Spiral

Aphrodite’s Apples

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This book is an original publication of Aphrodite’s Apples and has never before appeared in print. The story is fictional. Names, places and any similarity to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. Aphrodite’s Apples Press 2207 Concord Pike Suite 441 Wilmington, DE 19803-2908 www.aphroditesapples.com First e-book publish February 2007 Spiral Cover Art © 2006 Aphrodite’s Apples Spiral ©2006 Nikki Watson

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1. The day Elena was waiting for a train at Clifton Hill station, it was beginning to come into spring. The sky was blue and a flock of birds flew low and in small repetitive circles, squawking just above the rails while there were no trains to interrupt them. Across the road, a tram rolled past. Elena knew she should have taken the tram in the rest of the way, as soon as the announcement of train line works had come over the loudspeaker. That had been twenty minutes ago. The station was quiet. So few people took the trains on Sundays, in comparison to the other days of the week. That was why train people were able to get away with doing all the train line work on Sundays,



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causing her train to be delayed forever. Two trains had been cancelled already. Elena looked down at her watch again. The announcement of the train’s imminent arrival resounded over the platform’s loud speakers. She turned her face to the end of the platform where the blue and yellow front of the carriage slowly became visible. She’d said she’d meet Jessica in the third carriage or, failing that, at the Southbank market. She hadn’t been able to believe it when Jessica wanted to be her friend. The other girl had seemed so pretty and full of life from afar. After only beginning to talk to her earlier on in the week, Elena had been surprised when they made plans to meet up with each other socially. She wondered if Jessica would still be there, despite how late she was going to be. It wasn’t that Elena had never noticed Jessica before. In year seven, Elena and Jessica had each been friends with a girl named Sarah. They had run her errands, doing laps to and from the library, where the boy Sarah had a crush on played cards with his friends. Elena did it out of the need to be liked. Jessica didn’t know why she did it. At the start of year eight, Elena stopped being friends with Sarah, because Sarah moved to Canberra. Elena was sick of her friends moving away from her. Jessica was just sick of Sarah. At the start of year nine, Elena’s hair was almost the same length

 as Jessica’s, after Jessica had hers cut. There were a couple of shades difference between the dark brown of Elena’s hair and the shining black of Jessica’s, but they wore similar clothing and held themselves in similar ways. It was easy to confuse them for each other, and it happened often. Elena and Jessica once were standing at the sink in Elena’s mother’s house. They had baked cookies and packed them in two containers for them to keep. They were washing up after themselves when Elena’s mum stepped into the room, and addressed Jessica as Elena. She started when Elena turned around. Mostly, they spent their time at Jessica’s house, and because of that, Jessica’s home became a large part of her life, as was Jessica herself. She had her room and art space set out exactly how she liked it. Later, Jessica took photos of her spaces and made them into a kind of installation, just before her mother sold the house. It could be relied upon that Jessica would be at home, if not at school or with Elena. Elena often visited without notice. Jessica would ask, in softly curious words, ‘What are you doing here?’ In this instance, Elena noticed Jessica’s absence from school. ‘Figured I’d come see you’re okay.’ ‘I’m sick.’ ‘Figured that was why you were pulling a sicky.’

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Jessica put aside the sketchbook she’d been doodling in and averted her head to cough into her hand. ‘Don’t know if I’m contagious.’ ‘I’ll take my chances.’ ‘Come over here; draw with me.’ Elena moved closer to the bed. If the floor was clean, and not just in the organized chaos that was usual, Elena would try for an unobstructed path from the doorway to Jessica’s bedside. Jessica shuffled under sheets that would shift with her body when she clung to them with her elbows, so that Elena had a place to sit on the bed beside her friend. They would often lean back together, against the wall textured by the way the paint had been laid down. Hollow, thin dark cracks ran upwards towards the ceiling. Elena’s eyes sometimes followed those cracks across the edges of the room, above the fireplace that had been boarded up and painted over in the same creamy color as the rest of the house. Posters were clipped up onto the walls—posters that Jessica had bought, or had bought for her, as well as ones she’d designed herself. They were near endless bookshelves that overflowed with books from every library book sale Jessica and her mother had ever attended. The room was home to her in a way that her own room wasn’t. Elena had tried to mess her room in her mother’s house. She’d aimed

 for the same organized chaos that ruled from carpet to walls in Jessica’s room. She’d cleaned it all away again, putting everything in their proper places in her room, and acknowledged it as a failed experiment. She was close, but she wasn’t Jessica. Grabbing her bag from the middle of the train’s third carriage, Elena rushed forward as the train without Jessica on it pulled out of the city station. She sighed, standing at the front entrance to Southbank’s market, amidst people buying gem stones and wooden wares and other trinkets. Jessica had long gone, as if she’d never been there. Elena stood alone.

2. Jessica and Elena spent a lot of time at the Eltham library when they weren’t hanging around Jessica’s house. Eltham was one of Elena’s favorite places of retreat. There was a certain amount of innocence to it; far enough to be out from the popular suburbs where the Australian bush was relegated to the background, but not so far out that it took an hour or more to train there. There were four stops between Macleod and Eltham, and it didn’t take them much longer than ten minutes to get there. After Greensborough, the view out the window improved. Instead of buildings and people running about to get their kids home from school



 on time, there were windswept branches on washed out brown trees. At some times of the year, it seemed like the color of the branches had swept further along the trees and into the leaves that spurted forth with more of a hint of brown than green. But those leaves would still stay on the trees. They would stay there until some cool boy from school decided he was that much cooler than his friends, and jumped up, on the way to the train station, to grab the brown leaves and pull them off the branches. The boy would lose interest and, after short moments, drop those bunches of leaves onto the road without a second thought. Someone might ask: what was the point? The point, when Elena and Jessica came out this far, was to remove themselves from their friendship groups, and ignore their statements that it was unnatural for them to be so close; that they should have more consideration for the people they’d been friends with longer. Elena would often look at Jessica and the silent communication they shared gave them strength enough to go against those who just did not know. Settled amongst the Eltham bush, just before darkness, Jessica and Elena would close their eyes, with hands interlinked, and breathe in the fresh smells of the first leaves of spring, the clean smell of flowing water in the nearby stream that they never followed to see where it led. With only the birds who heralded the beginning of twilight for company,

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Elena and Jessica would regulate their breathing in consideration to one another; slow, deep breaths—in, and out, in, and out—until eventually, those birds’ songs and rustling of gently blown leaves above would be drowned out of their world and all that they were aware of was each other. After that, she met Sam, and he and Elena made plans to find a house in Eltham to live together. Before that, Elena and Jessica would talk there, about sixteen-year-olds’ philosophy, and picnics on the lush green grass. They never did have those picnics. ‘You staying at my place this weekend?’ ‘Don’t have anything else planned.’ ‘Cool. I know it’s silly, my cat died last weekend, but I’d still like to have you round for support now that she’s, you know, not there.’ ‘Of course. I loved that cat.’ ‘She was easy to love; not so easy to pet.’ ‘I’ll just tell my folks it’ll be another weekend when they don’t see me again till Sunday night.’ Elena would smile and reach to clasp Jessica’s hand in hers, before they stood up and got ready to leave. Jessica had a curfew of five o’clock with the expectation that if she was going to be late, she had to use the payphone to call her parents. Elena and Jessica were never on time, so

 the payphone on the Eltham station got a lot of coinage. When they decided on nights that Elena could stay over, the phone got used to make sure that was okay, as well as to tell them that they were going to be a little bit late. Often, after they hung up, Elena and Jessica joked that they were putting the kids of the man in charge of that phone through college. Elena felt comfortable enough to rest her head lazily against Jessica’s shoulder when they traveled from Eltham to Jessica’s house. Upon arrival, their noses led them to the food that was left for them in the kitchen. They were expected to help themselves, and they did. Afterwards, Jessica led Elena into her room, where Elena sat on Jessica’s bed and read the latest additions she’d made in her sketch books, while Jessica lit candles to provide them with enough light to see by. She’d return to sit by Elena’s side and rest her chin on Elena’s shoulder, while her eyes grazed over the lines of small written annotation she had added to the illustration scrawled across the pages. One particular time, Elena tilted her head until it came into contact with Jessica’s, as she read the lines of writing. On the very last page, there was a picture of a girl holding a cat, and just below her, the cat was shown jumping out of the girl’s arms and halfway off the page. ‘Never to come back,’ was written in Jessica’s neat writing at the bottom. Elena lowered the book, absorbing it for a moment, before turning

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around to kiss Jessica’s forehead companionably. ‘Shall we go outside to where you buried her?’ Jessica froze as she stared at the illustration her hands had made. Quietly—for both Jessica’s parents had gone to bed and her mother was a light sleeper—Elena took Jessica’s hand and moved her questioningly towards her bedroom door. Jessica didn’t pull back, and as they stood before the mounded earth, below pale moonlight shining in the backyard, Elena took Jessica into her arms to offer quiet comfort.

3. Jessica was the first one of the two of them to get a boyfriend. Elena had seen this pattern before in friends she had had before Jessica. The pattern was an obvious one, where the friendship that had meant so much to two girls, prior to third party interference, slowly lessened and distanced until one of the girls was left with a friend she didn’t see and the other was left with only her new boyfriend. Elena desperately did not want to watch that happen to her and Jessica. While they were at school, it was fine. Her boy interest didn’t go to school with them. When Elena made her unannounced visits were the times she noticed the distinctly growing change in Jessica’s

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priorities. No longer would she bumble around the house in solitary social ambiguity, but Ashleigh would be there now too. And he would smile, and greet her pleasantly when it was him who opened the door to her instead of Jessica. And Jessica would smile and duck her head self-consciously when Ashleigh was the one to lead Elena into her bedroom. They would have to arrange times when Ashleigh was at work at night, or had uni classes early in the next morning. Those nights continued to belong to Jessica and Elena. Jessica motioned to Elena, who was sitting on the other side of the room, concentrating on her book. Elena looked up, curious to see what had broken Jessica’s concentration upon the piece she was working on. ‘I just can’t get it right. Could you come over here and give me your input?’ ‘Sure.’ Elena was no expert on art, but on Jessica’s work, she knew what worked and what didn’t. And what didn’t work was the patchy, shaded green bit, with what looked like only outlined sketches of two figures in the bottom corner. She pointed to it, turning back briefly to Jessica, who was standing right behind her. ‘So much is happening with the rest of the piece. Why is it so bare over here?’ ‘I haven’t figured out what to put there yet.’

13 Jessica chewed her lip in consternation as her eyes searched over the point that Elena had indicated. Elena could not help but smile, a little tongue in cheek, at Jessica’s answer. ‘You already knew what was missing.’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Then why…’ ‘A second opinion. Here, please hold this. Help me draw what needs to be there.’ It was a lighter shade of the background color, a color that Jessica had mixed just so it wouldn’t be too difficult to go over, if this experiment did not take. This time, it was Elena’s turn to bite her lip, as she tried to concentrate on what was coming out on the other side of the paint-brush. She wasn’t meant to be the artist. She had hardly been able to do calligraphy, when she had tried her hand at it in past years. Jessica trusted her, and so Elena tried. The sketchy image that appeared was two women, walking hand in hand, looking towards each other for advice upon where to go next.

4. They were sitting on a park bench that had been nailed into the gravel-textured cement along the train station, at night time, when the discussion took place. Elena remembered looking up at the few stars that could be seen in the canopy of the dark blue sky. Jessica broke the silence. Elena had known they’d come out here tonight for a reason. Their school year was almost completed now. It was a typical time for life to change and everyone to change with it. Elena accepted that. Jessica began by telling Elena she would be going to visit New Zealand at the end of their final school year; she had family there. Elena knew it sounded like goodbye. Jessica said that the reason she

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15 was leaving was to make sure she could figure out what she really wanted out of life after high school. She wanted to be a part of the bigger world. Their friendship had been nice while it had lasted, but it would be all too easy to let go as soon as they weren’t seeing each other regularly anymore. At least, that was the pattern by which Jessica had watched previous friendships fall down around her before. They had already called Jessica’s parents on the trusty payphone earlier, so neither of them had to worry if their conversation went on for too long. Most of it had been taken up in the lengthy lead up, since neither one of them had wanted to address these issues at all. Now, it had grown into a stilted, uncomfortable conversation, one whose subject matter Elena wanted nothing more than to change. She focused on the stars she could see—that was easier than forcing herself to look into Jessica’s face, while she made the automatic sounds that said she accepted this. She was annoyed instead by the harshness of the orange light overhead. Why did train stations have to be so well illuminated anyway? Was it too much to ask that she might call upon the dark to hide the transparency of her ill-taking this news? ‘Is Ashleigh going with you?’ ‘What? No. He’s not coming.’ ‘Making sure to figure out if you really want him too, huh?’ ‘Something like that.’

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Elena had never been good at goodbyes. She’d just wanted to enjoy the night here in peace. It was a beautiful night. She asked Jessica if she could keep one of her sketch books while she was away and then, once home, used two sheets of paper drawn out from near to the back of the book to write down a letter to her pen pal who lived in Tasmania. Dear Delilah, Tonight I sat on a train station in Melbourne and said goodbye to my best friend. She’s going to New Zealand after exams f inish. You would be proud, I didn’t cry. I was upset, but I apologized and made sure not to leave after making her feel bad. I did everything that a best friend should do, and wished her off fondly.

And now I feel like… low. I’ve spent the last three years of my life intertwined with hers. It ’s weird to think that all stops now.

But everything was easier back then. Easier, and yet harder. Delilah’s letter came back within a week. Elena. You’re right. I am proud. When I would cry, sometimes I yell into a pillow or go out to hit something. You could try one of those. Mostly, those results are easier to hide than tears. Anyway, you said your friend was only visiting New

17 Zealand, right? Maybe she’ll come back again. Life here remains the same. Boring. Nothing changes. Ever.

5. It was a little longer than a month before Jessica returned from New Zealand. They took the first steps towards reestablishing their friendship not long after. Jessica had called to ask if Elena was finished with the scrap book she had borrowed. Elena had been at Sam’s house when she received the phone call. She’d smiled as she answered the familiar voice, and walked out of the living room full of people watching DVDs on couches. Jessica wasn’t there the first time Elena met Sam. He was the first person to meet one of them without the other, and Elena was startled by the jarring sensation that had produced. She’d heard about Sam

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19 before, weeks before she met him, but knew nothing more than that her friend, Eileen, was going out with his best friend, Xavier. Eileen was the one who invited her over to Sam’s house for the first time for social gatherings that had only slowed marginally to make way for the beginning of the tertiary school year. Jessica and Elena’s lives in their first years out of high school drew them into obligations that meant they couldn’t see each other face to face for weeks after Jessica’s return. She suggested that Elena perhaps drop the scrap-book at her house on a day when her mother was home, but Elena pleaded lack of time and held onto the scrap-book till they finally found time to see each other. When they did, it was like no time had passed at all. They sat in a café together and discussed everything that made Melbourne so different from New Zealand, and then about what Elena’s months here without Jessica had been like. Elena ducked her head and told her that her own cat Casper had died over the holidays. As she said it, she was forcing a smile to her face and lifting her eyes to the hand Jessica placed on hers, in consolation. ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘You didn’t do anything.’ ‘I wasn’t here.’ ‘You needed to be away.’

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‘I know. But… we know our lives echo each other.’ She ducked her head then, and gave a chuckle that wasn’t entirely without bitterness. ‘I feel as though I should have known your cat would die after mine did.’ Elena accepted that. She smiled, lifting her hand from under Jessica’s in order to touch her chin and show her that there really was no reason to be apologetic. Months had passed by. They really couldn’t expect for life to have stayed the same without them. She told Jessica about Sam, and his friends, which led innocently enough to questions about Jessica and Ashleigh. ‘Did you decide to start seeing him again?’ ‘Technically… we never really stopped. He sent an email to me the day after I left. I didn’t read it for a week, but after that, I checked it more often.’ ‘Oh. Well, that’s… good.’ Too bad she hadn’t thought to email her. She’d just taken Jessica at the word she’d been given, about very little internet access. Elena refused to be jealous over it now. It was water under the bridge. ‘Here, I brought your scrap book with me.’ ‘Fantastic! I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever see it again!’ Jessica opened it onto their table, shifting around the mugs of half

21 finished latte and hot chocolate to make room for it. ‘Do you remember when I was drawing this, and you came over and sat next to me, and wrote a story about what this picture depicted?’ ‘I remember.’ Elena’s eyes moved back and forth dreamily, as they turned over pages made of nostalgia. A waitress came and took their mugs away; neither of them even lifted their heads to thank her. When they were done, they tipped well, as their apologies for rudeness. ‘You and Sam?’ ‘Nah, I don’t think so. Not more than friends.’ ‘Really? Why not?’ ‘Well, I have things to do. And I’ve only just met him. And I’ll never get to be the world traveler you’ve become if I let myself fall into the role of ‘girlfriend’.’ ‘Oh.’ And they walked towards the familiar train station after their coffee stop.

6. Early on, Elena started to realize how very different it would be between Sam and Elena, compared to Jessica and Elena. The two girls’ bond was based in their history together. Ashleigh had already changed that twosome. Sam, in his way, drew them back to level ground. A childish play began between Sam and Elena one night after four o’clock in the morning. This was a period of time that had previously been dedicated to Jessica and Elena, when they cried on each others’ shoulders in the dark privacy of Jessica’s room, and lamented the world’s inadequacies. Sam had a happy-go-lucky charm that seemed to suggest nothing was anything but exactly the way his will had commanded it to

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23 be. ‘Privacy’ in Jessica’s room was a relative term; it meant only the times when Jessica’s mother did not wake up in the middle of the night and start walking up and down the hallway, happening to catch snippets of their conversations on the way. In Sam’s place, without parents, his friends could be as loud as they wanted, and nobody’s parents would bang on walls at early hours of the morning to tell everyone to be quiet. That job was left to other residents in the blocks of flats. The first time Elena stayed the night at Sam’s house was after Eileen dragged her to a shopping center where her boyfriend was meant to be. Xavier and Elena took part in the cursory greetings made between people who had nothing more in common than a mutual friend. Then Xavier turned around to introduce his best friend Sam, who was standing up from one of the sticky chairs in the middle of the third floor food court. He made a quip about the quality of the food sold there, as he drew back his hand before Elena had time to shake it. Eileen invited Elena over, on Sam’s behalf, to a movie night that she, Xavier and Sam had organized. With no good reason not to, Elena gave herself in to these plans, with Sam’s permission, of course. ‘You’re certainly welcome to come, if you like.’ ‘Do I need to bring anything?’ Sam looked to Xavier, the hint of a smile creasing little lines around

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his eyes. Then he turned back to Elena. ‘No, too easy. Just bring yourself, okay?’ As Elena followed Eileen into Sam’s flat, she looked around. The front door opened to a large living-room-slash-dining-room area, at the far end of which was the smoking window. The only door in the room opened up to Sam’s bedroom. From there, another door led into the toilet-slash-bathroom. Moving past the door to the bedroom, still on the left, was the kitchen. This, she would find, always contained several packets of pasta and a box of Kellogg’s Sustain. On the right was where the TV and game console were hooked up on a wooden shelving unit. All empty spaces were filled with videos and DVDs. Eileen made herself comfortable on the couch in front of the TV, while Xavier lit up a smoke with one hand, opening the window with his other. Elena sat awkwardly on the arm of the couch, near where Eileen already had the remote control and was idly flicking through channels. She wasn’t quite sure where she fit in, in this little group. ‘Make yourself at home. There’s the kitchen, for all your food and beverage needs. Help yourself, ‘cause it saves me having to do it.’ Sam flashed a boyish grin, which turned to a grimace as he closed his bedroom door on the mess inside. He joined Xavier by the window, and they started talking in lowered tones. Elena eased further onto the

25 couch so that she was sitting next to Eileen, passively watching her flick through, too fast for Elena to actually get a sense of anything that was playing on the television. Xavier finished his cigarette, and the two men joined them in the main part of the lounge room. Xavier curled up on the other side of Eileen with an arm splayed over the top of the couch, and Sam pulled up a beanbag that he settled into, just after he picked out a DVD for them all to watch. Pizza was called in and devoured. Not so much by the girls, but the boys lived up to stereotypical appetites, with no outward shows of strain. After the pizza boxes were discarded to the side, Sam opened a packet of peanut M&Ms into a bowl, which flowed its way across the couch, down to the beanbag, passed back and forth absently while attention was given to the pictures on the screen. Elena noticed, from the sound of Eileen’s nasal wheezing, that her friend had fallen asleep. Even the boys looked tired, though Xavier was proposing one last cigarette before they fell asleep on the couch. Which would leave Elena with the comfy floor to support her during sleep. She didn’t much like that plan. Using a clichéd yawning movement to propel herself up off the couch, she strolled, seemingly leisurely, towards the closed door that hid Sam’s bedroom—the key word being ‘bed’—and there would most

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certainly be one of those for her to steal, if she got there first. It was an unspoken rule that the people who fell asleep first got the optimum sleeping arrangements. She took too much time, and Sam happened to look her way. A guilty expression passed through Elena’s eyes, giving her away instantly, and forcing Sam to leave his friend to his last smoke in order to race Elena to that bed, in his bedroom. Forever afterwards, both maintained they had gotten there first. Sam complained to her that she had dug her knees into his back, thus crippling him forever. Elena protested that she had merely held the sliver of bed that had been left to her after he spread out over the rest of the single. He argued that they hadn’t had to sleep head to tail; she replied she’d done that to keep it more casual in the morning. ‘You know, there is a stretcher-springy-mattress-thing outside that I could just roll out for you to sleep on.’ ‘I’ve found stretcher-springy-mattress-things really never are all that comfortable to sleep on. But if you think you would be more comfortable out there…’ ‘No, no, I think in here is fine. I’m just worried you won’t have enough room to sleep in.’ ‘I’d have enough room if I didn’t think moving an inch to my right would end in your big toe going up my nostril, but other than that…’

27 Sam shifted his weight to the side a little, giving Elena that small amount of space she requested. Elena breathed out, ready to settle herself into sleep, and not as uncomfortable as she might have allowed Sam to believe. It was dark, and so the mass of stuff Sam kept in his room was shielded away until morning’s first light. They almost talked that long. Well past four o’clock in the morning, finding out many things about each other, from the mundane to interestingly sordid facts. She found out his birthday was two days before the date her cat, Casper, died.

7. It was easy to believe there was a Perfect One for everyone out there; that each person would find someone who complemented them in every way, someone they would be utterly content with for the rest of their lives. Elena longed for this fantasy to prove itself in reality. It was a secret she kept closely guarded. After waking up to scenes of her parents fighting in the bedroom across the hall, growing up, Elena had been all but disillusioned of such folly. Despite her assertions to the contrary, the close friendship between Sam and Elena continued to grow. With the growing inseparability of Ashleigh and Jessica, the respective men in Jessica and Elena’s lives

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29 became a popular subject of conversation for them to pore over on their coffee meet-ups. They visited cafes more than bush land parks, after Jessica came back from New Zealand. It was a change in the dynamic of their friendship, but the same essentials still remained. They could still talk to each other about most things. ‘It’s kinda nice having him around. Almost like another version of you for when you’re… otherwise occupied… only male, and someone who’s socially acceptable to date.’ Elena flashed her eyes up to Jessica, realizing too late what careless words had been allowed egress from her mouth. She covered the words as best she could with new ones. ‘You know, if I wanted it to go that way with him.’ ‘Sure. And I’m sure that’s never crossed your mind. I know what you mean, though. With Ashleigh, I can feel things start to happen. You know, like life things; like I’m growing up.’ Life and the struggle for personal growth had always been high on the list of Elena and Jessica’s things to strive towards. They supported each other by always wanting one another to be the best they could be, as though they could never be truly happy otherwise. ‘Does that make you happy?’ ‘What?’ ‘That perspective on life and growing up with him. Does he make

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30 you happy?’

‘Well, we fight sometimes. But that’s what people in a relationship do. It’s practical. Nobody wants to hold everything in.’ Elena wanted to. She never wanted to act out a repeat performance of her parents, by any light. To Jessica’s unquestioning statement, she smiled, and ducked her head, so her friend could not see the disagreement lighting her eyes. She only hoped that being with Ashleigh would not cause Jessica pain. If she could hold it in, then it would go away. Nobody would ever have to know about it. Sam understood her consternation about turning out like her parents, in a way that Jessica didn’t. Sam was what Elena might have been, if her parents hadn’t separated before her dad could carry through on his threat to kick her out when she was sixteen, saying, ‘Well that’s what my father did to me.’ ‘I’m the one who has the worst father.’ ‘Nope. That would be me. I can prove it, if you like.’ ‘Prove away. But this house is my living proof.’ ‘Standing, anyway. I don’t think any of the timber this house is made of is ‘living’ anymore.’ ‘Well, sure, if you’re going to go all literal on me.’ Most of their discussions on opinions they had that begged to differ were ended with pulling funny faces, and poking tongues out at

31 one another, as though either of them could not possibly come back with a valid rebuttal. They argued over directors’ choices of actors in films, and kicked each other from opposite sides of the couch, to give each other excuses to touch each other when Xavier and Eileen were over. Eileen and Xavier were giving each other knowing looks, long before Elena or Sam ever admitted to themselves that anything was going on. Elena didn’t know exactly when she stopped feeling the lack of her random visits to Jessica’s house due to Ashleigh’s presence, or when she reconciled herself to the fact that they were growing up, not growing apart. She never stopped feeling vague antagonism towards Ashleigh. Jessica proved the better person between the two of them, for she and Sam could be quite civil to each other, even when Elena wasn’t around.

8. Elena wanted to travel to Ireland. This had always been the case, and it wasn’t so much a surprise to Jessica that she arranged a flight that would set her halfway across the world, as when she had set that flight. ‘But… what about Sam?’ ‘If I don’t do it now, I might never go.’ ‘And you want to leave now, before you get more emotionally invested in him.’ ‘Yes.’ Jessica nodded. It was an understanding of sorts. Even if it wasn’t the path Jessica herself would have taken, Elena watched her best friend

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33 come to terms with it and accept it for Elena’s sake. This time, it was Elena’s turn to move away. ‘When will you be leaving?’ ‘Less than a month’s time.’ ‘So soon?’ ‘Didn’t see much point in leaving it. That’s as long as it will take to get a Visa passed through. I figure I’ll need to work while I’m over there; it being so expensive on that side of the world and all.’ ‘Will you write?’ ‘Of course. Wouldn’t dream of losing touch.’ The two girls reached out for each other, clasping their arms around each others’ bodies, holding and letting themselves become awash with sensations that would become too foreign to them during a year on opposite sides of the planet. It was the first time that they would be apart for such an extended amount of time since the beginning of their friendship. As they held each other close, they ached to hold onto everything about this moment that would make it memorable until they could have it again. ‘Hey, are you two all right? Nobody died, did they?’ Both girls looked up at Ashleigh’s voice from Jessica’s doorway. He held a hand up towards the doorframe and just lingered there, watching and waiting, until he had verbal consent to enter the room with them.

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Jessica took a shaking breath, which drew Elena’s attention back to her, and Elena dropped her arms slowly as Jessica ran a hand through her black hair. ‘No, of course not. Elena and I were just discussing plans.’ She glanced at her best friend with a look that only the two of them could share. ‘Life plans.’ Only her mother was surprised when Elena came home with the open ended ticket to Ireland in her hand and the official itinerary printed out. Her mum’s eyes glazed over, as though it was some kind of joke, and somehow, in that moment, the actuality of Elena’s plans sunk in. She wouldn’t be merely moving out, like Sam had when his father had kicked him out and told him to fend for himself. Elena would not be in a position to walk over to her mother’s house, or even take public transport there, if she didn’t have enough money and had run out of milk. She would be half a world away, with the ticket safely tucked into her passport as her only means of ‘public transport’ home. Elena made certain her writing and books and most precious things she would not be able to take would stay safe in Jessica’s possession. Most importantly, she left with her the pink teddy bear, Sue. The bear had been with her from the day she’d been born. Also she left a picture of herself, standing in the middle of a park when she was six years old.

