All the Ways to Here

by Emily O'Beirne

  “No, smart-ass.”

  She doesn’t have to look at him to know he’s smiling. “Okay, then, does she know how to use proper grammar and punctuation?”

  He laughs. “No. Well, I’d ask both those eventually, but not yet.”

  “What, then?”

  “Is she special?

  “That’s kind of a cheesy TV-dad question coming from you,” she says.

  “Can’t help it. I just have a feeling it needs to be asked.”

  How does he know that? She hasn’t spoken much about Willa this weekend. Even though she’s thought about her. A lot. “Yeah, she is.”

  “Good. I hope I get to meet her.”

  “Well, if you ever plan on coming home, you might.”

  Her words drop like weight between them. She clenches her jaw and waits for him to fill the silence with a response. He doesn’t. All she sees in his reaction is that same clenched jaw and the tightening around his eyes he’d get after a fight with her mother.

  Guilt makes her veer topics. “And, FYI, I don’t know who she’d vote for, but I can tell you that even her text messages are painfully grammatically correct.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.” He smiles but keeps his eyes fixed on the water.

  A tourist boat lurches in to dock on the other side of wharf, the cartoonish sound of its horn filling the air. Windblown tourists step off the gangplank and turn straight for the markets. A little girl chases a seagull, screeching louder than the bird she’s terrorising.

  “So, how’s your mum?”

  “You should ask her yourself.”

  “I do. We talk most days.”

  Finn has to work to cover her surprise. “Well…good.”

  “I miss her a lot.”

  “Good,” she says again. Then she looks him square in the eye so he can’t avoid her this time. “So when are you coming back?”

  Another silence hangs. “I don’t know yet.”

  “Well, hurry up and know.” She stands. “We should get going. My flight’s soon.”

  He stares up at her. “I’m sorry, Finno.”

  “Yeah, you both keep saying that.” She folds her arms and watches another boat coming in. “But you know it doesn’t really help, right?”

  “I know.”

  “Then let’s go.” She turns and walks towards the car without waiting for him.

  CHAPTER 11

  Willa

  Amira’s late.

  “She had some fight with her brother about him driving her here or something,” Eva tells Willa as she leads her to the living room.

  Eva’s family’s apartment is light and white and display-home tidy. Kind of like Eva. Or so Willa thinks until she witnesses Eva’s room.

  “I know,” Eva mumbles as she hunts out her textbook from a towering pile on her desk. “It’s a mess. Believe it or not, I tidy it all the time. But it just ends up this way again.”

  “This way” is catastrophic. Like, Riley-level catastrophic—if Willa let Riley have her piggy way. There are piles of clothes on every surface, and books and papers and girl stuff wherever there are not. And, for reasons Willa can’t fathom, a potted palm sits in a dish in the middle of what may or may not be a rug under the piles of crap.

  She’s staring at it when Eva turns around. “Oh yeah, I haven’t quite decided where that should go yet.”

  Willa wants to say, “So putting it in the middle of the room seemed like a good idea?” but doesn’t. She stares at Eva’s impeccable hair and outfit. How did that come into being in this hell-den? It seems scientifically implausible.

  They arrange their books on a large table in the living room, where leafy tropical plants nudge the windows and a small deck overlooks a park.

  The apartment is silent. At this time of day, Willa’s house would be alive with sound. Nan’s talkback radio. Riley singing. Jack’s games. Footsteps running up and down the stairs. She’s not sure she would know how to live in such calm.

  Eva brings in a plate of biscuits and dried fruit from the kitchen. “Mum and Dad are still at work. Jason’s in Thailand.” She pushes the plate closer to Willa.

  “Thanks.” Willa takes a dried apricot, biting into its sunshine taste. “What’s he doing?”

  “Nothing. Being a professional slacker.”

  Sounds like Kelly’s brother. Except Dave’s idea of doing nothing is gaming and smoking until his eyes fall out, not holidaying in exotic locations. Willa’s sure he would do it that way if he could afford it.

  The minute Amira arrives, she grabs a biscuit and launches into an epic tale of her fight with her brother.

