The Last Days of Us Read online

  ‘Home’ —GRAY

  Having never had a surf lesson, or any interest in having one, to be honest, I’m not sure what to expect. Definitely some one-on-one touching, long looks and hot moments. A beach movie fantasy.

  What I get is a bit different.

  ‘Watch what I do,’ he yells over his shoulder as he runs towards the water, board in his hands.

  I stand there, arms hanging by my sides, feeling a lot like a deflated beach ball. ‘Okay.’

  He doesn’t notice my lack of enthusiasm as he jogs through the shallows before easing himself onto his board in one smooth motion.

  I spread out my towel and settle in. This, I’ve done before. Back when we started dating I’d go to watch him surf, but pretty soon I was bored out of my brain. Not wanting to bail on him completely—after all, we were in lurve—I’d surreptitiously text Cass and get her to join me. Once she arrived, I’d pretty much forget Finn existed as we swam and soaked up the sun. We’d share our plans for any upcoming musical theatre shows and help each other rehearse.

  I’m guessing that won’t work now.

  But sitting on the sand and watching gets boring pretty fast. Not to mention hot. Even though I’m pretty sure I put on sunscreen earlier, my shoulders are beginning to turn an alarming shade of pink.

  I dig through my bag to find the tube I’m sure I stashed in there. It’s nearly empty, but I coax a decent-sized blob onto my palm. I open a compact and look at my distorted reflection in the tiny mirror. I’m so used to seeing a girl with dark smudges and sad eyes, it takes a few seconds to recognise the tanned bright girl before me.

  The girl in the mirror looks a lot like the old me.

  Get off your butt and do something. The sun is shining, the water’s sparkling, stop being lame.

  It’s my brother’s voice I hear in my head. He never liked fangirls, those simpering idiots more interested in looking good than having fun. He met Shivani when she beat him through one of those mud-covered obstacle course events.

  But this is what Finn wants now.

  And I want Finn.

  Avoiding my gaze, I apply small dots of the sunscreen to my skin, trying to make sure I don’t miss a spot. I do not want to go to Gray’s concert with a red nose. It’s not the first time I’ve avoided the girl in the mirror. Who wants to see some pasty chick with the dregs of last night’s make-up and unbridled agony staring back?

  ‘Need a hand?’

  I lift my head as though I need to check who’s speaking, even though Luc’s smooth voice is unmistakable. He’s wearing only black board shorts and his sunnies, and he’s carrying a board under his arm. I swear the temperature rises by at least five degrees.

  And here I am with white spots all over my face. I drop the compact and rub the sunscreen in fast. I’m thinking about his question and the dangers of Luc’s touch, and wanting things I shouldn’t. I force a refusal to my lips. ‘I think I’m okay.’

  He doesn’t reply straight away. Jolie walks past without looking our way and goes to join in with the Frisbee gang.

  It’s impossible to tell, thanks to his sunglasses, but I tingle as though Luc’s gaze is sweeping over my entire body. He reaches out and brushes his thumb down my cheek, making me suck in air fast. Sunscreen, I remind myself. He’s rubbing in some sunscreen. He’s not touching me for the sake of it. Even though the fact that I desperately want him to is probably written all over my face.

  ‘Your face is all good, but I think your back might need some attention.’

  My back? I lick my suddenly dry lips and taste sunscreen. I should say no. For self-preservation, if nothing else.

  But I open my mouth and whisper, ‘Um, ok. I mean, that would be great.’

  I wince inwardly. Witty, Zoey. I don’t know how this guy can both reduce me to a mumbling fool and get me to open up about stuff I couldn’t even imagine saying out loud.

  He puts his board down, then takes the tube and squeezes some sunscreen into his hand. Heart racing, I turn and lift my hair from my shoulders. Every nerve prickles as I wait for his touch. All I can hear is my own breath, stuttering in and out as I wait.

  Just do it already.

  I should move away now, tell him I’m fine and try to catch Finn’s attention. He’s the one who should be doing this. Maybe I haven’t changed at all. Maybe I’m still just looking for the next chance at oblivion. Maybe I’m not so different to the slut Cass accused me of being.

  Too late.

