The Last Days of Us Read online

  I raise my brows. ‘I don’t need a pity draw. I’ll get you next time. I haven’t played for a while.’

  His eyes meet mine. ‘Next time then.’

  Is it my imagination, or is there a promise in his tone?

  CHAPTER

  8

  You’re haunting me again, and it’s broad daylight. With a ghost of a smile, your whisper, my sigh.

  ‘The Road’—GRAY

  Luc and I pick up our drinks from where we dropped them on the lawn. Neither of us hurries to rejoin the others. I collapse on the lawn, and it gives beneath my weight like a bright green mattress of grass. Luc drops to the ground next to me. It’s an easy silence, broken only by the faint hum of the small bugs diving and swooping in the warm air around the court lights. Each breath is loud in my ears and my heart is still racing from the game. Above, the inky sky is robbed of all but a few stars by the bright lights of the court. Luc’s elbow, the same one that was so damn irritating in the van yesterday, touches mine. There couldn’t be more than a fingerprint-sized area of contact but I’m hyper-aware of it. I’ve always hated books and movies where the heroine gets like that over some guy, but I cannot stop noticing his elbow.

  He’s here. I’m here. And for a change, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

  ‘What happened?’ Luc’s question comes out of nowhere.

  ‘You kicked my butt at basketball?’ I glance sideways.

  His mouth curves. ‘That’s true, but I was talking about earlier. I saw your face at the intersection. You were white.’

  I close my eyes against the questions in his. ‘I was hoping no-one noticed.’

  The truth is, I’d hoped Finn or Cass might have noticed, and understood. Not this guy, who seems determined to call me out at every opportunity.

  His hand touches my bare arm. Electricity sizzles in its wake and my eyes fly open as I jerk away, sitting up and wrapping my arms around my knees. He drops his hand back to his side as he sits. ‘I noticed.’

  ‘I thought you knew all about me?’

  ‘Finn said you dumped him, but beyond that . . .’

  He deserves an explanation, but I’m scared. Although Dan’s never out of my thoughts, this road trip has been a good distraction. It’s helped turn the hollowness I tried to fill with partying and strangers into more of a distant ache, instead of the all-consuming black hole I struggled against for so many months.

  If Luc would push, I could get angry, snap something sarcastic and escape. But he’s the image of patience as he slips his tank top up and uses it to wipe the sweat off his face.

  I glimpse muscled abdomen and recall the feeling of it pressed against me as I pushed off him when we played.

  I drag my gaze away. What am I thinking?

  ‘That intersection today brought back memories,’ I admit.

  ‘You were in a car accident?’ The question is gentle.

  I swallow a lump in my throat and wish the distant, argumentative Luc would come back. Him, I could handle. This one not so much.

  ‘Not me.’ I hesitate and then sigh. I’ll have to explain. It’s not like Finn or Cass couldn’t tell him if he asked. I’m surprised they haven’t already. Typical of Finn to share how I was awful to him but not why.

  ‘Around six months ago my big brother was killed in an accident . . . His name was Dan.’

  My brother’s name seems to fill the small court. How he would have loved staying here. I’m sure he would have had a basketball in little Danny’s hands before he could walk. I remember years ago sitting with Mum on the sidelines, watching Dad coach my brother’s team. Dan was the star player and I loved being there with them, fetching drinks, handing out oranges, basking in the glow of being Dan’s sister.

  He’d cheer just as loudly at my games and then at my shows, after I followed my love of singing to musical theatre. He’d tease me mercilessly at home, of course, but no-one was prouder.

  ‘You saw the crash?’

  I turn towards Luc’s question. ‘No. You probably think I’m crazy to get emotional over a near miss when I didn’t even witness my brother’s accident.’

  ‘No.’ His mouth kicks up in a half smile. ‘Not for that reason.’

  ‘But you do think I’m crazy?’ I don’t know how I manage to tease, but right now I know he’s not against me.

  ‘I’m reserving judgement.’

  ‘I don’t blame you. You should know I used to be normal. Before.’

  His shrug is a slow lift of those broad shoulders. ‘Normal can be overrated.’ A pause and then, ‘So, you weren’t there. Does that mean you were told later?’

