the Art of Breaking Up

by Elizabeth Stevens

  Mum and Dad both worked through the holidays, and Koby only shared the first week of my holidays with his uni mid-semester break. So, the house wasn’t too bad during the day. Lisa came over and we just lounged around or we went to town and window shopped for hours between iced coffees.

  On Wednesday, I was just puttering about the house wondering what to do with myself.

  Wade

  You wanna go out today?

  Norah

  That sounds an awful lot like a date.

  Wade

  *shrug* Call it what you like.

  Norah

  What are you planning on calling it?

  Wade

  Nothing. Until you reply.

  Norah

  Okay if I said no?

  Wade

  A boring day in

  Norah

  And If I said yes?

  Wade

  I’d call it two people going out.

  Norah

  Like…going out?

  Wade

  I think you’re overthinking this.

  Wade

  I’m just asking if you wanna hang out.

  It did sound like I was overthinking it.

  I tried to decide if I was overthinking it because I didn’t want it to be an actual date or, even worse, because a part of me did.

  Instead of dwelling on that, I ignored it and worked on answering his question.

  Norah

  Sure. Sounds good. Have anything in mind?

  Wade

  I’ve got a hankering for mini golf.

  Norah

  Mini golf?

  Wade

  Yeah. Problem?

  Norah

  I’m just trying to picture you mini golfing.

  Wade

  It’s like normal golf, only smaller.

  Norah

  I do know what mini golf is.

  Wade

  I just didn’t know if that would help you picture it or not?

  Norah

  Picturing you playing normal golf is no easier.

  Wade

  Well, if you come, then you can take a picture to help next time you try to picture it. You won’t have to, because you’ll have a picture!

  His logic, while rambling, was sound.

  Norah

  Okay. Let’s mini golf.

  Wade

  :D

  Wade

  Sweet. Shall I pick you up?

  Norah

  Didn’t you drive last time?

  Wade

  I didn’t realise we were keeping score.

  Norah

  I just want to make sure I’m doing my fair share.

  Wade

  …

  Wade

  All right. You pick me up then.

  Norah

  What were you going to say?

  Wade

  What do you mean?

  Norah

  That’s not what you were going to say.

  Wade

  I was going to tell you there are no shares. I was going to try to remind you that we can do whatever we dang well please.

  Norah

  But?

  Wade

  I didn’t think you’d listen.

  Norah

  You were right.

  Wade

  :D:D

  Wade

  When shall I expect you, Jeeves?

  Norah

  Give me…half an hour?

  Wade

  Can do. See you then.

  I quickly got changed, making use of the slightly warmer weather to wear a skirt, and headed out to pick up Wade. He was waiting outside his house by the time I got there. I pulled over to the curb and he jumped in with a huge smile on his face.

  “Hey,” I said with a smile.

  “Hey.”

  “So, where are we going for this mini golf?”

  “I looked this up. Hahndorf. West Beach. Or…Glenelg.”

  I spared him a glance. “Those were the closest?”

  “No. Holey Moley is the closest, but I thought outdoors would be nicer and it doesn’t open until four. We could always drive out to the Barossa. Do a spot of wine tasting while we’re there.”

  “I can’t wine taste.” After my birthday, yes. This week, no.

  Wade sighed dramatically. “Good point. That can be a next week activity.”

  I laughed. “And neither of us can drive if we’ve been drinking, eighteen or not.”

  He nodded resignedly. “Also, a good point. Okay, scrap that until we’ve got our full licenses. Where are you taking me today?”

  “What’s open the latest?” I asked, feeling like that would be a good opportunity to avoid going back home.

  “That…” he started as he looked at his phone, “would be West Beach or Glenelg. Both close at six. If you want, I’ll take you out to dinner after.”

  I smiled in thanks. “You’re on. You navigate?”

  “Navigate and pay for dinner?” he teased. “Slave driver, you.”

  I snorted and pulled away from the curb, heading in the vague direction of West Beach or Glenelg.

  Wade’s impression of a navigation system made me crack up laughing the whole way there. We got to the mini golf place and went to sign in.

  “I want to be the pink ball,” Wade declared. “You can be the yellow.”

  I nodded. “Okay, then.”

  “Are you ready for this? Because I am the reigning mini-golf champion.”

  “In what league?”

  “Playing against my mum and step-dad.”

  I snorted. “Big leagues.”

  He nodded, managing not to let a smile slip. “Biggest. We played for money!”

  I gasped dramatically. “Not money?”

  He nodded again. “I won a whole dollar.”

  “How old were you? Five?”

  “Ten,” he answered.

  “At ten, you bet a dollar?”

  “I would have bet more, but I’d spent it all on lollies. He refused an IOU.”

  “Figures. What’ll you bet today?”

  “How much have you got?”

  I rifled in my pockets. “I have one Ikea pencil, a lip gloss, a charm that broke off my bracelet like two months ago, and a whole lot of nothing else.”

  He laughed. “I’ll see you a whole lot of nothing else and raise you…” He rifled in his pockets. “My keys, a ball of paper Hollard spit at me last term, and…a bottle cap.”

