Текст книги "Rock"

Автор книги: Anyta Sunday

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“Not great.”

“Perfect. We’re going up there.”

peridotite

I went to Mum’s this morning for my fourteenth birthday but I’m at Dad’s for the evening. We

order fish and chips at the wharf, then stuff our individually-wrapped scoops of chips under our

pullovers to warm us. We pull out chips from under our collars and pop them into our mouths. They’re

warm and deliciously salty-hot.

We head for the beach, where I crumple into the soft sand. Even Annie is with us, though she

avoids Lila to sit at my side. Jace is perched on the stone wall behind us with Dad.

“We have gifts,” Lila says. She rests a basket in front of my feet.

I unwrap two game-store vouchers, plus a new top-of-the-line magnifying glass from Dad. I thank

them and pull out the last gift, wrapped as if someone fought with the wrapping paper and tape. “Yours,

Jace?”

He groans. Sand squeaks under his feet as he crouches behind me. “I had no idea what to get you. It

sucks.”

It’s a mug engraved with I’m a Rock Whisperer.

“I thought . . . you drink a lot of tea . . .”

I grin at him over my shoulder. “Cheers, Jace.” He shrugs, and I say it again, quietly. “Thanks.”

* * *

Nine months later, middle of summer, I’m scowling at my plate.

Capsicum. I hate it. Something about the tangy-burnt taste makes me want to retch. Unfortunately,

the last time I didn’t eat my capsicum, Dad served it to me for breakfast and every meal thereafter until

I ate it.

I poke at my stir-fry, shoving the long strips of capsicum to the side of the plate. At times like these

I wish I had a dog.

Dad and Lila are lost in a boring discussion, and Annie has inhaled her food so she can excuse

herself. I scowl at her as she leaves the table, racing toward the capsicum-free zone of her bedroom to

talk on the phone all night.

Jace has almost finished his dinner. Judging by his expression, he doesn’t hate the dinner but he

doesn’t love it either. He shovels a few more vegetable bits onto his fork and glances over at me.

Specifically, at the mountain of capsicum collecting on the side of my plate.

He shakes his head and mouths “breakfast,” to which I groan and reluctantly stab one of the strips

of disgustingness. Jace chuckles, glances at his mum and my dad still talking, and quickly pinches my

plate from under my nose. In one swift scoop, he piles my capsicum onto his plate and slides my dinner

back to me.

He shrugs, but it feels more like a wink. My smile is forged from somewhere deep as I tackle the

rest of my food—

“Where’s Annie?” Dad asks me. I jump, afraid we’ve been caught.

“Oh, Annie? She excused herself. You half nodded at her.”

His mouth sets in a thin line as he takes in her empty place. Lila rests her hand next to his, their

pinkies touching.

“No matter,” she says. “We’ll tell the boys first—”

“Annie!” Dad yells, pushing back from the chair. “Come back down here.” He moves toward the

stairs.

A few moments later Annie stomps back into the kitchen, sighing loudly. She hovers in the arched

doorway, staring toward the patio instead of us. “What?”

Lila smiles brightly. “For our second family trip, we’ve decided to trek across part of Abel Tasman

National Park.”

* * *

Another year rolls by. Annie and I combine our money to buy Jace a ticket to the Symphony

Orchestra to see a famous pianist. A Christmas gift; the first Christmas we’ve spent at Dad’s.

He accepts the ticket with a frown. “Thanks,” he says. It’s a soft thanks that follows me all day.

I get every gift I hoped for, including a new phone, a To the Center of the Earth board game, and a

documentary on fossils. “Let’s check it out!”

But Dad and Lila bow out, making up a quick excuse about getting up early.

Annie and Jace look at each other, excuses dancing unspoken between them.

“You don’t have to,” I say, shrugging and heading up the stairs. “I’ll watch it on my own.”

Annie races up the stairs and flings her arm around my neck. Her tightly-curled hair bumps on my

chin. “Okay. I’ll watch it.”

I roll my eyes. She’s playing nice, and I don’t want that. “Nah, I’m good. Actually, now I think

about it, I’m kinda tired. I’m going to bed.”