35 She didn’t forget to send one last letter to Del before she left, telling her that she wouldn’t be at her Melbourne address anymore, but would write to her as soon as she knew her new address once she arrived. Time seemed to fly between when the tickets were bought and when Elena’s bags were packed, lined up and sitting on the floor. Wardrobes were left open, their emptiness speaking volumes. It didn’t feel like Elena’s room anymore. Everything had been tidied on the promise that after she was gone, her mother wouldn’t need to do further cleaning. ‘Cleaning’ in this case, meaning shifting Elena’s belongings around so that she would have no hope of finding them again when she returned in one year’s time. It was a promise Elena really didn’t expect her spring cleaning mother to hold to for very long after she was gone. Her bedroom light was turned off, as was every other light in the house. Outside, one streetlamp shone into the room, illuminating it dimly; enough so that Elena could see the contents of the room, little enough that the barrenness could be overlooked if one was determined to do so. At two o’clock in the morning, everything was very, very quiet. Every sound and creak in the house could be heard. It was obvious when someone walked down the hall. Elena’s mother spoke with her daughter, for the last time she would do in a full year. Hushed whispers

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and quiet words were lost to the dense night air. A cocoon was relegated to only them, as visibly as though a door had closed them in. ‘You’re not usually up this late.’ ‘I couldn’t sleep.’ ‘Oh? How come?’ Her mother shot her an appropriately mothering look, one that said Elena could only understand after she had children of her own, children who decided to move to Ireland. ‘Couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that my eldest is flying out of the country in seven hours.’ ‘Oh no, couldn’t have anything to do with that.’ Elena grinned in the darkness, as she leaned into the steady comfort of her mother and lightly kicked her heels against the edge of her bed. She’d thought, as she had lain here the night before, of how she would not be sleeping in this bed again for a whole other year, or until she flew back from Ireland. As she spoke to her mother, she subtly stroked the bed sheets, soft under her hands. ‘Do you have any idea of what you’re going to do once you touch down in Ireland?’ ‘Find the hostel I looked at on the internet? Set about sleeping off my jet lag, probably.’ Elena’s mother decided that her daughter didn’t sound anywhere

37 near as organized for the other end of her flight as she would have liked. ‘Just so long as you call me when you arrive there. It doesn’t have to be for long, just a phone call to say you are fine. Followed by a longer email saying the same thing.’ ‘Yes, mum.’ Outside of the room, utterly unrelated to them, was the ticking of the kitchen clock. Small whines from their dog could be heard from out the back. The shift of a bat’s moving wings as it flew overhead; a possum scampering ungainly over telephone wires out the front. Elena knew her awareness of them all was heightened. It had been the same with the movement of the clouds in the blue sky; during days she’d wondered if it would any different on the other side of the world. The sharp trill of a mobile telephone ring tone rang louder at two thirty in the morning than in the middle of the day. Elena jumped up to catch it off the bedside table, before it woke the up whole house. Her mother made a quiet exit, kissing her daughter on the cheek before getting back to sleep early enough to wake her again for an early morning flight. It said ‘Sam’ on the Caller ID. ‘Thought you were going to visit me once before you fly off to greener pastures.’

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‘Hey, I’m sorry. I thought it would be too late by now.’ ‘A promise is a promise. However late you make it.’ ‘Guess you’ll have to hold me to it then. Meet me at Watsonia station?’ Elena picked up the last jacket left in her wardrobe, left unpacked for equal reasons of not liking the cut of it as much as others, and that it just didn’t fit inside her bags.

9. Sam and Elena met on the bridge over top of Watsonia Station at two thirty in the morning. He arrived before she did. Even in her large, shoulder-heavy jacket, Elena still felt the chill of the early morning. ‘Look, you’re freezing. Let’s get back inside. I’m staying at a friend’s house tonight. He lives near you. It won’t take long to get there.’ He took her arm in his, and there was no question that she would follow him. Indeed, though sleep-deprived, cold, and starting to get kind of peckish—dinner had been more than eight hours ago—it didn’t occur to Elena to veto what he suggested. Once inside, Sam checked the thermostat on the wall, next to the

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door, before sitting beside Elena, not too close to crowd her. Crowding was not the issue. With the warmth of the room and their numbly staring at the television, Elena’s eyelids drooped shut before she realized. Only when Sam jumped up in front of her, patting her knee energetically, did Elena become aware of her surroundings. ‘What? What is it? Am I late?’ A quick glance at the blinds in front of the window showed that it was still dark outside and slowed Elena’s panicked breathing. She began to relax again, under Sam’s watchful eye. Still, Sam was having none of any return to the lull that had taken them momentarily. ‘Come on, this was your idea to be up all night. You look like you’re about to fall asleep, if you haven’t already.’ ‘Do not…’ Sam stared at her skeptically, before leaning forward and grabbing her by the arm, pulling her up so that she was standing next to him. ‘Uh huh. We need a new plan. One that isn’t going to involve you falling asleep on my couch before your flight to another country.’ Elena faced him with a lopsided smile, then stretched, yawned, and stretched again. Her eyes blinked as she sought to keep them wide open and alert. As Sam was the only other person in the room, it made sense for Elena to fix her eyes on him. She shook her head, and he raised one eyebrow as she opened her mouth to speak.

41 ‘This won’t do. We can’t stay here.’ ‘What do you suggest we do?’ ‘I say we go for a walk. Anything is better for staying awake than this temperature, right?’ ‘Oh. You say, do you? Well then, if you say… I guess I’ll go along with it, this being your last night here and all. But don’t get used to it!’ They turned the television off and left the room exactly as they had found it. As soon as Elena stepped outside, she felt the cool air sweep through her and wake her up, in the exact way that the warm air had led her towards sleeping. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it. Come on, let’s walk’. Elena grabbed Sam’s hand and led their walk, back down the driveway. She was determined to do something about the hunger that was not going away, for all her ignoring it. Sam followed, in bemusement, behind. This time, they were unable to complain about the cold, since they had chosen it. It was four o’clock in the morning and the local bakery had its door open slightly. The shop was not open yet; it was only time for baking, but Sam and Elena could smell the sweetness coming from inside. Elena grumbled, and her stomach echoed the sentiment. They settled for stopping off at the B.P. to buy a Big M and some chocolate through the window, after they watched the fat man behind the desk

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wander through the shop to get what they asked for. ‘Oh, that’s nutritious.’ ‘Quiet, you.’ Elena stared at him defiantly as she opened her chocolate bar and took her first bite out of it. Then she extended her arm to offer some to him. After making fun, he still accepted, and she raised her eyebrow at him knowingly. False dawn began a soft glow at the edge of the horizon. Elena realized they should head in the direction of her house. They didn’t have long now. Sam came with her. ‘Oh god, it’s already six-forty!’ Elena looked across to Sam. She was able to see him clearly now that the night had made way for full morning. She felt cheated that it had crept up on her this way. ‘Well then, don’t let me stop you.’ ‘Well, I won’t then!’ She made the retort smartly enough, but after she moved to walk away, she doubled back again to make sure he was still there. ‘You’ll email me while I’m gone?’ ‘Definitely.’ Elena turned away again. Then about-faced a second time. ‘And you’ll let me in on what’s going on back here?’

43 ‘Exactly as it happens. I’ll show how brokenhearted I am around our mutual friends and then we can joke about it together.’ ‘Exactly!’ Elena grinned at that and rolled her eyes comically, bunching her hand to her heart and pulling a funny face, never giving another thought to his apparent ‘broken heart’. She thought he was joking. He still hadn’t moved a step from where she’d left him. Elena smiled, slightly reassured. ‘Good.’ She seemed about to turn away for a third time, then hesitated. This time, Sam couldn’t hold back his fun-making at her expense. ‘Oh, for God’s sake, woman! Just go already.’ ‘Okay. Okay! I’m really going this time.’

10. Elena had thought she loved Australia’s outback; the dry, washed out colors that burnt into the blades of grass and leaves of trees. Ireland was entirely different because every single one of nature’s colors seemed to be imbued with a drop of the same rainfall that made Ireland so well known. It was those immediate differences that were exactly what Elena needed. Everything about Ireland shone. Everything about Ireland glittered and smiled, from the people who had brought her through customs to the sun and blueness of the sky. Her first impression of Ireland outside of the airport was that it was greener than Australia. Inside the airport

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45 in Cork, she was convinced by the sunny faced clerks that people here were nicer too. They seemed almost to be at their jobs because they enjoyed helping people. Even when Elena’s stomach began to growl with the first pangs of reminder that she had not eaten that day, her jubilation about the country could not be dimmed. Even when the next bus riding from the airport into town was four hours away, Elena’s enthusiasm was not dented. Even when she realized that the Euros she would need in order to keep herself adequately funded for the duration of her stay here were sadly lacking, Elena didn’t let it get her down. The bus did arrive, and food was not so difficult to scavenge in a Youth Hostel. Road signs read in both English and in Irish. It was not only unexpected, but very cool. When Elena reached the hostel, it both looked and didn’t look like the pictures of it she had pulled up online. For one thing, it was taller, from the bottom, looking up. There were trees lining all around the property, with people standing around the front decking talking and laughing to one another. They obviously knew each other very well. Elena felt very small within the larger scope of other people who had decided to do this traveling thing, and were so much more worldly than she was, as she made her way up those front stairs, in through the hallway, to the front desk. By now, her bags were feeling very heavy on her back, and she wished for nothing more than some more food and

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She didn’t have any way of accessing the internet here, so a phone call to her mother would have to do on its own. On the third storey of the hostel, she sat down at the window of her new room and began to pen down the beginnings of letters back home—one to Jessica, one to Del. Hey you. Ireland hasn’t rained once yet. That ’s one perfectly good stereotype gone to waste. Although I haven’t been here all that much time yet. Maybe I should give it a chance.

In itself, Ireland is… Ireland is fantastic. It ’s everything as pretty as I expected it to be. The living out of my own pocket with no one to rely on but myself… that part ’s just a little harder than I had expected.

I’m not going to have a constant snail mail address while I’m here, after all. That, and it ’ll take longer for mail to come over the great, wide ocean to here. How about we move these letters to email? I don’t know when I’ll get regular access to the internet, but at least they’ll be waiting for me when I go to check for them.

Elena wrote down her email address underneath in small, neat characters, so there could be no mistaking the individual letters. She

47 folded each letter, set them in their individual envelopes, and wondered why, on the way here, she hadn’t kept her eye out for where the local post office shop was. Hostel number two came to Elena as a far bigger boon. No more was she expected to pay her nightly rent; she won herself a job working for food and board. Elena found herself instantly smitten with the refurbished estate turned hostel. It was spacious but homey. The shared lounge area where she waited to talk to the man in charge of the hostel was huge, with a fantastic view of the lush greens and open spaces commonly found in the Irish countryside. On the first day there, she hitchhiked into town with one of the other girls who worked there, and found where she could access the internet again for free. On the second day there, she took a bus tour around the Ring of Kerry. On the third day, she enquired about the horse riding sessions that were held for one hour, two hours and three. She thought it would be best to start out on one hour, since it hadn’t been since high school that she’d last ridden a horse. She got the pre-nervousness that came to her every time she did something that she hadn’t done in a while. On the fourth day, she wrote emails to Jessica, Sam and Del, before logging off and checking out the rest of the town at more length. It was getting dark by the time that she realized she should head back, even

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though Killarney wasn’t really the kind of place one had to worry about that. The fifth day brought news in the form of an email that Del had inherited money from a grandfather who had just died. With that money, Del was giving thought to a worldwide trip, starting with Ireland, in order to finally meet the friend she had talked to for years, but never met in person. She asked if Elena would mind. Elena emphatically did not mind, and almost as excited as Del herself about this plan, she set about typing out a quick, enthusiastic reply. Del and Elena would meet in Ireland within a matter of months, just before Del’s planned move over to New Zealand. Time in Killarney moved slowly for Elena. Those were weeks filled with reading, many games of solitaire, and the beginning of her tea drinking addiction. Otherwise, it was a quiet, reflective time. The leaves began to fall from the trees.

11. Pebbles crunched underfoot. Elena was returning to the old Irish manor after her move on to another hostel, migrating north in her travels of Ireland. Her hand was firmly stuck in Sam’s. Time away had only improved her memories of the hostel and, seeing it again, Elena felt those feelings coming back. She had hugs for the girls she’d worked with there, as well as for the two daughters of the man who ran the place. Sam had flown over from Switzerland to visit her. ‘Mum is going to Switzerland to visit my sister. She’s buying me a ticket for a Christmas present. You still in Ireland?’

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50 ‘ Yes.’ ‘Want me to visit?’ ‘ Yes!’

They each paid half of the price of Sam’s overnight stay. Elena was not charged for her stay, as she was still considered an employee of the hostel chain. In the narrow hostel room, Elena and Sam gave each other Christmas presents, beside the one double bunk in the room for them to sleep on. To Elena, Sam gifted a black medieval top, and a necklace with a purple pendant set in silver. Elena gave Sam a thick silver ring with a Celtic design. She worried that it would not fit him. The only finger it fit, after trying every single one, was his left hand, ring finger. ‘Damn it, how did I know that was going to happen?’ ‘Clearly, we were meant to be for each other.’ ‘Oh yeah? Says who?’ ‘Says that ring, boyo, the ring you can’t seem to wear on any other finger of your hand.’ Elena felt herself grow righteously smug in the time before they tussled over which bed they would each sleep in. What they both wanted was to sleep beside one another, but not before it had been admitted by the other first. ‘Okay, yeah. I wanted to sleep next to you.’

51 ‘I didn’t.’ ‘What? But you said…’ ‘I lied.’ ‘Well fine then, if that’s the way you…’ Elena extended her arm over his body laughingly, semiconscious of the way her breast grazed against his torso as he rolled back towards her. She stopped him moving further before he got too huffy at her. ‘Okay, so I didn’t lie. You know, until I lied about lying. But you’ll forgive me.’ ‘Will I? How can you be so sure?’ With a pout that she was sure Sam couldn’t really see in the relative dark of the bedroom, Elena rolled away from him, onto her back and pushed the pout into her voice. ‘Because I’ll make it worth your while.’ She kissed him, and it was perfect. It was unlike every practice kiss that she had made with boys at holiday houses over the summer, or ones she had had in her dreams over crushes in high school. It was nothing like the boys she’d kissed to try to make some spark happen after they asked her out and she was too polite to say no. It wasn’t like anything she’d ever experienced, and then it was over, and Elena had to try to hide her pout this time. ‘I dunno. I’ve had better than that.’

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Sam’s silhouette was stroking his jaw in contemplation. Elena arched her eyebrows, feeling a sense of déjà vu come upon her as fun was made at her expense. She propped herself onto her elbow, supporting her head with her hand and looking down at him daringly, even if he could not see her expression clearly. ‘Have you?’ ‘Maybe.’ Really?’ ‘Possibly. Okay, no.’ ‘No?’ ‘No.’ ‘No what?’ Sam smiled up at her, taking her arm out from under her and positioning himself so she fell almost on top of him—and certainly into easy kissing position—when she lost balance. ‘It was a great kiss. I’d like to do it again.’ And he did, this time taking the lead himself and stroking her hair out of her face with a gently caressing hand. Elena closed her eyes, not that it made much difference, but in the midst of the mood, it seemed like the thing to do. And then there was no thinking, only instinct, and Elena wasn’t sure when she was placed on her back, or when Sam’s hand stroked down her side, though he was careful not to push

53 what he thought might have been too far on their first night together. Elena smiled, darting one last peck, as she thought he was the perfect gentleman. Elena lay her head down on Sam’s shoulder, as he wrapped his left arm around her. She lifted her hand to his bare chest and felt his heartbeat resonate through that hand. Moaning, she curled herself deeper into his hold.

12. Sam only admitted to her once they were in Ireland together that he had liked her from that night. It was then that he came clean on his reaction to her sleeping in his bed that first night. ‘I slept with my head at the foot of my bed for a week after, cause the sheet smelled like the shampoo you used, since you didn’t use the pillow. Go on, make fun.’ ‘What? I’m not going to make fun. I thought you hated me then.’ ‘The only reason I acted like that was ‘cause I assumed you’d lose interest if you knew otherwise.’ Elena looked off to the side noncommittally, but Sam was quick to

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55 leap on the answer she didn’t give. ‘See, I was right, wasn’t I?’ ‘Well, maybe. I was going to another country too, you know. It wasn’t just about losing interest.’ ‘But you were intrigued by me.’ ‘I don’t like it when people don’t like me.’ He stroked the side of her face, twining his fingers around her locks and smiled at her so there could be no mistaking his feelings. ‘I never didn’t like you, babe.’ Indeed, Sam told her about a conversation that he and Xavier had on that very subject, amidst warm bubbles of a spa bath in Xavier’s backyard. For as circumspect as Sam had been with keeping his truest feelings under wraps, he had been unable to keep them from his best friend and other half. ‘You like Elena, don’t you? Come on, don’t bullshit me.’ Sam had been left in the heat, with nothing to say in his own defense and only a slow nod for admission. ‘Yeah. She’s the one.’ As she took him up from Killarney to Kinvara, Elena imaged all the things she wanted to show him of the life she had made for herself over here. They never quite made it outside of the hostel, apart from when the hostel managers drove them to the Irish Pub, named

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Shaughnessy’s, two nights a week. It was a place with wooden floors and candle lighting in fixtures set into the old, stone walls; where open fires were continually stacked and checked on for further heat that wasn’t already being supplied by the number of warm bodies inside. The furthest Sam and Elena would wander from Shaughnessy’s was down to another pub, further down the main street, that made Irish coffees with real Baileys and thick cream. Sam loved cream. Elena gave him hers when they went out for desserts, and the waiter forgot to leave hers without. He would eat it on its own with a tablespoon, while Elena screwed up her nose in distaste. It was entirely possible that he ate cream with a spoon all the more often after noting her reaction, in those early days. Sam didn’t complain about the extra cream he received from her, apart from when she took all of his ice cream in return for it. Sometimes the night was so still, so perfect, and Elena would walk him down the night time streets, holding hands in the sparsely populated country town with cobblestone alleys still intact. She would lead him to where the bay leaned into the town center, and where the boats bobbed up and down on the calm ocean, alone and deserted but for them. Elena would stand in front of him, and a shudder would make its way down her back when she felt his arms go around her, and he would shift away her hair from her neck to kiss her there. Elena would move her head to the side so that she could enjoy the sensations

57 he caused to run up and down her body from that simple gesture. Then she would turn around in his arms and be kissed by him, by only the light from the waning moon. The two would always arrive in good time to Shaughnessy’s after their romantically ill-lit evenings out, lest they be stuck in the middle of town and 40 minutes walk from where they slept together. Their return would usually include a quick goodnight word spoken to the hostel owners, before they retired to the privacy of their own room, with whispered words and subtle caresses leading them to the bed they shared, where they lay spooning each others’ bodies and sating the heat that had arisen between them during the passage of their night. Still, there was no penetration. She didn’t know if Sam had bought protection, and Elena didn’t quite know how to bring the issue up. In the quiet season of the hostel, Elena and Sam shared a bedroom on the second floor. By pushing two of the bunk beds flush against each other on the first night, they were able make almost as good as a double bed for themselves. Sleeping so close to each other, they usually only used the width of one single bed anyway. Sam would often stroke her hair at night, when exhaustion got the better of her resolve to stay awake for as long as she could with him, and her body would give in to the rest it needed. Elena refuted all of his arguments backing up her body’s wishes, saying that she had plenty of time to sleep proper hours

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He thought it adorable when she pouted. She thought it was annoying that he found it adorable. ‘Stop it.’ ‘Stop what?’ ‘Well, that innocent expression for one thing. You know what you were doing.’ ‘How am I supposed to know? You haven’t told me yet.’ ‘Don’t act like I’m the crazy person here. I saw you giving me that look.’ ‘I’m not allowed to look at you now?’ ‘No! Not like that.’ ‘Like what?’ ‘Like I’m a day old kitten with a case of the grumps.’ ‘So let me get this straight; I’m not allowed to look at you affectionately?’ ‘No.’ ‘No what? No I’m not allowed to look at you affectionately, or no I am?’ ‘No you… you know what? I know what you’re doing. Stop confusing me.’ ‘Stop what?’

13. Elena and Sam shared their evening meals together in the communal dining-slash-living room. While this was fine when there were few other guests having dinner at the same time, it made it difficult for them to have a private conversation when conscious that other people might be listening in. Sam watched Elena in amusement as she pitched her voice not only too low for others in the room to hear, but also too soft for him to hear her, from merely just across the table. She gave up after rolling her eyes, and begrudgingly seeing the funnier side of it. Sam took her hand across the table and told her he liked it when she smiled. That only made her smile even more, and then

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it didn’t matter anymore that there were other people sitting in the dining-slash-living room with them. After they both finished their meals and waited a couple of moments for the food to settle, Elena tilted her head towards the doorway with a look that said, ‘Shall we leave now?’ Sam helped her do part of her job by clearing the tables used for dinner of dishes, and the few assorted condiments left on the table, after she had taken all she could carry. He followed her lead out of the room. In the hallway between dining room and kitchen, Elena turned back to him and mouthed, ‘I love you’. For the rest of that night, all through chilled reading and passive watching of television, Elena watched him act like nothing had transpired and panicked, over whether Sam had seen what she hadn’t actually said, or if he was ignoring it so as to avoid a scene. Did she really love him? She knew she cared for him, but love was a much bigger commitment to make. He hadn’t said it to her yet. What if she was the only one who felt like that? Watching him over the pages of the book she had picked up from the trading rack, Elena carefully snuck glances at him while he was going through a magazine he had picked up. He glanced up at her, with one cynically raised eyebrow—which informed her that her covert glances had not been so covert—before putting down his magazine and

61 giving her his full attention. He eyed the door, questioning that they might like to return to the bedroom they shared and, taking her hand in his, he led her to the relative privacy they had here. ‘Is something wrong?’ ‘Wrong? No, nothing.’ ‘What’s bothering you?’ ‘Nothing, I… I just…’ Elena pouted. She didn’t care what he thought about her. But why hadn’t he said he loved her back? ‘It’s just I mouthed that I loved you earlier, and you haven’t said anything back, you haven’t even acknowledged it and I—’ Sam smoothed over the rest of her words by slanting his lips across hers and taking her into his arms, and it very quickly got much hotter in there. ‘I didn’t even notice. Is that what you’ve been tying yourself up about tonight?’ Elena ducked her head, squaring her mouth while she told herself that she would not be embarrassed about this. ‘No, of course no– maybe.’ ‘I love you too.’ ‘Really?’ She smiled into his chest, a bright smile that wiped all of her

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former concerns into oblivion as she relaxed against his body. Elena leaned her head against his, thankful for the weight of his arms around her. ‘I knew.’ Her voice was muffled, but she knew he’d heard her when his arms tightened around her and the vibration of his laughter bounced against her cheek. Later, she realized that those moments of inner turmoil she’d experienced could not have been so different to the ones Sam had felt, in the months when he’d he liked her without saying anything to anybody. ‘After this, nothing will be so difficult for us to live through together.’ ‘I love you.’ ‘I love you more.’ ‘I loved you first.’ ‘I loved you last.’ The first dozen times they said that to one another, it was unending bliss in a world where they’d had no idea they could be so happy and in love. They said it with love shining out of the eyes they gazed at each other out of, lifted their heads and their hearts and nothing could break that unity between them.

63 The last time Elena spoke through the steps of the ritual they’d created between them, Sam wasn’t there, and she screwed up her mouth and lowered her eyes.

14. Elena lay her head against Sam’s shoulder and they both read the magazine Sam was holding. Sam moved to turn a page, but looked towards Elena to make sure she was finished. She raised her eyebrows and shrugged. He turned the page. Elena didn’t mind what they were doing. He would be leaving soon now. They had already had most of their days here together. She was content to just lean against him and bask in his company while he was still here to give it. Tea light candles that would later be forbidden as a potential fire hazard now nonetheless lit up the room from all corners, and flicked dancing shadows of Elena and Sam around the walls. Elena

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65 stared at them peacefully, as Sam continued in his attention towards his magazine. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been staring into space when her gaze returned to him and she saw that he was staring at her. Smiling a little self-consciously, Elena ducked her head and avoided his gaze. ‘No… don’t.’ He beseeched her further by tipping his thumb under her chin and lifting it, so that she had no choice but to look at him. ‘That’s better.’ While Elena was still smiling, no trace remaining of that hesitation that had filled her eyes the moment before, Sam leaned forward to steal a kiss from her. Taking a deep breath, Elena stood up and took his hand, leading him gently towards their bed. When he was sitting there in front of her, Sam stared at her in curiosity that was soon giving way to calm acceptance, as she made the move to straddle him. He lay down fully on the bed and demonstrated that she was allowed to make any moves she was comfortable with making. The taking of Elena’s innocence was the perfect picture of romance. Elena stared at him for a while, moving slowly closer as she watched Sam passively watching her, waiting for her; and she was teasing him, with that very willingness to wait. She teased him still further when she kissed the corner of each of his lips, and her hips already seemed to

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instinctively know what they were doing as they exerted light pressure over his growing sex. There was enough light given to them by the candles that Sam could make out the cheeky expression in her eyes, moments before she gave him that kiss that he was waiting for, and she clung to him tightly as she did so. As Elena looked into Sam’s eyes gazing back up at her, she realized that she was all he saw in the moment before he lifted his head towards hers for their second kiss. It would have been quite tender, if there hadn’t been the press of need pulsing between them, just beneath the surface, and rising ever higher. Swallowing, Elena kissed him back, as the passion flamed up around them like the candles in the room. She always remembered the kisses from his lips that were shaped full, but soft, and caressed Elena in every place they grazed over. They were firm and warm when pressed against hers. His cool hands against her warm sides sent chills up and down her, though it didn’t make her complain this time, like she usually would, before pulling additional blankets around herself in the Irish winter season. Her skin was heated wherever she was touched by him now, and that was what kept her warm when Sam’s hands found their way underneath the clothing she was wearing. He made a murmur of approval when his fingers found her breast peaked at the end, erect already with the pleasure he was giving her, and the goose-bumps

67 lifting the skin of the breast around it. Inexperience was tossed aside for instinct as the layers of their clothing were discarded. Elena did no more than glance towards the growing pile before Sam drew her attention back to him with fondly whispered words in her ears, and affectionate caresses from his olive tanned hands that dwarfed her own. Lovingly, she traced the outline of those hands as he regained the top position and Elena was lying on her back, restlessly moving against the pillows as he continued to explore her body. Her lace bra was the only material separating their bare skin from each other. The blankets covered all lower areas from eyes, but not hands. Sam took her left nipple into his mouth, rolling it smoothly between his teeth, watching for her reaction. Her lips parted, and when her back arched from the bed, Sam was able to remove that bra before his eyes closed blissfully at the contact of her moist warmth pressing temptingly against his hardness. Elena looked into his eyes, her own seemingly worried by the look on his face, until he soothed away that worry with another caress that drew away stray hairs, fallen over her face when she’d tossed her head against the pillow in her pleasure. Biting her lip, Elena smiled at him, before reaching down timidly to touch the length of him with her fingers. His breath came out in a rush at the first contact, and then he

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was moving his own fingers to test the hot well of lubrication her body had already produced, for him to penetrate her for the first time. He inserted one finger, massaging around her entrance, while his thumb stayed back to flick her clitoris. Elena fought to keep her eyes open and on him while the new sensations flowed over her, rocking her body closer and then receding against his hand. ‘Wait…’ Elena gasped the word out rawly. Sam’s finger stilled in her, and he looked at her questioningly. Elena avoided his eyes, now not sure what to say, considering that she had gotten his attention and just like that, their play had stopped. She was hesitant, but serious, when she asked him her question. ‘Do you have a… a, you know…’ Sam blinked, then it dawned on him, and he bowed his head over his body with shoulders slumping for a moment. Kissing her on her forehead, he walked over to where he kept his bag in the corner. From the bed, Elena watched him, her body still feeling the imprint of him like an ache. She held her breath while he rummaged and finally found his wallet, pulling out a shiny, colored packet, safely intact. Then he turned to her again, and the look in his eyes distracted her as he opened the packet and pulled himself a little so he was hard enough that the condom slipped over his skin without trouble. Elena’s breathing started

69 again with a gasp. He reached her side and lightly flicked a nipple that peeked out from behind the blanket she held to her body, before he joined her on the bed again. Chocolate brown eyes gazed into her green ones, asking a silent question, before he attempted to mount her again. His fingers edged back to her center, feeling for her wetness and devilishly inducing more, while she writhed under him, and then he entered her, slowly and with more regard for her than for his own immediate pleasure. Elena clung to him with hands bunched into fists and drawn around his shoulders, holding them together between his bare shoulder blades, as he moved back and forth against the outer edge of her opening, stimulating her but refusing to push in any further, until she thought she would go crazy from it. Only when she begged him, in the quiet darkness of the room, did he enter her, so fully that she gasped, before her breath leaked out of her mouth in a soft hiss. It came from between her teeth amidst his whispered declarations of love, as he stroked her first to her orgasm, and then his own. Afterwards, their breathing came less ragged, and the sheen that covered their bodies dried a little. Elena rolled over, her whole body feeling limp and sore and sated all at once. She tried to reach out for Sam’s touch, bringing him back to where he had fallen back onto

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the bed after the event. Her stamina wore out mid-reach, and with a chuckle, Sam leaned over to drag her into his arms and hold her there, while they both fell to sleep.

