I feel my bottom lip quiver.
‘I got too caught up in the numbers, and when I started looking into what Miguel was really doing, read all the hate mail, I realised I didn’t agree.’
I let his words sink in. I think of how focused he’s been on his application the past few weeks, neglecting all other things in his life because of it, including me. ‘You have been pretty obsessed with our channel. Sometimes, I felt totally ignored.’
‘I know. And I’m so sorry. Miguel’s page ...’ He shakes his head. ‘I didn’t realise how bad it was until you stopped the campaign. But when I found out, I knew I couldn’t be involved in something like that. I saw how obsessed I’d become; all I cared about were those subscriber numbers. So ...’ His green eyes shine under the streetlight as they stare into mine, and he takes my hand. ‘Thank you for putting an end to it. Do you forgive me?’
Apologising and thanking me? I can’t even believe it. And he’s not breaking up with me!
This is everything I wished for, but I still need to understand more. ‘But I ruined your application.’
‘I think I may still have a chance, and I’ve realised it isn’t the most important thing. You are. We are.’ He squeezes my hand. ‘Maybe you did me a favour, anyway. I don’t think Viola Films would have appreciated all the negative comments the kangaroo video triggered. All that hate is now gone from Keep Kind and our other videos are doing pretty well.’
‘They are?’ I know they had gathered quite a few more likes, and we’ve had an increase in subscribers, but ... ‘Even the crustacean one?’
His eyes light up. ‘Oh my god, it’s been shared a lot.’
‘How many times?’
Oliver pauses before answering. ‘Don’t worry about it; numbers aren’t what matters.’ His straight face makes me break into a chuckle, and he starts laughing too. ‘Sky, seriously, I’m learning that now. I want to make good films, not just popular ones.’
‘And you will, Oliver; I know it.’ I smile at him, and he smiles back, reaching over to pull me closer.
At that moment, a loud crash makes us turn. Behind us, just beyond the streetlight, someone’s kicking a bottle. It’s Bruce. He laughs as the glass smashes into the back wall of the liquor shop where the recycling bins live, shards flying. There’s another smaller bottle by his feet and he picks it up and throws it towards one of the bins. It misses and bounces off the concrete with a clatter. He tries again and this time the glass smashes. Bruce curses happily and staggers around the corner of the store, into the darkness and out of sight.
Oliver and I look at each other. Pete’s dad is a serious drunk.
‘He reminds me of someone,’ I say.
‘Who?’
I pause for a moment before answering. ‘Jaxon’s dad.’
Oliver doesn’t flinch. ‘Tell me about him.’
‘But ...’ I don’t want to change the good energy between us.
‘If we’re going to move forward, I think I need to deal with that too,’ Oliver says. ‘Jaxon’s a part of your dad’s life, like a son or something, and that means he’s a part of your life too—and what’s yours is mine. Maybe if I know more about him, it’ll help me see him more as a person and less as a villain.’
My heart feels like it might actually burst. When did he get so mature?
‘From the beginning?’ I ask, and Oliver nods. ‘The first time I met Jaxon was the day I arrived at Dad’s place. His father had been missing for days and he was trying not to freak out.’
Slowly, I recount my experience in Alaska; how Jaxon joined us camping because Dad was worried about him and didn’t want him to be alone, and how after Jaxon lost his mum in an accident, his father had started drinking heavily so my dad stepped in as a parental figure. I describe how we got his father out of jail, and finally, how Jaxon’s father went to rehab and Jaxon got his big break in music.
‘I listened to his single,’ Oliver says when I finish.
‘And?’
‘It’s not too bad.’ I can see the wisp of smile in the corners of his mouth. ‘Next time your dad mentions him, I won’t freak out.’
Oliver leans towards me and his lips meet mine, warm, soft and tender. We kiss and kiss and kiss again, our breath merging into one, and it feels like heaven.
‘Are we all good now?’ Oliver whispers eventually, his lips a millimetre away from mine.
It seems silly to bring it up now, but there’s still one more thing I need to understand.
‘What is it?’ He pulls back to stare into my eyes.