“You sure?”

I drop her off at her room. “Of course. We can watch it this weekend.” By then she’ll forget about it

anyway.

“Okay,” she says and ruffles my hair. “Promise.”

Her door shuts with a puff of wind, and I slink toward my room.

At my bedroom door, my foot brushes against something hard. Six stones are placed in the doorway

at equal distances. I slip the documentary DVD under my arm to crouch down and pick up the stones.

Limestone. Quartz. Granite. Amethyst. Aquamarine. And—I laugh out loud as Jace’s padded steps

clunk down the hall—a moonstone.

“Did you put these here?”

Jace stops a few feet away and leans against the wall. “Nope.” Out of the corner of my eye, though,

I detect a grin.

“They’re beautiful.”

He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Are they?”

“I love how they’re squared. But if you didn’t put them here, who did?”

“Someone who wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas.” Jace meanders closer, then pulls the

documentary out from under my arm. “I mean, I’m not tired. I was gonna watch TV anyway. Why not

this?”

He ducks into the gaming room.

I pocket the stones and follow him.

part two: sedimentary

sedimentary: matter that settles

sandstone

With pursed lips, Lila throws a wet, moldy-smelling load back into the washing machine. She’s

pissed, but I can tell she’s trying to hold it in. Like me, she hasn’t figured out her boundaries or how far

she can push into the parental role. The clothes make a loud slapping sound as she throws them into the

barrel.

I stand with my thumbs in my pockets trying to cough up an apology, but it won’t come. It really

was a mistake. Completely unintentional. Besides, Lila always asks me to do work, never Annie. My

sister hates her but I don’t, so I get all the menial tasks? That sucks.

“I need you to be more proactive around the house,” she says. “Use your initiative for once. Look

around, see what needs doing and do it. Don’t wait to be asked all the time.”

She has a point, which makes it worse. I want her to be wrong so I don’t have to swallow the urge

to tell her to shut up. She can’t tell me what to do. She’s not my mother!

I’m shaking and my teeth are clenched. I’m about to yank the clothes from her grasp and tell her to

have a break, have a fucking Kit Kat, when Jace strolls in.

He steals up to his mum and says, “Good afternoon, beautiful.” He follows up his deviously-timed

congeniality with a kiss on her cheek.

Lila’s cool stare has melted. Before she can speak, Jace picks up the last of the clothes and throws

them in the machine. “Darn,” he says, “I meant to hang these out this morning.”

Lila says, “No, that was Cooper’s job.”

Jace laughs this off. “Yeah, except he bet a week’s worth of chores that he’d score higher than I did

last year on the end-of-year exams.” This is a lie—not the beating him part—that’s true—but the betting

part. We never made such an agreement. I want to catch his eye and ask what he’s doing, but he refuses

to look my way.

“You can’t bet your chores away, Jace,” Lila says, and her tone is soft now. Maybe she sees this

falsified bet as us bonding. In any case, she sighs and claps Jace lightly around the head. “Next time tell

me so I don’t go picking on Cooper.”

Lila gives me an apologetic smile. Then she says, “Since you’re taking over Cooper’s chores for

the week, you can start chopping the vegetables for dinner.”

Jace groans. I hope for his sake no onions are required. I’ve seen him cutting onions, and the

colorful language that escapes his mouth as he dices is not pretty. He hates onions. He claims he can

smell them for days afterward, and that it makes the piano keys stink when he practices.

When Lila leaves I slink up to Jace. He is concentrating on pouring in the washing powder but he

twitches when I stand next to him.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I say softly.

“Yeah, I did,” He shuts the lid of the washing machine. “You were about to get really mad at my

mum. She already has a hard enough time with Annie.” He starts the machine and turns around.

He was doing this for her, not me? I back away, hitting my hip against the sink. I’m embarrassed

about how I acted toward Lila.

Jace rests against the machine and stares at me. Heat races to my cheeks, and I stammer, wishing to

God I’d hung the stupid clothes out to dry this morning. “Sorry,” I mumble as I spin for the door.