15. They promised each other they would stay awake the whole night before he left. Elena spoke of how friends of hers had once said that she would find her Perfect One in Ireland. Sam laughed it off, saying friends of his had been sure the two of them would end up together, as soon as he reached her in Ireland. Elena rested her eyes only for a moment while watching a movie snuggled up against him, with the warm sensation of his arms flopped around her. She started awake again after a dream caught the back of her eyelids, that it was already the next morning and he was driving down the driveway without saying goodbye to her, before she’d woken

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up just in time to run after the car, and still miss him entirely. Waking up for real, Elena shuffled even closer to him and clung to him, assuring herself that he was still there, at least for now, and she really, really hadn’t fallen asleep. Sam put an arm around her comfortingly, and curled some of her hair out of her face when she hid behind it. ‘Maybe we should end the movie watching and go upstairs together instead.’ Elena smiled up sleepily at him, until she realized what she was doing, and readjusted herself on the couch so she was sitting more upright. ‘You know, I’m getting this sense of déjà vu.’ Elena grinned, more awake this time, even going so far as to stand up. Sam stood next to her, his arm still around her, and they headed towards the door next to each other until realizing that the logistics of the two of them walking side by side through a narrow space wouldn’t really work. Smiling and shifting her body forward, facing back for a tender kiss, Elena grasped his hand and led him upstairs. Quick, quite kisses were shared between them with an edge of desperation as the sky lighted in the single little window over the kitchen roof, coming to touch them even in their solitary upstairs room. Sam held her in front of him, memorizing the look of her into his

73 memory, even as she told him not to because she looked ragged with bloodshot and tired eyes. He turned to pick up his bags from the corner, while Elena kept her arms tightly around herself, telling herself she would not cry, she would not cry. There were tears in her eyes as she clung to him one last time in the early morning light. She walked with him down the stairs, through the kitchen, down the stone path in her bare feet, turning away in the last minute because she could never say goodbyes well. Elena didn’t sleep in the room they’d shared after that. He flew back to Switzerland to meet his mum and from there, they went to Rome before returning to Australia. Elena declined their invitation to go to Rome with them, to be in the hostel for Del’s arrival. She never did see Rome. After Sam left, Elena slept through most of the day, and cried quietly in her new room later on in the day. When she finally deigned to leave her room, it was to a pleasantly placed package sent from Australia, leaning against her door and falling flat onto the floor as soon as she opened it. The letter had Jessica’s name and return address and, just hugging it to herself, Elena felt the ground steadying under her again. She sat in the window seat, that later became Del and Elena’s work space where they dragged both of their laptops, and madly keyed

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down all of the writing that most recently came to their brains. There, she opened the package Jessica had sent her and smiled at the CDs, artwork, the hand-made angel and other letters Jessica had written to send her. Pieces of home. Pieces from Jessica. Elena treasured them, and in them found strength enough to go downstairs and face the rest of the hostel. Less pleasantly, Elena found increasingly worried emails from Del in her inbox, dated from the day after she had gone to meet Sam in Killarney. Elena, Am I still meeting up with you in Ireland in ten days. You are picking me up from the bus stop in eight days, aren’t you?

’Lena, This isn’t funny. my passport just came through and all I’m waiting for is your word that it is still happening f ive days from now.

Elena, are you still there?? She realized then how terribly neglectful she had been of the outside world while wrapped inside her bliss bubble with Sam. She went about revoking the trouble she’d unconsciously caused in her friend’s mind by that absence. Dear Del, Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Yes, of course, I am still

75 coming to pick you up. And everything is still as was planned. I am such a terrible person. Sam’s been staying here for the last week and… we didn’t really get a lot of time to go online and check our emails. But I’m here now! And if you need to send me anything or ask any questions now, I’ll get back to you real soon this time.

Love, Elena. As well as finally replying to Del, she sent an email to Sam, hoping he’d had a good flight and returned to Australia safely and also to Jessica, letting her know she had received and loved the package she had sent.

16. When Elena had first come upon the job at this hostel, it had been on the heels of someone who had ‘not been quite right for the job’ and she’d taken it because of its central location to all of these ruins. Australia didn’t have ruins that didn’t have electrical wires poking out of the destroyed walls. Australia wasn’t old enough. Elena was sure that her loving descriptions of the Irish scenery had had their part in helping to convince Del to fly over. Elena was asleep when Del first flew into Ireland. The phone call came through to the owners of the hostel, saying that Del had just landed in Dublin airport and she was just about to get onto the bus that

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77 would take her to Galway, 20 minutes’ drive from Kinvara, where she would be staying. When Del called a second time, Elena was down at the beach near the end of the road. She felt closer to Sam there, knowing that now he was back in Australia by now, on a beach trip in Ocean Grove with his friends. Elena’s absence from the phone, on both of these occasions, may or may not have lent worrying credence to Del’s fears, that her mother had been right about this ‘Elena’ being a 60-year-old man, pretending to be an 18 year old girl, since they’d only been writing to each other. After Elena returned from the beach, and her extended perusal of the ruins on her way back home, the hostel manager told her of the phone call she had missed and had the car all ready to go. When Del and Elena met for the first time, it was at a bus stop in Oranmore. Del had described herself as the one who would have long red hair and a lost expression. Elena told Del that she would be the one excitedly jumping back and forth across the road, trying not to get run over by the cars that were zooming in her direction. At the bus stop side, they clasped each other in joyful glomps. ‘Glomp’ was the word used when someone hugged another person so hard that their eyeballs almost rolled out of their head. It had been named when Del visited Stephanie in New Zealand. It stuck.

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There was soon cause for Elena to hear from this other girl, when Stephanie sent emails for Elena to ‘Take care of her girl… or else!’ When asked, Del gaily announced she’d shared Elena’s email address with her New Zealand best friend, in case something between flight and arrival had gone wrong. In the following weeks, Del became very proud of herself for introducing her two girls to each other, when Elena and Stephanie continued emailing one another. Slowly, a friendship between them grew, in much the same way as Elena and Del’s had evolved. Elena suggested she might organize to move over to New Zealand, after she was finished with Ireland, and Del had moved there. Then Stephanie would be able to ‘glomp’ Elena in person. After the initial excitement of Del’s arrival to Ireland wore off, the two girls began a pattern of living together. There were no cause for money issues within this hostel that housed them, fed them, provided internet for them, and paid them in return for the small odd jobs they were required to do around the hostel. They were not supposed to sleep in beyond ten a.m., but most often, after nights spent down at Shaughnessy’s, even the owners of the hostel would take a sleep in. It was a time away from life, in the midst of the Irish countryside. The girls brought the four bunk beds in their room flush against each other and draped the duvets over the edges of the top bunks. They

79 slept above while leaving all their bags and clothes spread out beneath, naming their distinctions ‘up-world’ and ‘down-world’. They were forced to move everything back to exactly the way they had found it before they left, and when they had to share their room with another bunker for a week out of their stay, they became most protectively displeased. Downstairs, there was only one computer, which the two girls had to share. As Elena often rose earlier than Del, she would get first use of the computer; chatting to Sam online before he went to bed in her mornings and then again some nights, before he left his house to go to work. Elena made sure to keep her emails to Jessica quite regular, detailing for her best friend the most up to date tales of Elena and Del – together at last.

17. All roads in Ireland lead to the same place. It was a saying Elena put to test during the daytime hours of her stay in Kinvara. As it was edging into twilight, Elena would make sure to double back to the hostel, as street-lights were a thing yet to be invented on most of the roads outside of Kinvara’s actual town center. Only after Del started joining Elena on walks after dinnertime did Elena venture the strange paths, no longer being alone at night. It didn’t matter which paths they took. In the end, they were forced to come to a very solid discovery: Kinvara was a very small town. But that was half of its allure.

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81 Most of the lights would be off by the time Del and Elena got back from these walks. Only the light in the kitchen would light the backdoor path for the girls. Inside the hostel, Elena and Del filled many nights with ‘Tea Runs’ and the computer. The laps they went around for tea was an easier sport in Ireland than when they moved to New Zealand. In the hostel, they had a ready boiled water machine in their kitchen that never got so much use as when Elena and Del were staying there. Intermissions on the use of their one computer were decided by the times it took for each of them to get up, refill their mugs and replace the old tea bags with new ones. As the night progressed, intermissions became dictated by whenever their bladders insisted that they got up to relieve their tea-filled bellies. While Del had run upstairs to relieve herself, Elena opened a monitor window to speak to Xavier in Australia, just as Sam left for work. He was barely gone before Xavier’s small talk stopped and he came to personal questions. ‘So what’s really going on between you and Sam?’ ‘What, you mean he hasn’t talked to you about it?’ ‘Nope. I haven’t seen a lot of him since he got back. Seems like everyone wants a piece of Sam. And every time I ask, he just smiles and walks away.’ ‘Sounds like him.’

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‘Sounds like you’re part of the family now.’ ‘ Yeah, that’s what Sam said when he was here.’ ‘Everyone’s really missed you while you’ve been away, you know.’ ‘ Yeah. I know.’ When there was nobody left online and nothing left to reply back to, Elena and Del would turn the computer off for the night, make their last cups of tea and sit in the kitchen, sipping at the hot liquid until it grew cold and no longer kept their fingers warm. Upstairs, they had duvets and flannel pajamas to keep them warm. They would often lie in their beds till the later hours of morning, talking about everything they had done during the day, before talk gave way to the heavy eyes and brains that could no longer comprehend the paths their conversations were taking. The work in the hostel didn’t take up most of the day. Still, the night was a favored time for the girls. Night in Kinvara was almost always clear, opaque blue, with no inner city lights to obstruct people’s natural view of the sky after dark. One could look up anywhere in Kinvara and see straight to the moon only ever obscured by fluffy, white clouds in passing. Spots of bright light, pin-pricks in the sky, twinkled dim and bold. The sight of stars was at first strange to a person who had grown up in a city where smog filled even the night sky, and took those delicate points away.

83 Del and Elena linked arms and strode confidently through empty, night streets. Elena would remember and point out places she had been with Sam while they breathed heavy air that took on smoke shapes and floated until dissipation. They never parked far from Shaughnessy’s. On Tuesdays, the group of local singers, players of lyres and fiddles, would gather to share their music. Elena and Del shared a song there with the group of local musicians on one of their last nights before flying back to Australia. When Del and Elena sang with the group they’d admired from their warm seats by the fire all the months they had been there, their hearts felt full, and they knew their journey was complete. Their notes came out nervous but vibrant, and all the more harmonic for it, in the soft melody that accompanied them. Rides home from Shaughnessy’s were often jovial and loud spoken. High spirits were raised in the course of an evening, and time was required to mellow down again. Narrow strips of light beamed from the front of the car to light slim avenues before them, and such landmarks as ‘Brown Cow’s Tail Flickering Over Calf ’ or ‘Place in the Stone Fence Where Drunken Driver from Shaughnessy’s Had an Accident’ were commonly pointed out. It was on one of these rides that Elena sought Del’s hand, in the dark of the backseat of the car. Del looked at her friend quizzically but little of private nature could be discussed in the car while the hostel

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owners were still close enough to hear them. The two friends retreated to their room and ‘up-world’. Del softly closed their door behind her, then came into the room staring questioningly at Elena, who perched on the bed and dangled her legs fitfully over the edge. ‘I’m thinking of going back.’ ‘What?’ ‘To Australia. I’m going to go back.’ Elena and Del went on their nightly walks as ever they had. They went outside and wandered around paddocks by day, leaving the paddock they were in if they appeared to disturb any cows unduly. Elena had a bad case of cow fear and had no love of the idea of being run down by one who saw little old her as a threat. Outwardly, they were the same; two friends living and working together in a hostel in the middle of Ireland. Inwardly, they reconciled themselves to the fact that it now had an end. Elena smiled as she thought of Sam. Months had passed since he’d left and she still missed him enough that she didn’t much like the idea of staying out of Australia indefinitely, as had been her plan before his visit. She looked at Del and Del could see her friend’s heart shining out of her eyes. Del sighed, a sound fitting for a cynic who wasn’t sure she believed in ‘love’, but the way she smiled and held Elena’s hands said, more than words,

85 that Elena had her friend’s support. Elena booked a return flight to Australia and came into their room to share the dates of it with Del. Del used the phone to confirm a nearby date for her to fly back, on her open ended ticket. They tried to organize being on the same flight somehow, but with the differences of their tickets and airlines, it just wasn’t possible. The surprise of her return would have been a great one to keep, if Sam hadn’t been planning on booking a ticket to fly to Ireland for her birthday. Telling him resulted in his elation, and also in her telling Jessica, in the next email she sent that way. As they asked her also, if she was sure, Elena looked out of the window to the stone driveway. Beyond that were the paddocks that stretched out as far as the creek, where Del and Elena sometimes went out to throw stones and talk. A gentle breeze rustled across the long, uncut grasses. Elena looked back to the computer monitor. Her hands poised over the keyboard and she smiled a little smile. She was sure.

18. Elena and Del made their initial goodbyes to each other quietly, in the shadows of their ‘down-world’, instead of going out to Shaughnessy’s on their very last night. ‘It’s so weird to think of you going. That I’m not going to get to see you everyday anymore.’ ‘I’ll visit you in New Zealand, even if I don’t end up living there after all.’ ‘It’s not the same.’ Del shook her head and moved closer to where Elena was sitting so that they could embrace. Elena counted herself lucky for the closeness

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87 of the friendships she had. Between Del and Jessica and Sam, she thought she had it all, even if she would be forced to revert back to distant letters and emails sent impersonally between them. Elena played with Del’s red hair, and begged her not to cry. ‘If you cry, then I’m going to, and goodbyes are always hard enough.’ When it came time to go, the hostel managers dropped Elena at the bus stop just outside Kinvara the next morning. The bus would ensure Elena got to the airport she would be flying out from. Elena’s lower lip trembled a little at, that but resolutely pulled her backpacks from over her shoulders and handed them to the bus driver, who had jumped out of the bus to help her load everything on and make sure it wouldn’t roll around inside the compartment. Elena gave a last, teary look to Del. They didn’t exchange words now, though they had agreed that Elena would call Del back at the hostel once she got to the airport. The two girls clung together in the middle of the street, reminiscent of their first meeting at the bus stop in Galway. Swallowing hard, Elena made herself farewell salute Del, and thank the hostel managers, for making her bundle of memories from staying in Ireland and the hostel so pleasant. Like Stephanie had managed to do from her, Elena managed to get a promise that they would take good care of Del until she left

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the country as well. Del rolled her eyes when Elena told her that, and reminded the other girl that she had a bus she’d better board before it left without her. Four hours later, Elena had checked her luggage onto the next airplane, and looked around for the familiar look of a pay phone to call Del from. The phone was answered on its second ring with a heavily breathing voice. Fondly, Elena smiled on her end of the line. ‘Elena?’ ‘Yeah, it’s me.’ ‘Wow, this is so weird, talking to you over the phone.’ ‘I know.’ ‘I miss you here.’ ‘I miss you too. We’ll have to do this once we’re both in Australia again.’ ‘Definitely. Safe flight.’ ‘You too!’ Elena hung up after the conversation. She still had yet to figure out where exactly she was meant to go next in the monstrosity of Heathrow airport. She told herself it couldn’t be that difficult. Thousands of people rolled in and out of here everyday. When she finally found the gate she was meant to be at, the plane was making its final boarding calls, and Elena was just gaping in gladness, that she’d only come close to missing

89 her international flight back to Australia. After waiting minutes more, for people even later than she was to get aboard, Elena tried to feel interest in the magazines the air-hostesses put on planes, and liked to advertise as if they were interesting. Truth was, nothing about flying was interesting, except for the lift of the taking off, and that was always over way too quickly. The plane rolled heavily down the runway. Elena looked out of the window. After they lifted off the ground, she had to think of what she was going to do to occupy her mind and body for the other 23 hours she was in flight. Her face pulled a grimace at that thought, and she tried to distract herself by how the terrain below slowly shrank with the distance that the plane flew away from it. Idly, she thought she could make out the hostel and surrounding lands, but in truth, it all looked like differently colored patches of land, with nothing more to differentiate it for Elena but the green and brown and yellow squares. Elena brought out her journal and one of many pens and started writing. The lines she wrote were jerky in fitting with the plane’s movements; the ink was blotchy from her left-handed smudging. She looked up at one of the air-hostesses and requested a glass of red wine be brought to her, the next time she came past. Taking a sip of it when it came to her, Elena looked down at the page to see what she had written, and began to add to it.

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I haven’t written in this for a year. Not since the night before leaving for Ireland. I meant to… Oh god, Sam,

I’m so tired right now but I can’t sleep and I could cry from the exhaustion, but to cry would be to lose any hope of sleep that I might have on this flight.

I want nothing more than to talk to you right now, in person, but that will be mere hours away from now and so I guess this will have to do.

I wish this flight was over already. I wish that I was lying in your arms instead of having to worry about connecting flights or luggage and realizing that the itinerary they gave me is wrong and I will be at Melbourne airport three hours before anyone will be there to pick me up. But that is all a whole other sleepless night away for me still.

I slept quite easily under these same conditions on my way over. Shouldn’t have taken that so for granted, I suppose.

It must be at least 4am… somewhere by now. I can’t wait to see you.

19. ‘Mobile phones to be switched off at all times in the airport terminals’. Signs with larger-than-life pictures of comic mobile phones proclaiming this wisdom were only outnumbered by the green and orange signs calling out for anyone wanting to buy things duty free. There were also brightly colored ones kindly reminding people to check anything that might contain wooden, animal or food items through customs tacked all around the walls. Elena walked down the corridors in jeans and a loose t-shirt that she felt like she had been wearing for twice as long as the flight. The

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clean clothes she had packed had only lasted her two thirds of her flight, and after that, Elena’s only option, if she wanted to change, was her old clothes again. She hoped she didn’t look as bad as she felt. She decided that she was glad after all that Sam was working during the day, instead of being able to come here and pick her up. She really didn’t like flying. Once Elena got to the luggage collection, a sniffer dog on a tight leash walked up to a dark haired man’s hand luggage, while he waited for it to roll around the luggage train till it was right in front of him. He looked at the dog curiously for a moment, before the woman holding the dog engaged his attention and asked him what he had packed in his bag. Elena looked the other way. She was glad she’d found an apple left in one of her backpacks from one of the days Del and Elena had gone out to Galway for the day and been too cheap to pay for lunch in the city. She’d had no contact with anyone who wasn’t a fellow passenger or flight attendant for the last 36 hours, accommodating for the time differences and stop over delays. Passing customs, Elena felt herself dying for contact with her friends and was impatient at every set-back involved in the long process of getting from the plane to the arrivals lounge, where she hoped the Skybus would not take long to arrive. She was looking forward to the inevitable welcome back socializing

93 that would begin tonight after Sam finished work, but only if she was left to her own devices long enough to have a good, long shower, and find some very clean clothes. She didn’t want to even touch her skin, knowing both the hand she would touch with and skin that she would be touching would have a sticky sweat residue, which Elena found quite unsettling. She and Sam had planned that this first night with her home would be their night alone. Elena would be staying at her mother’s place until she could find another shared house to fit into. Tonight, Sam and her mum would get to meet each other—Elena hoped they would like each other—and after that, they were organized to go out with Xavier and Eileen for dessert and coffee. In Melbourne airport, amidst all the people meeting with their people, and trolley boys rushing past, and people asking for coffee but decaf and with skinny milk, Elena searched her luggage for her little purple mobile phone. She turned it on. The phone rang almost as soon as she fished it out. Sam had called her on her last night here and, as she looked at the caller ID, she almost expected that it would be him this time, too. It wasn’t Sam. Of course, it couldn’t be. Elena knew that he would be at work until five. It was Eileen. Elena couldn’t help the smile that came to her lips as

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words burst out of her mouth, in her eagerness to speak to a friend that she hadn’t seen for almost a full year, now. ‘Eileen! How are you? Why are you calling me? You couldn’t wait until tonight? Oh wow, I can’t tell you how good it is to hear from you.’ ‘I’ve been trying to call you for hours. Nobody knew your flight itinerary.’ ‘I just got in now.’ ‘Elena. Sam’s dead.’

20. Silence filled up the whole of the airport. The people who were walking with their people slowed to a stop, as did the boys with the trolleys. The coffee drinker asked the rest of his questions in silence and never ever got his coffee. Elena couldn’t quite understand what she had been told. Each of the individual words made sense, but the way Eileen had put them together immediately made Elena think her friend had been talking about something else. Her train of thought led her to Eileen’s boyfriend; Xavier was the closest boyfriend Eileen had ever had. Each time before him, whenever she’d been faced with a break-up, it had

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been Elena whom Eileen had gone to, always distraught, always in tears. Elena had always wondered what would happen if Xavier broke up with her. She didn’t like the results that came up in her mind, and so she didn’t think it through too fully. Perhaps Xavier had broken up with Eileen today, and that was the reason for this desperate phone call. But no, she couldn’t explain it away to herself like that. Eileen had said ‘dead’. Did that mean Xavier was dead? Oh god, poor Eileen. This was horrible. Not even the kind of thing that Elena could imagine happening. ‘Xavier’s dead?’ ‘What? No, Xavier’s right here. Elena, where are you? You should come straight over.’ She was moving through the airport numbly. Her mouth was getting out the right flow of words to say, but she was barely aware of them. She tried to make herself more aware of what was being said. The Skybus hadn’t arrived yet. Elena wondered if it had come and then left again and Elena just hadn’t noticed because she’d been too far into her own world to see outside of it. Did it matter that the Skybus was always painted a bright shade of orange? The white noise slowly started disappearing from her temples and her ears, and Elena resurfaced again, unwillingly. The tears in Eileen’s voice registered then, and caused Elena’s awareness of tears that she

97 hadn’t even realized she’d let fall, and people were giving her wide berth now, as they walked around her. The words spoken, in her friend’s voice almost seemed to start making sense, then, except the words she used were strange and not quite real. Eileen’s voice was infused with tears, and she was sobbing out loud. Elena felt her hand slowly going numb, and she forgot she was holding a phone up. ‘Dead? No…’ ‘He died two nights ago. We didn’t find out until yesterday morning.’ Dead while I was writing to him, and I didn’t even know. ‘How?’ There was more sniffling on the other side of the line. More people were looking at Elena now. She was showing more of an outward reaction to this news than she knew. The world of the airport was closing in on her, and she blinked her eyes a couple of times to see through the tears that she didn’t know she was crying. A middle-aged woman came close enough to touch Elena’s arm to try to bring her back to her surroundings, but she was inconsolable as she brushed that woman’s hand away and tried to hear more clearly every single word that Eileen was saying in a tense, overly calm voice. ‘It was a hit and run. Nobody has any idea who might have done it. Xavier drove past it last night. He didn’t know.’

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Flashing lights and sirens and people yelling out and taping the area in fluorescent, yellow police tape. Elena could see the car wreck run through her mind even as Eileen was relating it to her. Night’s silence, broken by abrupt tragedy. No more pin-pricks in the sky; all drowned out by flood lights and torch lights and the moonlight calamity. She was allowed the illusory grief of something not quite believable, while alone in the airport. In the airport, nobody knew Sam, or the disaster that had occurred and could not be changed. What was not changed was the happiness of people meeting their loved ones. Elena would not meet with her loved one. The middle-aged woman was still somewhere near Elena when Elena pulled the beeping phone away from her ear, sometime after Eileen had hung up, after giving her the address the rest of them were currently at. ‘Who was he?’ The woman had obviously heard the ‘D’ word and guessed, correctly, by Elena’s reaction, of what had happened. ‘A friend. He is my…’ The ‘is’ should have been ‘was’ but in the moment when Elena recognized that, the conversation was too much for her, and she went to stand outside, knocking her knees together and silently begging for the swift arrival of the Skybus. That would take her to where everybody else who was not her currently was.

21. Eileen and Xavier and Jessica were the ones who greeted her, in the living room at the address Eileen had given her over the phone. Jessica had brought Ashleigh with her, and a blonde male called Mike, whom she’d only known vaguely before she moved to Ireland, stood in the living room. Mike’s blonde hair, usually tied back in a neat ponytail, was forgotten in a disheveled mess around his face and compassionate blue eyes. Jessica tried to catch her gaze through bloodshot eyes above her high cheek-bones. Her usually clear skin was made blotchy by the crying. Ashleigh stood behind her, trying to be a comforting presence for her, but looking mainly awkward.