  Cool and gentle, his hands touch my shoulders. I bite down on my lip to stop the sigh escaping. The tension seeps from my bones as he spreads the sunscreen over my skin and I relax against his hands.

  ‘Look out!’

  I open my eyes just in time to see Jolie fly past, kicking up sand as she cannons straight into her brother. I turn to see them sprawled on the ground. The Frisbee she was chasing lies a few feet away.

  I blink. In fact, it’s more like a dozen feet.

  Luc realises at the same time. His eyes narrow as he jumps to his feet and lifts his petite sister high in the air. She’s laughing while squealing her innocence, but he’s not listening.

  ‘You want to take a swim?’ he asks, stalking towards the water. He’s holding her without difficulty, despite her fists thumping hard against his back. Her slender figure, so tiny in his arms, shows each of her ribs.

  ‘Let me down,’ she cries.

  His mouth curves into a grin. ‘Happy to.’

  She’s dangling above the water trying hard not to laugh. ‘Not here!’

  I follow them to the water’s edge. Even as I laugh, I prickle with envy that they have each other. I want to tell them to appreciate it but stop myself. I don’t want to be the one to cast a shadow on the fun.

  Luc holds Jolie above the waves. ‘You ready to apologise?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she begins, then grins. ‘Sorry you’re such a loser.’

  He jerks his hands like he’s about to drop her and she squeals again. ‘Last chance,’ he growls.

  ‘You wouldn’t,’ she says, but her eyes are shining with something more than the fun of the moment.

  He seems to consider and then nods. ‘I think I would.’

  ‘I’m not sorry,’ she shouts. ‘I’m not sorry. I’m not—aargghh . . .’

  She lands in the knee-deep water, still smiling, and attempts to hook his leg and drag him down with her. But he’s too quick, and wades out beyond her reach, then dives into the clear blue sea. He surfaces and flicks his hair out of his eyes.

  ‘Coming in?’ he asks.

  But it’s not Jolie he’s asking. She’s already headed back up to the sand, where she’s drying herself off.

  I’ve waded in a little way so the water laps at my calves. The long stretch of warm weather over summer means it’s cool and inviting. Not least to cool the heat in me at the sight of Luc, smiling and dripping wet.

  In answer I dive under, staying beneath the surface for as long as I can hold my breath.

  Luc is there when I come up at last.

  His face is in shadow. ‘See any of your mermaid sisters while you were down there, Ariel?’

  ‘They’re too busy preparing for father’s grand performance. It’s Triton I have to look out for.’

  He shivers in mock terror. ‘I’d better keep my distance lest the king of the sea think I’m up to no good with his most precious daughter.’

  His teasing reminds me of Finn’s first visit home. He thought Dad was the one to be afraid of. Sure, my dad frowned a little—I was still his baby girl, after all. But it was Dan who gave Finn the third degree. He even asked him if his intentions were honourable. I nearly died on the spot.

  I wonder what Dan would have thought of Luc?

  Shaking the thought away, I splash at Luc and then dive back under so he can’t retaliate. But he’s too clever, waiting to get me the moment I come up for air.

  We splash and laugh and I forget to worry or think much at all. I float on my back, closing my eyes and listeni
ng to the sound of Luc’s even breathing as he does the same. We lie like that for ages, not talking. Occasionally his fingertips bump into mine, but the contact is fleeting.

  I let myself be.

  No plan, no goal, just floating in the sunshine. A gust of wind ripples the water, making miniature waves.

  Waves. Finn.

  I jerk upright and scan the break for his familiar shape, trying to shake off my guilt at having completely forgotten about him. It’s not like he’s my boyfriend or anything.

  I turn back towards the sand and meet Luc’s questioning gaze. ‘Find what you were looking for?’

  I want to tell him it’s not what he thinks, but the easy lies I got used to telling after Daniel died don’t come as readily anymore. Besides, it’s too late. He knows.

  The sun’s beating down overhead but that’s not the cause of my red face.

  Luc jerks his head. ‘I think he was calling you.’

  I glance over at Finn, paddling out, not even looking this way, and then frown at Luc. ‘Really?’

  ‘No.’

