It was sent a few hours ago. I scan down the list of my friends until I see West. There’s a green dot next to his name. It’s midnight and he’s awake. He must still have insomnia.
An icon comes up telling me that West is typing and a minute later his reply appears.
I roll out of bed and change into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I don’t know where Dad keeps the torches so my phone will have to do. Next minute, I’m downstairs and slipping out the door. What am I doing? This is crazy. I can’t just sneak out in the middle of the night with West. But here I am.
West’s car is not out the front, so I sit on the steps and wait. It’s cloudy so I can’t see any stars. For some reason, I find this really disappointing.
The more I think about it, the more certain I am that Indiana wrote the note. She made sure West knew about it and made it look like she was concerned for me. West probably won’t believe it, though. I don’t know why it bothers me so much. I shouldn’t care what West thinks of me or what he thinks of Indiana.
A few minutes later, his car pulls up. I hurry down the driveway, hoping the headlights don’t wake my parents. The first thing I see when I get in the car is West’s smile. And for the first time that day, I feel relaxed.
I want to ask where we’re going but instead I settle back into my seat and watch West drive. Soon after, he turns off the main road and onto an unsealed road lined with trees and scrub. I look at him and cock my head to the side. ‘Trust me,’ he says. He drives a bit further and pulls over. ‘We have to walk the rest of the way. Did you bring a torch?’
I hold up my phone. West shakes his head. ‘Luckily I brought a spare.’ He hands me a small black torch.
I feel a rush of excitement, like anything is possible. We get out of the car and turn on our torches. I shine the beam on the ground in front of me and then up a tall gum.
‘This way,’ says West, taking my hand. I let him guide me through the trees and into the bush. I wonder what part of the national park it is. There are always so many questions I can’t ask. Despite not knowing where I am, I’m strangely calm. I could never have imagined that I would be so relaxed in the middle of nowhere in the dark, but I realise that I trust West.
At night, the bush is so different – the air is filled with the screeching of bats and trees rustle with the movement of hidden creatures. The bush does really come alive at night. I feel really alive on this night.
‘It’s not much further,’ says West.
We’re not following a path or anything but he seems to know where he’s going. When we come to a large rock face, he stops. I shine my torch onto the rock, revealing a narrow opening. I look at the entrance of the cave and then at West. Is that where he wants to take me? Is he crazy?
West squeezes my hand. ‘Trust me.’
The light of our torches illuminates the interior of the cave incredibly well. It’s about three metres across and goes on further than I can see. The walls are plain rock and there’s a trickle of water running across the ground. Overall, there’s nothing special about it. West guides me further into the cave. The rocks are slippery from the water so I grip his hand tighter, hoping I don’t slip.
‘Okay, I think that’s far enough. Turn your torch off.’
The cave turns to complete blackness and I’ve never known a place could be so dark. The only way I know West is still there is from the warmth of his hand.
‘Wait for it.’
Out of nowhere tiny pinpricks of light appear in the darkness above us. The pinpricks start to become brighter until they look like stars with a green hue. But they’re not stars. They are glow-worms, hundreds of glow-worms. I’ve never seen anything like it. If only West could see my face right now.
‘I sometimes come here when I can’t sleep,’ says West. ‘It helps me think, or not think.’
He’s right. Here, all my problems seem so far away. And West seems so close. Even though I can’t see him, my body turns towards him like he’s the ocean current and I’m a piece of broken shell.
‘You’re like no one I’ve ever met before,’ he says. ‘But I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.’
Instead of wishing I could say something, all I’m wishing is that West would kiss me. I never knew there could be a stronger desire than the desire to speak. West lets go of my hand and then I feel his hands gently on my shoulders before they feel their way up the side of my face. His fingertips trace across my features, as if learning my face in the dark. Then his lips brush against mine. They’re feather-light and warm. The kiss is gentler than I thought possible but at the same time it feels like I’ve been picked up by a massive wave. The rush. The intensity. The way my heart beats faster than it’s ever beaten before.