In two steps, Jace has my arm. “Don’t get like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’ll avoid me for the rest of the week now.”

I’d like to lick my wounds in private, thank you. “Avoid you? Hardly possible.”

“You won’t hole yourself away in your room the whole evening?”

Yes, yes, I’d like to do that very much. “Of course not.”

Dammit.

Jace’s grip loosens, and his fingers slip off me one by one. “Good. Because if I’m doing your

chores all week, I want you at my beck and call.”

“Your beck and call?”

Mischief lights his blue eyes. He may as well start rubbing his hands together the way he’s looking

at me. I can hear the maniacal laughter. “Yeah. I might have a few chores of my own that need doing.”

I shake my head but I’m grinning. How can he have this effect on me? “You’re going to milk this,

aren’t you?”

“Like a cow.”

“Jace,” Lila calls from the kitchen. “Start with the onions.”

* * *

The entire meal, Jace stares at me with an evil, I’m-going-to-punish-you stare.

Dad taps his fork against his wine glass. “Listen up, kids.”

I elbow Annie in the side when she mutters something about not being a kid anymore. After what

Jace told me about his mum, enough is enough. It’s time Annie accepts our new life.

“Lila and I have thought this over,” Dad continues, smiling warmly at Lila. His eyes dance with

joy. “This weekend we’re taking our third family trip.”

Annie’s chair squeaks, but other than that she says nothing.

“What? Where?” I ask. I kind of hope we might go hiking again like we did last year. Abel Tasman

rocked. I smother a chuckle at my wit.

“We decided on something outdoorsy—”

“White-water rafting!” Lila bursts out.

Dad squeezes her hand. “It’s a two-day trip. Our gear will be transported to our camping site for us.

So we’ll be tenting.”

“Tenting?” Annie asks. “Like, all together?”

“Well, no,” Dad says. “We have two double tents and a single. We thought the boys could share a

tent, and you could have your own.”

Lila says, “Unless you want to share with your dad. I’m happy to have the single one to myself.”

She tries to engage Annie with a smile.

Annie shrugs. “I’m good with the single.”

It’s quiet for a moment. I fork a piece of broccoli and pop it into my mouth. The onion-garlic taste

makes me smirk. I glance toward Jace’s hands curled around his knife and fork. He’s glaring at Annie,

and I know exactly what he’s thinking.

“I think it sounds awesome,” I say cheerily. I mean it, even though I’m cheering more boisterously

than I normally would.

I excuse myself after we finish eating, but I don’t make it up three stairs before Jace calls my name.

He dries his hands on the tea towel thrown over his shoulder. “Since I have to slave in the kitchen,”

he says, “you have to do the same in my room.”

“Your room?”

“It’s a bit of a mess. Clean it up, would you?” He flashes a wide, mocking smile before returning to

the kitchen.

For a second I contemplate ignoring his command, but I don’t.

His room isn’t bad. The bed is unmade and some clothes and shoes are lying around, but his desk is

orderly. It’s dark in here even though I switched the light on when I came in. His dark grey room

features one turquoise wall. Cozy. I fight the desire to nestle into his blankets and curl up to sleep.

I get to work cleaning. With every breath, I inhale more of Jace. It’s a slightly-sweet citrus smell,

like oranges. His bedclothes feel softer than mine, well worn. I bring the cover up to my chin and nuzzle

against it—but I instantly realize how weird of me that is to do.

I stop nuzzling and start making the bed.

The white splotches on his sheets make me blush. I try not to think too much about what a sixteenyear-

old boy does up here, but the more I force the thought from my mind, the more elaborate is the

imagery.

Bed made, I stuff his clothes into the hamper and straighten his shoes. I yank out one of his Chucks

that’s wedged halfway under the bed, and a few magazines slide out with it.

I blink at the porn in front of me.

It’s the standard stuff that Ernie and Bert like to laugh at and get kinky with. I want to laugh but it’s

not funny. It’s almost—enraging. I don’t understand why this discovery angers me so deeply. Not true,

Cooper. And you know it.

My throat tightens; I shake my head and grit my teeth against that voice in my mind—

Jace clears his throat behind me. “I changed my mind,” he says. “I don’t want you to clean my

room.”