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Elena saw the terrible truths flooding out of their eyes, and her knees gave out beneath her weight and the backpacks she was carrying still, from Ireland. Mike leapt forward to catch her and help her into a chair, his hand lingering on hers a moment longer to ensure she wouldn’t lapse again. She didn’t lapse again; she made sure not to face any of their eyes directly again. They were a somber half dozen, including Sam’s mother. Elena stared out numbly at the garden outside of the window, while the rest of them spoke in subdued tones. She knew not what she stared at. Her heart slowly began to grow cold. The others talked. Xavier’s jaw clenched and unclenched and he paced. Eileen, possibly the only person in the room who was shorter than Elena, went shuttling between his side and Elena’s, not knowing what to do any more than the rest of them. It seemed likely she was only moving around to stop herself from falling apart in a corner, and crying the rims around her eyes even redder. ‘How are you doing?’ ‘I don’t know what to do.’ ‘Xavier keeps saying that. Maybe you should ‘not know what to do’ together.’ Mike and Jessica stared at her from the other side of the fully occupied lounge room, utterly unacknowledged by Elena. Later, Jessica

101 asked Elena why she had refused to look at her, in particular. Elena answered that the very fact of Jessica knowing her as well as she did, and being able to spot the lies of hiding that danced behind Elena’s eyes, meant she couldn’t have hid if she had faced Jessica’s gaze. She’d wanted to hide for as long as possible. Elena kept staring through the window. The sky was so blue, with hardly a white cloud to mar it. The driveway was clear and on its upward slant, Elena expected to hear Sam’s jaunty step taking him up to his mother’s house. All his friends were here. She ended up talking alone with Xavier, after all. ‘Do you hate me?’ ‘No. I was angry at you for being out of the country but… not now.’ Elena nodded. That was fair. Elena was angry too. She just didn’t know who to be angry at yet. She and Xavier had walked down the slanting driveway, but Sam had not come walking up halfway to meet them. They kept on walking. To the end of the street. To the park across the road. To the path in the park that was across the road. She was in silence, and Xavier was thinking. ‘I’m going to say something prick-y now. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I need to say: I hate this; the way you’ve swooped in and got everyone’s attention. It just sucks.’ ‘Have you even opened up enough to let anyone see you’re hurting?’

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‘That’s not the point. And I know it’s petty. And I’m not proud of it. I just wanted it said.’ ‘All right. Do you mind now if I say something prick-ish?’ ‘Go ahead.’ ‘I hate how you’re seen like a brother to him, and I’m nothing… just another friend.’ Sam’s mother called Xavier’s mobile phone while they were walking. Xavier gave Elena an apologetic look as he picked up, then his attention turned to the phone call. After a few terse replies, he hung up and said they were needed back at the house. Elena nodded. They had said as much as they would, if not as much as they needed. She bowed her head and followed him back. The light of day was really bright during those following days. Elena hated that. It was like the middle of summer in the beginning of spring. It was sunglasses weather, only Elena didn’t own any sunglasses. In her state of loss, Elena returned to what was familiar to her while she was in Melbourne. She returned to those unannounced visits to Jessica’s house, and Jessica was at home most of the time. Ashleigh was spending a lot of time finishing his university degree, so he wasn’t there. That was okay with Elena; she didn’t want to be faced with her red eyed shame in front of more people than was absolutely necessary. In those little ways, it felt almost like things were normal—or at

103 least the way they had been before Elena had met Sam—if by ‘almost’, the unannounced tears at any kind-hearted sympathy were considered normal. Other, familiar, areas became foreign to her eyes, in day and night. The train station, when she finally went back to her mother’s house, became blurred through her tears. Her mother’s and other people’s questions, on ‘how was she doing?’ produced those same tears. Elena quickly grew tired of that well-meaning pain. She just turned the music on her player up louder, and pretended she couldn’t feel any of it. Funeral plans were made around her. She was given the illusion of being part of the planning, but it was yet another illusion in a long line of them. People stepped forward and backward in an unordered dance, offering platitudes that it would get better with time; that they were sorry for her loss. Elena stopped hearing those words after a while. They didn’t make things better; they made things worse. Every time it was mentioned, the tears that were never far off would always well to her eyes anew. She walked the suburbs blindly, not reaching out to anyone; not feeling she had the right to the pain, in the wake of what Xavier and Eileen had to be feeling. They had been the ones at his side, at a party in the hours leading up to the hit and run. Del had emailed Elena as soon as she returned to Tasmania, and

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Elena happened to check her inbox, finding the innocently excruciating letter asking how she and Sam were doing. Sam died. His funeral is in a couple of days. I don’t know what I’m doing here.

Elena. That email was very quickly replied to, along with Del’s concern and request for a phone number she could reach her on. Elena handed over her mobile number, but didn’t really expect Del to call. She did anyway. ‘You’ve been very difficult to contact.’ ‘Yeah, I know.’ ‘Oh honey… how are you—’ ‘Don’t ask. Please. There’s already so much of that going around.’ ‘Okay…’ Del’s voice fell to quiet contemplation on the other end of the line. Truthfully, Elena found more comfort in that. It was a moment more until Del asked her next question. ‘What are you going to do now?’ ‘I dunno. Give me a reason I shouldn’t move over to New Zealand after all?’ ‘No reason. You’d be more than welcome to, if you want. I’ll give you my flight details if you want to try for the same flight?’

105 ‘Nah. It won’t be that soon. But we’ll keep in touch about that, all right?’ ‘Sure, babe. And you know, ‘Lena, whatever you need… you have only to ask.’ ‘Thanks, Del.’

22. Elena stood outside of the building where the viewing was held. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, looking to hold her insides in. Her face was averted to the dark, where people coming in did not immediately see the sticky, wet stains of tears past and present trickling their way down her cheeks. In the dim light, her face glowed with wet misery. Her breath hitched in a rasped throat and she felt a hand touch her shoulder from behind. She kept staring at the trees in the distance; they almost looked like ebony shadows, clawing out their silent agony into the night. The music from inside the funeral home was audible outside. Elena

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It wasn’t Sam anymore, but maybe the message would make its way to him anyway. Once done, she looked at Xavier’s father, then slowly stepped away, unwilling to stand so close to the body that was no longer his, yet unwilling to go until they closed the funeral home and forced the last person there to leave his body’s side. It wasn’t Jessica who greeted Elena on the Watsonia train station at the end of that night. Just as Elena had spent so little time with her family since returning to the country, so too had Jessica. Her parents requested Jessica’s presence immediately after the viewing, while Elena’s mother said that she must do whatever made her feel right, and so Elena stood alone under the harsh glare of the night lights at the Watsonia station. There was no hiding her tear-streaked face from those lights. They probed and beat into her, questioning and drawing her out against her will. The lights disallowed shadows’ reign; wherever Elena would avert her face, she would find only another light around that corner also. She could see the fog of her breath as it left her mouth and hung there for a while, before slowly dissipating into the air, like so many things that had used to leave a mark on this world. The skin of her arms was bumped up and tiny hairs all stood to attention as the train rushed by her on its entrance into the station. Before she had left the viewing,

109 someone had made sure Elena had a place to stay tonight. She didn’t know who. Mike stepped off the train and onto the station platform, briefly taking her into his arms and ushering her back onto the carriage, before the doors closed with them on the wrong side. ‘Hey.’ ‘… Hey.’ Elena rode the train, otherwise silent, till the station of their destination. Mike just held her hand in his silently, after offering her a place to stay with him, for as long as she needed it. Then he sat by her and watched with worry she did not see. They got off together, Mike still holding her hand and leading her towards the path that would take them the rest of the way to his parents’ house. It was closer to get to than his own place, and it was neutral ground for them. The couches were comfortable in the living room. The overhead lights were set to dim, but Elena could make out the whole room by their light if she cared to look. The soft plushness of the chaise beneath her was all that made its impression on her that night. The soft spoken tones in which Mike talked to her while he sat next to her sounded close enough to be comforting; not so close as to be crowding. It was the first time in days that she felt the foreign mask that her

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features had contorted into, released. She stared at the wall directly across the room and allowed Mike’s words to wash over her. At least he did not talk down to her. At least he did not make her speak. ‘I want to go to sleep.’ ‘Okay.’ ‘Where do I… I mean… where am I…?’ ‘Sleeping? In here or, if you want, you can take my bed.’ Nodding her head was a simple thing to do. She didn’t really want sleep. She didn’t know what she really wanted. A lifetime ago, Eileen had tried to set either Mike or Sam up with Elena. She hadn’t been privy to either of these ideas, of course. She hadn’t thought Mike had the least bit of interest in her when she met him. Mike had the thought of pursuing Elena that night, but Sam had already begun to rouse Elena’s affections towards him before that. On that night of meeting, Elena had thought Mike strange and aloof. On that night of meeting, Mike had thought Elena aloof and cold. On this night, just more than one year later, Elena and Mike were simply two people sitting next to each other on a couch.

23. The morning rose for another firmly sunny day; and Elena was still without a pair of sunglasses. After waking on this morning, she stared at herself in the mirror for the longest time. She realized she would never be beautiful in Sam’s eyes again. Sam would never look at her in just that way he had in Ireland again. Elena wished with all her heart that they could both be back in Ireland, and all the rest of this could be a dream. She remained in front of the mirror in Mike’s parents’ place. As she slowly lifted a brush to ease through her hair a second time, she tired of the task and put the brush back down again. Smoothing her hair with

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only her hands seemed to do the job just as well. As long as she wore black or dark colors today, that would be all that was needed. For Sam’s funeral, Elena dressed in black pants that she had admired in a shop in Ireland, and he had bought for her. They were unmarked, apart from at the bottoms, near the feet, that were worn away because Elena legs were several inches shorter than the ends of the pant legs. After a night of drinking with Mike months later, she would find dripped wax on those pants upon waking and mildly wonder how that had come to pass, being as how she owned no memory of playing with wax in the night before. Mike’s nails tapped against the door to the bathroom after she had been in there a while. When she didn’t answer, Mike walked on to the other toilet in the house, after a short hesitation where he had wondered whether he should follow her in, to make sure that she was okay. When Elena let herself out of the toilet only a moment later, it was into Mike’s mother that she walked. ‘Today is going to be a difficult day for you.’ ‘I know.’ ‘The most important thing is that you look after yourself.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Are you ready?’

113 Staring blankly at Mike’s mother for a second, she told herself she’d pulled a vague smile and walked away because she didn’t know the answer to that. Truth was, she didn’t much care to look so closely into herself to find the answer. Elena buckled herself into the front seat of the car. It was a Ute, so there was only the front seat to buckle into. Sam’s mother sat in front of the steering wheel. Mike was belted into the middle and Elena on the other side of him. The drive wasn’t a long one and Elena was familiar with the area. It was less than ten minutes through dried up leaves of trees that were overhanging from both sides of the road. Elena looked steadily out of her window, catching sight of a possum as it deftly scampered out of the way of the oncoming car and up onto a telephone pole, stopping briefly to scold them for their speed on its road, before clambering up the rest of the way. Once they hit the main road, they took a right, followed quickly by a left, past the local shopping complex and into the drive of the private school, Saint Mary’s, where the church on campus was conducting the ceremony. They were the first three there. Elena stood at a loss for what to do as people started arriving soon after. Every one of them knew her, and every one of them came up to her.

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Jessica stood next to Elena instead of next to Ashleigh, who had also come to pay respects. Jessica held onto Elena’s hand tightly, willing all the strength from her body into her friend’s body for this day. Elena didn’t feel the tension of it. She stared numbly through the people who were selling their condolences for nothing, and then walking past her, from funeral procession, to graveyard, to backyard wake held at Xavier’s house. An aunt of hers mentioned to Elena’s mother that Elena looked as though she’d been on some sort of drug to get through the day. When the supposition was passed on to Elena, she acceded it wouldn’t have been such a bad idea. Mike and Xavier were already at the house when Jessica, Elena and Ashleigh arrived. Ashleigh left before too long, with murmured apologies to Elena and Jessica, and something said about university study. Jessica never strayed far from Elena’s side. Mike kept looking over from whomever he was conversing with to make sure Elena was okay. Elena smiled at Jessica. The world had stopped threatening to fall on top of her since they arrived here. There was food, and more importantly, drink, to be consumed. With all of the people inside the house and backyard holding their own conversations, there was little more held over Elena’s head as the afternoon wore on.

115 ‘I am okay, you know.’ ‘You are?’ ‘Well, for now. Nothing further is making my stomach do flipflops.’ ‘That’s good.’ Elena felt her hand being rubbed consolingly by her friend, and took a deep breath. What was she going to do now, what was she going to do now? ‘You were right, you know.’ Elena looked at her best friend in surprise. If there was a background to this statement, she had obviously tuned out when Jessica had been saying it. Jessica smiled as though to say she knew that one sentence had been slightly disorienting. ‘About Ashleigh. I can’t remember if you ever said he was bad for me, but… We want such different things. I tried to convince myself for a while that what he wanted was what I wanted, too.’ Jessica sighed, laying her body against Elena’s reflexively, and drifting into the comfortable conversation that was naturally theirs. ‘I feel like I’m losing him. No. That’s not right. I feel like… I’ve already lost him. I don’t think he knows yet.’ Elena didn’t say anything, not sure that it was her place after all to

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give Jessica advice in this case. Jessica looked up at her, nudging her arm slightly and raising an eyebrow curiously. ‘What, you don’t have anything to say? No ‘I told you so’?’ ‘Like you said, can’t remember if I ever said he was bad for you.’ Elena tried a smile and it didn’t fail too much. That was progress. Jessica relaxed her body against Elena’s again, and Elena rested her head on the top of Jessica’s. They remained uninterrupted for a while, just like that. ‘I don’t know anymore. I don’t know about anything. I don’t know if I ever did.’

24. It had been days since Elena returned to the country; mere days. Yet there was no denying that the time was fast approaching to make decisions regarding what she was going to do next. A place was assured for her in New Zealand, if she wanted it. She also had acceptance into a tertiary course she had quite wanted to do up till now. ‘Whatever your decision, you know we’ll support it.’ ‘I know.’ The same conversation was had both between her and Jessica, and her and Mike. She clung to Jessica as she realized the decision she

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would make; holding onto her best friend, running her fingers through the long, black hair that thwarted her attempts by catching her fingers in knots. Jessica pulled away and grinned sheepishly about her hair, which was notorious for its unruly nature. ‘Sorry about that.’ ‘Sorry about moving away again, so soon after I just got back.’ ‘I knew you would.’ ‘You did?’ Elena stared at Jessica in shock. Her best friend just shrugged a lithe shoulder under a loose tank top that still didn’t manage to quite hide that full figure she had. Jessica looked at her with a sideways glance, as if she was surprised that Elena hadn’t come to that conclusion earlier as well. ‘Well, it was a given after Sam died.’ ‘Yeah, but…’ ‘You moved back here to make a life with him.’ Elena paused, then started to nod slowly. Her breath hitched, but she tried to ignore it, in favor of a normal conversation with her Jessica. ‘Then of course you’re going to decide to settle somewhere else instead, once he’s gone.’ Jessica lay an understanding hand on her knee, and Elena’s eyes followed the movement, as though she could gain some higher

119 knowledge from it. Seriously, her mind didn’t seem to be working the same as it used to, over this last rush of days. ‘That’s not a judgment, sweetie. Like I said before, whatever your decision…’ ‘You’ll support it.’ Jessica nodded and smiled, her hand tightening marginally on Elena’s leg, before moving away. ‘You’re my best friend. How could I do anything else?’ In Mike’s room, Elena sat seriously. The mood was very different here, not of two people who had known each other for so many years, but of two people who might not have been so close were it not for unpredicted circumstance. He acted in the capacity of her sounding board; someone who could make sure that she made the right decision for herself here. ‘I can’t stay here. I won’t be able to work through anything, with everything reminding me of what I lost.’ Mike nodded. He didn’t need to say anything. She had already come to the decision she would make without him having to add anything to sway her either way. Elena thought she couldn’t get through the full extent of her grief while staying in Melbourne, and as long as she believed that, it would be true to her. Elena gave a tremulous smile to his white-washed ceiling. They

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were lying top to toe on his double bed, contemplating all the mysteries of an inner city flat’s ceiling and everything else. So far away from everyone else in Sam’s old social circle, she felt that here was the only place in Melbourne that she could keep her mind even relatively clear. ‘So I’m going to go live in New Zealand then.’

25. The statistical casualty of an unforgiving road was gratefully stolen from her mind for the first time since it had happened, when Del and Stephanie met her in the arrivals lounge, hanging over the bar that Elena walked past as she entered into their country. Del drew her into a close hug, whispering comfortingly into her ear. ‘It’ll be okay.’ Elena smiled with sad green eyes and kissed her on the temple. Strange to think how short a time it had been since their separation. She stepped forward to finally meet Del’s other best friend, Stephanie. The New Zealand girl’s hair was just as brown as Elena’s, but was longer

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than even Del’s red tresses. She received her promised ‘glomp’, and if Elena tried really hard for it to be, it was better here. The bus ride from the airport was an interesting one. Christchurch was a city without a train line system. On the bus route back to Del’s home, they passed an eat-in Pizza Hut building, where Elena made them promise they must go for lunch some time. The time for trains, and their Melbourne stations, had passed. The sky, which had been a glorious glow of light through the overcast clouds that were a trademark of Christchurch, dimmed slowly on the route ride home. By the time they were passing the local shopping center and turning the last corner towards their bus stop, Elena could hardly make out the shapes that were moving past outside of the bus. All trees and houses looked the same; it wouldn’t be until the next day that Elena would see them in the clarity of day. They entered the house through the back door, stepping over recycling that hadn’t been recycled yet, on their way into the kitchen. They moved past the study-slash-dining room area and pushed open the sliding door that let them into the blessedly heated lounge room. Christchurch was not a warm city by night. Elena got to wear the jacket she had bought in Melbourne because she liked the look of it; a jacket she had never ended up wearing in the country she had bought it in. It was the kind of jacket that made midnight walks possible without

123 fear of loss of limbs to frostbite. It also doubled up as a dressing gown in the girls’ house, in any room that was not the heated lounge room. Elena put her bags down in Del’s room. They had shared a room before; this would be no different, until Elena settled affairs here for herself. Stephanie told her about friends they had who lived a mere half hour’s walk away, and were currently looking for a third housemate to move in straight away. Elena made sure to meet Nathaniel and Janet with a big smile and an eager friendliness. Nathaniel was a man who visually reminded Elena of her father, although his hair was brown and long instead of short and black. With a goatee, that likeness was lessened still further, and so in the beginning of their acquaintance, she lightly asked him not to shave it off. For the first month or so, he indulged her, then the novelty wore off and she stopped thinking to ask. Janet was not the real name of the girl Elena moved in with, but it was the only name she would answer to. With short, bright blue hair, Janet was possibly one of the most earnest people Elena had ever had occasion to meet. ‘So nice to meet you both.’ ‘I hear you’re looking to be our new flat mate.’ ‘Yup! If you’ll have me?’ Elena looked from Janet to Nathaniel and back again. Nathaniel

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was smiling, nodding a little, and Janet grinned as her look turned back to Elena again. ‘It’ll be nice to have another girl around the house.’ Elena squealed in her relief. ‘Erm… I mean, I… I’m happy… and, do you really mean it?’ She tried to half bury her face in the hot chocolate she had ordered. Stephanie and Del were ecstatic that she had found a place to live; Del not the least because she got to regain her whole bedroom again. ‘Your room is at the back of the house. It’s smallish, but it has a door with a key all of its own.’ ‘That’s okay, I don’t have much stuff to put in a large room anyway.’ Elena’s room, when she saw it, was a narrow rectangular shape. When she’d rearranged all the furniture that had been donated into there for her, the bed was pushed against the far wall from the door. She had a bedside table which was quickly filled with many books, music she was listening to, and writing utensils. Across the room, between gemstone book stops, Elena made a makeshift bookshelf on the floor, for the few books she had chosen to take with her across to New Zealand. Her clothes drawer was in the corner next to the door to the outside, and Elena smiled, sitting on top of it and writing to herself in a journal, ‘I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.’ Elena still spent most of her time at the girls’ house, even after she

125 scored the room of her own. In those first few weeks of forgetting, she would not wake till two p.m. on a weekday, and start job searching then. It would come to around six o’clock, at which time Elena would almost invariably receive an invitation for dinner at the girls’ house. Failing that invitation, she would arrive at eight o’clock, well after they were finished with dinner. Elena drank far too much in the weeks immediately following her arrival to Christchurch. She made sure to alternate drinking nights back and forth between the girls and her flat-mates, so that none of them would realize that she was drinking copious amounts every day. Each time she left her bedroom, she would plug her earphones into her ears and walk down the driveway in her just-below-knee-length jacket from Melbourne. At the end of her street, she would turn left, and then at the end of that street, at the roundabout, left again. These nights were usually filled with a fog so thick that Elena could barely see across the cow paddock just after the roundabout, but she would cross the road to be closer just to see if they were still there. She had cow fear, and a person could never be too careful about the cows that were watching them, especially at night. The fog was her favorite weather. She was delighted by it. She would sometimes take detours in the night, on the way to the girls’ house, go exploring the world of fields of fog and come out of it an

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hour later. Those were the times when even the puny heater seemed warm to Elena’s frosted self. But she was not the only person who indulged in these night time travels. There was a boy who lived across the street; one whom Stephanie had grown up with, as the other brother she hadn’t wanted. On nights when Stephanie remembered the inevitable university test, that she needed sleep for the next day, Elena would sit on Del’s bed instead, while they waited for Timoth’s arrival. Timoth was otherwise referred to as, ‘Tim-o-ty, Tim-o-ty!’ while dancing a jig around the dining room table, until he swiped you over the head for it.

26. The clock in Del’s room hung over the door, informing them that it was already after two a.m. Del was working on digital manipulations on her laptop, tapping nonchalantly to get the exact mix of images and type that she was after. The lamp behind Del was the only light source in the room, other than Del’s computer screen. It was on the bedside table next to where Elena reclined on Del’s bed, reading a book, about a about a girl mistaken for a nymph, swimming naked in Irish seawaters. She glanced up at the clock and rubbed her jaw idly. ‘Strange for Timoth to be this late.’ ‘He said he had something to do with the parents tonight.’

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Elena nodded, lowering her eyes back to her book. Del hadn’t looked up from her computer. The back door of the house opened smoothly. The girls didn’t hear him again as he made his way through the dark house, until Timoth entered Del’s room with a flourish, then turned around to close her door behind him. ‘I’m going to leave a table in the middle of the living room one of these times; see what you do then.’ Timoth glanced at Del, her threat sliding off his back easily. He gazed into the room lazily from where he was now crouched in front of her door. ‘I’ll see it. Because I’m stealthy.’ ‘Oh yeah, you’re just a regular stealth master.’ Elena put her down book and looked at him from the corner of her eye. He was clothed entirely in black, which was his norm, complete with gloves and black combat boots. His dark hair was at the length of his shoulder blades and was tied back in a hair tie that was, of course, black. He opened his mouth to speak to Del again. ‘I have a mission for tonight, if you accept.’ Now even Del’s disinterested eyes left her screen, and she looked at Timoth for the first time since he had entered her room. ‘A mission?’ ‘It will require going into the city.’

129 ‘Are you mad? There are no buses running at two a.m.’ ‘It’s not more than a forty minute walk. Aren’t you game? It’ll include Scrumpy.’ ‘Scrumpy’ was an alcoholic cider; about the cheapest form of alcohol available for students in Christchurch. It was packaged like a 1.25 liter bottle of Passiona or Mountain Dew. Del had told Elena that she had to try some, ever since she’d arrived. It was for that reason Elena gave Del a very significant look at Timoth’s words. ‘Oh, all right then. Just let me get my coat.’ Elena grinned proudly at Timoth. She place held her book and put it on the bedside table, on top of the base of the lamp. Del pushed her laptop lid shut and walked out of the room, in high-heeled boots she hadn’t taken off from the last time they’d been outside. Timoth and Elena followed behind her. ‘Wonderful!’

27. Elena slept over in Del’s bed, on nights when it became seven a.m. by the time any of the three of them became tired. She often couldn’t be bothered walking the half hour back to her house, after Timoth set off on the 500 meter walk to his bed. ‘You like him, don’t you?’ Del was dressed in a loose t-shirt with the hostel logo from Ireland stamped on the back. They both had one, but Del wore hers to bed. Elena unbuttoned her bra from behind and dumped it on top of the jeans she had left next to Del’s bed, on top of her bag. She half turned to face Del, with a skeptical look on her face.

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131 ‘Like him? Nah. Lust… maybe. He intrigues me.’ ‘In the down and naughty way?’ Her friend looked interested at the thought of it. Elena crawled onto the other side of Del’s bed, pulling back the sheets so she could fit in beside Del. Del was already reaching one hand out of her side of the bed to turn the lamp off. Elena pulled blue sheets up to her chest resolutely, answering Del’s question. ‘Less ‘the naughty’, more the ‘let me follow you into that forgetful world of night you seem to be so much a part of.’ I could use some of that forgetting right about now.’ ‘Yeah. How are you doing anyway? Really. I mean, you seem to be getting along better here than when I talked to you on the phone.’ ‘It’s… better. Easier, when I’m not faced with everything that reminds me of…’ ‘Yeah.’ Del shuffled in her bed. It was a double, so there was instantly more room than times Elena had slept over in Jessica’s bed. There was definitely more room here than in her own single bed at Nathaniel’s house. Del and Elena shared silence for a few moments. The first lights of morning were beginning to creep around the edges of Del’s curtains. It wasn’t thick material hanging from the rail. The light blue of it helped to let in the light, not keep it out. Elena looked at them in

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‘Oh no, you’re not a creature of the night at all!’ Elena hadn’t realized Del had been watching her, grinning and proving there had become enough external light to negate the need for the lamp they had turned off, only moments before. ‘What? I can’t sleep. You want Timoth. Why don’t you go after him?’ ‘You think he’d be interested?’ ‘Only one way to find out, sweetheart.’ Elena pondered that, finding it easier to ignore the light when she had something else to focus her attention on.

28. Getting to the city wasn’t the problem; it was getting back. Immediately rounding the corner after buying the piss, Del had opened the bottle before passing it across to Elena, so she could get her first taste of Scrumpy. It was an experience to be savored by all. Like taking the Scrumpy cherry. They weren’t going to get as drunk walking back to Del’s as they would have from sitting in her living room, but at least they had the alcohol now in the first place. Elena passed the bottle to Timoth when she was finished with it. ‘I’m not sure if I like it or dislike it.’ ‘Yup. That’s the way it hits everyone.’

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Del moved closer to Elena and slung an arm around her shoulders. ‘It’s like you’re one of us now. How do you feel?’ ‘Fizzy.’ It was an adequate reply. Not only was it packaged like soft drink, but it had the texture, if not the taste, of fizzy drinks. This managed to distract Elena for a while, as she watched them follow the path the river took through Christchurch, until Timoth suggested a short cut that deviated from the river and towards blocks of houses, in a suburb in Christchurch Elena wasn’t yet familiar with. That was when she felt the first pangs of trouble starting. ‘Okay, maybe that drinking on the way home wasn’t the best idea.’ ‘Why not?’ ‘You know how alcohol makes you need to pee?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘And you know how Del and I were drinking tea for, like, four hours before you arrived?’ ‘Sure.’ ‘So now, I need to pee.’ ‘Well… squat.’ ‘Are you kidding? I’m not squatting. Can we go home, please?’ Del sniggered behind Timoth and Elena. Elena turned her head to glare. The road they were taking had a cemetery on the left hand side.