  I nod. ‘I’d been out for a run and then got myself a double scoop of mint choc-chip from the ice-cream place on the way home, as a reward.’ I pause, but he doesn’t comment, so I keep going as the memory plays out in my head. ‘I pushed open the front door, but I was so focused on the ice-cream, I dropped my keys.’ My skin chills, the memory washing over me like ice. ‘As I picked them up, I noticed Dad’s car was parked at a weird angle in the driveway. If I’d parked like that, I’d have copped a lecture about considering others.’

  ‘He must have come home in a hurry?’

  ‘Yes. A moment later, my dad appeared in the hall. His eyes were red and his shirt untucked. You have to understand, my dad is not an untucked kind of guy. I think I dropped my ice-cream before he even spoke.’

  My throat closes over and I can’t say another word. I manage to keep the tears at bay, but only thanks to the strong arm around my shoulder. I lean into him, unable to do anything but accept the silent support. ‘Is this for him?’ Luc’s finger traces the white cursive writing over the sensitive skin inside my wrist.

  I remember.

  I nod. ‘It’s to remind me of him and the way things were.’

  ‘Did you get to say goodbye?’

  I shake my head. ‘It was instant. They said he wouldn’t have felt any pain. I think that was supposed to be comforting, but it didn’t make things better. Nothing could.’

  ‘Was it a drunk driver?’ His fingers are still on my wrist.

  ‘No. A completely random accident with no-one to blame.’ I spit out the words. ‘It’s mental. He’s dead and he’s never coming back and it’s nobody’s fault.’ I can feel the tight ball of anger forming in my belly and force myself to breathe.

  I have to get myself under control. I’m moving on and getting my life back to normal. Thinking too hard about Dan dying is a guaranteed road to crazy town.

  Luc’s hand wraps around my wrist. ‘This is why you didn’t perform this year?’

  He gets it. I nod and the usual guilt settles like a bad taste in my mouth. ‘I haven’t sung properly since Dan’s accident. I couldn’t find my voice.’

  ‘Like Ariel?’

  ‘Except without the prince or the sea witch. But otherwise, yep, pretty much.’

  What I don’t tell him is that not singing meant I missed something much more important than musical theatre camp.

  And I have to block out the thought because I’m mostly keeping myself together, and I don’t want Luc to see how much of a struggle it is. His hand around my tattooed wrist is the anchor I need to stay in the moment.

  His eyes are kind and there’s understanding in his face. And suddenly I realise that, somehow, he knows how I feel. I want to ask him how, but the question is too personal despite everything we’ve shared. Instead I change the subject. ‘You’re pretty good on the court.’

  ‘I used to play.’

  ‘Why did you stop?’

  He ducks his head and hesitates.

  So much for my attempt to lighten the subject. I’m about to tell him to forget I asked when he sighs.

  ‘Not enough time.’

  Before he can say anything else, there’s the sound of a door opening. We spring apart, which is silly—his touch was totally innocent.

  Jolie steps out onto the deck. She shakes her wet hair out like a boisterous pup and then stands there, dripping, with
a big grin on her face. ‘Did I interrupt something?’

  I think I feel Luc’s eyes on me briefly before he folds his arms. ‘Give it a rest, little sis.’

  Jolie smirks and wrings out the corner of the long T-shirt she’s wearing over her bikini. ‘Are you two coming for a swim? The others are already in, the water is delicious.’ Her pause is heavy with meaning. ‘Unless you’d rather be alone.’

  It shouldn’t be such a hard decision. And in the end, I don’t need to make it, because Luc is already on his feet and climbing the steps towards the deck. I guess I was the only one who was torn.

  ‘A swim is just what I need,’ I say. It comes out too loudly but they don’t seem to notice. I push myself upright, deliberately not looking at anyone, and follow them towards the pool.

  Distracted by the conversation with Luc, I’m not paying attention as I step into the pool enclosure and shut the gate behind me. Hands grab my waist and half lift, half drag me towards the edge. Hands I know all too well.

  ‘Finn,’ I cry.