  He shakes his head and strokes through the water, his muscles gleaming in the sunshine, all easy power and bronzed skin.

  Not once does he look back.

  I try to float again but that sense of peace is gone. Instead, the sun is too hot and the waves are splashing into my mouth. I spit out the salty water and debate swimming out towards Finn and the lesson he promised.

  ‘Zoey?’ Jolie’s waving at me from the shore. ‘Want to help?’

  Luc is there with her but he’s not calling me. He’s focused on the ground with an intensity that tells me he’s not thrilled with his sister’s invitation.

  ‘With what?’

  ‘You’ll see.’

  I wade out of the water and pick up my towel before making my way over. Jolie lifts her head as I approach and grins. She’s pretty much covered with damp sand. ‘We’re making a sandcastle.’

  ‘Sand sculpture,’ Luc corrects, without looking up.

  An ache flares inside me. Does that mean he’s jealous about me and Finn? Or does he just think I’m scum because I’m interested in my best friend’s boyfriend?

  He couldn’t think any less of me than they do.

  Hanging around here is only going to annoy him and make me feel worse. I should go back to the campsite and read a book or something. Except what they’re doing tugs at my childhood memories. ‘I haven’t built a sandcastle since I was a kid.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ says Jolie, patting the sand beside her. ‘Luc’s an expert. Anything you need to know you can ask him. Just don’t let him bore you with the historical significance of the building we’re honouring with our representation.’ She rolls her eyes.

  As I drop to my knees on the sand, I laugh, but I know I wouldn’t find that boring. Not because I have a sudden interest in architecture, but because when someone talks about something with genuine passion, they’re so alive it’s impossible not to get caught up.

  Luc doesn’t talk though, and it’s Jolie’s instructions I follow as she describes their plans for the back wall of the multi-moat structure. The incoming tide is teasing at the edges of the tunnels she’s digging to coax the water our way.

  I get into a rhythm. Slurp the wet sand from the hole closer to the water, dump it on the pile, smooth it out. Then slurp again.

  Daniel and I never really got into sandcastles. The age difference was too big, I guess. When he was keen I was a toddling ball of destruction, and by the time I wanted to make something grand, he was too busy playing it cool for the bikini-clad beach babes who didn’t notice him at all.

  It’s nice to pretend, though. Nice to imagine that I might have tagged along when he and Shivani took little Danny to the beach. That I wouldn’t have been so consumed by my teenage drama that I could have made some happy memories with my nephew.

  It hits me like one of the big waves crashing against the rocks out on the point, that I can’t remember the last time I saw little Danny. I rock back on my heels.

  I don’t even know what my nephew looks like.

  My eyes close and my hands clench tight.

  ‘Not like that,’ Luc says.

  I open my eyes and see that I’ve destroyed the section I was working on. I look up at Luc.

  ‘I wasn’t really thinking about the building,’ I say. ‘Not that this isn’t fun,’ I add, but he’s not offended.

  Instead, he leans over. Placing his hands over mine, he shows me how to mould the sand so it’s more of a wall and less of a blob. And when he pulls away it’s probably better, but to be honest, I’m more aware of the roughness of his sand-covered hand and the way his irritation from earlier is gone.

  Following his example, I collect the unbroken shells from nearby and line the top of the walls with them. Well, mostly unbroken.

  ‘What’s this?’ he says with a smile, pointing at a pretty pink fan shell with a big crack through the middle.

  I shrug. ‘It’s pretty.’

  He looks at me long and hard but doesn’t say anything.

  Realising I’m staring, I point to a spot just below his cheekbone. ‘You have some sand on your jaw.’

  ‘Here?’ He swipes the back of his hand across his face, adding a lot more sand than he removes.

  I can’t help a smile. ‘Everywhere.’

  I lean forward—whether to help or to distribute more sand, I haven’t decided—when Jolie’s laughter breaks the moment.

  She races up the sand towards us, a wave following at her heels, clapping as the tunnel she’s made channels the water to fill the moats. The first few splashes wet the sand around the building before draining away.

  ‘It’s working,’ she cries.

  Luc’s on his feet and they high-five.