135 ‘Now you’ve got me thinking; I need to pee.’ Del climbed over the fence to the cemetery and disappeared inside. Elena hung out the front a little. She didn’t particularly want to go in there. Timoth gave her a look, then shrugged, following behind Del. Outside the cemetery, Elena concentrated on the wrought iron fence. It looked so out of place in the middle of this typical suburban spread. Normal house, normal house, dark spooky cemetery in the early hours of the morning, normal house. Oh look, a black cat scampering over the fence and into the yard of another of the normal houses. By contrast, the fence of the cemetery stretched up high in some places, like the gate, that was padlocked shut. Looking beyond them, Elena swallowed. The trees inside seemed to be hiding a secret; a secret the leaves were inviting her to become a part of. All she had to do was climb over the gate, like Del and Timoth had done. Elena sighed tersely; her bladder became a heavy lump weighing on her pelvis. She saw Del and Timoth before she heard them; two silhouetted figured pressed tight against each other, framed by dark trees and gravestones. ‘You’re not allowed to like me. Besides, I like someone else. Just because I kiss you, don’t mean I like you. It means I’m drunk.’ Elena blinked at words that had not been meant for her ears; words she’d heard anyway. Biting her lip, she stepped back as Del walked testily out vaulted the fence, almost on top of Elena. She stopped and

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stared guiltily at Elena, as Timoth came out more slowly. Elena cleared her throat. ‘Can we go home now?’ Del looked immediately happy enough to comply with Elena’s wishes. She walked to one side of Elena, and Timoth took the other. They started off home again, but not soon enough for Elena’s comfort. She stopped, she squinted; she held her thighs tight against each other, in a pressure-heightened, thankless agony. Del and Timoth kept on turning around to watch Elena in this slow process. ‘Why don’t you just pee in a bush?’ ‘I can’t. It just won’t happen.’ ‘Not can’t; won’t.’ ‘Looks like it would happen quickly enough to me.’ Elena glared at both of them as she stiffly straightened, taking a couple of quick steps, before again the pain of her bladder stopped her another time. Timoth rolled his eyes. Del shushed him and came to her side. ‘Do you want support in getting there?’ ‘How far?’ ‘I dunno… around three blocks?’ Del looked to Timoth to verify this. The nod of his head was a minuscule motion. Del looked back at Elena comfortingly.

137 ‘See? We’ll be there in no time.’ ‘Uhh… okay.’ Elena grasped onto Del’s arm and they hurried back to her house. Quietly, so as not to wake a house filled with sleeping people, Elena rushed to the toilet, barely assuring herself there was toilet paper first, before peeing out the Nile. She grinned at the others before picking up her discman and bag and quietly excusing herself to walk back—much more comfortably—home.

29. Elena, Timoth, Del and Stephanie arrived en masse at the house party. Fire twirlers were already doing their stuff in the backyard. Immediately, the foursome was offered fluorescent blue drinks in clear, plastic cups. Stephanie tipped some of hers out into a pot plant when no one was watching. Someone had to be the designated watching-outfor-everybody’s-angst person. Del had already been drawn away by her ‘like-someone-else’ boy. The party was in the backyard, more than it was in the house. One of the rooms had been cleared of furniture to make space for a dance area, and the French windows opened wide so people could

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139 walk straight in to from the backyard as soon as they heard a song they liked. So too was the kitchen open for everyone’s use; there was already alcohol spilled along benches, though the night was still early. Elena sat on one of the ragged couches that had been thrown out into the backyard. Another round of alcohol was being passed around. Elena held up her cup, to indicate that she was in need of a refill. ‘You know, you are really beautiful, you know that?’ ‘You know, you really need to work on your pick-up lines, you know that?’ Elena raised her eyebrows at the wannabe flirt who, after failing miserably with her, went onto the next unsuspecting girl behind Elena and Stephanie. ‘You know, you are really beautiful, you know that?’ Stephanie joined Elena in a well felt sigh. ‘He’s definitely got balls.’ ‘Yeah, well I’d say that’s all he’s got. And probably a small cock in between.’ Stephanie spluttered in an attempt to keep her laughter stifled. Elena patted her on the back, then stood up, reaching her hand out to help Stephanie out of the couch that seemed to be trying to eat her. ‘Come on, let’s dance.’ A song was playing, but Elena didn’t really listen to it. She

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was hearing a different beat in her head, one that echoed with the sensation of too much alcohol drunk in too little a time, mixed with the intoxication of dancing front to front with Stephanie. In front of others on the dance floor, Elena’s hand would graze a hip, or Stephanie’s lips would graze Elena’s throat in play. Their arms wrapped around each other, lingering low on the hips. Their breasts were drawn into closer contact against each other, shifting sensuously through the fabric of the clothes they had worn specifically for the night. Stephanie smiled up at Elena. Both their knees bent in turn, as they shifted their bodies to the slow beat of the music. Stephanie hummed the tune of it under her breath, which drew Elena’s eyes to Stephanie’s throat, and she nipped forward to briefly taste the skin there. Stephanie’s head lolled to the side, giving Elena more access. The very little space between their bodies was causing boys, and some girls around them, to whistle, and Elena dared a hand to move lower on Stephanie’s body, till it gently caressed the edge of the other brunette’s right butt cheek. Elena’s eyes trailed around the room in distant interest, mainly trying to see where those wolf whistles were coming from. What she caught sight of was Timoth standing, watching from the sidelines, but not partaking. His eyes had taken in how she and Stephanie were dancing together. Elena and Stephanie turned a half circle in their

141 dance, and Elena extended her arm invitingly to Timoth. Del’s attention was already fully taken over by a boy. He had taken up the position of dancing behind her. Both his arms wrapped around her possessively and his eyes stared down her body—breasts, shoulders, bare midriff and fishnet-stockinged legs— from over her shoulder. Del had an expression of bliss on her face as she closed her eyes and gave herself to the wandering hands of her boy as they edged up slightly under the clothing covering her top, and touched bare skin. The boy was pressed up flush against her, with plenty of room still behind him, and the way they were making love on the dance floor made Elena, with Stephanie, feel positively chaste. Timoth advanced towards Elena and Stephanie, not even looking at Del and her boy as she passed them. Stephanie pointed them out happily to Elena, saying in her ear that this was the boy Del had been trying to get the interest of, ever since she had moved to Christchurch. Elena was amused, remembering Del’s former cynicism when they had been together in Ireland. It seemed more than what was on the surface had changed since Ireland. Arriving behind Elena, Timoth reached out to grasp Elena’s hips and draw her back to him, starting to grind his body against Elena, and she pulled an expression of mirth at Stephanie. Rising her eyebrows in response to the challenge, Stephanie stepped closer to Elena again, and

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the three of them started dancing against each other. The music changed to something with a harsher beat, and at the start, Elena wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. Timoth was the one who solved that problem, with a direct hold on her hip with one hand, followed by his other hand gripping her just at the side of her breast. His third movement was a pelvis thrust against her butt, pulling her towards him with his other holds on her, and the beat of the music working to his advantage. Stephanie had a hold on both of Elena’s hands, trying to draw a willing Elena closer towards her, but Timoth’s hold was too firm. She writhed against the feel of him at the back of her, attempting to draw Stephanie towards her if she couldn’t be drawn closer to Stephanie. Stephanie stepped forward, kissing Elena on the lips. Then she let go of one of Elena’s hands and waved at Elena, before relinquishing her other hand, quietly reminding Elena that she had known Timoth far too long to find the idea of the three of them wrapped in each others’ limbs sexy, and stepping off the dance floor, leaving Elena and Timoth alone. His hold on Elena didn’t loosen. Her head leaned back against him, gasping at the painful pull he inflicted upon her body in his firm grasping to get her closer against him. They danced against each other shamelessly, perspiring after several sets, not from the mindless jumping around that most others on the floor indulged in, but from the sexual

143 tension between the two of them. In the moments that she had his attention, that was the only thing that mattered. Elena understood that she was using him shamelessly; a crutch to help her deal with life, and forget about Sam.

30. It was much later. Time, and drinks, had passed by her, but she couldn’t remember how much, how many. Most of the free alcohol was gone now, much of it drunk by Elena and Timoth, and now Elena needed to pee. Thankful for the indoor toilet facilities that she only had to wait for one person to finish with, before letting herself in after them, Elena moved back outside, reuniting with Stephanie and Del, who were the latest casualties of the people-eating couch. Timoth met her out there and draped his arm around Elena, leaning on her casually. ‘There anymore alcohol?’ ‘Not out here.’

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then held it out for Elena to do the same. Gingerly, she leaned forward onto tip toes, completely unaware that where they were standing in the kitchen was completely visible from where Del and the other two were sitting. ‘We could try this, I suppose.’ ‘I dunno, it smells kinda…’ ‘Wrong, yeah, I know, but what are our other options?’ ‘Well, when put so attractively…’ Elena looked around for shot glasses that had been left on the kitchen bench. Picking up two of them, she rinsed them out in the sink and set them together, side by side in front of the as yet unidentified alcohol bottle. Then she poured. ‘Bottoms up.’ ‘Ugh. Vodka.’ ‘You did say…’ ‘I know what I said.’ Timoth put the shot glass down hard on the bench, grimacing in his disgust. Glancing out the window to the couch in the backyard, he gritted his teeth and looked at Elena again. ‘Another round.’ ‘Yeah.’ They had to retire to the inside couch just off to the side from the

147 dance floor when they found out they couldn’t really stand any longer. ‘Whoa, is that the floor moving?’ Elena paused on their way from the kitchen to study it. Timoth had her hand in his and so her pausing meant that he was forced to stop as well. He looked at her, not really taking in what she had said, then tugged on her hand so that she had to start towards the couch with him again. ‘What’s up?’ She asked the words innocently enough, turning her face up to Timoth’s, and then he was leaning in to capture her lips with his, and Elena didn’t get to see that Del was on the dance floor again, this time dancing with both Stephanie and Robin. She would have smiled to see they were having such a good time. Timoth claimed her attention and his tongue claimed her mouth. Elena was breathing heavily from the force of his kiss; latching her hand around to the back of his head, she dragged him back to her, when he sat back for air. He smiled at her enthusiasm, then grasped her to him again. Elena had no idea how long this continued, but she was sitting up in Timoth’s lap, able to feel the shape of his erection through his pants—black, of course—against her leg, when Del found them. She stood over them both to get their attention. ‘Sorry to interrupt your make-out session, but we’re going to leave

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now. You are still coming with us, right?’ Del kicked Timoth in the shin, testing for reactions. Timoth’s head came up from nibbling on Elena’s neck regretfully. He pulled himself back marginally from Elena, glaring at Del, before deliberately softening his expression. ‘Right, yeah, leaving. Whenever you’re ready.’ ‘Well, that is now. So how about I get Stephanie and we go?’ ‘Sure, if that’s what you think is best.’ Del looked at Timoth, knowing from the way he slurred his words that he had definitely had too much to drink. It was undecided to her more than half drunk mind right now as to whether the way he was hanging off Elena was a good thing or not. Disconcerted for the moment, and saving those thoughts for a soberer mind, she returned outside, to pick Stephanie up. Timoth returned to kissing Elena. She didn’t say no. In fact, she didn’t say anything. She wound her arms around her neck and pulled him closer, biting on his lip playfully and squirming her butt from side to side, just enough to make him moan when she stimulated his cock. They didn’t really notice when Del came back. Timoth’s hands were trailing down Elena’s sides by then, his thumbs edging towards her breasts on the way down. Neither Elena or Timoth noticed the worried look that went from

149 Del to Stephanie. Elena’s eyes closed as Timoth bit the skin of her neck, and she moaned quietly in pleasure. They didn’t notice when Del threw her arms up, declaring that this was not her problem to deal with, and she wanted to go home now. Stephanie followed her and Timoth brought his lips back to Elena’s again. They did notice, however, when a person who lived at the house said the party was winding up. They didn’t want Elena and Timoth sleeping on that couch together if they were staying the night. Something about not wanting their living room couch soiled. Elena stood up, smoothing her clothes, which had become rumpled from extended making out with all grace, if one could ignore the swaying she was doing on her feet, as she wiped her lips selfconsciously. The two of them were pointed towards the lounge, where couches were being put back where the dance floor had been, and Elena immediately went for the one that wasn’t the people-eating couch. Instead of taking the other couch, Timoth doubled over, silently signaling a disturbing warning. They were on equal ground now, Elena thought, moments later. He had borne witness to her on the brink of tears with the pressing need to urinate; she kept his hair from his mouth as he vomited back the whole evening’s drinking, in the house’s kitchen sink.

31. Elena mused that had they not been forced to separate—or had he not made a desperate lunge for the kitchen sink at the end of the night—she might have very well ended up sleeping with Timoth. The fact that they had not owed little to their own self-restraint. Elena wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She watched Timoth on the couch opposite to hers, his face mashed into the arm of the couch, curled into a fetal position that probably had less do to with keeping in the warmth and more to do with the couch being a foot shorter than he was. He wasn’t ugly to look at. He wouldn’t clash with her, clothing-wise, considering all the black

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151 he owned. One month after Sam died, there was another house party held. Gluttons for punishment, Elena, Del, Timoth and Stephanie attended, with alcohol and ID in tow. The house had had trouble with under age arrivals in the past, and now, the people who lived there would not allow entrance without at least a cursory look at ID. ‘There’ was a house across the road from a Catholic high school, already milling with blackclad students. The four walked in a line past the mailbox; the mailbox where Elena met with Timoth later in the night. They walked up the driveway, where people already early in their drinks caught sight of them, and waved for them to involve themselves in the broiling fun. There was drinking and dancing, locking themselves in bedrooms and kissing in hallways, more dancing and then waiting half an hour in line for the one toilet in the house, that was taken up by the women’s constant needs to preen themselves. Del pulled out her first can of drink, already marring the black eye liner masquerading as lipstick, which Del and Elena had giggled about in the bathroom. They had both thought it such a good idea at the time. Within half an hour, the two of them were women in the bathroom preening themselves, trying to undo the damage to the lower halves of their faces now covered in black make-up shadows. Robin aided in this

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black make-up mess, locating them out front, kissing Del in greeting and bringing his own drink to his lips. Elena was impatient for a dance, and dragged Stephanie in through the front door and towards the hallway. She looked back coyly to Timoth. He wasn’t left alone with Del and Robin for long, though. He glared daggers at Robin for a moment, before following Elena and Stephanie inside and already starting his own drinking. ‘You seem like a breath of fresh air tonight.’ ‘What can I say? The party mood hasn’t struck me yet.’ ‘Yeah. I’m getting that.’ Elena gazed at Timoth playfully for a moment. Stephanie became momentarily distracted, by someone she hadn’t expected to see at this party, and Elena had Timoth to herself again.

32. She first entered his bedroom to hung fairy lights and ‘Nothing Else Matters’. Amongst dew drops of glittering light, she was turned around by him. He pushed her against the wardrobe door, next to calendars and posters of half naked girls. She felt the cold of the white painted door as he pushed up her top and began to suckle her breast. He drew his head back to take a breath and she pushed her breasts against his chest, and felt it when he pushed his pelvis against hers in response. She brushed her hair out of the way of her face, and then realized that she had to do the same with his hair a moment later. That distracted her marginally until he pulled her away from the wardrobe

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door and into the center of the room, where they were more heavily illuminated by the ghastly glow of the music-stimulated background on the computer monitor. This happened after she tripped on the back of the house steps, but before they reached his bed. In the moment, the bed was like a shadow block against the side of the room, to which she hadn’t yet had cause to pay that much attention. She’d barely had time to kick off her shoes and her socks still remained, as he slid his fingers up her thighs, digging into the skin ever so slightly, and receiving a positive reaction from it. Her skirt was ridden up and she felt like she had to distract him, if she didn’t want to be the only one standing in a room naked, with the other person still fully clothed. His shirt was a button–up, and it didn’t take her long to go down the line of them with light fingers and undo one of them at a time. Only when the shirt was hanging together by one button did he stop looking down at her, through darkly slitted eyes, and take both of her hands in his, moving her towards the bed. She was directed there with slow insistence and placed on her back, waiting for him to straddle atop her. Don’t fight this, don’t stop it, began the mantra in her mind. Don’t let the only person you’ve ever had sex with be a dead man. The heat of her kisses was incensed and she reached out to undo the bottom button

155 of his shirt. His shoulders worked to help her shuck away the shirt and throw it to some corner of the room. Once his arms were free of clothing, he reached forward and helped her with her top. It received much the same treatment as his did. She heard the fabric slide quickly down the wall, and then there was a muffled ‘plomp’ as it landed, then silence, other than the noises they were making themselves. He grew exasperated by the nuisance of her bra against his lips, when he leaned to take her nipples in his mouth. She couldn’t find the bra later on when she wanted to leave on the first bus of the morning, so she stayed in his bed and next to him, until he woke up, too, and there was more than enough light even through the blinds, to see clearly. He then pressed against her, with fingers wiggling busily behind her back. They were chest to chest, and he trailed kisses along her jaw, biting his way down her neck and collarbone. Her fingers sank lower, to the top button of his pants now and her fingers grazed over their first sense of his pubic hair. She looked up his body—bared chest, navel, collarbone—up to his eyes, and in the back of her throat was the beginnings of the words ‘I love you’. ‘I love you more.’ ‘I loved you first.’ ‘I loved you last.’

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Elena jolted back to earth. She couldn’t say that here, not to him. ‘Stop.’ ‘What?’ ‘Stop! I can’t do this.’ ‘… You’re kidding.’ ‘Yeah… no.’ ‘You really aren’t going to do this.’ ‘No.’ ‘Right.’ He rolled off her, lying on his back holding his arm over his forehead. Elena was left, only half undressed and trembling, struggling to hold all of her insides together.

33. Robin located them out front, kissing Del in greeting and bringing his own drink to his lips. Stephanie became momentarily distracted, by someone she hadn’t expected to see at this party, and Elena had Timoth to herself again, but not for long. Del and Stephanie found Elena and Timoth in the dance room later. They arrived with drinks in hand and gravitated towards Elena. The three girls alternated which of them was between the other two, amongst dozen of unrelated, dancing people, happily excluding Timoth. Elena spent a fair amount of time between Del and Stephanie, trailing her hands up and down the hips and waists of the other girls and

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158 feeling their hands on her.

Over Del’s shoulder, she caught eye contact with Timoth and poked her tongue out at him playfully, before shimmying down between Del and Stephanie, then writhing her way up to full height again. Timoth was gone the next time she looked. When Elena eventually went out to search for him, she found he was no longer in the house. Scouting outside, she walked into people lingering, who tried to detain her, but with smiles and nods, Elena moved past them, towards the shadowy figure she could vaguely make out at the end of the driveway, near the mailbox. ‘Kinda funny place to choose to hang out at a party.’ ‘Smart if it’s the people inside you’re wanting to avoid.’ ‘So then, why come to the party?’ Elena leaned against the fence, glancing up at Timoth, feeling the usual anticipation rising in her whenever she had prolonged conversation with him. His head turned and he looked at her cynically. ‘Well, I could hardly leave you little damsels to go off on your own now, could I?’ ‘We’re not little damsels. And anyway, Robin could have taken care of us.’ ‘Indeed.’ The single word was terse, and Elena had a feeling that if she left

159 it, Timoth would be content to say nothing more until she gave up and went back to the party. She wasn’t ready to do that yet. ‘Hey, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to rile you.’ ‘Yeah, you did.’ ‘Well, okay, but I didn’t think it would work so well. Sorry.’ ‘It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.’ ‘Wanna talk about it?’ ‘No. Nothing to talk about. Better to just forget.’ The corners of Elena’s lips picked up at that. She couldn’t have put her state of mind for the past several weeks in a better way. The others were wrong. She and Timoth really did have something in common after all. Comfortable in that knowledge, Elena felt content to stand against the fence, not looking but just aware of him perched near the mailbox, sharing in that companionable silence, for as long as it lasted. ‘What are you doing out here anyway? Aren’t you busy enjoying the party?’ ‘Oh yeah, this party’s a blast. Best one yet.’ ‘So why are you out here?’ Elena sighed. She thought she could answer the question with just silence, then when Timoth shifted, she stepped forward too. He was standing right in front of her and Elena smiled conspiratorially up at him. She wiped all emotions carefully clear from her eyes; she didn’t

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want to feel emotions. With him, she just wanted to feel. She stepped towards him. Surely they had both had enough to drink tonight that they could forget all other appearances, and just forget in each other. Surely not; his hands lifted against her shoulders, as more gently than he had ever held her before, he moved her to a safe distance from himself. Elena’s brow furrowed. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to play out. ‘Sorry. I’m just not in the mood.’ ‘Hey, sure, that’s fine. I was just… that’s fine.’ He wanted his alone time. She could give him that at least. Turning on her heel, she moved from the end of the driveway back to the house, stopping this time when the people, with the slurred words of their foolish conversations in front of the door, stood in her way. Entering the house again, Elena lifted her hands to the music that was playing, swaying her hips, deliberately mindful of enjoying herself, having found another thing to forget. It was still early. Easy enough to pick up someone else, someone more interesting, someone who wanted her back. She caught the eye of several boys in the room, and of some women, but her mood wasn’t right for it, and neither Stephanie nor Del were anywhere to be seen. For momentary solace, Elena went to find Del, and find her she did, after some time, pressed against the wall, kissing and being kissed

161 by Timoth. With shock-widened eyes, Elena spun around desperately, to find Stephanie. Her mind was awhirl with shock and hurt and betrayal. Del was one of the ones she had counted on to keep her stable. Del didn’t even want Timoth; what the hell did she think she was doing, taking him away from her? Robin seemed to peel his body away from the wall at exactly the right moment. He appeared suddenly in Elena’s way, and he granted her the perfect opportunity to stop her mind from racing away without her. He wasn’t unlike Timoth in looks or temperament, Elena thought as she looked over him, although his hair was longer than Timoth’s, and untied. The lines of his nose and lips were thinner, perfect for the look of disgust gave when someone was being an idiot. He would do. Elena grabbed hold of him and kissed him deeply. He didn’t object. ‘You’re hot.’ ‘Thank you.’ In the middle of the hall, with people flocking past and getting stuck and moving on, Robin and Elena began their make-out session. Only when Elena drew attention to the traffic did he raise his head, allowing that she had a good point, before ushering her into one of the bedrooms. Another couple had already claimed the room. Elena stared around in dismay. She knew what was expected, and a panicked thought ran

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through her head, asking her what the hell did she think she was doing now? Robin was standing in front of the closed door. She took a deep breath in, deflating instantly when she noticed his eyes drift to her chest. ‘What are you doing? You’re involved with Del.’ ‘No, I’m not. We’re on a break. Come with me.’ ‘What?’ ‘Come with me. You don’t have somewhere else to crash after this, do you?’ ‘No… well, I could always crash here.’ ‘On a couch? Come home with me.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Because you’re hot.’ ‘But why me?’ Robin stayed silent in front of Elena. He probably believed he’d already answered her second question with his first answer. When she too fell silent, he reached forward to her again, taking her in another kiss, which Elena returned. It was easier than thinking of an answer to his invitation. The bedroom door was still closed. Sounds of the party were making their way through that door. Elena remained ever conscious of the other couple making out in the room as Robin’s hands

163 roamed up and down above her clothes, over her breasts, her hips, her thighs. She moaned, then dragged Robin closer to stifle the treacherous sound. Warm breath suffused her ear and she shivered. His voice whispered over her lips and neck. ‘You’re hot.’ Elena lost her concept of time, focused wholly on the way his hair draped around them, enclosing them both in their own private world of his lips upon hers and his eyes gazing down at her, though hazy from drinking, and their own desires which, for this short time only, they could not be held accountable for. At some point thereafter, Robin lifted his body off hers and began to lead her out of the room. The door was open, and Elena could have slipped out and gone to find Stephanie and Del, if they were still there. Her hand was linked with his; her fingers intertwined between his fingers. He was leading her out of the house, but she wasn’t putting up a fight. Timoth no longer lurked by the mailbox; nor were him and Del kissing as Elena and Robin exited the house. They didn’t see Timoth, Del or Stephanie at all as they left. Elena decided they must have gone home when they couldn’t find her. Elena wondered how she was going to explain what she was doing now when she returned to the girls’ house tomorrow, to pick up the stuff she had left there earlier.

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She was mostly silent, walking to Robin’s house. Occasionally, a monosyllabic reply was required of her, whenever he asked a direct question. But they were not friends. They couldn’t talk closely. Robin kept looking at her with concern and Elena kept avoiding his looks. He had only words to reach her with. ‘You okay?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘You sure?’ ‘Yeah, why?’ ‘You looked worried.’ Elena blinked, looking into his eyes in amazement. Only when she garnered the seriousness of his gaze was she forced to look away, in order to stem the near hysterical laughter that bubbled up to the back of her throat, threatening to have its disastrous way with her vocal cords. She had the chilling suspicion that if she started to laugh now, she wouldn’t stop. Mental images of herself stock still but laughing in his face, while he stood there, frozen with disgust at the onslaught, flashed through her head. In that moment, she forced cold control over herself and her vocal chords, turning hysteria into hard edged cynicism. ‘No? Really? I can’t even imagine why! It starts something like this: Oh hey, best friend of mine, remember that guy you’ve been on and off again with for almost a year now…?’

165 Elena glared at him, affronted by the very maleness of him. Although they were walking together, Elena let go of his hand and made her steps a little quicker. It made no difference. Robin kept pace with her. Even had he not, she didn’t know this area. She was relying on him to show her the way. It was further moments before either one of them dared another word, after Elena’s outburst. ‘I’ve told her I can’t deal with her problems as well as my own.’ ‘Everyone has problems.’ ‘That’s what I’ve said.’ ‘And she understands that. But there’s a difference between understanding and finding out her best friend has had sex with you.’ ‘Well then, how do you think she’ll react? You know her better than I do.’ She scoffed, then shook her head. She was way too drunk for this conversation. And they had to be approaching his house by now. That, faster than anything, was guaranteed to cull his words. ‘She’s gonna hate me. Possibly you, but less. Why the hell did you have to pick me out, of all people?’ Robin stopped walking. They were in front of a driveway. As Elena realized, she stopped talking, too. She took a deep breath as he stepped over the one step’s distance between them. He kissed her once. Elena felt her eyes close off. She was ready for this. ‘Stop talking now.’

34. ‘I love you.’ ‘I love you more.’ ‘I loved you first.’ ‘I loved you last.’ Elena jolted back to earth. She couldn’t say that here, not to him. God! Robin was Del’s boy-thing. What the hell was she doing in his room, in bed with him? Robin rolled off her, lying on his back holding his arm over his forehead. Elena was left, only half undressed and trembling, struggling to hold all of her insides together. She blinked her eyes quickly to

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167 separate larger droplets of tears into a film of water, fit to moisturize the whole of her eye, rather than forming a telltale drip from the bottom of her lashes. She was aware of Robin still breathing heavily beside her. ‘So. What now?’ ‘I guess I’ll just stay here. Until the first bus, or something.’ When he lay his arm out across the pillows later, she carefully lay her head on his chest and listened for the slow, regular beating of his heartbeat that she found beneath her ear. She came to half wakefulness at odd stages through the night. At one point, Robin had been flush up against the other side of the bed, careful not to touch any part of her, and Elena had felt used and discarded. She’d carefully felt around the bed for the bra, trying hard not to wake him or move the bed too much, after already having located the rest of her clothing. She quietly started to panic when there was no bra in sight or in touching distance, then she’d forced herself to calm down. Elena wasn’t going to leave this bedroom with her bra left behind, so logically, the only thing left to do was lie back down beside him, not touching him either, and wait until the morning brought with it enough natural light for her to find her under garment in. The next time Elena woke up, it was daylight, though not far into it, and one of Robin’s arms was around her, while his unconscious body had leaned in towards her, resting his chin above her head. A strange

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feeling, almost like contentment—more like avoidance—rolled through the pit of her stomach and Elena considered and cast off the idea of getting out from under him and looking for her bra again. A third time, Elena went to sleep, and only when Robin’s alarm signaling eleven a.m. started beeping, did she wake up one more time. Elena found her bra at the end of the bed, nowhere near the top that Robin had thrown in the opposite direction. She took a deep breath as she slowly got dressed, more hyper aware of her freezing in Robin’s bed the night before than of his eyes on her in her half clad state in the light shining through the pale, cream blinds in the early afternoon sun. Lucky guy, to have two women bail out on him in the one night. He shouldn’t have gone for the ‘sure-bet best friend’ after all. He wasn’t going to move from his bed. She’d seen Robin standing on the corner at the end of his block with his arms around Del, waiting for her to be picked up from his house before. She’d been in the car doing the picking up. But he wasn’t going to do that for her. Small wonder, really. ‘Do you love her?’ Elena’s quiet question resonated through the silence of the room, charging it with an energy that had been lazy and without purpose only moments before. Even Elena hadn’t expected the charge that went through Robin at her words. By the time she realized he hadn’t yet

169 spoken, a full moment had passed. ‘What?’ ‘Do you love her?’ ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ ‘Oh, come on. When you see her as she smiles because of something you particularly have said or done. When she pays notice to you above everyone else in the room. When it is just you and her, and nothing outside matters. If you could never see anything like that with her again, never share anything with her again, doesn’t that make you hurt?’ ‘It’s never just me and her. It’s always me watching her kiss every other guy, and girl, at every party.’ Not totally unlike Elena since she had arrived in New Zealand. She began to think of all the people who were not Sam, all whirling around her. Elena didn’t know why she’d decided to embark on this conversation in the first place. Things had been better when it had merely been about the flesh. What did she care about love anyway? Her shoes were the last thing she pulled on, lacing them up carefully through the eyes that went halfway up her calves. Her socks were already pulled up high to prevent chafing. She didn’t look at him and he didn’t look at her, not until after she left, through the same back steps she had tripped over the night before.

