Friendship on Fire (34 page)

Why did I feel so sad when I saw him walk away?

t was the time of the term where everyone started to wind down, whether it was wise to do so or not. The weather turned much cooler, the days grew shorter and everyone at school needed a break from each other; teachers and students alike.

We had what was considered a large year twelve cohort, but it felt small and restricted after seeing the same people for more than six hours a day, five days a week.

Only a week left. I had handed in pretty much all of my assignments, with only one or two to think about over the holidays.

After Portsmouth. Long after.

‘What else do you think I'll need?'

I grabbed my checklist out of Mum's hands and ran through it again, panicking. ‘I feel like I'm forgetting something still.' My gear was strewn across my bed in piles; double the amount needed for a short trip.

‘Stop fretting, Daisy. You've got everything. It's only two nights for goodness sake,' Mum scolded. I kept looking anyway. Opening up all my drawers, I checked if I would need one more pair of bikinis, or different coloured thongs, to match certain coloured t-shirts and shorts.

My parents had not been overjoyed at the prospect of me going to Portsmouth alone with Nate. They thought I was too young to be putting myself in such a tough situation. Nate had originally booked us in for four nights. Two was a good compromise, considering I hadn't expected them to say yes. I guess it was part of them getting used to me becoming an adult and making my own choices.

Then Dad brought up the Roman thing. I put my head in my hands when he laid on the guilt trip about me saying no to his family and then going with Nate.

‘Does he know you are going away with Nate?' Dad demanded.

‘No. And he won't, if you don't tell him,' I said, laying on a similar guilt trip. ‘I don't want to hurt him, Dad.'

‘It would be much easier, Daisy, if you'd dated Roman in the first place,' Dad rambled. ‘Then we wouldn't have to test out some new guy.'

Mum interjected to save me. ‘Stop. What's done is done, so let the girl go enjoy herself. She's earned a holiday after a hectic first term and if this boy is going to pay, then let him. It's a
gift.
‘

I smiled at Mum with gratitude, but she still had a stern look in her eyes. I knew she wasn't happy about me going, so she laid down some ground rules before I left.

Mum tried to make me promise I wouldn't do anything ‘stupid', like have sex with Nate. My face had gone bright red, not just because she'd asked me in front of Dad, but also because I didn't know how to talk to her about this stuff. I felt like she'd judge me if I did something wrong, or make me feel silly about being curious. Not that she was a bad Mum at all; she was wonderful. It was my problem. I was naive.

On Sunday morning, Nate arrived in his VW Polo bright and early, ready to pack his car with my gear. He made a special visit inside the house to see Dad and assure him he only had the best intentions and would drive slowly for his daughter. Similarly, he said hi to Josh and Shane, who were completely disinterested in his presence on a Sunday. Treston was a little livelier and punched Nate in the arm as we were walking out the door.

‘Behave yourselves. Don't come back pregnant or anything, or you'll give Dad a heart attack. I wouldn't want that on my conscience.' He grinned at me and waved from the front door.

Mum stood with her arms crossed at the driver's window, with Dad's arm slung across her shoulders. This was supposed to be a happy event and they were acting like they'd lost me forever.

‘Guys, I'll see you on Tuesday night. Don't stress.' I gave them my ‘I'm fine' smile to reassure them.

‘Are you sure you've got enough fuel in the tank?' Dad said sternly to Nate. Nate nodded good-naturedly and pointed to the ‘full' gauge on his dashboard.

‘Do you need to take any food?' Mum fussed. ‘We've got plenty here if you need some for lunch.'

‘Thanks Mrs Brooks, but we'll be there by lunch. It's only four hours away.'

‘Well, have a nice time then. Watch out for kangaroos and cops.'

They watched us drive all the way down the street, waving furiously, until we were out of sight.

‘I'm so embarrassed. Sorry about them. They're just protective of me.'

‘Don't worry. It's cute. You're lucky they care so much about you.'

I nodded. ‘I guess so. So what music are we listening to?'

I reached under the front passenger seat to grab his iPod and connect it to his sound system. The sun was beaming in through the front windscreen and having the windows closed while we drove helped take the edge off the cool air outside. It was perfect weather and timing to get away from Twin Rocks for a few days. Oh how I wished we were living fifty years ago when cars had bench seats and a man could sling his arm over the seat while his girl snuggled up under his shoulder and held him tight. One hand on the wheel, one on the girl. How romantic.

The best I could do in my more current, modern situation was leave my hand on Nate's leg the whole trip and every now and then tell him I was watching the road while I grabbed his face and kissed him on the lips. He laughed at me, but too soon turned his eyes back to the road.

We sang music together, played stupid ‘I spy' games and made at least three toilet stops for me at small garages on the way. Nate surprised me with Cornettos, lollies and chips.