  I stand and Jolie grasps my arm and when the next waves rolls in, filling the moat, I’m caught up in their dance of celebration. It’s like we’ve built something magical and it doesn’t matter that by tomorrow it will all be washed away, because we’ll remember.

  * * *

  It’s getting late by the time we finish up at the beach. Tired of subsisting on lollies and muesli bars, we agree to go into a nearby town for dinner. Despite Luc’s earlier prediction it’s still warm, and there’s more blue sky than not.

  I tie my hair back and change into a long floral skirt and a black tank top, taking the time for lip gloss and eyeliner. I can’t remember the last time I wore so little make-up for so many days in a row, but after this afternoon, when Finn didn’t even notice I’d stopped watching him, there doesn’t seem much point in trying to cover up my red nose or tired eyes.

  And Luc doesn’t seem the make-up type.

  I push the thought aside, but it’s hard not to be aware of Luc when he’s sitting beside me in the van. He’s changed too. He looked hot on the beach, but now he’s incredible. He’s dressed simply. His white T-shirt has a black and white picture of a camera on it and his jeans are a well-faded blue. But combined with hair still damp from his last swim and the stubble from the last few days, the effect is hard to ignore.

  His gaze meets mine and I realise I’m staring again.

  ‘Is that the turn-off?’ I ask, pointing past him to the sign at the next corner.

  ‘Yes,’ he says. He leans closer, the amusement in his eyes confirming that he caught me out. ‘You can look at me anytime, you know. You don’t need an excuse.’

  I make sure to stare straight ahead after that.

  When we get to the town, we park on the main street and go for a wander.

  ‘Looks like it’s either the pub, or we donate an organ so we can afford to eat,’ announces Finn when we’ve peered at every menu we can find.

  He’s right. The cafes and restaurants must be catering for a different sort of traveller.

  ‘The pub it is,’ says Jolie brightly.

  Luc doesn’t look happy, but he doesn’t argue as we head inside the old stone building and through to the dining area. I imagine this was on
ce a local hangout, with clouds of cigarette smoke cloaking the low ceiling, and drunks a regular fixture at the bar. Then someone made it trendy and the tourists followed.

  It has a scraped out feel. The place has been gutted and polished up, but some of the old charm lingers. A scratched barstool here, a few ashtrays there—completely out of place, considering the no-smoking signs.

  The pub is crowded, but we find a table that can seat the five of us at a squash and settle in to examine the menu. No rip-off prices or over the top fancy fare here. My stomach rumbles.

  We order at the bar and grab drinks at the same time. I gulp my soft drink, struggling once again to make polite conversation.

  ‘I’ll get us another round,’ I say. ‘Same again?’

  Without waiting for a reply, I head over to the bar. As I wait to place my order, Luc appears at my side, like the big reveal in a bad magic trick.

  ‘Jolie sent me to help—no-one’s going to sell you booze,’ he explains, pulling out his ID.

  I glance over at Jolie and she waves, shooting me a big grin. I think she might actually raise her eyebrows suggestively, but I can’t be sure at this distance. Great, I think, she’s matchmaking. Maybe she’s trying to make up for the moment she ruined at the beach.

  I turn back to Luc. ‘And you always do as you’re told?’ I don’t know where the teasing question comes from but it hangs between us in the fumes of stale beer and the echoes of a hundred pick-up lines used in this very spot.

  I catch the twitch of his lips before I look away, but his question follows me.

  ‘Are you flirting with me, Zoey?’

  CHAPTER

  12

  Wait up for me, my love, there’s so much still to say. I’ve remembered you mean everything, I never meant to stray.

  ‘Home’—GRAY

  I will my cheeks not to colour at Luc’s accusation. ‘Flirting? I’m merely asking a question.’

  ‘In that case, it would only be polite to answer.’ He leans a little closer. ‘Sometimes.’

  His breath stirs my loose hair and I tuck it back behind my ear, hating the way his voice manages to seep through my whole body.

  The barman turns to us with almost perfect timing—well, perfect if I ignore the long, uncomfortable silence that precedes his question. And I’m pretty good at ignoring things I don’t want to acknowledge. It’s not like I haven’t had practice.