I can’t pull away from the magazines. Big-breasted women in slutty bikinis wink at me like they

know exactly what I want. Bitches don’t have a clue!

And why is that?

Shut up!

Jace crouches next to me and pries a magazine I didn’t even know I’d picked up from my hand. He

frowns and shifts. “I mean, if you want to borrow one—”

“No! Fuck off.”

I stand abruptly. I can’t look at him. Can’t look at his bed. Can’t breathe his citrusy air anymore. I

stumble out of his room, shove on a pair of shoes, and hurry outside. I need . . . I need . . . I need a

stone.

But I’m too close to the house. Its lights are illuminated as though it’s watching me. Judging me.

I can’t stand it. I have to get away. I jog along the stream through the pines, toward the cave. The

wind sluices over my recently cut hair and tunnels down the arms of my green Koru T-shirt—the one

Dad bought me for Christmas. The one that Annie said brings out my eyes in a wicked cool way and

had Jace staring extra hard at me.

A stupid tear hovers in the corner of my eye, but I swipe it away as I duck into the cave.

The glowworms are extremely bright, but their magic takes a while to settle over me. When it

finally does, I feel like I’m standing on the edge of that cliff again, about to fall. Thrills zip up my

middle, stirring my cock.

I raise my arms and stand on my tippy toes to imagine the rush of falling into the stars.

Every inch of my skin tickles with shivers just like the last time I came here when Jace was at the

creek, singing . . .

I drop my arms and snap out of the memory. It doesn’t matter anyway. He didn’t even know I was

listening.

I sit on the floor of the cave, pick up a smooth stone, and hug my knees, willing the glowworms to

rearrange themselves into an answer. An answer to my questions. How do I stop feeling like this? How

do I stop that voice in my head that lies to me and tries to confuse me all the time?

The worms don’t move. Neither do I. Not for a long time. I feel the heat of Jace’s whisper before I

hear it. “You’re supposed to be at my beck and call.”

I don’t turn around. “What do you want?”

“Why are you hiding?”

“I’m not.” I grip my stone harder.

He settles next to me, hugging his knees too. His arm bumps against mine, but I continue staring at

the glowing green walls. “Why aren’t we friends?” he asks. “Why do we pretend we don’t like each

other?”

“You give me a dirty look every morning. You tell me.”

I hear him shrug. “I don’t know. It’s easier.” He turns to look at me. His hot gaze on my cheek pulls

me to face him, but I resist. “I know we were forced into each other’s lives, but, I mean, I would have

chosen you if I’d had the chance.”

My breath hitches, and a shy smile stretches his lips.

“I mean, if I hadn’t known you,” he says, “and you stopped to talk to me that first time at school? I

would’ve tried harder to hang out with you. I mean, you were odd.” At this, he laughs softly. “I was

surprised by the nose butt to my knee, but I liked you. And the Music Rocks T-shirt you wore is sort of

funny now that I know you.”

“I don’t remember the T-shirt.” The stone falls from my sweaty grip and I fumble for it again.

I would have chosen you.

My heart races as his words skate over every inch of my skin.

“What do you say, Cooper?”

I’m too fast to grab the hand he offers, and I hold it too tightly. I’m scared he can somehow hear

that traitorous, whispering voice through my touch and he will quickly let me go. “Can we keep the

dirty looks?” I ask.

He laughs. “With you, I think it’d be hard not to.”

mudstone

White water rafting is terrifying. I’m being knocked around like a lollipop in a piñata, and for

whatever goddamn reason, I’m hooting like I’m having the time of my life. The complexities of the

mind: I will never understand it.

Our boat bounces over the rapids, swinging wildly. I clutch the paddle against my lap so I don’t

lose it again. At the front, Annie and Dad are laughing like wet hyenas, while Lila and our guide are

enjoying an amused silence. Jace looks like he’s going to be sick. Every time we’re close to a rapid, his

posture stiffens and his eyes shut like he wants it to end.