  It’s kind of entertaining, how chaotic and extravagant Amira is. Especially for someone who looks so high-maintenance, with her overblown eye make-up and just-been-to-the-salon hair. She rants through her mouthful of biscuit, her story long and loud and jam-packed with “then he said” and “so I said”. Eva just listens, like she’s used to it, rearranging the snack plate around Amira’s grazing.

  Finally, Willa checks her phone. There’s only an hour before she has to catch her bus back and take Riley to the pools for swimming lessons. She starts chewing her lip, wondering if the story will ever end.

  “Hey, come on, Mir. We should get started,” Eva says finally. “Willa’s only got a little time.” She grabs a pencil and then frowns. “Crap, I forgot my vocab. I’ll be back in a sec.” She dashes off to her room.

  Amira gives Willa a sly grin. “Did you see it?” She points towards Eva’s bedroom.

  Willa nods.

  “It’s terrifying, isn’t it?”

  “What’s terrifying?” Eva asks as she sits back down with her book.

  “Nothing.” Amira’s all innocence.

  Eva turns to Willa, eyes narrowed. “What was she saying?”

  “She just asked if I’d seen your room.”

  “And what did you say?”

  Willa purses her lips.

  “It’s okay. Stop being polite. You can say it.”

  “I don’t know how you find your way out of it in the mornings. That’s what my nan would say.”

  “Yeah, it’s next level,” Amira says. “They could make a whole season of a reality show about cleaning that pigsty. A total makeover while you confront your inner-hoarder-chaos monkey.” Then she jumps and shimmies, veering to another topic as only Amira knows how to do. “Hey, Will, how’s it going with your little blonde? Have you seen her since we got back?”

  “Little blonde?” Eva says before Willa can. “You are a testament to feminism. Her name is Finn.”

  Amira sighs loudly, like now Eva’s the one wasting time. “How is Finn?” she asks dutifully.

  “She’s good,” Willa replies.

  “So it’s on? You’re all serious and stuff?”

  “I guess.” Willa shrugs. “We went out on Friday. And I’m supposed to meet her mum this week.”

  “Oh, wow. That’s serious. Mothers hate me. Something about me just screams bad influence, apparently.”

  “Maybe your mouth?” Eva suggests.

  Willa can’t help laughing, even though she’s found herself playing third wheel to yet another best friendship. It’s Kelly and Maida all over again.

  Amira slaps Willa’s leg. “Don’t worry. As long as her mum’s okay with the gay bit, she’ll totally love you. I mean, what’s not to love? You’re a parent’s wet dream. All mature and responsible and academic leader-y.”

  “She’s totally right,” Eva tells her.

  Willa hopes so. She’s been trying not think about the dinner invite, sent by the Finn Mother herself. Just the thought makes her all fluttery, and not in the good way.

  When she checks her watch, another ten minutes have slid by. “Guys, we really need to get started.” How can she explain everything she needs to do when she gets home? How she can’t just rock up twenty minutes late, and everything will be okay?

  “Yeah, we do,” Eva says. “Mir, anything else you just need to get out of your system before we star
t?”

  “Me?” Amira looks wounded for a split second. “No, well, except did you hear about Georgia B? She—”

  “Stop!” Eva pushes Amira’s textbook at her. “Don’t worry,” she tells Willa. “She’s actually really good when she finally gets started.”

  “She’d better be,” Willa mutters. “I need the marks.”

  “Ooh, I’ve poked the bear!” Amira opens her textbook and dutifully picks up her pen. “I promise I’ll be good. Kitto umaku ikuyo!”

  Willa has no idea what she’s saying, and she’s not sure if that’s a good sign or not.

  CHAPTER 12

  Finn

  Dan’s girlfriend Rosie may be a sweetie, but she sucks at introductions. When they arrive at the big brick building, she just flaps her hands at the small crowd sitting around the boardroom table and says, “Everybody, this is Finn. Finn, this is everybody.” Then she darts off to chat to an older guy standing by an ancient photocopier.

  The community centre is a partitioned section of some sort of larger warehouse space, like it used to be the office for a factory. Somewhere beyond them, Finn can hear thuds and bangs and a weird grinding sound. Maybe it still is a factory.