We did see kangaroos; though no live ones. Flocks of ducks would run in a line across the road; I'd see them in time to tell Nate to slow down and I'd pray we wouldn't hit their fluffy little bodies. Emus ran with us along the road until they'd suddenly veer off into the bush. Typically Australian shrubs, sand dunes, long stretches of wide roads and animals large and small roughing it in the outback were part of our drive.

Around midday, we drove past a sign that said, ‘Welcome to Portsmouth. Town centre 4km.'

‘Where are we staying?' I asked, realising I hadn't officially asked names and places yet.

‘In a beach shack.'

‘So not a hotel?' I asked, excited about trying something different.

‘Nope.' His hand rested on my knee, squeezing it gently.

‘Where is it?'

‘Near a beach.'

I rolled my eyes. ‘Good one. I could guess that. But where?'

‘Just past city centre. I'll let you know when we're there.'

His hand slid up my thigh and rested on the inside of my right leg. I froze, wondering if his hand would stay where he put it. He kept driving, casually. I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the numbing sensation running down my legs.

‘OK. How many rooms does it have?'

‘Besides the bathroom, you mean? One.'

He smiled at the road. I said nothing. My eyes grew bigger and he chuckled at my silence.

Finally I asked, ‘So, where do I sleep?'

‘Next to me,' he replied simply.

‘Nate, I thought —' I started.

‘You thought right. We aren't in the same bed, but we are next to each other on single beds.'

‘A minor technicality.'

He nodded. ‘Exactly. You can join mine if you like, but there's no pressure.'

‘Thanks,' I said dryly.

My legs relaxed, getting used to Nate's hand's new resting place. Every now and then he would take it away, needing to turn a corner or change gears, but it would always come back faithfully, in the exact same spot. I was afraid to tell him how much I liked it. Or show it.

Nate pulled up to a small fish and chip shop and got out of his car. ‘Wait here,' he said, briskly walking into the shop.

Seeing the sign Portsmouth Fish and Chips and smelling the scent of freshly cooked potatoes reminded me of my times with Roman. We would have eaten truckloads of chips over the years. Little did Nate know our history with fish and chip shops, and I wasn't about to tell him; I couldn't predict how he would react and, frankly, it was my business with Roman.

It made me sad that I couldn't go away with both of them. Then my life would have been perfect, if not unrealistic.

Five minutes later Nate came out with a steaming package of chips, two drinks and two chocolate mousses. I looked for the tomato sauce automatically, but remembered he wasn't Roman. How could I expect him to know what I wanted without telling him? He wasn't a mind reader. So I ate my chips without tomato sauce for the first time in six years.

We parked across the road under a tree and wound down our windows. The sea breeze was picking up and the potent smell of salt air filled my lungs. I had not been to Portsmouth in a very long time. I vaguely remember passing through it when I was young on our way to another city, with my parents, but other than that this holiday was like a brand new experience.

‘Let's walk,' I suggested after we finished lunch. Nate put our rubbish in the bin and locked the car.

We walked up and down a long strip of white sand, the place almost completely to ourselves. Small sailing boats lined the harbour on one side of the water, with a wharf joining both sides. Children were jumping off the wharf, while Nate and I talked. We spoke about everything from our childhood to our most embarrassing moments to most special. I didn't tire of his company.

The air around us grew chilly. Startled, I checked the sun to see that it had just set; an orange, blood red glow buoying on the horizon. My stomach rumbled and Nate patted it, promising he would feed it soon.

‘What do you feel like for dinner?' he asked, holding me tight against the fresh wind.

‘I don't mind. I'm easy,' I replied.

‘No you're not.'

‘Are we still talking about food?'

‘Of course we're not,' he laughed.

‘Then you decide. Are you easy?'

‘Wouldn't you like to know?'

I smiled, defeated and shy.

‘I know just the place,' he said, taking my hand as we walked to the car.

I was determined to pay for this meal, one way or another. He had paid for everything already and I promised myself before I came I would pay for some things.

A cute French cafe stood on the corner of the main street. Nate swung into a park immediately and started getting out of the car.

The cafe was lit up with candles inside and was made of dark, thick limestone. It looked archaic, like a castle.

After dinner, Nate found our beach shack. It was as good as on the beachfront; from inside we could hear the waves crashing if all was still and we concentrated. Nate caught me smiling at the two separate beds.

‘I won't bite, you know. Unless you want me to. I can make a home-made double bed,' he persisted.

‘It's OK, I like my space. I'm a bit of a star fish when it comes to beds,' I lied.

‘I can be a star fish too, you know.'

‘Oh shush. You're insatiable.'

‘Only for you.' He kissed me, his hands in my hair, mine on his chest.

‘Maybe on the second night?' he murmured, lips still on mine.

‘We'll see.'