“C’mon, Ellie.” Joel extends his hands to pull me up to his seat. I shake my head. Everyone is looking. I’m going to make an idiot of myself.
“Please ...?” Joel wiggles the snake, and the crowd gets louder, the chants get faster. The whole cafeteria calls my name, looking at me, and yet for some strange reason, no one is laughing.
Yet.
“Ellie, Ellie, Ellie-Ellie-Ellie-Ellie ...”
I look at Joel’s open face, his honest pleading eyes. I think of the hot laps. Baby steps. I can do baby steps.
Slowly, I push to my feet. The crowd feeds off my movement, getting louder and faster again, and I step up to Joel. I extend my hand, and my voice is quiet against the roar of the crowd. “Promise you won’t let me fall?”
He ducks his head and whispers, “I will always catch you, Ellie. Always.”
I grip his forearm and pull myself up on the chair, standing flush beside him. The closeness of his body does funny things to mine. Then he hands me the snake, and for a moment both our hands are touching, and he has this excited grin on his face, and instead of feeling like an idiot, like a fraud, like someone who’s possibly about to fall off the chair and vomit, I feel—good. I’m on top of the world.
I quickly pop the snake into my mouth and the crowd goes silent. The only noise in the room is from the pinball machine and the music blasting from the café’s tinny speakers.
I twist. I turn. I push.
And then ...
I pull the knotted snake from my mouth and hold it above my head.
The crowd roars. It’s deafening. Some guy even lets out a wolf-whistle.
And there’s this weird gooey feeling inside me that’s actually kind of nice.
I jump off the seat and scamper back to my own as people come up to Joel and slap him on the back. He hands the waitress a card and tells her to put twenty beers on it, then joins me back at the table as if that didn’t just happen.
I stare at him, my eyes bugging.
“Are you mad?” he asks, a cheeky grin on his face.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m actually ... I’m actually feeling kind of good.”
“Then my job here is done. And when you go on stage later, it’ll be just like this. Quick. Good. Only with less guys asking me how you are at blow jobs after.”
I grab a fry and stab the air with it. “You are going to die a slow and miserable death.”
“Ha!” Joel barks. “But not before you perform on stage tonight. Speaking of, are you gonna ask your mother to come?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
I shake my head. He doesn’t understand. No one really does. “It’s ... I can’t ask Mum for favours, or even for a bit of extra cash when I need it. She’s always been so adamant that Dani and I pay our own way. That we forge our own lives outside of her house.” I pause, mulling over our family situation. “It’s why she asked Dani to move out as soon as she finished school.”
Joel squares his shoulders. “Really?”
I shrug. “It is what it is. She’s been through so much. When Dad died ... she broke down. For weeks she didn’t leave the house. Dani didn’t really leave her room.”
He looks deep into my eyes. “You were the glue that kept them together.”
The university café thrums, people drinking beers and carb-loading. A pinball machine competes with the punk band blasting from the speakers, and in the corner, a group of guys play ping-pong, the hollow clicks of the ball on the table a thumping soundtrack.
All these sounds are so much more obvious when we’re quiet.
All these sounds make the silence between us louder.
“So ...” I say, trying to think of something, anything to make this weird feeling between us shift. “Tell me more about your challenges. What have you done?”
Joel snaps out of it and leans forward, and it’s as if the weird moment never happened. “I guess we ran into each other when I was about halfway through,” he says, and holds out his hand as he begins counting. “So I had some obvious ones—drag racing, white-water rafting, streaking through the uni ...”
“I am so glad I didn’t get roped into that.” And a little disappointed I didn’t get to see it.
“Ha! I don’t know if I like the thought of half the campus seeing you naked,” he says, and the flirty banter is back. “There have been so many things. I had to make one thousand origami paper cranes for this cancer fundraiser thing that’s done for people still suffering from the effects of the atomic bomb in World War II—”
“Wow,” I breathe. Because that’s amazing. One thousand origami cranes would be no mean feat.
