Page 25 of Crashing Into You

I met Sal and Joss years ago, when I was an awkward teenager visiting the coast for the summer. I went to a music show at the surf club by myself, hoping I might meet someone. They spotted me standing in a corner and came over. I’d been a bit taken aback at first, not sure whether they wanted to start something with me, but it turned out they wanted to bring me onto the dance floor with them. We’ve been friends ever since, catching up every summer holidays or meeting in Melbourne. After my parents’ accident they were there for me, supporting me as I moved into the beach house, giving me the space I needed to grieve, while letting me know they were there for whatever I needed. And of course, they helped me get away from Simon. I genuinely don’t know what I would do without them.

Sal works as a legal assistant in Geelong, about an hour’s drive away, while Joss is a junior pharmacist at the local pharmacy. I feel bad, sometimes, about my job at Anna’s. Feel as though I should be doing more with my life. Retail is a tough gig, don’t get me wrong, and Anna has been very generous to me. I love fashion, too, so it suits me. But I never went back to university; I was too broken for the first year after my parents died, and after that I was with Simon, who never seemed to see any value in me going back to my studies, despite the fact he liked to pretend he was an intellectual. I still can’t believe I spent over a year with him, listening to his nonsense.

“What will you do when he goes back on the circuit? Will you travel with him? Maybe you can finally pursue that travel-writing dream of yours.”

I realise Sal is asking me about Bryce. Shit. “Um, I guess we haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“You should! This is a perfect opportunity, Claire-bear.” Joss looks serious for a moment. “You need to remember your dreams as well, you know?”

“Yeah. This house is lovely, but maybe it’s time to see the world. Follow your dreams.” Sal waves her arm in the air like a presenter on a game show.

“Or even just create content! Bryce goes to some amazing places. You’ll never be short of stuff to film.”

I stare at them both, my heart full at the love in their faces, their voices. I hate that I’m lying to them. Hate it so much. I also hate the fact that Bryce and I will be over in a month’s time, and the lovely image they’re painting of a life where I get to travel and work at what I love will never come to pass. Unless I do it by myself, of course. Why the hell shouldn’t I, actually? Maybe this month with Bryce will be what I need to kickstart my life in a new direction. I should look at going back to school, too.

“Are you all right? You look stunned.” Sal tops up my wineglass.

“I think… It’s been a lot. Itisa lot.”

“I get that,” Joss says, putting her hand on mine. “But you need to promise us something.”

She’s so serious I’m alarmed. “Of course! What is it?”

“Just don’t forget us, when you go.”

“I’m not going anywhere yet! And I could never forget either of you. I couldn’t do half of what I do without you both.”

“And when you finally do shag him, we need to know about it!” Sal shrieks, setting us off giggling again. “Jesus, Claire, if you’re going to hold out for anyone, you could do a lot worse for a first time.”

“You almost did!” Joss splutters into her wine.

“I cannot tell you how glad I am that I didn’t,” I say, still laughing. But there’s a deeper throbbing in me, a fluttering flock of butterflies at the thought of what it could be like, if he was my first. What those abs would look like, how they would feel. Howhewould feel.

Sal’s right. I could do a lot worse.

Bryce

It’s good to be out of Melbourne, heading to the coast again. The sun is low in the sky, the air warm, as I head through Torquay for the Great Ocean Road.

I have to come back here because I’m working tomorrow. Claire and I will be having our first official couple outing, plus I need to make nice with the crew at Ocean’s Curl. It won’t be hard to do. I genuinely love representing the brand. Myles Brandon, who owns it, is pretty cool too, and not a bad surfer either. He’s also passionate about the environment, making sure every aspect of the business is as ethical as it can be, investing in wind and solar power, land regeneration projects and sustainable design. Yeah, not a bad crew at all. The least I can do is show up and make sure they know I’m not a complete fuck-up. And having Claire with me will make it all the sweeter.

The views open out, the sea to the left of me, the road curving in and out past rocky points where the surf breaks like a dream, past houses set back in the trees, rising and falling with the land. I pass the gates to Claire’s place, and for a moment think of dropping in to see her, like I would if we were really dating, to sit on her deck with her and watch the sun set together. The urge is so strong I slow down, but I know I have to keep going. We’ve set some boundaries already, but I get the sense her home is sacred. I don’t want to go there unless she invites me, at least not with things as they are now.

But then how do I want things to be? I’m still pondering the question as I eventually pull into Kylie and Matt’s driveway, Lorne sparkling below me. Matt comes out to greet me, clapping me on the shoulder.

“How are things?”

I know he’s not just asking about Melbourne. He was there when we pulled Millie out of the darkness.

“They’re okay. She’s good, man. We went to Luna Park yesterday, just like old times.” I show him the photo I took.

“Sweet,” he says, nodding. “Come on in. Kylie’s got the dinner going.”

I follow him inside. He and Kylie bought their house years ago, when things were more affordable. I thought it was a huge amount of money and responsibility at the time, but now I think he’s a financial genius, the place worth four times what they paid for it. They lived in the little old fibro house for a while, until they could afford to knock it down and rebuild. The new place is an airy space of timber and glass, framing the sky and gum trees and views. I still sometimes miss the old house though, the yellow kitchen cupboards and creaking floorboards, the little bedroom where I used to crash whenever I was here.

Kylie is setting out bowls on the big kitchen island when I walk in, and there’s a fantastic smell of garlic and tomatoes and herbs. “Bryce,” she says with a grin. “Hope you’re hungry.”

“Always,” I say, going over and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “But you need to get this husband of yours cooking too once in a while, you know.”