35. Harsh light of day glared into the irises of her eyes, forcing her into the true reality of what had happened the night before and of whose front driveway she walked down now, partially dressed, still, in the clothes Del had lent her the night before. Painfully, she stepped onto the bus between his house and Delilah’s, with increasingly wooden limbs. She couldn’t imagine how she was going to articulate what she had to say to her, much less how Del would actually act. Betrayal, which was all she had achieved the night before. They may not have finished the act, but the intent had been the same. It was with a head hanging low that Elena stepped off the bus at

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171 the right stop and walked the necessary two houses over, to the front of where Del and Stephanie lived. By now, her feet were all but screaming at her to turn themselves around, have a nice warm shower at home and ponder the intelligence of this quest from there. When she finally faced Del front on, she debated the logistics of just picking up her stuff and not saying anything else at all. The backdoor entrance to the house was locked. Del wasn’t home. Stephanie was at work. Elena knocked again senselessly, unable to believe that she would be thwarted from her intent at this last, then she stood back, turned around and sat down on the back door step. She couldn’t leave. She didn’t have to. The door opened so suddenly behind her that Elena almost pitched backwards and Del almost stepped on top of her, before she bent down at the knee to make sure that her friend was all right. ‘How long have you been here? I didn’t hear you.’ ‘Oh, not that long. I just figured you were down the street getting milk or something.’ Del’s eyes widened as she looked at Elena. Elena babbled inanely as she stood up, aiming for casual insouciance as she wiped away any dirt that might have made marks on her butt. Del took the ear phones she’d been wearing out of her ears and stuck them in her pocket.

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‘You came here to get your clothes back?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘They’re in the living room, where you left them. I have to go. I need a walk.’ ‘Now?’ ‘I’ll see you later, okay?’ ‘No, wait.’ ‘What?’ ‘I need to tell you something.’ Del halted on her way halfway down the pebble-strewn driveway; she had been edging her way down while talking to Elena, and looked at her friend, hesitantly, troubled. ‘Is everything all right?’ ‘Well, kinda…’ ‘Whatever it is, it’ll be all right, okay? We can deal with it together.’ Leaning forward to Elena, who was at least a foot shorter than the redhead while she was in her boots, Del kissed her lightly on the forehead. Elena closed her eyes to it. Don’t weaken. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I didn’t mean to hurt you. ‘Something’s really wrong, isn’t it?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Tell me then. Tell me what it is.’

173 ‘I went back to Robin’s house last night.’ Elena lifted tortured eyes, which had no right to be tortured, to meet Del’s eyes and make out her reaction. She would make herself watch, stubbornly. She had caused this pain; she would watch it. ‘What?’ The initial reaction was a slow one, almost as if Del could not make herself believe what the individual words strung together meant in a full sentence. Like she could comprehend the familiar sound of the words, but not their collective meaning. The little patch of skin between her eyebrows was the first to shift, the skin bunching up as her eyebrows drew closer together. Then her mouth, which had been turned up in a comforting smile, faltered and slowly straightened to a line, then dipped further so that the edges of her lips were pointing down. The flush of her cheeks appeared; her eyes sparked. The second wave of reaction happened so much faster that Del was almost to the end of the driveway when Elena called out to her. ‘Stop, please.’ ‘No! Don’t you dare follow me. Don’t you dare.’ ‘But, please, Del, I didn’t…’ Del’s arm was stretched ahead of her as though psychically propelling Elena away, from moving any closer to her. Elena was so stung by the force of dread and the pit of illness in the depths of her

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stomach that she couldn’t move forward or backward anyway. Del’s skirt swirled around her high, black boots as she took heavy steps to the end of the pebbles in the driveway and turned left, out of Elena’s sight. She still didn’t move. The air seemed quiet, where before it had been storming. Even the neighbors who were usually the break in such silence, with their raucous rows in unintelligible Greek, were perhaps happy to be the entertained rather than the entertainers for once. Even the birds were quiet, instead of their usual cheeping in the front yard to the left of where Elena was left standing. Alone. Nobody was home. She already knew that. But Del hadn’t locked the door behind her. Slowly, Elena gathered her body under her strict control and made it trudge back up the driveway, to the back door where this had all started. Minutes only had passed. Would it have perhaps been better to try to get away with it? To not tell Del and try to let it all fade under the bridge, never to be known? Numbly, she picked up her belongings from the living room couch, changing from the soiled clothes belonging to Del, which had spent their night on the bedroom floor of Robin’s room. She folded them neatly, to be found in her absence, as though that could make up for everything else.

36. At home, Elena found a letter waiting half under the ‘welcome’ mat to her house. She dropped down to pick it up, opening it distractedly as she unlocked and pushed open the door. Dear Elena. I hate that after he kissed you last night, he wanted you more than he wanted me. I saw him a couple of times after that and he barely wanted to talk to me. He went to f ind you.

And I know that ’s not your fault, and I know I said I’d let him walk away this time, but that ’s just how I felt, and I thought that you should know.

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No signature, but there was no mistaking the author of this note. Elena turned the letter over, standing in the middle of the hallway; nothing was on the back. She turned it back to the right way and read it in her head again. I know that’s not your fault… A letter sent the night before, while Elena was in Robin’s bed. Passing her bedside table, she felt the letter fall numbly from her hands, something for her to deal with later. For now, she was curled up on her single bed, back against the yellow character wall in her room and recalling the events of the night before all too easily. Easily she had encouraged Robin with her smile and eyes, lips and tongue. Easily she had turned on Del and Timoth the instant she’d seen them turn on her. Easily she had forgotten completely about Stephanie; only now hoping she got safely home. Easily had she taken Robin up on his offer to go back to his house. Easily had she taken the bus back to Del’s house, to tell her what had transpired. No. Not that easily. But Elena could make herself think that had been easy. She could twist and turn the events and memories inside of her head so they played out in a way she could deal with. Easily, easily, easily; it was all so easily done, and Elena would do it

177 all again, in the instant she thought her friendship with Del could never be redeemed. She wasn’t sorry for doing it, for herself. She was sorry for doing it to Del. Easily did she begin to turn herself into the sociopath Brendan would at once call her to her face. ‘You are pushing people away. Close people too.’ Brendan was another friend Elena met through Del and Stephanie. They had met him through a university group of Medieval Re-enactment. For the girls, that meant prancing around in period garments. For the guys, there was learning swordplay and archery, which Del had been sure to involve herself in, as much as the males. Brendan was as much a daytime person as Timoth was of the night. In him, Elena met a mirror version of her younger self, someone she had wanted to teach and share her life lessons with, to begin with. He had a way of being aware of exactly what was going on around him, even if his attention seemed to be elsewhere. Sometimes that uncanny ability of his became quite unnerving to bear witness to. And Brendan was right, as usual; though it would take more than that simple statement to have Elena admit it. Soon after moving to New Zealand, she confided in him that if she ever knew she was just about to die, she had the ideal that she would fly

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to a random country and wreak emotional havoc on all those who dared befriend her there. This was something he ventured to remind her of after she attempted to push him away, successfully at first. Away from Del and Stephanie, she requested Brendan meet her in front of her house. Her ears were plugged with the loudest of abrasive music that Mike had burnt for her, as a going away present before she left him. Brendan’s familiar small white car pulled up on the road in front of her house, and she stood up from the gutter she’d planted herself in. ‘What’s wrong?’ ‘Come, let’s walk.’ ‘Okay…’ They walked. Dark kohl outlined Elena’s eyes, eyes she kept downcast on the road ahead of her, only just keeping the annoyance she felt at her tall friend beside her under wraps. It certainly wouldn’t do to let him know too soon what he was here for. It was her silence and her walk that gave her away. Brendan didn’t stay silent long. ‘Are you all right? You’re acting strangely.’ ‘We’re almost there now.’ ‘Almost where now?’ ‘You’ll see.’

179 ‘I may very well. What’s going on?’ Brendan grasped her arm, confusion all over his kind, blue eyes. Turned around, Elena steeled herself against that look. Into his eyes she glared, with the cold, green steel of her own. ‘Let go of me.’ ‘All right, but only if you tell me what’s going on.’ Her eyes didn’t relent, and it was Brendan who let her go, with a sigh that said he would continue following her now, if only to find an end to this mystery she was insisting on perpetrating. Stiffly she moved herself, almost as though the limbs and joints in her body were not properly oiled and it was difficult to make herself even walk. Without notice, she stopped, looking down at the grass in front of the narrow stream that trickled at the end of her street, just before the roundabout on the way to the girls’ house. Brendan sat down now and his eyes waited patiently, silently, until she revealed in her own time why they were here. ‘Things haven’t been right with us for a while.’ ‘Look, I think you’re hurting, that’s all. I think, if you opened yourself up to feel…’ ‘No! You think too much, Brendan. You don’t know.’ ‘All right. All right, what don’t I know?’ ‘I can’t tell you that. It isn’t worth anything. What I can tell you is

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180 how narrow minded you are.’ ‘Narrow minded…?’ ‘Yes, and it’s shitting me!’ ‘What?’

‘You think you’re so damned open minded; that you encompass everyone’s different views and actions, when the real truth is: if it doesn’t fit into your scope of the world, it just isn’t good enough for you.’ ‘That’s not true!’ ‘Isn’t it?’ ‘No!’ ‘Really? Okay then, what about that night when Timoth and I spent the night kissing at the party?’ ‘I didn’t think it was a good idea.’ ‘Wrong. You condemned it. It ‘didn’t feel right’ to you, so you condemned it.’ ‘It didn’t feel right because you are still grieving, and trying to forget through someone else.’ ‘Isn’t it my business what I do?’ ‘When will it stop, Elena?’ ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’ ‘When will it stop?’ ‘Maybe it won’t.’

181 ‘When will it stop, Elena?’ ‘It’ll stop when everything stops hurting!’ Those were words shouted, irrational, with emotion heightened by the fact that Brendan made no immediate reply. Elena’s breath heaved in and out of her body, and she concentrated on not making another outburst like that. This was wrong. She was supposed to be in control of this conversation, not him. She was the one of superior experience between them. She wouldn’t let him steer the conversation like that again. ‘I don’t want to see you again, Brendan. You are no good for me. That is why I asked you to come here today. To tell you to leave me be.’ ‘No good for you?’ ‘You heard.’ ‘I did. And you’re just going to continue doing this, are you?’ ‘Perhaps.’ ‘What about Stephanie and Del?’ ‘Them, I won’t touch.’ She’d never meant to hurt Del.

37. ‘I’m very messed up right now.’ ‘Not good to hear your head is all messy.’ Elena used emails and live chat as a way to communicate with Mike between the distances of where they lived. He was a nice, impartial person in the chaos of her mind, and the social circle she spun around herself here. Elena smiled every morning when she woke up to find messages written to her since the last time she’d checked. It was her solitary enjoyment in a life becoming so fragmented. It was to him only she spoke to this honestly. Only he was entitled to the secrets that ran through her mind and fingers typing block black

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183 characters on the keyboard, to be read by a supportive other. There was no reason to hide things from him; if she held herself back from saying some things, she knew there was no point to her admitting to anything. ‘I’m going hard at it in anger and verbal argument now, with Brendan especially. He called me a bitch, and rightly so. I am acting like a complete and utter bitch.’ ‘Things with Brendan sound as though they will become very interesting, very soon.’ ‘I want you to know, I’m not being a nice little girl at all right now.’ ‘I have never expressed this aspect of my soul, but we all control our own destinies. This will mean I watch closer and with a weary eye, nothing more.’ ‘Brendan will find me here eventually and then we are going to see exactly how far things can be pushed.’ ‘To a point, I am scared for you, that you will go through with things you will one day regret, but that is my fear and I own it.’ ‘It’s what I worry about doing to you I’m scared for.’ ‘I have survived this long and I will survive this ‘game’ that is played.’

38. Cold, green eyes looked out of the bus, and her mouth made a smile disconnected from the rest of her, as the beeping of the mobile in her back-pack indicated another invitation, to another party she would attend, and drown her sorrows further into the cess-pits of her body, and give herself up to be taken, in another loveless act of party living. Another beep and Del had found out where Elena had spent the night, and messaged her now. ‘Mates before dates’ is the saying right? You stick by your friends rather than get laid right? I don’t know what you were thinking—if you were thinking at all—but it ’s over

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185 between us now. Which is a sad way for us to end, but I’m not going to end up fucked over again.

In the aftermath of reading the message, Elena felt a swell of… relief bubble in her. She didn’t reply to it; no invitation for a reply had been given, and Elena wanted no chance to redeem herself. Not now. She had achieved freedom, by the willingness to give up her conscience. She had achieved it at a small price, her road to selfdestruction. Del wouldn’t try to bring her back now. Elena’s eyes would not have to open to painful truth or harsh reality, of a loss she could not follow, that she now refused to acknowledge was even there. Her body would make this parody of a dance in doing what was normal in everyday life and nobody would know, nobody would know the act she put on. It wouldn’t only be short hours before Stephanie would follow in the same path against her. The guilt of going back to Robin would be less then. It was better this way. She couldn’t even imagine the same ending coming about between her and Timoth. Maybe now Timoth stood a fighting chance with Del, now that Robin, like Elena, was out of her picture. Elena closed her eyes and thanked whatever gods were still even paying attention to her actions, that she hadn’t been the one to have to make the final, severing cut; she didn’t think she could have done that.

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Deleting the message from her phone, Elena shoved it back into her bag and stepped from the bus, for another workplace façade. Work filled most of her daytime hours, with added extra shifts she insisted on picking up. With none of the girls she had come here with spiraling around her, like leaves in a wind, Elena sought other friends. Friends of Robin’s were an easy choice, and so she became more often invited to smaller parties that the other girls did not know about, parties Robin would be attending. She was an endlessly likeable person, loveable and everybody’s friend, even when self destructing, or so it seemed. She had this knack that seemed to keep her in everybody’s good books. People hated to see her hurt, even people she had just met. Marie was only the latest in a line of examples of this, as she invited her into her house for a party, only four days after meeting her. Marie was just another person Elena let drift after she was done with her, just the same as with Robin. She was a taller girl than Elena, with mousey brown hair that curled around her jaw. Her whole face was a mass of freckles. One night, in the hallway of Marie’s house, Elena stood quite drunk on misery and alcohol, while Robin and Marie debated back and forth between them what would be best for her that night. ‘Robin, you should take Elena home with you.’ ‘Should I? Am I, Elena?’

187 ‘You can go home with him if you want, Elena. Or you can stay here.’ ‘Come, take my hand, I’ll show you the way from here.’ Elena swayed. Elena smiled sleepily at Robin. Elena smiled up at Marie and gave her a hug. Elena went home with Robin, Elena slept with Robin, Elena slipped further away. ‘Why did you invite me back to your house? I didn’t put out last time.’ ‘Are you going to this time?’ ‘I don’t know. Nothing left to lose.’ ‘Del didn’t forgive you?’ ‘What do you think?’ ‘I don’t know. Haven’t talked to her.’ That made two of them. Elena held onto Robin’s hand that was somehow around her shoulders, and dangling just above her breast. She leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked. He adjusted his stride to hers and she made her mind a clear absence of thoughts as they reached his driveway. As they reached his backdoor. As they reached his hallway. His bedroom door. His bedroom bed.

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188 His condom drawer.

There started a horrible pattern for her, a horrible, willing pattern that Elena put first in her life, seeing it as the only solid thing she had left. She never tried to explain that it had been smart.

39. ‘A part of me is waiting for someone else to just… take over. At the moment, I’m driving, and not very well. Now

I’m waiting for someone to eventually decide that I should not be the master of this game any longer. When that happens, it will become interesting, like you said; not before.’

Elena felt herself on the edge of breaking as she typed hard, cold words, addressed to Mike, to the backdrop of blue light in spring’s daytime that brought no life to her. Dark cover of night no longer brought solace for her to hide behind. Every day was another day that she did not have the courage in herself to take herself out of this

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unloving universe. Each night was one in which she failed in each attempt to stop herself from crying to sleep and praying for release from the mask she would don again as soon as the first lights of new day wrapped themselves around the brown curtains in her room. ‘I watch what I’m saying to Brendan. I have realized now that I can actually push him away and he won’t come back to me. That upsets me more than I would like. Damn.’

She hesitated in her typing, quite sure that these words she wrote might not be meant for any longer than the moments in which she wrote them. She wrote them anyway. ‘And yet, I can’t seem to say anything other than words to keep pushing him, pushing his buttons. He is all for love and the light; this darkness he does not get, doesn’t want to get. If

I keep up like this, he’ll be a friend I no longer have.’

Elena paused before clicking the ‘send’ key. Her finger paused over the mouse button, and at the last moment, she CCed Jessica’s email address so that it would also fall into her inbox. Only Mike replied. He organized with her a time when they could both be online, and spoke to her there. ‘It’s sad to hear that you’re forcing intimacy away. Intimacy is one of the drugs of life I love so much.’ ‘I don’t want to force intimacy away. This is my wretched desire to

191 separate myself from everything else that may come to hurt.’ ‘There is no need to go cold or push me away. I won’t go anywhere unless I see that’s where this ‘play’ must take me.’ ‘It’s like this is single minded desire intermingled with a slice of terror.’ Hours she spent standing against the window in her room, the door closed behind her, the ear phones in her ears, remembering times when she had not been afraid to step outside this place, for what she might do to those she encountered. The light from the street lamp illuminated her in her position near the window; an illumination she did not want or ask for, living her life as a silhouette outline of the girl she had always been. I can stop caring about everything the way it was and being me the way I was because I shouldn’t be here. Me, Elena, that girl I was... I am not her anymore because she went. She’s gone. And if I don’t act like her anymore, if I don’t have her friends and I don’t live that life she was in the middle of making, then I can become someone else for the short time that I remain here. No more Elena. She is dead. Without Elena, without her friend in a life that she could live in as well, Del quietly pushed people who weren’t willing to give up on Elena, towards Elena, trying to bring back that vivacious girl she had known, from the depths of her own self. Del missed her, crying at the

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unfairness of the loss, raging at the pain of it and fixing Stephanie with Soul Band-Aids when she cried about having lost Elena’s friendship; not understanding what they were supposed to have done to deserve it. None of them deserved it. And Elena cried out mutely; without hope.

40. A pattern began, of being woken up by texts that came through Elena’s phone, on mornings when Brendan got ready to go to Uni. Mostly, Elena would roll over, in the bed that she had not even looked at until four or five a.m., and cover her head with the blanket, that would drown out further noises in the house, of showers being used, by flat-mates getting ready to go to work at seven-thirty in the morning. Other mornings—work mornings—she would use it as a way, more pleasant than an alarm clock, to wake her up. Appearances became all-important to her. It was important that she seemed strong in everything she did. When Janet approached her

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in her bedroom, it indicated that she was coming across as anything but. ‘If you need a candle in the dark, I’m here.’ Elena turned her back on Janet, looking only at her many candles littered on her bedside tables, with tea candles in front of her book-case and on top of her chest of drawers, pointedly. She ignored Janet until, with a sigh, she went away. She wasn’t there when Brendan arrived at the front door, and eventually went away again, his knock unanswered. The only phone calls she accepted came from Robin and his friends, of invitations and propositions. Unwillingly, she began to read the messages that continued to come, with more forceful statements from Brendan. ‘What are you so afraid of? I have asked you before, but I think you know now. You know what would happen if you keep running away. And you know that there is a reason people like me aren’t letting you shut out the pain. Why do you say the time has passed for you to ask our help? I think you still need it. Help, perhaps from me, and definitely love, especially from Del. Why else would you be creating so much pain for yourself if not to remind you that it is there? Time to stop blocking it out. You taught me that. Time to feel again.’ She would not be made weak. In the early hours of morning only would she reply, knowing him

195 to be asleep and unable to reply in the instant her weakness was made known. She always gave herself time to rebuild it up again. She would not be drawn from her resolve. In letters sent briefly between them, Elena hesitatingly confessed to Jessica what had been happening. It was hard, and she didn’t like that Jessica could sit in another position of judgment over her. As a result, Elena stopped writing to Jessica about anything of much importance. She didn’t need another seat of judgment speaking to her. That didn’t mean that Jessica stopped reaching out. And Elena’s inner world became more twisted and turned in all the directions of her own will, and of those around her. Elena was glad she didn’t look like Del, when she went to Robin on subsequent nights. She was glad for the odd foot of height that was a difference between them, glad of the length, cut and color of their hair, and while they might have acted similarly at times when together, she didn’t really think that came across when she was around Robin. The first time Elena tried to organize going to Robin’s house, without the influence of alcohol to make the decision simpler, she chickened out and stayed at home. The second time, she told herself she was not chickening out two nights in a row, and after all, what did she have to lose if he told her no? She had already lost the most important thing; while she was numb, she couldn’t feel the pain of losing anything

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196 else now.

He didn’t say no. In fact, after her arrival, he admitted he was glad she had come; she was a good distraction. They both were. They actually found things to talk about. Elena was the one who moved for the first kiss. He kissed her back and then undressed and shifted under the covers of his bed. They spoke, kissing in between, spoke, fondling in between, spoke, beginning to have sex in between, spoke, went to sleep. ‘I love you.’ ‘I love you more.’ ‘I loved you first.’ ‘I’ll love you last.’ At around two a.m., Elena woke up to a feeling of being suffocated. A feeling like someone sitting on her chest and not letting her breathe panicked her, and forced her breaths to come too quickly. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t…! And Robin was just sleeping. Not caring, not waking up; hating her, not wanting her, never wanting her near him again. This was payback. This was Del and Robin working together against her for what she had done, and now she was going to pay and she was going to pay and she was going to pay. Elena bit her lips together and wouldn’t make a sound. At some

197 time, it occurred to her that Robin’s body was tilted towards her. His arm was around her waist, as it always fell when they went to sleep together. He head rested on top of her head, and there was no way this was about him, because he was right there. She lay her head down lower on his body. A heartbeat; there was the feel of his heartbeat, and the knowledge of it soothed her. She tried to close her eyes, to forget, remembering that she had come here completely sober and asked to stay at his house.

41. A chink in the armor of Elena weakened enough that she ventured out to ask Stephanie about Del, to ask Stephanie about Stephanie. To have some form of contact with those friends she had loved so much, and treated so badly. Don’t think this changes anything, Stephanie. Just too many cracks in the Elena-wall today. I can shake and I can cry and I can rage at anybody who dares tell me that I have done wrong. Cause I know it already. There has not been one moment when I have not known that I was doing wrong. But I did it anyway. And so I should be punished. And I am. And more

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199 punishment to come. Bring it on.

Better than that, Stephanie replied to her. ‘I’m sick of all the unhappiness; yours isn’t any less important than Del’s.’ ‘I think I hate this world a little bit in all of this.’ ‘Only a little bit?’ ‘Okay, a lot, then. How dare it?’ Water in the form of her heart and feelings began trickling through, as Elena stared at the stream where she’d first tried to push Brendan away. It didn’t make sense for her to hurt them, and for them to come back for more. Clearly Del was the only one smart enough to recognize the pattern, and stay away before she could get ‘fucked over again’. She didn’t know she wouldn’t hurt them again; stay away, stay away. Elena watched a bus with Timoth riding as a passenger on it. The bus stopped on the other side of the road. He saw her standing in front of her bus stop, and she saw anger light in his eyes. Nothing else mattered to him; Del had been hurt by this. He knew where his loyalties lay. And yet still, even Stephanie, closest friend to Del, agreed to see Elena eventually in a tenuous arrangement. They organized to meet outside of her house, then go for walks, so Del wouldn’t have to face them together.

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Their first few minutes were awkward at best, while Stephanie had no idea of what to say to Elena, and Elena didn’t much want to take part in any serious conversation between them. Uncomfortably at first, Stephanie just jumped in, with the truth of what she felt. ‘I don’t like relying on secondhand information about what you’re doing these days.’ ‘I don’t even know what secondhand information you’d have gotten. Who do we both even talk to?’ ‘I’ve heard a couple of things from Brendan. Actually, he talked to Del while he was here.’ To Brendan and Stephanie, Elena spoke in low, vacant tones. If she couldn’t hide her pain from them like she could with her newer friends, she would at least avoid all thoughts leading in that direction. Things only got bad when she thought of them. Elena stopped thinking of them. She kept telling herself that now she had lost friendships over it, there were no reasons for her to stop sleeping with Robin and doing the damage that came with that, but the reasoning became ever more faulty, with each request Stephanie and Brendan made for her time. Each time these tiny chinks made themselves visible, Elena whimpered, and then ran around to set things back into their tiny boxes that made sense and made it go away again. She would never be okay

201 after this and if there could be no resolution, she’d be damned before she’d wear it all on her sleeve for other people to gawk over. The hurting on the inside would only make her more determined to make the façade on the outside seem more real. She was okay. She’d been playing this game for more than a month now, but it had only been after she started destroying things, and people, that anyone started noticing. Two months after Sam died, Elena told herself she did not care that Jessica and Mike were coming up short on the funds to help her come back to Melbourne for their birthdays. She sat in her room in the house where her flat-mates had turned their backs on her because of her behavior, and told herself that this was what she wanted. This loneliness only meant that she would not be hurt again, and if she didn’t go to Melbourne, she couldn’t wreak havoc on her friends there, as well as here. She wondered if Jessica had already judged her for her actions and found her wanting. As ever, she found Mike as her voice of cool reason. ‘I don’t think you will find she’ll judge you; she just doesn’t seem like it.’ ‘Her life is so different from mine now. She’s so far away.’ ‘ You would not judge her for similar things. It is just not an element of your relationship.’

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202 ‘I am sad. I am unsure.’

The truth was, she did not want to test her relationship with Jessica, for fear the test would fail. All the same, after the conversation with Mike, she opened the email that had been waiting in her inbox from Jessica, and read it. You have done bad, my friend. Is that what you want me to say? To validate your behavior and tell you what you already know? I would welcome any and all information on your life, like I have always done. We have been friends too long for me to let that go now. Still, if it had been me instead of Del, I don’t know if I would have forgiven you.