  She’s standing and staring, hands thrust in pocket, when a girl with a short shock of curly black hair and the biggest hoop earring Finn’s ever seen on a human smiles and gestures at a seat next to her. She’s mid-diatribe at a guy at the end of the table, though, and doesn’t stop when Finn sits beside her.

  A group of ten kids around Finn’s age sits at the table, chatting and waiting for the meeting to start. She wonders if the boy talking to the black-haired girl is Rosie’s twin. He’s the only other Asian kid there, and he has the same delicate Cupid’s bow and high cheekbones as Rosie.

  “Hi there.” The girl that leans over the table towards Finn is a welcome splash of colour in the industrial bland of the warehouse. She has brown eyes, ringed with the kind of eye make-up that pulls them surprised wide. Her dress is peacock blue, her lips a deep fuchsia pink.

  “Hi. I’m Finn.”

  “I’m Bea.” She points to a girl next to her. “And this is Nona.” She curls a pale arm around the much smaller girl’s neck. Nona looks up from her phone, wraps her arms around Bea, and kisses her cheek. “Say hi to Finn,” Bea tells her between kisses.

  Nona readjusts her cap over her short hair, eyes Finn up and down, and nods. “Hi.”

  “Hey.” There’s a brief silence as the three of them appraise each other. “I love your dress,” Finn says to Bea.

  “Thanks.” Bea smooths her fingers over the deep neckline. “I made it myself.” She rolls her eyes. “Plus-size designers seem to think fat girls only like floral or neon. Why is that?”

  Finn laughs. “No idea.”

  “Neither do I.” Bea leans forward. “But thanks for laughing. Most people get funny when I used the dreaded F word.”

  “I’ve never seen you here before,” Nona says suddenly to Finn. It sounds like an accusation.

  “You haven’t. I only just heard about this place when Rosie invited me to the meeting.”

  “Rosie’s recruiting?” Bea raises an eyebrow. “For a het, she’s the biggest gay enabler I know.”

  “I used to be so sure she just didn’t know she was gay yet, but now she’s got this boyfriend, apparently.” Nona wrinkles her nose. “Gross.”

  “A boyfriend who’s my best friend,” Finn tells her.

  Nona screws up her lips, as if to say “noted”, and then sits back, arms folded, eyeing her again. And Finn can’t tell if her stare is hostile, flirty, or just plain rude.

  There’s a silence. Finn hunts down some conversation. “So, Rosie says they want to close this place down?”

  “Which would suck,” Bea says. “I’ve been coming here for a year, and it’s amazing. Not everyone’s here today, but during school holidays there’s a heap of us, and we do some really cool stuff.” She jerks her thumb at Nona. “This one’s been coming here since she was, like, twelve.”

  Nona nods. “Best place to hide from my parents.”

  “They’re really not okay with the gay,” Bea tells her.

  “Really not okay,” Nona says. “I had to hide at a friend’s house for a week after I cut off my hair.”

  “Are they okay about it now?” Finn asks.

  “Hell no. But there’s nothing they can do.”

  “I’m lucky,” Bea says. “My dad’s somewhat cool. What about your parents?” Then she holds up a hand. “Oh, wait, you’re not straight, are you? I mean, it’s cool if you are. This place is open to “and friends”. But except for Rosie, it pretty much tends to be a queer catchment zone.”

  “I’m bi,” Finn says. “And except for a bigoted dinosaur of a grandmother, everyone’s pretty cool.”

  Nona sits up. “Hey, I heard a great joke the other day. What’s the best thing about being bisexual?”

  “What?” Bea asks while Finn grits her teeth.

  “Double chance of a date on Saturday night.”

  Bea pulls a face. “That’s not a good joke. Who told you that was a good joke?”

  “Me.” Nona pouts. “It is a good joke.”

  “No, it’s lame.”

  Nona turns to Finn. “You liked it, right?”

  “Not even the first time I heard it,” Finn tells her.

  “Ha.” Bea jabs a finger into Nona’s side. “See?”

  Nona folds her arms and digs her chin into her chest. “Whatever.”