‘It’s just that ...’ I steel myself.
‘Say it.’
I’m glad it’s dark enough to hide the flush in my cheeks. ‘When we were in Melbourne ... When you didn’t come to the hotel. It seemed like ... Was your dad an excuse? I mean ... Did you not want to ...?’
‘I did want to! I mean, I do want to!’ His enthusiasm is unmistakable, and it makes me giggle. It’s just that ...’
‘What?’
‘Okay. This is beyond embarrassing, but you know how I told you Dad agreed to pay for the editing program?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Well, what I didn’t say was that when I got home, he asked me to show him the program I wanted. So I opened up the site and there happened to be this flash sale at midnight. I searched around and found out that it was, like, this once-in-a-blue-moon sale for the company’s tenth birthday. And, well, I couldn’t tell Dad what the plan was with you—like I said, he’s old school and he’d tell Mum for sure and that would be, you know ... awkward.’ He looks momentarily horrified at the thought. ‘Anyway, I couldn’t make him pay full price when there was a sale, so we had to wait until midnight to buy it.’
‘You could have just called and told me that.’
‘You’re right. It just sounded stupid.’
No kidding. I stare at him. ‘I felt really insecure.’
‘You did?’ His face falls. ‘I’m sorry. But I told you I love you, right? And I’ve told you a million times since then.’
‘I didn’t know if I should believe it or not.’
He looks into my eyes for a moment, trying to register what I’m saying. Instead of answering, he hugs me.
I hug him back tighter. ‘Are you sure that’s it?’ I ask into his shoulder. I mean, I know how important the program was to him, but still ... a speck of doubt floats in the air between us.
He releases me and looks at his feet, which makes me look too. We are both staring at his shoelaces, which really need a clean, when he says, ‘I guess I was worried too.’
‘Worried about what?’
‘I don’t know. Doing it right. Making it perfect. I didn’t want to, you know ...’
I wait. My heart’s beating fast again.
Eventually he tells his shoe, ‘Disappoint you.’
I let his words wash over me. I know I’m scared, but I never imagined he’d feel the same way. I assumed guys were always confident, which, now that I think about it, is silly.
‘We’re in this together.’ I hug him again. ‘We can both be scared, okay?’
‘Okay.’
All my worries gurgle down the drain like bathwater. Well, nearly all; there’s still Lucy. But for now, it’s just me and him. And it’s perfect.
Chapter 21
‘Lucy! Malcolm!’ I hobble towards them. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’
People are pouring into our home, baby-shower gifts piling up on the coffee table, chatter and laughter spilling out into the garden. My foot isn’t as sore today so I’ve abandoned the crutches, but I’m still trying to avoid putting too much weight on it. Perched on a chair in the garden, I spent the early morning cutting flowers and filling the lounge room with the elegant long stems of red kangaroo paws.
Malcolm and I exchange pleasantries by the front door and his latest geology joke genuinely makes me chuckle. Then I turn to Lucy.
‘Can I borrow you for a sec?’ I take her hand. Malcolm makes a beeline for the buffet
table as I lead Lucy to my room.
‘Pretty.’ She points to the vase of flowers on my bedside table. I finally replaced the old daisies in my room with a posy of lavender from the garden. Waiting for Paula to do it when she had more important things on her mind was immature; I see that now. The vase is squashed next to a tall stack of books I’m intending to read. Sick of being online, waiting for new posts from Stella that haven’t come, I’ve gone back to reading, turning the soft, worn pages of old books, the smell of old ink replacing the glare of my screen. I’m no longer obsessed and it’s good.
‘I’m really sorry.’ I sit down next to Lucy on the edge of the bed.
‘You told me that about a hundred times last night.’ Lucy’s voice is sweet. Dad took me over to her house after I’d said goodbye to Oliver, and while Lucy and I talked, he chatted to her parents. Lucy told me about the job offer and I explained to her why I reacted the way I did. Not that it made my reaction okay, but I described the stress I had been under with the upcoming campaign and my fears about Oliver breaking up with me. Lucy said she completely understood. Eventually, Mark convened a family meeting about Africa and Dad drove me home.