By the candle light she lit in her room, since the sun had gone down, she told herself she didn’t care that she could no longer rely on her easy escape plan from this place. The tears trembling from her bottom lashes, trickling down her cheeks in glowing snail trails from the candle-light, didn’t mean anything. Those tears were only another betrayal, from a body that had betrayed her enough times that she had no care for it any longer. No future, no reality, no point beyond tomorrow, then the next day, then the next, then the next. The raining night of Jessica’s birthday came and, lying in bed with tears that would not stop, Elena wished herself dead. She made her promise to the gods that she would wish it every

203 day and every night, until it was done. It was a betrayal that nobody outside of her room was ever made privy to.

42. Elena missed Del endlessly, no matter how many layers of emotion she tried to shut down, to make everything less real and make everything not matter. She ranted at her in silence. Wrote empty letters she would never send. How could Del hurt her without knowing she was doing it? How could she take Timoth when she didn’t even want him? Why hadn’t she seen how much she’d still been hurting after Sam died? Why couldn’t she see Elena begging to be shown her love? Dearest my heart Del. I love you. I always have. I can no longer remember a time that wasn’t so, even before meeting you face to face in

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205 Ireland. And so I hurt the ones I love. But this is the letter I would write to you if I knew I would never go back to sleep with Robin. Cause I couldn’t bear you to take me back only to go through all of this again.

If there was no more Robin, I would hold you in my arms like you held me; I would kiss your forehead like you kissed me before I told you… before I said… It doesn’t matter, it wouldn’t matter, because I would step back and hope to see the love shining with the hurt, and maybe I would be lucky enough to be forgiven again.

And then I would leave you. Turn around and walk out the French doors in front of your house. Hope you would remember me fondly and not hate me too much when you saw

Robin that next time. I would leave because I wouldn’t want to remain as a painful memory near you always.

But in the end, they were all never sent, because what did it matter? Her tears came to their gradual end; like someone who has thrown up too much can only dry retch; dry sobs were all Elena had left. And still she wanted to cry for not being with Del. When this was all over and Elena stopped fucking Robin, she would still miss Del. But until then, Robin was someone who was not dead already when she had sex with him.

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Not until her subconscious mind filled in that particular blank for her. Elena dreamed Robin died. Like with Sam, she was out of the country when it happened; in Australia, after Jessica and Mike miraculously found the money to take her there. There were too many random faces Elena didn’t recognize, or did recognize from chance meetings that only numbered in one of a few, from random drunk evenings she had attended since sleeping with Robin. One thing was certain; Del was not there. When she related the dream to Brendan, he agreed that with her current state of mind, Del would not attend. Elena wondered if their past friendship would be lengthy enough that even despite these past weeks, Del would still attend her own funeral when she died. But she didn’t say it out loud. It was the kind of dream that kept Elena gasping in her bed in a cold sweat, unable to open her eyes even after she was made to wake, thinking that if she just kept her eyes closed, then it couldn’t happen again. It couldn’t happen again. She ran to the hospital beneath her eyelids to see his dead body, because they had already moved the body by the time Eileen got to her about Sam. The message he sent her in the dream mingled with the one he had sent her last night, saying only, I’m not doing so well today.

207 She could have done something, she’d known something was off, she could have done something, she might have stopped this and oh god she hadn’t, and now it was too late and he was never coming back; he was never coming back. Her throat constricted and she clawed at the covers on top of her that were sinisterly suffocating her. She was forced to open her eyes, then, and scrambled across the floor to where her phone had been tossed in early morning, when one of Brendan’s messages had beeped through. She began keying a message she would send to Robin, while her inner eye swept her mind mercilessly with mental images of things that should not be real. From old school ground play equipment, he had jumped. Wooden, grainy logs had met shards of wood chips that caretakers put down to reduce injury of children but they hadn’t seen this coming. That had been Elena’s job to see, and she’d missed it a second time, as he’d jumped and broken his neck. And then he was prone on the wood chips, legs and arms and, most importantly, head and neck, set at improper angles, which no human head and body should be set apart from each other. Elena could just see the chalk and spray-painted lines from American crime shows appearing, and outlining the dead body of the second male she had slept with. She had only slept with him, and that had been enough to see him dead.

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wanted to be convenient. The irony was that he was the person she had drawn closer for his unlikelihood of dying.

43. Elena blinked, though dried up tears threatened to keep her eyes shut once they closed, when she wanted to open them again. The words were on the computer screen, plain for her to see, but nonetheless unbelievable for it. I love you. Jessica and I will have the money for your ticket to fly here. I know this is just what you didn’t want to happen, and I am sorry. I love you. I just don’t know what to do right now. I wrote this 40 minutes ago and I still don’t know if

I can post it. I just keep adding to it and getting more scared of what you will think when you read it. You need to know I

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don’t expect anything in return. I just needed you to know how

I feel. Then tell me if it is too much. Elena took a breath. Turned her head to the side and stared at the gold plated room divider nailed to the floor between the computer room and the hallway, to keep the carpet down in both rooms. She looked at the computer screen again and got up. Got breakfast. Looked briefly in the mirror and saw that her eyes as were ringed as ever; empty, harsh. She looked away; her reflection made bile run to her throat and it was too early to deal with that now. She returned to the computer screen and sat in Nathaniel’s computer chair. Lifted her hands to write. Moved the mouse and closed down the window. She had nothing there to add. In Robin’s bed, she lay there after sex, staring at the dim ceiling. Saying nothing. She heard him shift in the bed, covers giving him away before he spoke. ‘Are you okay?’ ‘You keep asking that.’ ‘Well, after being woken by a message at nine a.m. on a Sunday, I suppose I’ve earned that right.’ ‘Debatable.’ ‘So, are you okay?’ ‘For someone who asks that so much, you keep your eyes shuttered

211 well enough.’ ‘Yeah, sorry about that.’ ‘It’s okay.’ ‘You looked really, really sad.’ ‘You look really, really tired.’ ‘Yeah. I need sleep.’ ‘Guess I’m not really good for you, being here like I am.’ ‘For that reason, no. But you being here makes me more sane.’ ‘Yeah, that’s the same for me.’ ‘You don’t seem like the type to fall apart.’ Falling and shattering. Showed how much he really saw her; not at all. Slipping and slipping and almost disappearing and even in his arms, there was nothing she could do to stop it. Closing her eyes, she ignored the single tear that slipped through and tried to will herself to sleep, or absence. Her back was turned to him, but nonetheless, it was she who spoke next. ‘I’m going to Melbourne soon.’ ‘You won’t be here for my birthday?’ ‘No. I’m sorry.’ ‘That’s fine.’ Unlike everyone else she knew, Elena continued to overdose on sleep, after Sam died. She didn’t sleep with Robin again after that night;

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like the faintest show of caring or interest between them withered away all the reason they had first come together. There was no need to speak to Robin again after leaving his house, and he didn’t contact her.

44. In her dreams, she saw a wooden house in the middle of a clearing. There was a dirt path, light tan in color, which wound around the small living space, past the edges of the woods. There was a rock face not far past the house, but the clearing was mostly grass, the lush, green color of spring. Dream-Elena shook her head slightly against the warm, comforting vibes that drew like tendrils around her small body; even smaller in this place that stretched out so wide and bright and welcoming. DreamElena shook her head and turned to where the rock face dropped and the water looked calm beneath, at least from this distance.

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Turning the rest of her body around to where her head was facing, Elena started off at a slow run that grew faster, a single-minded dash to the edge of that ledge, before those who wanted to keep her here succeeded in their wish. Her breath came to her easily, like she wasn’t actually running. Wind in her hair, in her eyes, in her clothes that were flapping away from her body with the rush of the motion as she dropped down and down and down, staring at the water that led towards the horizon, rushing now, rushing, rushing up to meet her escape. Plunging into water she held her breath and opened eyes that would not open, to fill with grey, the murkiness of water known in her wakeful state. She waved her arms slightly up and down as if waiting for something to happen, but without any sense that her air was running out, or that her lungs were bursting. She just floated, looking down passively and watching as a strand of seaweed wound its way around her ankle, anchoring her where she was, and she looked up to the surface of the water she could not reach. Her attention grew duller and breathing became more labored each day, almost as though her repeated dreams of drowning were enforcing themselves in her waking life. A sort of peace was found within Elena after that night. She composed a text message to Mike that she never sent.

215 I would be suicidal if I could bear the idea of giving that many people that much pain. And yet, how much pain have

I been putting people through by being here? I haven’t been telling you everything of late. I serve no point by being here, other than to cause other people pain. I do not wish to live.

Sleep was a thing that became even more necessary. Elena liked to see it as further proof her body was beginning to just not cope, and she wouldn’t have to make the final act herself. She named herself a song to be played at her funeral and wrote it down in her personal journal, remembering the arguments that had been brought up around Sam’s funeral on what songs would be best played. She wanted her transition made and finished as smoothly as possible. Repeated attempts to inform Brendan that not wanting anything of this place meant he couldn’t bring her out of her state with promises of hope and love and time and friends and any number of the foolish, foolish things he continued to try to thrust towards her through the recent weeks. She grew so sick of it. She really wanted to say goodbye properly; to all her people, but she had been traveling a very dangerous edge these past days, seeing Stephanie one evening and Brendan the day before her Melbourne trip. Still, Brendan sent her a message after she confided in him the

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dream of drowning: ‘ You cannot live and keep repressing like this.’ He was right. For three days, since the first dream, Elena had felt herself on the brink of breaking. Her edges were raw and she could see slashes of bright in her mind’s eye that threatened an outward explosion as opposed to the slow, mental implosion she had planned. Every tightness of throat, every harsh breath, every stomach cramp; in all of that, she saw the early signals of her eventual death but she didn’t want it without her control over it. Packing for Melbourne, Elena felt the very spirit of reminiscence drift over her. It was like she was packing to go home from Ireland. To head home. To Sam. Less than a year had passed and Elena would never know that home again. On this night before she left Christchurch, the air smelt of a wonderful spring night and reminded her of times past with Jessica, as spring nights always seemed to do. There was the distant sound of fireworks cracking as they were not illegal to set off in backyards here, as they were in Melbourne. In one day, she would be in Melbourne, two hours behind Christchurch, probably having dinner with Mike or with Jessica, or whoever decided to take her in. She would be living out of a backpack but that was okay, for she was no stranger to that. Without bedroom or belongings, Elena would be truly cast adrift in the city that had once

217 been her home. She would forget this world of Stephanie and Brendan and Del. Nothing would be resolved, but in this world, what really ever was?

45. In the walk-way after customs, Elena walked in slow steps; slow because she didn’t want to race towards people she might feel little or no closeness to upon seeing them, no matter what their pasts. She procrastinated, her hand clinging to the rail while her feet slowed to accommodate the rest of her body’s reluctance. People rushed past her, eager to get to those greetings of loved ones waiting for them. Elena didn’t feel any of that. Mike had left another message for her, one she found just before leaving for the plane. Well it has been a while since either of us has tapped

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219 out anything for the other to read but I thought I might do so now. You will be here tomorrow and I eagerly await that moment. I hope our writing has not stopped because either of us are tired of the others’ words. I remember I used to hurry home to see what comments you had made. I know I have not tired of writing; have you? Soon we will be speaking anyway, and that will be pleasant. A small part of me, a demon in my head, tells me you have tired of me, but of late, I have had many demons.

He was not the only one, but they both knew that. In arriving, Elena came to realize that for the first time since their acquaintance, there would be another person coming to meet her who knew her presently better than even Jessica did. So. She had passively managed to push Jessica away from her as well. Well done her. Fingers clinging to the railing were forced to give way as the railing came to its end. Then she was standing in front of doors that were automatically opening, opening to reveal her in all naked glory in this place of bad news. Mike and Jessica were standing there. Hesitating, and not looking in either of their eyes, Elena dragged her feet and her backpack that she had taken for this short stay. When she came to stand in front of Jessica, a polystyrene cup was held right

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under her nose and a childish, hopeful expression lighted her best friend’s eyes. Black hair fell over Jessica’s shoulders and back. It was longer than the last time Elena had seen it, but Jessica’s hair had always grown quickly. Before looking at Mike or thinking of herself, she drew Jessica close and held her; breathing in the familiar scent of her hair and wanting to trail her lips across it. She didn’t. Her eyes met Mike’s. Sadness was in his blue eyes, alongside a kind of hope; as though to say that sadness in his eyes would not be made master of him. His hair was tied loosely and he met her gaze with a lopsided smile. It was a nice stance to see for one who cared. ‘Shall we?’ Jessica offered her arm for Elena to cling to and Mike directed the two girls towards his car in the park, eating up money for being there two minutes, five minutes, ten minutes, twelve minutes; going up several dollars per minute. The toll was paid and they were released, to break fast in any number of inner city cafes. Elena made no opinion. Being in Melbourne was a bittersweet experience. Not worse, nor better than being in Christchurch, Melbourne became a place of hyperreality where her two closest friends were still her friends, and yet she could walk through the city streets in utter anonymity.

221 She didn’t tell her parents of her return, mainly because it didn’t occur to her. The only people who knew about her return were the people who had organized it, and the people they had told. Elena watched on, a stranger in her own life. Without work or the constant pull of too many people she knew in a small-town city, Elena let herself sleep even more often while staying at Mike’s house, as he was the one who worked eight hours in every day. Jessica’s feelings were hurt by this, but it was accepted, like everything else. Elena didn’t love her like she used to. Didn’t love at all. She had lost too large a part of herself when Sam had died so suddenly. He’d taken it with him before she’d had time to reach out and take it back. No one was even kind of special. They were all just kind of okay. Perhaps that was how the rest of the world viewed lukewarm friendships. Elena didn’t have to think about it if she slept. Mike would wake her when he came home and they would talk, or he would talk and she would nod and smile. He asked further reactions from her and she gave them, leaning forward to kiss him with a small smile. His arms wrapped around her as he kissed her, and the covers of the bed were pulled back, at the same time as their unnecessary clothing was pulled away. After the event, Elena felt her eyes return to cold. This was just another body intermingled with hers, unchanged by the sex, but had

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she wanted it to be? Had she wanted to be the same again afterwards, or had she come to him like she did because she wanted something to change? Had she wanted him to be the one who brought her back? It didn’t matter, and he fell asleep in the bed beside her, oblivious and ignorant. The next day she was sitting in the soiled bed, in the room that smelt of heat and sex while Mike sat naked in front of his computer. Nothing had changed, nothing had changed.

46. It was Elena sitting in front of the computer while Mike was at work. She’d been woken up by his leaving. Used clothes, both his and hers, were strewn on the floor between bed and computer, but Elena barely looked at them when she walked over them. She was clothed in loose pants and a baggy t-shirt that hung over her frame, down to midthigh. Words and characters on the computer screen lost their meanings to Elena as she stared at them, through them, past them. There was nothing beyond them, though Elena wasn’t really looking or thinking or speaking. Were she to do any of those things, she would sound self

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pitying or asking for attention or suicidal. She wanted to sound like none of those things; she felt like she was all of those things. She continued to stare. And stare. Deeper and deeper into herself with unseeing eyes to betray the inside of her head or empty body, that had not had a proper meal for days. Her stomach was growing smaller now, needing less and less food, which was a good thing, as Elena did not want to take food from the house Mike was living in, without paying for it. He paid for the food she did not eat, to keep his housemates happy. She stayed inside his room to keep his housemates happy. She stayed in front of his computer; kept watching the computer monitor that did not change. But slowly, slowly, she changed. It wasn’t a coldness and it wasn’t something that swept through her. It was tepid and slow moving, slow moving and unnoticeable until Elena blinked her eyes and realized that she did not care. Whatever last emotion had lingered in her chest and her limbs had uprooted and flown out Mike’s side window, without any conscious decision or prior realization from Elena. And so she was left, a hollow husk, completely devoid of all she had been, and she picked up the only jagged object she could find. Red track marks made interesting and jagged patterns upon pale, cream, Irish skin; a friend who had come to call upon her and drag her

225 from the absence of even misery. Criss-crossing outlines drew pretty pictures that only Elena could make out through her sloe eyes that dimly made measure of her impulsive actions. She could now no longer rage at her friends who had done the same thing; marveled at the same patterns made and adored on their own fleshy canvases. She was curled in the bed, half huddled under blankets that had fallen over her when the thoughts caused her to collapse in tears, and try to hide again from a cruel world that would crave elements like this. She would alternate between knowing she had not actually craved any of it and knowing that the utter apathy that had taken her over, left her without options, other than those carved into her arms and into her legs. Elena had wanted to kill herself today. The gods who were meant to deliver her from that fate had taken too long; her body and self could not wait even one instant longer before desiring, needing, an end to it. And then she couldn’t. The idea of Mike walking in and finding his sheets bathed with blood, in her blood, his blankets soaked red with it, was more than he deserved for offering her his place for solace. Did that then mean that the people she had hurt, who had hurt her in return deserved that fate visited upon them? Could she willfully have found herself in this place on Del’s bed, and spilled her blood on blue, starry sheets she herself had slept beneath in the early mornings before

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226 the start of this turn? No.

And then Elena was wrong. It was not pretty. And when Mike returned, he saw the flesh marks torn into her skin and she felt disgusting, disgusted and ugly and wrong. Instead of judging, he only held her close; in the loving circle of his arms, he kept her steady. A calm, ongoing punishment ran around inside her head, now she could feel; everything had been inflicted on herself, by herself. ‘It’s okay. You were allowed to do this.’ ‘I didn’t… I didn’t want to; I had to…’ ‘You had to see what it was like.’ ‘Why? No.’ ‘You weren’t made for this kind of pain.’

47. After hours passed and Mike held Elena against his chest for so long, she began to think of his heartbeat as somehow being a part of her too. Elena began to think it possible that she’d be able to move again without breaking. As she sat up slightly on the bed, still in contact with him through legs and thighs that were intertwined, Mike gentled his hold on her. She could feel his gaze trained steadily on her, yet just as steadily, avoided it. ‘I was ready to say goodbye here, like this would be the last time I would see you.’ The words were said without emotion, as though Elena couldn’t

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imagine reliving those feelings. They were spoken in a voice that seemed more reflective than distant. Even now, only moments later, she couldn’t understand how she had gotten so lost in everything. Her body felt exhausted, even though she had over indulged in the number of hours usually allocated for sleeping. Her eyes and throat felt dry and raw. She had been crying for a long time. Part of her was surprised that she could talk at all. It wasn’t needed for her to say more. Mike understood. From behind her, his arms clenched against her body so that she leaned into him again, only slightly more relaxed now that the admission was off her chest. She felt him take a breath before he opened his mouth to talk. ‘If I had thought that was still the case, I wouldn’t let you go.’ ‘I know.’ With a sigh drawn from the bottom of her torso, Elena turned slowly around in his arms until she was facing him again. She stared into his eyes for a moment before leaning in for a gentle butterfly kiss. Her eyes fluttered shut as she was aware of him grasping her tighter to him again. Their torsos pressed against one another above the barrier of the clothes they each still wore. Mike’s hands pressed against her lower back. Elena kissed him once more before leaning back and brushing a finger tip to his lips where hers had just been.

229 ‘I can’t stay here. It’s so tempting, but, I’m not ready.’ Mike just nodded against her finger. When Elena reached out for Mike again, it was with tenderness, not lust. She touched the ends of his hair, reveling in the straight, blonde locks that moved through her fingers like silk before returning to their place against his shoulders as if they had never been moved. She stared at the picture that those strands made against his black t-shirt for a moment, until he regained her attention with a finger to her chin, gently forcing her gaze up to his loving one, and leaning in to kiss her again. Only then did she deepen their kiss. Slowly moving up onto her knees, she held him against her as though he were something precious. She was still conscious of his heart beat, now quickening against her stomach. He had given her something precious, and that in turn made him precious to her—he had given her back some part of herself to love. ‘Please… get your… off…’ She whimpered disjointed words against his skin as she continued to kiss his face, his neck, his collarbone, at the same time as trying to find the bottom folds of his black tee. She didn’t think about her clothes just then; they would be easy enough to do away with once his were gone. Elena knew her own clothes; his were the foreign items. ‘Here, let me help with that.’

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Mike’s voice was soft, indulgent, as he ran his hands over hers, comfortably encouraging her hands away from where they were currently making it more difficult for him to find the end of his t-shirt. He chuckled, with his head rested upon the top of her head and his throat vibrating his laughter against her cheek. Elena closed her eyes and smiled silently at the sensation. His t-shirt was pulled over his head and then disappeared to one side of the bed. Elena didn’t even glance that way. She smiled up at him, shifting again so that they were eye to eye with each other once more. ‘Thank you.’ ‘What for?’ The question was accompanied with a shrug. Elena flicked some of her hair out of her face. ‘For being you.’ ‘I hear I do that fairly well.’ He caressed her cheek as it lifted in a smile, then drifted his hand down so that his thumb was dipping under the top she was wearing. She ducked her head with a smile still on her lips, trying for coy and knowing it failed miserably. When she glanced at him next, it was a side glance, from the corner of her eye. He kept her eyes on him as he reached behind her back to unhook her bra without ever needing to look.

231 ‘Show off.’ Her bra was discarded, her top along with it. Elena sat on his bed, naked from the waist up and watching him as his hands moved to her hips and he admired the shape of her. She had never thought she would feel pretty again; she would never be seen as pretty through Sam’s eyes after he died. Mike made her feel not like she was perfect—because she knew she wasn’t—but that the small imperfections of her body didn’t matter. ‘You’re beautiful.’ Elena blushed. She wasn’t used to sitting on a bed and being stared at as Mike was currently doing. It was her reflex to lift her arms, to cover herself, but she didn’t. Under his gaze, she found she didn’t need to. Moments seemed to move slowly now. The air in the room grew heavy and expectant. Elena watched Mike and when he looked at her again, his eyes echoed the words he had spoken. Then he moved forward. He took the tip of her nipple, which had grown hard and into a point since being unwrapped, and massaged it in his mouth with his tongue. The quiver that went through her came with a moan as Elena arched slightly and looked down, to see his eyes looking at her, waiting for her attention to be on him, before he opened his mouth and bit down on her nipple gently. She gasped, loudly, then hoped that nobody

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A devilish smile gripped Mike’s features. He moved his ministrations to her second nipple, this time drawing in, and lathering with his tongue, as much of her breast as he could comfortably fit into his mouth. His hand reached out to massage her other breast with palm, thumb and forefinger. When she was writhing, with shots of desire traveling from breast to her sex and stimulating each nerve ending in between, Mike lifted his head from her breasts once more, and moved to separate her from the rest of her clothing. Elena willingly shifted her hips to make this easier for him, shuddering inwardly, and just waiting for him to touch her again. ‘I lust for you.’ Parting her lips, mostly so she could dart out her tongue to wet her lips and dry mouth, Elena echoed the sentiment, slightly out of breath. Mike seemed amused by this, as he trailed his fingers smoothly up her thigh. She was completely naked in front of him. ‘But you… you…’ ‘All in good time.’ He kissed her again. Elena felt herself moving up off the bed as he drew away, eager to cling to his lips even after they weren’t offered any longer. Mike pouted in an imitation of her disappointed expression,

233 then gently teased her by flickering his fingers at the edges of her labia. A jolt of pleasure even more intense than when he’d been suckling on her nipples ran through her, changing the expression on her face quite utterly. Then he withdrew his fingers cruelly, waiting only long enough for her eyes to turn to silent begging again, before fingering her closer to where she longed to be touched. After moments of this give and take, and constantly getting closer but never quite getting there, Elena growled deep in her throat and reached down to grab his hand, forcing him not to pull away yet again from the exquisite delight he was unleashing for her between her thighs. ‘Don’t stop…’ Her sentence ended on her mouth open and in a silent gasp. Mike didn’t take his hand away, even after her hold on his hand dropped and she was wracked in pleasure unending. His fingers worked furiously, bringing her to the point of orgasm. Even after Elena felt her orgasm shake her entire body, she noticed that the stimulation Mike was causing had not ended. He smiled innocently as she looked at him between her legs and her hips started moving with a volition of their own, with only the heightened pleasure that suffused her being bearing any evidence that she had already come. That didn’t mean she was finished. She already wanted more, and

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Elena found it took even less this time to get her stimulated to a point where her hips were undulating up and against the bed uncontrollably as she approached her second orgasm. ‘Come, my love. Come for me.’ She did, gushing all over his hand a second time. He continued rubbing his fingers over her sex in the moments that passed, when she was too far gone to be aware of anything other than the pleasure sense. Only when one final shudder convulsed her, and nothing further moved her body, did Mike move his hand away and subtly wipe it against the edge of the bed sheets. ‘Do you feel better?’ The question came out of his mouth silkily, lazily. Elena smiled in her own rapture; her whole body splayed out across his bed. ‘Oh yes. But wait. You didn’t…’ ‘No. This time was for you.’ ‘But don’t you want to…’ ‘Not now. Later tonight, maybe. For now, let’s rest. I love you.’ His lips kissed her forehead. His arms held her once again, and Elena felt the love he spoke of inside her. When, in late morning the next day, Elena leaned over the edge of the bed, it was to look under it for where her shoes could have gone

235 after she had taken them off when they got here. Retrieving them, Elena pulled them over the socks she already wore, before glancing at the form of Mike, still warm in his bed. ‘So, what are you going to do now?’ The question was inevitable. Elena had been trying not to think of it, just as she had been trying to function like a normal person again, and keep the images of Mike’s covers soaked in her blood as far away from her mind as possible. Her whole body seemed to deflate into itself, as though that one, simple question carried with it the weight of the world. ‘I think I have to go see Jessica.’ When she searched for Mike’s eyes, she was looking for his agreement, his support, or some other sign to tell her that she was not wrong all over again. What she got was him giving up warm sheets, to sit up and lean his head against her shoulder. It was comforting, that little movement. It softened Elena’s features again and caused her shoulders to relax. Instead of answering her, he smiled and caressed the back of her head just before she leaned forward and left the bed to looked around for her backpack, which had half slipped under his bed.

48. Jessica’s mum opened the door. Her expression turned surprised. ‘Elena. I didn’t know you were back in the country again.’ ‘Only for a little while. Is… is Jessica home?’ ‘Yes, come in.’ Elena walked past Jessica’s mum and down the hallway. Her step became hesitant as she reached Jessica’s doorway, and she halted there, just within Jessica’s room. Jessica looked up curiously. She was sitting on the floor in her room, gathered mess of books and artwork in piles around her. Elena didn’t move from where she stood. Jessica didn’t look away. Eventually,

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237 she raised her eyebrow. ‘Are you going to stand there all day?’ ‘Well… no, I hadn’t planned to.’ Elena ducked her head and took another step into Jessica’s room. Jessica stood up then and extended her hand to Elena, who reached out for it and had to step around the items strewn all over the floor to get to Jessica’s side. ‘Yeah, sorry about that.’ ‘I was used to it.’ ‘Is it strange being back?’ ‘Yeah.’ Standing in front of Jessica, Elena took in a shuddering breath, then hazarded to hold Jessica in her arms. Jessica exhaled against Elena’s shoulder, and her arms snaked up around Elena’s waist and held her firmly there. That was what encouraged Elena to tighten her hold and not step away immediately. ‘I’ve missed you.’ ‘I know. I… got lost.’ ‘I know. And now?’ ‘I’m trying to find myself.’ ‘That’s good.’ Jessica lifted her head to look at Elena close on. She smiled and

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lifted one hand to brush a strand of Elena’s brown hair out of her face. ‘There you are.’ Elena smiled, leaning her face into Jessica’s palm. ‘Thank you.’ Taking a deep breath, Jessica withdrew her fingers and dropped her hand to her side. Elena stepped back and sniffed, averting her face and trying to make out that everything was as normal between them, should Jessica’s mother wander in on them. As she looked around the room, her brow furrowed and she turned her head back towards Jessica’s hallway. ‘What is it?’ ‘Where’s Ashleigh?’ ‘Oh.’ Elena’s gaze returned to Jessica and this time it was the other girl’s turn to avert her gaze. Jessica bit her lip, then her look returned to Elena. ‘Ashleigh and I broke up. It was a little after Sam died… maybe a month. It wasn’t working.’ ‘Oh, Jessica… are you okay?’ Nodding eagerly, Jessica did her best to convince both herself and Elena. ‘I’m okay. Really, it’s okay.’