  “Aw, baby’s sad because no one likes her joke,” Bea coos. She leans in and kisses Nona’s cheek over and over until Nona melts, giggles, and grabs her. Next thing Finn knows, they’re so deep in PDA, she has to look the other way.

  When they’re done, and Nona’s bouncy and kiddish and pleased with herself again, she turns back to Finn. “So, are you more into girls or guys?” She wags an eyebrow up and down.

  Why does Finn get the feeling she’s asking this more to get a rise than out of actual curiosity? “It doesn’t really work like that.”

  “But you must—”

  “Hey, sorry.” Rosie drops into the seat next to Finn. “I had to talk to Costa about something before the meeting. You okay?” She waves a hand at Bea and Nona. “You’ve met these guys?”

  “Don’t worry, we took care of her,” Bea says. “Nona’s currently interrogating her about her sexuality, but I planned to intervene before she got too nosy or ridiculous.”

  “Too late,” says the earrings girl, joining the conversation. “I heard that terrible joke.”

  Nona holds her hands up. “Look, I just never got bisexuality, okay?”

  “What’s for you to get, dipshit?” Earring Girl leans over the table and slaps Nona’s cap down over her face. “I don’t get why you baby dykes have to act like mouthy little teenage boys just because you dress like them.”

  Nona cackles and readjusts her hat. “At least I don’t think hula hoops are jewellery.”

  “Ooh, them’s fighting words,” says the boy who may or may not be Rosie’s brother. He grins at Finn. “Welcome! I’m Andy.” Case closed. He points at Earring Girl. “And she’s Kayah.”

  Bea grins at Finn. “And we’re just one big happy family.”

  “I’m sensing that,” Finn says.

  ~ ~ ~

  Finn traipses home from the community centre, exhausted and strangely charmed by the bombastic little bunch of people she just met. They spent the hour brainstorming ideas to attract attention to the centre’s plight, and even though they didn’t come up with anything, she’s already tempted to go to the next meeting.

  Actually, maybe it’s because they didn’t come up with anything. If there’s one thing Finn can’t resist, it’s a challenge. And it’s kind of fun talking to other gay kids. Finn doesn’t really know any of the handful at her school, except to say hi,

  Her phone starts ringing as she turns into her street. It’s Anna. Finn picks up, grinning. “Yes, hello, who is this please?”

&
nbsp; “Very funny. I’m so sorry we haven’t caught up. Worst sister in the world.”

  “Half-sister,” Finn reminds her.

  “Oh, that hurts.”

  “Okay, you don’t completely suck. Not yet.”

  “My excuse is that I’ve been on night shift. And believe me when I tell you I’ve now seen enough babies being born. Thrill’s gone.”

  “I don’t know if it would ever have been there for me.” Finn stops and sniffs a fat orange rose listing over a fence.

  “I feel really bad,” Anna says. “I haven’t even spoken to you about what’s happening with Dad and your mum—which I only just found out about when I rang Dad the other night, by the way. I’m so sorry, Finn. It must suck.”

  “It does. A lot.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay. Just scared.”

  “They’re solid. They’ll figure it out.”

  Finn plucks at a dry leaf, rubbing it to pieces between her fingers. “I hope so.”

  “Look, let’s meet up sooner rather than later. How about Friday? I’ll have slept all day, so I might be a bit groggy, but we can grab dinner before I have to go back on shift?”

  “I can’t. Willa, this girl I met at camp is coming over to dinner. You know how my mum likes to do the embarrassing invite-them-for-dinner thing?”

  “You met someone? Anything else major that I should know about? Any career changes?”

  “No. That’s it, I promise.”

  What about Sunday night?”

  “Sure,” Finn says. “That’d be great.”

  “Great I’ll see you then. I gotta go to work.”

  Finn hangs up, smiling. Because she cannot wait to see Anna. Because no matter what Finn says to Anna, she’ll get it. She always does. Finn didn’t even know she was missing out on having a sister until she found out she had one. Now she wouldn’t give it up for anything.

  There’s no sign of life when she reaches her house. No lamplight or flickering blue promise of the television shining between the curtains. Her mum’s at work late again.

  Staring at the darkened windows, she wishes she’d gone to Dan’s for dinner. Too late now.

  CHAPTER 13