I kiss West back. He reaches both hands behind my head and weaves his fingers in my hair. We kiss, tangled up in each other. I don’t know how long it lasts, but it feels like a second and an eternity all at once.
When we separate we’re both slightly breathless.
‘I probably should get you home.’
I nod, even though he can’t see me in the dark, even though I could keep kissing him all night.
West turns on his torch and the glow-worms disappear, but nothing else changes. Our foreheads press together and I can feel his warm breath. ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he says.
I blush, wishing that I could thank him for bringing me here and showing me this place. Instead I kiss him again.
Oh shit.
I’ve overslept.
It’s a school day. That means seeing West.
Oh shit.
What am I going to do when I see him? Did the kiss really happen last night? What does it mean? Are we now together? I don’t know how to be that girl who is kissed goodbye at her locker and meets her boyfriend between classes.
I get out of bed and start getting dressed, but I can’t find anything I need: clean socks, my skirt, even a goddam bobby pin.
This is worse than the first day at school. At least then, I was prepared, because I’d gone through it so many times in my head. When I got home last night, I fell asleep before I could think about what it all meant. Was the kiss a mistake? What if West now regrets it? I can’t sit at home, wondering. I grab yesterday’s skirt out of the washing basket and give up on the bobby pin, leaving my hair hanging loose.
The bus pulls up just as I come around the corner. I run for it because I know this bus driver waits for no one, especially not a girl who can’t call out wait. I just make it in time. The driver gives me an exasperated look that follows me in the rear-view mirror until I plonk down into the seat next to Tanvi.
‘You look different,’ says Tanvi, narrowing her eyes at me.
Do I really look different because of last night? It’s not like I lost my virginity or anything. I shrug and try not to blush.
‘How did you go yesterday? Was the gate unlocked?’
I nod.
‘Did you get caught?’
I shake my head.
Tanvi starts telling me about the drama she’s having with her parents because they don’t want her going to university in Melbourne, but I’m only vaguely listening. I keep thinking about West and what it will be like when I see him.
What is the chance of a minor, non-fatal bus accident that gets us to school late?
We get to school on time, a few minutes early actually, and West is waiting at my locker when I get there.
‘Hey,’ he says, standing close to me. I could lean forwards and kiss him, but I don’t. I just smile instead. Part of me relaxes at the sight of him and the feelings from last night return.
West fiddles with his bag strap. ‘Was everything okay after I dropped you off last night? You didn’t get caught, did you?’
I shake my head to the last question.
‘That’s good.’ West looks down at the ground. ‘Look, I wanted to tell you that last night wasn’t just something that happened. I want it to be the start of something. Is that what you want?’
> I bite my lip. It’s never just a matter of what I want. I want to be able to say hi back to him, to anyone, but it doesn’t happen just because of desire. Of course, I want it to be the start of something. But what will everyone say? How can it last? Is it worth the almost-certain heartbreak?
I look into West’s eyes. I know what they remind me of now. They’re the colour of a shallow stream: brown, green and yellow, like the stones beneath the clear water. I nod in answer to his question. Clearly, I’ve lost my mind.
‘I’ve got to see Mrs Edwards at recess about the English assignment,’ says West, ‘but maybe we could have lunch together?’
This is exactly what I was dreading. I certainly don’t want to have lunch with West and the Royals, but having lunch with West alone would be just as bad. I imagine the awkward silence, the minutes that stretch on forever. It sounds exhausting. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it won’t be as bad as I think. Tutoring is working, sort of, and I never expected it would.
I nod again.
West smiles. Was there a flicker of hesitation in it? ‘How about I meet you at a table behind the hall? Do you know where that is?’
That area’s not where the Royals sit so I’m not sure what to make of that. It either means he also doesn’t want me to sit with the Royals or he knows that I won’t want to have lunch with them and is sparing me. My brain is going to explode from all the over-thinking.