239 ‘Do you still see him?’ Jessica shook her head. Elena reached out to clasp her hand in hers. Their eyes met with mutual understanding. Elena was the first to snort aloud. ‘Too much to expect the pattern of our lives would deviate for long.’ ‘Yeah. I guess so.’ It was almost funny. Elena’s snort turned into a twist of the lips that caused Jessica’s eyebrows to raise and then the two of them were hiding near hysterical giggles behind equally ineffective bunched fists. Pursing her lips together, Jessica led Elena towards her bed, where they could both sit down, instead of the middle of her room, where any step to the side would cause one of them to trip over ordered debris. Elena let herself lean against Jessica, in a familiar recline. She tilted her head backwards so she could look up at Jessica momentarily. ‘I don’t know how things got really messed up this year.’ Jessica stopped her nodding in answer to that statement and rested her jaw against the crown of Elena’s head. Elena moaned her contentment, allowing further thoughts to stem from that statement and run silently through her subconscious. She would have enough thinking about it to do once she returned to New Zealand. ‘I like Mike.’ ‘You do? Yeah. I like him too.’

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‘I’m glad. I think he’s good for you.’ ‘Well, he’s a good friend.’ Above her, where Elena couldn’t see, Jessica raised her eyebrows. Her silence was telling, which caused Elena to shift restlessly in her arms. She looked up curiously at her best friend, her eyes asking her question before her words did. ‘What?’ ‘Nothing.’ ‘No… you have something face.’ ‘Well… I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It looks like… to me at least, he thinks of you as more than just a friend.’ ‘Well, we are good friends.’ ‘Good friends?’ Elena looked away. That was what she had tried to convince herself of. But in the midst of this conversation, she couldn’t quite forget the email Mike had sent her just before she’d been flown back to Melbourne. ‘Well… he might have said he loved me, once.’ ‘Does he still?’ ‘I don’t know.’ ‘Don’t you think, you know, it might be a good idea to ask?’ Elena’s brow furrowed. Sure, that was the logical option. But in

241 the real world, Elena didn’t even know whether an answer of yes or no would make her more comfortable around him. Feeling unease, Elena slumped back against her best friend’s body and didn’t make any reply. Jessica reached out to stroke Elena’s hair. ‘How long can you stay here for?’ ‘A couple of weeks. I’ve booked to go back. I don’t want to. There are so many things I need to try to fix when I get back there.’ ‘It’s good, good that you’re going to go back to fix those things up.’ ‘Yeah. But I don’t know how I’m going to face them.’ ‘With your head held high and your heart in the right place, just like my girl. That’s your inner strength.’ Elena smiled, more gratified than she would say that Jessica felt that way about her. She snuggled in further to Jessica’s hold and listened to the ticking of her friend’s Garfield clock on the wall, until Jessica’s mother came in to invite her to stay for dinner.

49. ‘It’s hard.’ ‘Yeah.’ Elena and Xavier sat outside of his parents’ house, after she’d called him to see if he had the day off work and minded having her visit. Across the road from them and to the left was a park where little children were crying out to be ‘pushed higher, higher!’ on the swings that their parents were supervising. Elena’s mind flashed back to the day she had come back here, to the knowledge of Sam’s death. She had run out of this house when everyone’s sympathies became too much for her to bear, and run across this road. When she’d fallen to the ground in

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243 screaming, crying agony, the grass had claimed her jeans, with tracks of grass stains on either knee, which she had never been able to wash out. She turned her eyes carefully from that play equipment as the children returned to being children, and the swings resumed swinging, and her memory of that day slowly receded. Elena stared instead at the ants that were marching one by one across the side street, near their ankles. ‘I could never have gotten away with what I did over in New Zealand. None of you would have let me.’ ‘We’re all going through our own pain.’ ‘Still? Even now? You all seem to be okay on the outside.’ Xavier’s lips clamped together, and Elena wished she hadn’t pushed so far with this. The last thing she wanted from him was to watch him as he clammed up and refused to talk to her any further on this, or any other, subject. ‘It hasn’t even been three months yet. Not like it’s a distant event.’ Elena had nothing she could say in the face of that bitter response. Xavier had lost his best friend in that hit and run. Maybe he could have more easily survived the death of Eileen. Elena didn’t know what she would have done if death had claimed Jessica instead. For a moment, she had nothing to respond with. Xavier pulled in a breath, seeming to drag himself back, similar

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to the way Elena had done before. His jaw clenched and unclenched under Elena’s gaze, though she tried to keep her eyes on those ants, so as to give him some space. She still hadn’t managed to see Eileen yet since she’d returned to Melbourne. It seemed Eileen, too, had found a release in burying herself in her work. ‘I miss him.’ It was a simple statement. Not an apology for her thoughtless remarks earlier. Not even something that expected a response. It was simply a statement of fact. Elena still missed Sam. ‘I know. Me too.’ The two of them sat side by side, close but not touching, unable to breach the distance, unannounced, between two people whose only common thread lay with a ghost, six feet under.

50. Mike was home when Elena stood on the front step and picked up the knocker to knock against the front door. She heard his steps down the stained wood hallway before they stopped, and then the door was opened to her. ‘How was your last couple of days?’ The question was mildly asked and Elena nodded her head, shyly walking in before looking up at him with a faintly smiling expression. She invited him to smile back with her eyes and he did so, relaxing an arm around her back as she shuffled back towards his bedroom. ‘How’re you doing?’

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‘Okay. Better, I think. It was good spending time outside of here. I ended up visiting mum at the doctor’s clinic.’ She’d ended up staying one night at her mother’s house after visiting her at work. That night had been hard, once she’d been left to her own devices, after her mother kissed her goodnight and went to bed. Elena had stared at a reflection of herself, long and hard, in the mirror in her old room, and didn’t like what she saw. ‘That’s good. How is she?’ ‘She’s good. Worried about me.’ Elena had found herself on the internet late at night, desperately hoping someone else might be online to talk to her. In the end, she had written an email, addressed to Jessica, to Stephanie, and to Del. I stuffed up. Okay? I know it. Again and again, and now there’s nothing left but rubble. And now my heart is pounding and things are happening and I ... I want help. I want to be better. Please. This isn’t even about Sam anymore. It hasn’t been for a while. It ’s because I don’t know how to stop what I started. And I can stop caring that I can’t stop if I just shut down my feelings, but you guys won’t stop caring and I... I don’t want to hurt you all anymore.

I’m so scared. I don’t ... I know it ’s going to be so hard to come back from everything I’ve done. To look any of you

247 in the eye. To... I’m not playing a game here, not that I would blame you for thinking it.

I don’t want to send this, you know? Because if I do, then I just go back, I’m never going to get any of you to believe my words ever again. And maybe that ’s why I need to get up the courage to send this and stop just staring at it. Can’t we just go back to the start again, where I’m just a girl who’s about to move over to New Zealand? Someone you don’t all hate? Can we do that? Is that allowed?

‘I asked mum for anti-depressants.’ ‘Really. And she said?’ They were back inside Mike’s room and Mike carefully closed the door behind them. A fan was up on one of his dressers and spinning around the air in his room, on the highest setting. Elena planted herself on the bed, not even taking her shoes off yet. She listened to the whirr of the fan and embraced the cool of it against her face and hair when it drifted towards her. ‘She said no. That I should give this some time before resorting to that.’ She sighed, bending now to take her shoes off so she wouldn’t have to look at Mike. Damnit, but she’d wanted to find the easy way into getting better.

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248 ‘Sounds reasonable.’

‘Doesn’t sound reasonable! How am I supposed to work through anything with all of these emotions clogging through my mind all the time?’ Even talking about them made Elena’s temperature rise, and she was aware of the pain, seeping through the layers to bite at her heels again. No, she couldn’t run forever, but if she stopped to see what it was all about, what was to stop it from swallowing her whole? ‘That’s not going to happen.’ Her face had changed, betraying her feelings of panic escalating. Mike came to sit beside her as he spoke to her. He sighed, plainly wishing she could see the end of this, like he could. She looked at him, striving to reach that hope she found in his eyes as he took her hands gently in his and continued. ‘It won’t always be this way. It’ll get better. You need to let yourself grieve.’ ‘I’m tired of grieving. I’m sick of the crying. I’m sick of not being able to function properly, and this wasn’t something that I asked for.’ She breathed heavily as she tried to dodge the emotions coming at her at full blast. Even now, she could feel the beginnings of tears wetting her eyeballs and threatening to fall onto her lap, where her hands were clasped so tightly around Mike’s that whiteness was

249 showing around her knuckles. ‘Hey… hey…’ Mike soothed her with quiet words and gentle touches, and Elena screwed up her eyes, lest one more tear be allowed an escape. In the end, she struggled to let herself relax against him. ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘What for?’ ‘For being… this. So messed up, and something you have to deal with. You shouldn’t have to deal with it.’ ‘Sweetie, if I was finding it difficult to deal, I wouldn’t have asked you to stay with me as long as you need. Okay? I don’t mind.’ Elena nodded, still sniffing, still not quite believing, but it was a start. ‘How many days till you leave again?’ ‘Three more days.’ ‘Well then, we can’t have you crying that whole time. Maybe we can focus on all the good you’ve accomplished since arriving here, instead of the bad. And, I might even have chocolate to bribe you with.’ Elena couldn’t help but laugh, though it sounded more like a gurgle stuck deep in the back of her throat, from the tears that were still lingering there. She ducked her head in embarrassment into Mike’s chest and he held her there, laughing with her. When she lifted her

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head again, he ducked down to sneak a kiss from her, before standing up and leading her to the chocolate he had bought for her, and kept in the kitchen so it wouldn’t melt.

51. ‘I shall miss you dearly when you return to your home, though I understand it is what is right. I love you. You were not a burden, not a pain. You are a friend that I cherish.’ Elena received Mike’s message as soon as she turned her mobile back on just outside of Christchurch airport. Stephanie sent her a message not long after: ‘Does this mean I get to be your friend again?’ It was the second response Elena received from her email, after Jessica’s encouragement that she had done a very brave thing. As she messaged Stephanie back, there were the first signs of willing tears in Elena’s eyes.

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On the day after she returned, she paid a visit to Brendan’s home with trepidation. He saw her passing the front windows of his house and excused himself to his parents, before greeting her outside on the front porch. For moments, the two of them just stared at each other. He didn’t know what to say, not after the last time he had tried. She had left him with the impression that his efforts were without effect. Quite unexpectedly, Elena’s lips turned up into a tremulous smile, while she had aimed for a bright manner. ‘I’m back.’ Brendan blinked. He held his breath and scarcely let himself believe. Elena grew uncomfortable, thinking that she had left it too late, that she had, after all, pushed him away too far. She began to back off from his front porch, glancing briefly over one shoulder to make sure there was nothing she could fall on and further embarrass herself. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here unannounced. I’ll see you later; I didn’t mean to intrude.’ Brendan reached forward and clove unto her. He was at least a head taller than her and his arms wrapped around her completely. ‘Don’t you even dare think of leaving again.’ Elena closed her eyes and knew he didn’t speak of her trip to Melbourne. She didn’t let her mind wander farther than their contact and the fresh smell of his aftershave for those brief moments.

253 Eventually, he had to let go of her. His mother was attempting not to stare through the window at them. She obviously believed it had been a lovers’ spat between them, one that they were currently patching up. From Elena’s mouth emitted a burst of nervous laughter. ‘Come on, let’s walk somewhere.’ They did, hardly talking, mostly smiling, and Elena did not even mind about the sun that beat down on them until they found a shaded park with a comfortable bench surrounded by jasmine flowers and sweet smelling trees. Brendan took her hands in his and stared at her, really stared into her. ‘You really are back, aren’t you?’ Elena nodded, not daring to let herself speak. Brendan breathed out, a sound of pure stress relief. ‘Oh, thank god!’ ‘Come on! I wasn’t that bad!’ The look Brendan shot her said that she had been that bad, and worse. Elena ducked her head in shame, knowing what he didn’t say to be exactly true. Still, their hands were linked, and he didn’t appear to be holding anything against her. Elena couldn’t express the sense of liberation that granted her. ‘You never gave up on me.’ ‘I could see you wanted to be saved.’

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254 ‘Liar.’

Elena paused, jutting her shoulder against his playfully, then looked at him more seriously again. ‘Thank you. For everything. So much.’ The sound of suggestive murmuring and emerging wolf whistles from a group of guys having a barbeque in the park drew their attention and, laughing, Elena and Brendan pulled their hands away from each other. ‘Nice to know our show was worthy of a crowd.’ ‘Shall we find somewhere else to linger for a while?’ ‘Please.’

52. There months after Sam died, Elena sat in the dark of her bedroom, pondering the message that had just come through on her mobile from Del. It was not unexpected. Stephanie and Brendan were sure to have spoken of Elena’s change since returning from Melbourne. Yet Elena viewed it with ominous eyes. She did not know whether to jump for joy at the contact or jump through the window and not actually be made to reply to Del’s few words, just in case the end result was not everything she hoped for. ‘We need to meet.’ It was not the most warm of messages, but it was an olive branch,

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one that Del had extended, and after everything Elena had put her through, the least she could do was respond. With shaking fingers, the most she could get out was a simple: ‘Yes.’ The reply came through almost immediately: ‘I thought you weren’t going to reply. Can we meet somewhere in town tomorrow?’ Elena chewed her lip at the question and her thumb hovered over the reply screen. ‘Tomorrow could be hard around work. Possibly tonight? Buses are convenient.’ She sat almost on top of her phone as she waited for the reply to that message to come through. She almost cried out in relief when it did, and Nathaniel picked up on her excitement enough to put his head through her door and look at her curiously, albeit looking as though he half expected her to bite his head off for trying. ‘Everything all right in here?’ ‘Everything’s fine! Del just asked if she could meet me!’ ‘Oh. That’s good. I’m glad that you’re getting those friendships back again.’ He nodded in acceptance of her, the first positive sign she had earned from him for too many weeks. Del and Stephanie were far from the only people to whom she would need to make up for her past actions. She made plans to talk to Janet, the next time her flat-mate was

257 home from nightshifts at her work, during the same periods that Elena was there. ‘Now works even better. I’m leaving now.’ Elena shuffled in discomfort on the bus ride to meeting Del. Tone had been impossible to gauge through the brief contact they had prior to her leaving. Del could do anything when she arrived. She could slap her face in the middle of the orange-lit bus shelter. She could do much worse. In actual fact, Del did none of these things. Elena stepped off of the bus slowly, relinquishing her tight hold on the pole as the bus came to a stop. She thanked the driver, as was her habit, which deliberately shifted her gaze back into the bus, away from where she had already caught sight of the shock of long red hair, bursting from under the black hat Del was wearing. As her feet touched the ground, she was allowed one step away from the bus before she was taken into a suffocating hug that Elena could not find fault in. She had all but told herself she might never get to see this girl again. Del’s body shook against hers with many tears. Elena smoothed her hands over Del’s back, her own body convulsing with dry sobs. ‘Oh god, I’ve missed you so much.’ Del looked up into Elena’s face, her own completely tear-streaked,

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and traces of mascara followed the lines of those tears. Elena wanted to reach out and touch them with light fingers, but then the first wave of actual tears soaked formerly dry eyes. ‘I don’t deserve this.’ Indeed, Elena was overwhelmed by how little she deserved her friends back. Del had clung to Elena again, so their words were slightly muffled, but still understood between them. Del started to apologize. ‘No! Don’t do that! Don’t take the blame. Not for any of this.’ Del’s eyes were wide and sad. ‘If I had have seen something earlier… I asked myself so many times if I just missed something, and could have helped you when you were asking for it…’ Their tears were intermingling on the sides of their faces, on the surfaces of their clothes. Elena had thought she had cried enough and Del probably thought the same, but clearly there were still more in reserve, for this reunion. Coming apart, the girls kept in physical contact through their clasped hands. Elena found it difficult to look Del in the eye. Del leaned across to kiss her tenderly on the forehead—exactly like the last day Elena had traveled to Del’s house—and Elena’s eyes opened wider. ‘How? Why… how?’ Elena was completely confounded and highly emotional. Del swept

259 a tear that fell away from Elena’s cheek and looked at her kindly. ‘One question at a time, hon. How what?’ ‘How is all this possible? How can you even look at me after what I did with… Why now? Why here? Why any of this?’ ‘Because I love you.’ To Del, it was as simple as that, and they continued walking while Elena’s mind spun in silent circles. There was no strength in Elena’s next words. She sounded tired, worn. ‘I tried so hard, so very hard, to push you all away.’ ‘You did. But we… or I at least, still love you. Just as much. Maybe not trust.’ Elena barked out a harsh laugh. ‘Oh, right now, even I don’t really trust me. I certainly don’t blame you. How do you know I won’t do the exact same thing again?’ ‘I don’t. But I love you. More than I ever hated you. I tried to. It hurt not to be able to see you, to touch you, to know anything about you.’ ‘Me too. I kept on raging, but the whole time, all I wanted was you.’ Del gave a little smile. She ducked her head and her hand slipped gently out of Elena’s. Elena looked at Del oddly, for they were near Del’s house now. ‘I think you answered your own question. Why here and now?

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Because you needed it. And so did I. It won’t hurt me if I don’t see you now.’ Elena gasped as the barb struck home. She forced herself not to react or betray anything other than that she was fine. Del’s eyes turned away. She didn’t look at Elena, instead, turning on her heel and returning home to where Stephanie waited for her. Elena was left to return alone home, new tears pricking the edges of her eyes.

53. ‘So many people wanted to help me. They were all reaching out and begging me to come back. And all I could think was: how stupid of them, why would they even bother trying to stay close to someone who hurt them? Now I try to come back, but I’ve pushed them too far. They won’t forgive me for what I did. Why should they?’ Brendan looked at her patiently. They sat on a couple of large, grey volcanic rocks. Brendan had run out of sticks and stones to throw into the river before them. A trio of ducks had just swum past, so he was loathe to accidentally hit one of them, anyway. The leaves of the trees hung over them, and other than the voices, the only sounds around

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them were water trickling and wind rushing through the willow branches. When Elena was done speaking, it took a while for Brendan to react. She looked up at him and he looked back at her ruefully. ‘Are you finished with your self-pitying diatribe? Yes, you did a lot of damage, ‘Lena. They were good to you before, because that’s what you needed to come back. But now they don’t have to worry about you. They can indulge in the luxury of being angry at you. Can you blame Delilah for what she said?’ Elena breathed out harshly, and her whole body seemed to become smaller because of it. ‘No. In fact, it was no more than I was expecting. But she was so nice at first.’ ‘And she probably meant it.’ ‘It’s been a week since then, Brendan. Even Stephanie’s made no effort to contact me since then. It’s like, they waited for me to say sorry and now cut me off.’ ‘I’d like to refer you back to my earlier comment.’ ‘But what’s the point in any of it then? If I can’t atone for it—I certainly can’t take any of it back—what am I supposed to do?’ ‘Be patient. Wait for the others to work through their anger. This isn’t about you anymore, it’s about them. They love you, Elena. Del even

263 said so.’ Elena smirked, her gaze turning suddenly mischievous in her old spirit of jest. ‘Timoth doesn’t.’ ‘Timoth doesn’t count. The only thing you wanted from him was sex, so why should his regard towards you matter?’ Brendan’s expression was arch, as was his brow, and his words were straight-forward and honest. Elena couldn’t fault him that. He was exactly right. Forgiveness depended on the silent willingness to forget. Timoth would never have that willingness for her. ‘So that’s your advice, then? Just wait.’ ‘I think so, yes.’ Elena sighed heavily. He was right. She could admit that now. ‘I do feel better about myself now, though; aiming to fix things rather than to wreck them.’ ‘I thought you might.’ ‘You’re just a great big know it all, aren’t you?’ ‘I am what I am.’ Elena smiled at him, a very real smile. Mike wrote to her that night to hope she had gotten back to her home safely and rested. He apologized that he’d been to busy to email her but was also gratified when she told him of her active steps in

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trying to make things better. Elena thought more and more of the open approval Jessica had stated of her and Mike. She’d missed him while he hadn’t been coming onto the internet to speak to her. She’d given thought to what that might mean. I’m scared. So scared. I don’t need to be in a relationship, tied down to someone who will say they love me and then just die on me. What if you say you love me now and then hurt me when I love you back and I just lose you utterly?

Your friendship means so much to me. You’ve come to mean so much to me. Maybe we wouldn’t work in a ‘conventional relationship’, with me over here, and you over there, but what ’s a conventional relationship anyway? Maybe someday…?

Mike welcomed her opening up to him on this, and offered to call her from where he was in Melbourne. Elena didn’t refuse him. She sat anxiously, awaiting his call; hoping she’d gotten the international coding right. ‘Hello? Elena? Is that you?’ ‘It’s me. Hi sweetie.’ ‘Hi yourself. You seem happier.’ ‘Really?’ After crossing her room to push closed the door, she smoothed down her hair while sitting on her bed, even though he couldn’t see it.

265 ‘Have things over there been okay for you?’ ‘They’re getting better now. I’ve started patching things up.’ ‘It’s good to hear you’re bringing things back to normal.’ Elena nodded, though again, he couldn’t see. There was silence over the line for a little moment. ‘Elena, I can’t talk for a long time. You wrote that I mean a lot to you.’ ‘You do. Quite a lot.’ There. The words were out; the admission made. She could not take them back now, whether she even wanted to try. ‘That’s… good, Elena, thank you.’ ‘You don’t need to thank me. I’ve certainly kept you waiting long enough.’ ‘I’d rather wait and hear it truthfully than have you say it false and immediate.’ Elena smiled. He was poetic. She liked that about him. ‘Oh, this is cruel. Now I have your voice and I want to curl up in your arms, but I can’t.’ Mike chuckled over the line. ‘You’ll get your chance soon enough, no doubt. I love you.’ ‘I love you more…’ Elena paused.

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266 ‘I love you… Mike.’

54. ‘Get in. I’ve got a surprise for you.’ Elena looked at Brendan oddly as he parked outside of her house. She had been waiting for him, sitting with her arms clasped around her knees and bare feet flat on the middle of the driveway to her house. When she’d seen his familiar white car pulling up near the gutter, she had stood up and scampered across the nature strip towards him. But his attitude now was strange. ‘What are you holding back from me?’ ‘You’ll see. Now come on, stop being a prude. Where’s your sense of adventure?’

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Elena raised her eyebrow at Brendan devilishly for that. Those sentences coming from him were rich! Brendan shrugged and looked at his hands, still resting on the steering wheel. ‘Come on, are you coming or not? We don’t exactly have all afternoon.’ Sighing, she realized that when Brendan made up his mind about something, he was just as stubborn as her. She got into the car. Pulling the door closed behind her and reaching back for the seatbelt to strap her into the car, Elena curled bare feet up onto the car seat with her and crossed her legs. She glanced across the car at him, waiting. ‘Okay then, let’s go.’ Brendan turned the key in the ignition. His car pulled away gracefully from the curb and Elena twiddled her fingers until the directions he turned in started to give away where they were going to. ‘Brendan… what are you doing?’ ‘Don’t worry, nothing bad’ll happen.’ ‘Brendan, are you taking me to the girls’ house?’ The look on his face as she asked the direct question gave him away, even if he didn’t pause a moment to look away from the road. Elena’s eyes opened wide and she stared forward for a moment before turning side on and facing Brendan again. ‘What are you doing? They aren’t going to want to see me.’

269 ‘Maybe they’ll surprise you.’ Elena doubted it. And she really didn’t feel like being put down by their distrust of her right now either. She’d been having a relatively good day up till now. Her mood shifted and she looked out of the window to hide the tenseness she felt all the way up to the point when Brendan pulled into the girls’ driveway and she couldn’t look anywhere without seeing house, front yard or side fence. She sighed in resignation as she saw Stephanie open the French doors and smile at the arriving car, calling back into the house. ‘They’re here!’ Stephanie came out of the front door and headed in a bee-line towards the car. Brendan was already stepping out. Elena took a deep breath and followed suit, quite expecting to be forgotten on her side of the car next to the shrubs that grew along the line of the fence. Stephanie was in Brendan’s arms and he was hugging her closely. He bent his head down and it looked like his lips brushed her temple. Then Stephanie pulled herself away from Brendan with a fond smile and looked pleasantly towards Elena. Elena forced herself not to bat at a vine that had unfurled about two centimeters from her face. ‘We didn’t know if you would come.’ It sounded very similar to the message Del had sent her before they

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had met at the bus stop. Now Del was exiting the house and locking the French doors behind her. Elena didn’t let herself glance up that way; instead she focused on Stephanie, as the taller brunette ventured towards her. Surprisingly to Elena, when Stephanie got close enough to her, she reached out to draw her into a hug. Elena closed her eyes and hugged, and let herself be hugged. After a moment, Stephanie looked down at her with soft, brown eyes. ‘It’s good to have you back, sweetheart.’ Elena nodded back, her emotions too high to let her actually pass any words out. Del was directing quick glances her way while she talked to Brendan. ‘Come on, we don’t really have all that much room to move over here.’ Stephanie directed Elena out of the little burrow between car and fence that she had been happy to hide herself in. Del and Brendan came to the end of their conversation as Stephanie and Elena approached, and Brendan was looking decidedly smug. ‘Told you they might surprise you.’ Del cautiously put her arm into the crook of Elena’s. Elena didn’t say anything but her expression was shocked, as though she could not believe this could happen.

271 ‘How about we sit in the backseat and talk, while Stephanie gets the front this time?’ ‘Um… okay…?’ As Elena crept into the far side of the backseat of the car, Stephanie reached her arm backwards and took Elena’s hand in hers. Once Del and Brendan were safely inside the car, and belted in, Brendan started to reverse. ‘Where to, ladies?’ ‘A park!’ It was a nice day and Brendan drove them towards a park at the base of the hills that bordered Christchurch city. Elena was half tuning into the conversation being had between Stephanie and Brendan when Del’s hand clenched around her own and drew her attention. Del was leaning close and Elena heard quietly spoken, clear words in her right ear. ‘I trust you.’ Elena’s head started up toward Del’s, her eyes clouded with confusion, and Del’s words infusing her whole world so thoroughly that she found it hard to believe Stephanie and Brendan’s conversation continued on, uninterrupted by the words they hadn’t heard. She looked from the front seat back to Del. ‘When?’

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Del just shrugged. Her hand stayed in Elena’s, but she called out a response to a comment Brendan made. Even in her shock, Elena noticed Stephanie gazing at her through the left hand mirror. She winked at her. ‘Don’t you think so, Elena?’ Elena blinked up at Brendan, totally oblivious of what had just been said. ‘Oh yes, completely.’ She paused. ‘What am I agreeing to here?’ ‘Oh, we were just saying we really think you should sell your liver in penance for what you put all of us through. You know, that would also mean you couldn’t drink the obscene amounts that lead to such compromising situations.’ Brendan looked at her sagely through the rearview mirror, as though his reasoning was completely logical. Stephanie snorted with laughter in the front seat. Del grinned beside her, nodding her head and raising her eyebrows. Elena scoffed and rolled her eyes. ‘Not bloody likely!’