‘But I wanted to say it again in person,’ I say.
‘I just can’t believe you kept all that stuff from me,’ she says. ‘I feel like you’ve been distant with me lately. I thought maybe I’d done something to upset you.’
I feel terrible. I’ve been upset with Oliver for being obsessed with the subscriber numbers, and I now realise I’ve been doing the same thing to Lucy. ‘No, not at all ...’ I consider my next words carefully. ‘It took me a bit of time to get used to you having a boyfriend.’ I know I’ve been self-centred wanting Lucy all to myself, when she never made that kind of demand from me. ‘But I’m totally okay now. And I’m sorry if I haven’t got to know Malcolm. How are you feeling about leaving him?’
‘I’m okay. I’ve known it was a possibility for a while, and so did he. He likes you, by the way.’ Lucy pushes up her glasses. ‘You guys are just different.’
Malcolm, despite not getting my way of thinking about veganism, is thoughtful and caring with Lucy. He’s also encouraged her to keep going with her Instagram and I can see he’s trying to connect with me too, for Lucy’s sake, in his own way. I am happy he makes her happy. That’s the most important thing.
‘I know,’ I say. ‘He’s a good guy and he adores you. That’s all that matters. But I actually like him too, so that’s cool.’
‘Boyfriends may come and go, but let’s not let them change our friendship.’ Lucy looks at me seriously. ‘Okay, Sky?’
‘Okay.’ To think I jeopardised my friendship with her in any way makes me feel terrible. ‘How do you get to be so wise, anyway?’
Lucy ponders this for a moment. ‘Too much time with birds. Did you know they have more neurons per square inch of their brains than mammals or primates? They’re smarter than all of us.’
Her answer is not what I expect and it makes me snort a giggle. Lucy catches it, and after a few minutes we’re both holding our sides laughing. After the last few days, I needed that.
I wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes and pull myself together. ‘So, what happened last night after I left? Did you all decide if your dad should take the job?’
Lucy nods.
My heart beat increases, but I remind myself this is about her, not me and my loss.
‘How are you feeling?’ I ask.
‘I’m fine.’ Lucy flattens out the wrinkles in my blanket. ‘It’s another chapter in the book of our lives, as my mum likes to say.’
I think of my life’s chapters. I’ve packed in so many intense experiences over the last year. My book has been full of drama.
As Lucy and I head back to the guests, I know we’ll be okay. We’ll always be friends, no matter what. She’ll be packing up and leaving in a few months and even though I’m super sad, I’ll get through it. I know I have the self-confidence to make new friends and not compromise myself like I did with Marissa. And with Skype, Instagram and Facebook, it could be almost like Lucy’s still here. Almost.
Outside, Oliver’s chatting to one of Dave’s mates and I see him take out his phone and show him something. When they’re finished talking, I sidle up to Oliver and he slips his arm around my waist.
‘I couldn’t have done that before,’ he says to me.
‘Done what?’
‘Showed someone Keep Kind. If we still had Pete’s video there, sooner or later someone would have recognised something, and we would have got in big trouble.’
‘Right ...’ I’d never thought of that. ‘So, you’re saying I was right?’ I look up at Oliver, fluttering my eyelashes.
‘Oh my God, Sky.’ He finds my ticklish spot under my left rib and goes straight there. ‘How many times do you have to hear it?’
‘Infinity.’ I kiss him.
‘Keep it PG,’ Dave says as he ambles over. ‘This is a family-friendly event.’
We all chuckle, then Dad comes over and starts a conversation with Oliver about the fine details of the editing program. I go to check on Lior; I miss him already. But just as I step inside, almost out of earshot, I hear my dad say, ‘The hunting is out of this world.’ I stop abruptly. There’s a muffled response then Dad replies, ‘Wouldn’t stop it for the world.’
My stomach falls through the shag rug, plunging deep into the Earth’s crust. No. He can’t go back to hunting. I turn and study Dad’s face, but now he’s laughing and slapping someone on the back.