The kiss on my cheek takes me entirely by surprise. ‘See you later,’ says West. Then, like that, he’s gone.
I walk to my first class in a bit of a daze. I should be happy. At least I know how West feels, or I think I do. Did he seem unsure about the whole lunch thing? Does he really want to have lunch with me or is he doing it out of obligation?
The homeroom bell goes but before heading to the science lab, I duck into the girls’ bathroom and splash cold water on my face. I look at my reflection in the mirror. I’m pretty. It’s not something I think about often, but it’s true. I’m not one of those pretty girls who finds silly faults in their looks. I have bigger issues than the size of my pores. The question is, would West like me if I wasn’t so pretty? What else does he like about me? It’s definitely not my witty remarks or the deep conversations we have. I squeeze my eyes shut and think about what Finn would say – I need to put the glass down. The thing is, I’m never just holding one glass. I’m balancing a heap of glasses.
The door opens and Indiana walks into the bathroom. ‘Hey, Piper,’ she says sweetly.
I force a smile and grab a paper towel to dry my face.
‘You know there’s a guy in Year Eleven who likes you,’ says Indiana, applying lipstick in the mirror. I didn’t think lipstick was allowed at school. ‘I heard him talking with his friends at his locker. I can’t remember his name. He’s the guy who wears glasses like Harry Potter. He gets called Potter Freak.’
I stare at Indiana. I know from the way she says freak that she was responsible for the Post-it note. I wish I could tell her where to go. The words boil inside me.
‘You should totally go out with him. You’d make a cute couple.’ Indiana turns to face me, her pink lips in a perfect smile.
I step forwards and grab the lipstick from between her fingers. I write on the mirror in big letters:
I toss the lipstick in the basin and walk out.
All morning I feel bad for the cleaner who will have to clean the lipstick off the mirror. Despite my guilt, a part of me feels satisfied that I showed Indiana I won’t just stand there silently and take her crap.
When the lunch bell goes, I head towards the hall and grab a table that’s partly shaded and furthest away from the other tables. It’s a quiet area and there’s only one other group who looks like Year Sevens.
West jogs over a few minutes later. ‘Sorry I’m late,’ he says, sitting down opposite me. ‘I had to grab lunch at the canteen.’ He pulls the plastic off a meat pie.
I unwrap my sandwich that Mum made.
‘So, how was your last class? Was it good?’
I nod.
‘I had geography. It’s a bit of a bludge. You’re in the other geography class, aren’t you?’
He’s sticking to yes and no questions to make it easy for me to answer. I consider getting out my notepad, but it feels so unnatural. At Peace Rock, we are able to communicate so well without the need for writing. This is different, stilted and awkward, which is exactly what I expected.
I nod. West keeps looking around. Of course he’s bored. I’m bored. Surely we’re not going to go through this every day. Or are we? There’s only one more week or so before the holidays. I knew this was a mistake. Even sitting with the Royals would be better than this.
West’s phone beeps with a message but he doesn’t check it. A few minutes later it beeps again and this time he takes it out of his pocket. ‘It’s just Indiana,’ he says, glancing at the screen. ‘Mrs Diaz wants us to be in charge of the yearbook committee, and Indiana won’t stop bugging me about organising the first meeting. She’s already put up a sign-up sheet and everything.’ West starts typing a reply. ‘I’m just going to tell her that we’ll do the meeting at lunch on Friday. You don’t mind, do you?’
I’m not sure if he means about texting Indiana or the meeting on Friday. I shake my head either way, but as I sit there and watch him text, I do mind. I mind a lot.
West finishes the message and puts his phone away. We sit for another few minutes in an awkward silence. Every now and then West asks another yes or no question, but it’s as though neither of us is fully trying. At last, the bell goes. I can practically hear West’s inner sigh of relief.
