbed Andy’s hand, and dashed after him. Luckily the road was pretty deserted at this time of n
ight.
Finding him hunched over with his head between the bull’s back legs, he worked the bolt cutter on the chain that attached the balls to the statue.
Andy propped her hands on her hips. “I thought they were putting steel rods through all the boy’s bits?”
“They are. This one hasn’t been done yet.” I scanned the area, looking for a camera. Maybe they were hidden. If I copped a fine, Stewart was going to be the one paying it.
“Lucky me!” Stewart chimed as he finally broke through the metal and held up his prize.
“Congratulations, Stewart. You finally have a set of balls,” Andy said in the driest tone.
“Oi.” Stewart held the concrete set to his chest
I snorted, a smile splitting my face. This girl.
“Let’s go.” Andy took off back to the car.
“You guys are killjoys.” Stewart tripped over his own feet, just catching himself before he fell.
I spun my keys on my finger as we crossed the road. “Feel free to walk home, Stew.”
“Nah, I’m good.”
His sister coughed. “Biggest lie I’ve heard in a while.”
We got to the car. “Don’t step in the vomit, Spew,” his sister reminded him.
Love bomb.
“Ah, shit. Too late.”
Fuck.
“Sit your arse on the seat and take your shoes off.” I tossed a plastic bag onto his lap.
“I got it, I got it.”
“He got spew on his shoe, is what he got.” Andy giggled. “Stew got spew on his shoe.” She put a hand over her face, pressing her temples. “Ah, I crack myself up.”
“All good.” Stewart dropped the bag on the floor and shut his door before pointing at the road ahead. “Home, James.”
I dropped Stewart at his dad’s, personally depositing him face down on his mattress. Making my way back to the ute, I swiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. Andy was changing the CD when I shut us inside with a snap.
It was just me and Andy, and a palpable tension so thick it needed its own name. Visions of slick palms pressed against fogged windows entered my mind and I had to adjust my jeans to give myself more room. The way the seat belt cut across her chest accentuated her assets even more. Cranking the engine, I dialled up the air conditioning and pointed the vents right at my face.