  But then I’m airborne and I’m shutting my mouth and hoping water doesn’t go up my nose. Splash. Water stings my calves and the bare skin on the back of my arms. No elegant dive for me.

  I push to the surface, spluttering. ‘I’ll get you for this,’ I call.

  But he’s already grinning and running. He launches himself into the air and does a spectacular bomb right next to me. Water sprays everywhere. It’s in my mouth and my eyes and I’m spluttering again.

  I push him as hard as I can when he surfaces, but he’s unmoved.

  ‘It’s just a bit of fun, Zoey,’ he says.

  The faint annoyance I was feeling fades and I grin back. ‘You’ll pay.’ I glance down at the sundress floating around my body. ‘You’re lucky I was wearing my bathers under this dress.’

  ‘Yes, lucky us,’ says Cass.

  I turn. She’s in the spa that sits a few stone steps above the pool, which gives her a perfect view of her boyfriend and her best friend. She looks less than happy.

  For a second I’d forgotten that Finn and I weren’t alone. For a second it was me and Finn and fun. Just like it used to be.

  I paddle over to the edge and pull myself onto the side of the pool. I’m irritated with both of them. It’s not like I asked Finn to touch me. It’s not like it meant anything.

  Or did it?

  Luc steps into the pool area from inside, throwing his towel onto a chair. Did he see Finn and me? Would he care? His face is in shadow and his expression unreadable as he strides to the edge of the pool, removes his singlet and dives into the water. He comes up and powers to the other end without meeting my gaze.

  I stand. He was the one who wanted to come and swim. I unbutton my dress, swearing under my breath as I lose a button. It’s Luc’s fault. I didn’t plan to open up to him by the court, and it’s not like he did anything other than be nice. He hasn’t shown any interest in me at all. Probably because he thinks I’m a slut who screwed over his cousin.

  But my wrist burns with the memory of his touch. The pressure of his fingers tracing the letters of my tattoo.

  I ignore it.

  Luc being hot is a given—I felt the attraction the moment he stepped out of his dad’s car. But that’s nothing but chemistry, a reaction to his dark good looks. It doesn’t mean I like him.

  Most of the time he’s pretty obnoxious.

  Not all the time.

  Ignoring the thought, I dump my dress in a puddle and dive back in. This time I can appreciate the cool, clean water against my hot and bothered skin. I swim hard despite the soreness in my arms. Doing laps is better than having to make conversation.

  As I go up and down the pool I’m aware of someone swimming alongside me. Luc. Soon he’s keeping pace. Whenever I up my stroke he matches me, and when my flash of temper fades and I relax, he drops back too. What could have become a race turns into company. The kind that doesn’t want anything. Exactly the kind I need.

  When my lungs are burning and my muscles are begging for a rest, I stop at the shallow end and float on my back. Above, the sky is almost blocked out by the towering house and the impressive palms that surround the pool.

  I half listen to the talking and laughing around me, but mostly I float and try not to think.

  Jolie packs up first, draping a brightly coloured towel over her shoulders and picking up her sandals from where they lay scattered at the end of the sun lounge she’d been sitting on. ‘It’s getting pretty late,’ she says loudly, and I pull myself to the edge to say goodnight.

  ‘I’ll head to bed like a good little girl,’ she adds. This last is directed at Luc, who doesn’t bite at the sarcasm in her tone. She smiles at the rest of us. ‘I’ll see you all on the flip side.’

  ‘Night,’ I call.

  Luc makes sure we’re all familiar with how to lock up the house, then heads off as well, leaving me all alone with the happy couple.

  I’m about to make my escape when Cass sits up and beckons Finn to her side.

  He practically runs, and I turn away. My theory that he’s simply been waiting for me to pull myself together is looking a bit shaky.

  Maybe he really does love Cass.

  Cass stands and leans on Finn as she’s making her way inside. I’m not sure her ankle is that bad, but he seems happy to be needed. Now.

  Where was he when my life exploded?

  Cass turns back at the huge doors. ‘Will you be okay by yourself?’

  I make a show of looking around. ‘In this paradise? I’ll be fine. And yes, I’ll lock up when I’m done.’