I’m standing in front of the senior’s noticeboard, looking at the yearbook committee sign-up sheet. There’s already about a dozen names on the list. I’ve been thinking about joining up since Wednesday. West had soccer practice at lunch yesterday so it meant that we didn’t have another painfully awkward lunch together. And I know he will be at the yearbook meeting at lunch today. I haven’t yet told West that I’m thinking of joining, in case I change my mind. The more I think about it, the more it seems like a good idea. I’ll get to spend more time with West, not exactly with him but around him. Plus, I’ve always wanted to be a journalist, so it makes perfect sense that I do something like this.
And of course, I can keep an eye on Indiana. I’m sure that won’t stop her flirting with West. In fact, it will probably make her flirt with him more, but it can’t be worse than what I will invent in my head if I’m sitting in the playground, eating lunch while the meeting is going on.
I write my name on the list. Beneath it, I write Tanvi’s name too. I haven’t asked her if she will come with me yet, but I’m pretty sure she will, even just for the first meeting.
As I’m walking to homeroom, I see Tanvi and I run to catch up with her. I quickly scribble a note. Something I’ve become very good at is writing and walking. It’s a bit like tapping your head and rubbing your belly at the same time.
‘Sure. Whose arse needs kicking?’ she says.
I laugh.
‘Okay, why not? It’s something I can put on a resume. When is it?’
‘All right, but I was really hoping to kick someone’s arse.’
I can’t imagine Tanvi kicking anyone’s arse, but I appreciate the sentiment. I give her a hug before running off to class.
Tanvi is waiting by her locker at the beginning of lunch. When we get to the meeting, West and Indiana are already there, along with some others. Tanvi looks at West and then gives me an I-can-see-what’s-going-on-here look. I shrug like I don’t know what she’s talking about.
We take a seat. I hazard a glance at West. He winks at me. I always thought winking was sleazy, but when West does it, it’s secretive and sweet. The look Indiana gives us is not as welcoming.
‘Hey, everyone,’ she says, standing up, ‘thanks for coming. I’m sure we’re all going to make a great team. There are a few past yearbooks on the table for you to pass around and have a look throug
h. I want our yearbook to be bigger and better. So the first thing we have to do is assign roles to everyone.’ Indiana extends her arm towards the whiteboard. ‘This is a rough idea of the different areas you can choose from. We will need quite a few writers, about five to six, wouldn’t you say, West?’
Every time Indiana says ‘West’ or ‘we’ my skin bristles. She even touches his arm every now and then.
‘That sounds about right,’ says West, staying seated.
‘Their job is, obviously, to write the articles. A lot of that will involve interviewing students and teachers. We also need at least one photographer, a couple of copy editors and a cover designer.’
As soon as Indiana mentioned interviewing people, I knew that job was out. I’d love to be the photographer, but they have to work with the writers, and I’ve never been great at partner work for obvious reasons. I could be a copy editor but that sounds really dull. The cover designer might be fun and I could still use my camera in the process of designing it.
‘So first off, any volunteers for writers?’
Quite a few hands go up. Indiana writes their names on the whiteboard. ‘Great. Thanks, people,’ she says. ‘That’s plenty. Now any photographers?’
Two people’s hands shoot up immediately. It goes on. Tanvi volunteers to be a copy editor. I almost put my hand up but the moment passes. While Indiana is writing the names of the copy editors on the board, Mrs Diaz walks in.
She happens to notice me straightaway. ‘Piper, it’s nice to see you here!’ she says, not attempting to mask the surprise in her voice. ‘So how’s everything going?’ she asks, addressing Indiana and West.
‘Great,’ says Indiana. ‘We’ve almost assigned all the roles, only cover designer is left. Any volunteers?’
I raise my hand hesitantly.
‘I’ll work with Piper,’ says West, immediately. He stands up, grabs another whiteboard marker and writes our names up. ‘That’s it,’ he says when he turns back to face everyone. ‘Great start, guys. I think the yearbook is going to be something we’ll all be very proud of.’
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