I walk inside and sit down on a chair next to the table. Nearby, Malcolm’s mother is nibbling on a celery stick and chatting to Diana, who’s arranging cut vegetables on a dipping plate.
I stare into space. Dad can’t do it. I have to stop him. But how?
‘That’s nice of you. How long is he staying?’ I hear Diana ask.
‘Another few weeks, maybe,’ Malcolm’s mother answers. ‘But I told Pete that this is it; he can’t go back—I won’t allow it.’
‘What a creep,’ Diana says. ‘You’re a good woman for stepping in.’
Pete? What are they talking about? He’s staying at Malcolm’s place? I remember Pete at the hospital, giving his dad the finger, his arm in a cast.
An hour later I’m standing with Dave, Diana and Oliver outside our front door. The guests have all left and, with the help of Dad and Diana, our house looks almost spotless.
‘Thank you again.’ I kiss Diana.
Diana puts her hand to my cheek. ‘It couldn’t have gone better, could it, Sky? I think Paula was happy. Now go rest that foot of yours.’
I’m desperate to know what’s happening with Pete, but I haven’t been able find a way to bring up the subject again without admitting to eavesdropping. And I still need to talk to Dad. If he’s going back to hunting, I must know, once and for all.
Paula appears and hugs Diana again, Lior squished between them in his sling. He’s fast asleep and Paula looks like she’s going to pass out on her feet. Dave puts his arm around her.
Dad appears behind them with a roll of garbage bags. ‘I’ll get stuck into the recycling.’
‘You’re our guest,’ Dave says, as usual. ‘I’ll do it later, mate.’
‘Dude. Really?’ Dad looks at him pointedly.
Dave pauses for a moment, then smiles. ‘You know what? That would be a great help, thanks.’
I kiss Oliver goodbye before he gets in the car. We’ll see each other tomorrow at school. After a week off, I’ll have a lot of catching up to do.
‘Love you,’ he whispers.
‘Love you more,’ I say. I can practically feel Dave’s smirk, but I don’t care who hears my declaration; I’ll sing it from the top of our tree.
As I limp back up the driveway, I see Dad loading a bag of glass bottles into the recycling bin. They clank loudly as they hit the bottom.
I won’t avoid the subject any longer. I just refuse.
‘Are you going?’ I ask determinedly.
>
‘What?’ He moves to the next rubbish bag, pushing it into the regular bin.
‘Going where?’ he asks, the bin lid falling down with a bang.
‘Back to Alaska.’ I stare at him, waiting.
‘Oh, that.’ He wipes his hands on his jeans.
That? That is a huge deal. ‘To hunt,’ I state.
‘Hunting guide.’
‘Guide,’ I repeat. I look away. At least now I know.
‘Nope.’ He puts his hand on my shoulder. ‘You okay if I stay here?’
‘Here?’ I stare at him. ‘Here, as in, West Creek?’
‘I was going to tell you later. They offered me a job.’
‘Who?’
‘West Creek Tourism.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Managing their whole online presence.’ His face lights up. ‘I’ll be doing photography and video and they’ll even give me training on website management. There’s no one with these skills in West Creek and it’ll be cheaper for them to employ me than to pay the consultant they’re using from Sydney. They’re drawing up the paperwork now to get me a work visa.’
‘Oh my God. So you’re really giving it up?’ I think my mouth’s hanging open.
‘What?’ His eyebrows furrow.
‘Hunting! I was seriously freaking out that you were going to go back to it.’ He is beyond oblivious.
‘Right, right.’ He looks surprised at my reaction. ‘You know,’ he rubs his neck, ‘ever since I went out on that kangaroo hunt and took those pictures, something’s changed in me. It was so much more satisfying to just watch the wildlife, to be an observer, rather than interfere with them. And focusing so much on photography over the last months has rekindled something, an artistic streak I haven’t felt for a long time.’
‘So that’s a yes? You’re giving up your hunting job in Alaska?’
‘That’s a yes.’
Wow. My plan actually worked, but I don’t tell him that. ‘My dad the artist.’
He smiles. ‘So, tell me, are you okay with me staying? I don’t want to rain on your teenage parade.’
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