  “Okay. Bottle cap versus broken charm it is.”

  He nodded, spat on his hand and stuck it out to me. “You’re on.”

  I looked at his hand. “Are you still ten?”

  He looked at his hand, then back at me. “What? How do you seal deals?”

  “A pinky promise usually suffices,” I told him, my hand hovering towards his as I thought about how weird it was that I was happy to kiss him, but didn’t want to touch his spit with my hand. “When the occasion calls for it.”

  He shook his head, mock-seriously. “A pinky promise isn’t enough for this bet.”

  I gave him a resigned smile. “Fine.” I spat on my hand and gripped his, closing my eyes as I did like that was going to make it less gross.

  He pulled me towards him and kissed me. My eyes flew open and I saw his watching me. We smiled against each other before he pulled away with a wickedly adorable grin.

  “All right, Lincoln. Show me what you got, baby!” he cried.

  What I had was nothing all that impressive, which did nothing to hamper my enjoyment of the day at all. Not that Wade was doing a lot to live up to his title as reigning world-champion. He was still doing better than me.

  I was lining up for something like my seventh attempt at the third hole. I mean, it was right there. How hard could it actually be?! The answer to that was very.

  “You know the purpose of this is to get the lowest sco
re…” he said slowly.

  I turned to look at him with a withering glare that was trying to be a grin. “I told you, I know how golf works.”

  He nodded. “No. I mean, good. I just thought I’d check because…” He shrugged. “You know.”

  “Would you like to do it?” I asked, holding my club to him.

  He shook his head. “I wouldn’t dare. In the interests of feminism and everything.”

  I remembered the conversation that seemed like a lifetime ago now. I smirked. “Very cute.”

  “Oh, I know I am.”

  Two shots later and I had the ball in the freaking hole.

  “Whoo!” Wade cried and I laughed at the sincere enthusiasm on his face.

  “Yeah,” I scoffed. “Whoo on, what? Ten shots?”

  Wade shrugged. “You still got it in the hole. That’s an achievement.”

  “Is that what you tell yourself?” I teased and he gave me a cheeky smirk.

  “Oh, is that how it is? I don’t recall you complaining.” He put his hand under his chin and pretended to think about it.

  “Maybe I was too polite,” I joked.

  “Oh, polite, is it? I’m not sure that’s the word I’d use to describe you.”

  I took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m always polite, Wade.”

  He pulled me to him and wrapped his arm around me. “You keep telling yourself that, Norah,” he chuckled.

  I pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I shall. Now, next hole?” I asked as I headed for the fourth tee.

  “You don’t think we’re rushing things a bit? Public space and all?” he asked as he was forced to follow me given I still held his hand.

  I turned to him with a fondly exasperated smile. “It’s always about sex with you.”

  He spun me, then brought me to his body before looking into my eyes with a wickedly mischievous shine in his. “You knew this about me.”

  “And yet, I’m still here.”

  He looked me over, the shine softening endearingly. “Yes, you are.”

  “I wonder why that is.”

  “I couldn’t tell you. Probably because I’m amazing.”

  It was times like these I wasn’t sure if he was hiding behind a mask of cocky happiness, or if his mood was high enough for his natural self-confidence to break through unhampered. Whichever it was, I felt like it didn’t need mentioning. Whichever it was, he was doing okay and just wanted to keep doing okay.

  I kicked my head noncommittally. “You’re definitely all right…” I said slowly.

  His arm tightened around my waist and his grin widened. “Just all right?”

  “You wanted more?”

  Wade’s lips ducked to my ear. “Maybe I’ll change your mind later.”

  “Promises, promises,” I laughed.

  “Oh, you’re on, Lincoln.”

  “Do we spit-shake on it?”

  He shook his head. “I think this needs a pinky promise.”

  We held out our pinkies and looked into each other’s eyes, smiles creeping onto our faces at the sheer ridiculous joy we were having together. Our pinkies interlocked, we shook, sealing it with a nod.

  “I believe it’s your shot, sir,” I told him.

  Those rules they hadn’t set out for us, we’d made up for ourselves.

  We were lucky it wasn’t particularly busy because we took forever to get around the whole course. We took so long, we kept the place from closing for ten minutes. But the kiosk attendant didn’t say anything as we turned in our balls and clubs at the end.

  Coming up from behind me, Wade wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my cheek. The noise that left me could only be described as a giggle. Perhaps a higher-pitched guffaw. A flirty chuckle. Whatever it was, I hadn’t realised I was capable of such a noise.

  The whole thing still warmed my heart.

  He kissed my cheek again, then let me go to hold my hand on the way back to the car.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I was still on a high from my non-date with Wade the day before when I trooped down for dinner on Thursday night, even humming to myself as I jumped the last couple of steps on the stairs.

  “You’re in a good mood,” Koby noted as we unintentionally met in the hallway on our way to the kitchen.

  I smiled at him. “I am in a good mood.”

  “Is there a boy?” he teased.