  ‘See you in our room,’ she says.

  I try not to look surprised at her pointed tone. And I don’t look at Finn. I have a feeling the reminder that we’re sharing a room tonight is mostly directed at him.

  When I saw the size of the house and all the rooms I wondered if they’d take the opportunity to get some alone time, but if that’s what Finn was hoping for, it looks like he’s going to be disappointed. I know he won’t pressure her, though.

  It’s not like I’ve asked for details on their relationship. I have no idea whether they’re sleeping together. To be honest, I haven’t spoken to Cass properly at all lately. Wanting Finn for myself makes for serious awkwardness.

  They’re both looking at me, waiting for a response.

  I pull myself out of the water, squeeze out my hair and pretend I’m oblivious to any subtext. ‘See you in there.’

  I breathe again when they’re gone. It’s late, but this place is magic and I’m not quite ready to face my nightmares. In the past, I’d have gone looking for something chemical to numb the fear. Tonight, I think I’ll try a few more laps instead.

  I slide back in.

  The air is still warm and the only sounds are the soft splash of the water feature at the far end of the pool and my hands churning through the water. When I can’t lift my arm over my head and my skin is long past wrinkled, I get out and find a towel.

  ‘All done?’ The question comes from Jolie.

  I stretch my arms. Ouch. ‘I think so. How long have you been sitting there?’

  ‘A few minutes. I’m camouflaged.’

  She’s curled up on one of the sun lounges, wearing a zebra onesie. The black-and-white stripes make her blend into the fabric, explaining why I didn’t notice her until now. It should look childish, but on her it’s pretty.

  ‘That’ll keep you safe from any wandering lions.’

  Her smile is tired. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’

  ‘I know the feeling.’

  I towel dry my hair and lie on the lounge next to Jolie. My body is pleasantly heavy from the exercise, but I know if I head inside my mind will switch on and I’ll be lucky to sleep at all. Out here, staring at the few stars not eclipsed by the pool lights, I can pretend I’m fine.

  I hope if I pretend for long enough, I’ll begin to believe it.

  ‘I’m sorry about your brother,’ Jolie says.

  I swallow past a
lump in my throat. Who told her? Luc? Finn? It doesn’t really matter. I glance her way but she’s stretched out on her back, staring up at the sky. I settle back on the lounge and let the soft breeze dry the last of the water from my skin. ‘Thanks. Me too.’

  ‘You miss him.’

  It’s not a question. ‘Like crazy.’

  She doesn’t say anything for a while and I think maybe she’s drifted off to sleep. She does seem tired, but she hasn’t seemed like she’ll collapse again. I’ve noticed her eating pretty well—it’s been impossible not to pay attention after she scared me so badly in the showers.

  But when I look across, her eyes are open. ‘Do you think—’ She hesitates. ‘Do you think if you’d have known in advance, it would have been better?’

  ‘Better? He died.’ I regret the hard edge in my voice as soon as the words are out. Jolie’s kind. She’s probably just curious, and doesn’t realise how much talking about this hurts.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Her voice wobbles. ‘You can tell me to piss off but do you think if you’d have had the chance to say goodbye . . .’ Now she’s looking at me, her eyes intent. ‘If he was ill or something.’

  I close mine briefly. ‘I don’t know.’

  When I open my eyes again, she’s looking away. Clearly, it’s not the answer she wanted. I guess it’s not really an answer at all.

  For her sake, because she’s been nothing but sweet, I try. I try to imagine Dan sick for months. Wasting away and knowing it would end. Would it have been better to say goodbye and tell him everything, tell him how much I loved him? To let him know what a huge part of my life he was, and promise never to forget him?

  I’d like to think he knew all that. It’s the one thing I held onto in the haze after he died. That we were always close, in between the arguments and the bickering. We were friends as well as siblings and we weren’t afraid to admit it.

  ‘I think,’ I say slowly, trying to find the right words, ‘Dan’s loss created this giant chasm in my world and I was going to have to go over the edge either way.’ I take a steadying breath. ‘But maybe if I’d been able to see it coming, I wouldn’t have landed quite so hard.’

  CHAPTER