“It was ... I don’t want to sound like a total wanker, but it was kinda cool,” Joel says. “Then there was making my own gin at this distillery in the city, drinking my own gin that I made at a distillery in the city—”
“Oh God,” I say, imagining the quantities the challenge must have required to make it list-worthy.
“Oh God is right,” Joel laughs. “I still don’t think I can look at the stuff. Anyway, there has been a bunch. I’m up to number fifteen—or I guess sixteen, once you cross off ‘act in a public forum’,” he says.
“Who gave you that challenge?”
“My dad,” he says. “He’s going to be out there tonight.”
Blood rushes to my cheeks. When we were younger, Joel lived with his father, a high-flying lawyer. He was busy most of the time, and I’d only see him at the odd school function. Now he was in the audience? The first time I’ll see the rich Mr Henley again after all these years will be after I’ve acted? On a stage? In front of people?
“Hey, it’s okay.” Joel reaches across the table and takes my hand, and for a guy who’s not supposed to be making moves on a girl, he’s moving my heart so damn quickly. “He’s not scary. I promise.”
“I’ll be fine.” I straighten my spine. And I really want to be. Because being better, being stronger—Joel makes me feel as if I’m worth it. As if I’m good enough. “So tell me what else is left.”
“I have to enter a hot-dog eating contest, go camping under the stars, ride the dodge’em cars at the spring fair, get my motorbike license and—” He pauses, looking away, then meeting my gaze once more. “And my favourite is to go sky-diving.”
And for some strange reason, I have this inherent desire to do every single one of those things with him. Even though the thought of them petrifies me. Even though he hasn’t asked me to, and even though he isn’t even really my boyfriend.
He views life as a challenge, as a series of experiences—that’s worth joining in on. Life for Joel is a ride, and I desperately want to get on.
***
Standing backstage, my heart is in my throat. It’s stuck there, clogging my airways, and every time I hear the audience—and there is an audience, at least fifty-strong—cheer, I can’t suck in air. They’re going to be looking at me. Watching. Judging.
Mr Brickendorf calls our names, and Joel takes my hand. He feels so warm. Or maybe I feel so cold. I don’t know.
All I know is my earlier bravado from the cafeteria has vanished, and now I’m a shaking, quivering mess.
Joel starts to walk, but my feet don’t follow. They stay planted firmly on the ground.
My arm reaches the end of its extension and Joel turns around, a slight frown on his face. Then he steps closer, so close. He rests his forehead against mine and whispers those magical words that helped me so much before.
“I’ll catch you if you fall.”
Six words.
And yet they lace under me like a net, wrap around me like a blanket, weave through me like a song. I breathe those words. I let them consume me.
Because sometimes all we need to know is that someone will be there to do that.
I smile, and he smiles, and then we’re both smiling at each other and it doesn’t matter what happens out there. It doesn’t matter if I make an idiot of myself. Because I have this. I have us.
> “You ready?” Joel grins.
“Ready,” I whisper back, and this time I lead the charge out onto the stage. I’m no longer waiting in the wings.
Out there in the spotlight, everything changes again. I feel small, so small against so many eyes, and doubt creeps in. Voices in my head. Feelings of not being good enough. Of never being enough.
Then I look at Joel, and he smiles at me, his eyes retelling their message from earlier.
I speak.
And I soar.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Our piece goes off without a hitch. Neither of us forget our lines, we both follow the simple blocking Mr Brickendorf laid out for us, and I don’t vomit, pass out, or have to face the laughter and ridicule of the faceless audience, all who politely clap when the performance is over.
When the show is done we walk around to the front of the building, my hand still firmly clasped in Joel’s. It’s a place I never want to leave.
“You were amazing, Ellie. So bloody good!” He laughs, and there’s a joyousness in it that’s impossible to deny.
I giggle and skip a step to keep up with him, the cold night air no match for the heat in my lungs. “You were awesome.”