  I smirked, but said, “Why do you immediately assume it’s a boy? Can a woman not just be in a good mood without it relating to a man?”

  He shrugged. “Well, I mean, it can. But you’ve got the ‘I got lucky’ smile on your face.”

  I shut that down real quick. “I do not.”

  He chuckled and ruffled my hair, “Oh, yes, you do.”

  He walked off into the kitchen and I paused in the hallway while I tried to get control over my face. Was I walking around with the ‘I got lucky’ smile? How long had I been walking around with it? Was it the first time? I couldn’t think of many reasons I’d had to feel good lately, but Wade had a knack for making me feel good. In more ways than one.

  When it felt like I had some control over my face, I hurried into the kitchen after him.

  “Norah!” Dad called, then spotted me. “Oh, there you are. Here, take this to the table.”

  I took the dish from him and took my seat at the table. Koby threw me a knowing smirk and I wrinkled my nose at him in mature response. Mum was looking at something on her phone. When Dad sat down, he started eating while Mum was still busy, so Koby and I followed awkward suit.

  “I know you said no party, but can we at least go out to dinner?” Koby asked me amid the silent table.

  My eyes darted between my parents to see them looking at each other. It was the first time I’d seen them make eye contact in a while. Shame then that they looked like they were utterly horrified.

  “Oh, my God, Norah…” Dad said, turning to me.

  “Your birthday’s next week,” Mum breathed.

  I nodded. I could be annoyed they’d obviously forgotten or act like I hadn’t noticed and it didn’t matter. “It sure is.”

  “The big One-Eight,” Koby said, the only proud or happy person at the table.

  “You have to stop calling it that,” I huffed at him.

  “Why?” He was clearly very pleased with himself. “That’s what it is.”

  I shrugged. “I’m another year older. Whoop-de-do.”

  My brother was clearly not going to stand for my resistance. “You’re eighteen. An adult. Fully legal with a license to drink.” Cue James Bond-esque finger gun.

  “You’re both too young to be going out drinking all the time,” Mum said.

  Koby rolled his eyes. “Pfft. Says the woman who forgot her daughter’s birthday.”

  “We didn’t forget,” Dad said in earnest.

  Mum nodded. “No. We just…”

  “Forgot it was nearly October,” Dad finished.

  “I’d have thought you were counting down,” I muttered as I pushed dinner around my plate.

  “What?” Mum asked.

  I shook my head. “Nothing. It’s fine. Don’t worry.”

  “But, what about a party?” Dad asked. “You’re not doing anything?”

  “Oh, yeah, no. She’s not having one,” Koby answered for me.

  “How do you know so much about it?” Mum asked.

  “Because I asked her weeks ago what she was doing. I’m clearly the best brother in the world.”

  He was full of puffed-up, fake swagger, but just then he was the best family I had. I didn’t blame Mum and Dad for forgetting my birthday considering they were now less than three months away from being free of each other. I couldn’t, though, deny that it felt a little bit shit anyway.

  My eyes got hot. That lump formed in my throat. I got this overwhelming sense of exhaustion and sadness. It felt like it started in the very bottom of me and was threatening to completel
y overwhelm me, like a well steadily filling to overflow levels.

  I cleared my throat. “So, I was thinking of going out tonight. That okay?” I asked the table at large.

  “Oh, you and Lis going out?” Mum asked, putting on a smile.

  I nodded. “Uh, yeah.”

  Dad smiled as well. “Brilliant. Maybe she can persuade you to have a party, huh?”

  I wanted to inform him that throwing me a banging eighteenth party wasn’t going to make up for the fact they’d forgotten about my birthday, it wasn’t going to erase the fact that our family was about to end, it wasn’t going to fix anything like some magical Band-Aid.

  Neither would seeing Wade, not really, but he was the sort of distraction that I was happy to let be a Band-Aid. He was more like the salve that would let me at least feel like I was getting through with only minor scathing.

  I ate as quickly as I could, wanting to get away from the strained small-talk my parents were trying like that would make up for them forgetting my birthday. Like if we just pretended everything was normal, maybe it would be.

  After dumping my dishes in the dishwasher, I jogged up to my room to grab some stuff and text Wade.

  Norah

  I need to get out.

  His reply was immediate.

  Wade

  I’ll be right there.

  Norah

  I’m heading down to the park.

  Wade

  Then I’ll be there even sooner.

  Before I’d even grabbed up my stuff to walk out the door, I got another message from him.

  Wade

  Call me if you even think of doing anything stupid.

  Norah

  I promise I’ll at least wait for you to get here.

  Wade

  Good.

  It seemed Wade wasn’t the only self-deprecating one around here, and at least he’d seemed to understand that was where I was going with it.

  I didn’t bother saying goodbye to anyone, I just hurried out of the house, curling myself up in my jumper as best as possible, as I headed for the park.

  Tears leaked from the dam, the pressure building in me reaching breaking point, but I did my utmost to stop it from breaking up entirely. If that meant swiping angrily at my cheeks to get rid of any evidence of the stragglers, then that’s what I’d do. Not that it did help much.