We navigate our way back inside the building’s front entrance and through the crowd, heading to the bar for a celebratory drink. When he has a beer and I have a vodka soda, we stop and catch our breaths. I can’t stop the giddiness racing through my veins, though. That consumes all of me.
“Here he is,” a voice booms, interrupting my thoughts, and I look up at one of the tallest men I’ve ever met. His face is narrow, and his thin hair greying, but those eyes—those eyes are unmistakable. They’re the same blue eyes as Joel’s.
I’ve met Joel’s father twice before. Back then, he was always Mr Henley, the energetic man who drove Joel to soccer and came in to tell us when it was getting late, and when It was time to go home. Now, he somehow looks a lot older. As if more than three years have passed.
“Dad.” Joel grins, and wraps his arms around his father, careful not to spill the beer in the process. “How was it?”
The older man claps him on the back and pulls away, looking Joel in the face. “You two were bloody brilliant. I don’t know about the rest of them though ...”
“You’re being a little biased, don’t you think?” Joel raises his eyebrows, then pulls back farther again to gesture to me. “Dad, do you remember the lovely Ellie Mayfield? Ellie, this is my dad, Henry.”
I put out my hand for it to be shaken, realising I have never heard his first name before. “Henry ... Henley?”
He shakes his head. “My parents had a cruel sense of humour.”
“I’m so sorry.” The words are out of my mouth before I have time to think them through. “I mean, I think. Should I be?”
Henry throws his head back and laughs, a big booming sound, and soon I join in. “You’re all right, my dear. All right.”
“Can I get you a drink or anything, Dad?” Joel asks.
Henry frowns. “I don’t think you should be drinking yourself. I’m a little surprised, Son.”
I look to Joel, bemused. “Do you have a secret alcohol problem you’ve been keeping from me?”
The mood isn’t jovial anymore, though.
Now it’s veritably icy.
“He’s just worried about me drinking and driving, is all.”
“Oh.” I nod. It does make sense. But when he’s only having one, and we’re not leaving for another hour or so ...
Maybe there are some dark secrets in Joel’s past. Maybe I’m not the only one who’s hiding something from the world.
I think of the bright, vibrant, happy guy I’m falling for. I just hope whatever it is doesn’t consume Joel, too.
***
We’re almost at my place when Joel veers the car to the left and heads toward the beach parking lot.
“Please don’t tell me skinny dipping is another one of your challenges.” I grimace, and Joel laughs. It’s melodic and rich, and completely fills the space between us.
He pulls into an empty space and eases the parking brake on. The lot is near vacant, with only a few other cars parked around us. Light from the lamp above us floods the vehicle, capturing the seriousness in Joel’s eyes. “I don’t think I could handle seeing you naked.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I swallow down the words do me on the car bonnet. Because, seriously. There’s only so many sexy glances from this man I can endure.
Joel turns his head to me. “Do you know any constellations?”
So not what I was thinking about. I shake my head, no.
“Me neither.” He chews his lip for a moment, then lets out a breath. “My dad used to say that stars are all the souls of people who’ve lived before. People who we love, looking down on us.”
I turn the idea over in my mind, my eyes on the jewels that glitter so high above us. If one of them was my father ...
No.
“That’s all very well and good, but science is science. They’re planets, and comets, and moons, and asteroids, and ...” I trail off as the back of Joel’s hand trails down my cheek.
“Maybe stars are more than just science.” The words come out near a whisper. “Maybe all that is true, but maybe it’s to do with viewpoint. Maybe there’s a barrier between earth and space, and each soul has a sparkle they cling to. A way they can look down on earth and find the people they love below.”
Maybe.
It’s something I want to believe so badly. Lately, I’ve been feeling so lost, and it’s so damn easy to fall in love with the idea that someone is there, looking out for my family and me.
If my dad was up there in the stars, I’d want him to find me.
I miss him so much.
Suddenly, the gravity of the thought overwhelms me, and I need to get out of there, need to change the conversation topic, fast. “I ... you were a star tonight. Up there on stage ...”
“It was easy.” He flashes me a winning smile. “I just did that old trick.”
“Oh yeah?” I tilt my head to the side. “And what exactly is that?”
His eyes smoulder. “I pretended you were naked.”
Oh.
His words light a fire inside me. Tension is taut as a zipline around us. The yellow lights of the parking lot wash a golden hue over Joel’s face, his pale complexion. He licks his lips, and I’m drawn to them. Inch by inch, breath by breath, and oh my God, it’s really finally happening, and I’m going to—
A body slams against the car window behind Joel. He whips his head around, and I widen my eyes.
“Ellie!” Dani screams, waving her hand at light speed.
Joel turns back to me, an eyebrow raised in question. “That’s not little Dani?”
Disappointment sucks through my body. We were so close—so close to kissing. “Yep. That’s my sister.”
Joel opens the car door. Dani leans in, and even from the other side of the vehicle I can smell the bourbon on her breath. “Sissy! And ... Joel!” She tries to wiggle her eyebrows, but ends up looking like some kind of facial contortionist. Still, despite it all, she manages to be beautiful. So beautiful.
Beauty’s always been her downfall.
“Hey. Nice to see you again.” Joel sticks out his hand, and Dani looks at it in disdain before launching herself at him. Her arms latch around his neck as she stumble-hugs him, her body hovering over his.
“Mm, you smell good, Joel.” She sucks in a breath next to his neck, then pulls back so her face is close to his. Too close.
A little part of me squirms, and even though I know I’m being ridiculous, I can’t help but think it. Please don’t choose her.
“Thanks.” Joel places his hands on Dani’s shoulders and gently pushes her out of the car. My heart starts beating again, as if it never stopped.
“What are you doing here, Dan?” I ask, leaning forward to get a better view. The parking lot is void of people behind her.
“Just wa
iting for someone.” She waves her hand behind her, and a gust of wind whips her long hair around her face. “He’ll be here soon.”
Unease twists my stomach, and I look at her, really look at her. “Who are you meeting?”
“A friend.”
“Which friend?”
“Rack off, Ellie. Go fuck your hot boyfriend.” She flips me the bird, and turns to wobble away on heels that are much too high for her.
“Sorry, I’ll be right back.” I open the car door and step out. My phone buzzes in my purse, and I ignore it, too focused on saving my sister.
I power-walk to catch her, and even though she has a head start, I manage to reach her in ten seconds, flat. My hand curls around her shoulders, jerking her fragile frame to face me.
“What the hell are you doing, Dani?” I ask. Emotion tears at my voice.
“Take a guess,” she snarls, but there’s a chink in her armour. The weak spot in her heel.
“Is it drugs?”
“Ha!” Contempt lines her features, and she sneers. “Poor little Ellie. You just don’t understand me at all, do you?” She shakes her head. “You can’t shelter me forever.”
Those words break my heart. Because that’s the only thing I want to do. Save her from herself.
A motorcycle roars into the lot, pulling to a stop beside us. Dani stills in front of me, and shrugs my grip off. “Go away,” she hisses, straightening her shoulders and painting a smile on her face. “This is my friend.”
A man dressed all in black, from his helmet to his combat boots, throws his leg over the side of the bike. He unlatches his helmet and pulls it over his head, letting loose his long, dark hair. A scar puckers the side of his lips, and his eyes are hard and grey in the dim light—eyes that have seen too many things. I don’t have to look for his cut to know he’s a bikie. It’s written in the way he walks, the predatory way he moves.
“I ain’t got enough for the both of you.”
“Trust me, we ain’t after a package deal.” Dani saunters over and places her small arm around this big man’s shoulders.
My stomach whirls inside my body, even as I tell it to relax. This is a lot darker than I’d ever thought it was.
The Twenty-One (Emerald Cove #2) Page 9