The boat dips abruptly, bashing me against Jace’s side. I grab his lifejacket so he doesn’t tip

overboard. Another wave lurches into the boat, drenching Jace’s swimming shorts.

“This is it,” he mutters. “I see the news already. Seventeen-year-old boy drowns on the Waikato

River.”

“Sixteen. Birthday isn’t for another month.”

He pinches my thigh and I yelp. At least he’s smiling now.

The rapids calm and we’re back to paddling. Jace asks how much longer until the campsite, and

Dad’s answer elicits a groan. I chuckle at his whininess.

“Don’t worry,” I tell him with a cocky smirk. “You can hold my hand.”

Annie and Lila laugh, which is the first time I’ve ever heard them laugh at the same time.

Shockingly, they share an almost-friendly glance.

“This was a great idea,” Dad says with a large inhale. “Fresh air and exercise. And look at the

beauty.”

Dad’s right. The deep-turquoise water glows and its surface shimmers gold under the sun. A hint of

a breeze protects us from overheating. Like Dad, I breathe in the smell of the river, the sunscreen, and

all the good moods around us. Save Jace’s, of course.

When the next rapid approaches, we pull in our paddles. Jace grabs the back of my hand and curls

his fingers through mine, clutching tightly.

I stare at our hands on my thigh.

“You volunteered.” Jace’s grin instantly disappears as our raft bobs and twists.

This time, the Level 4 white-water waves exhilarate me, but the heat of Jace’s palm and his sharp

nails scratching into my skin excite me more.

The rapid lasts forever, yet it feels like the shortest bloody rapid there ever was.

When it ends and Jace pulls away, I tell myself I’m glad it’s over.

But you liked it. You really liked it.

Leave me alone! Jace is practically my stepbrother.

It’s not as though you’re actually related.

He’s also a boy.

Come on, I thought we were past this.

I’m quiet the rest of the day until we return to the campsite. After I help pitch the tents, I decide to

bugger off on my own.

I find a cozy nook downstream that has its own riverbed, a small half-moon of pebbly shore. The

stones hold the warmth of the day’s heat, and I lie on them like a starfish to soak it up.

I empty my mind by thinking of nothing at all. I snatch up the first stone I find and drain all my

negative thoughts and feelings into the stone.

Annie finds me an hour later. “What’s up, bro?” She sits next to me and gently peels my fist open.

“That’s pretty with the white layers,” she says.

I sit up and look at it for the first time. Beautiful, smooth and curved like the nook we’re sitting in

or Cheshire Cat’s mysterious smile. Did the secrets I poured into it make it appear that way?

“Mudstone, I think. With a tiny quartz vein, see?”

“Looks too nice to be called mudstone.”

“Mudstone comes in lots of colors and shapes. Makes up sixty-five percent of sedimentary rock.”

“Hmm,” Annie says. “Anyway, dinner’s ready. I was sent to drag you back.”

“What is it?”

“Couscous.”

“What’s up with you?” I lean an arm against her shoulder.

Her straggly wet hair presses against my skin as she rests her head on me. “I’m stubborn,” she says

quietly.

“You can say that again.” I press my forehead against the top of her head to let her know I love her

anyway.

“I don’t know how to stop.”

She starts to cry. Small wracking sobs that jerk her body.

“Hey, hey,” I say, desperately trying to think of calming words. “It’s not too late to make a change.”

“B—but I can’t. I’m a big bitch and I can’t help it.”

“You’re not a big bitch.”

Annie giggles, which soon turns into hysterical laughter. Her eyes are shut tightly, her nose

squishes as laughter peels back her smiling lips, and tears stain her red cheeks.

I clutch my stone and Annie’s laughter echoes in my hand. I know I’ll feel it every time I touch the

stone in the future.

Annie’s laughter finally fades and she tilts her head at me. “I’m going to stop being a bitch. I don’t

want to screw up any more of my relationships.”

“Any more?” I sense a story here.

She laughs again but it’s a pained one. “Boyfriend dumped me. Said I was too passive-aggressive

and bitchy. I wish I hadn’t lost my virginity to him. Oh well. Better now than at university next year, I

guess.”

“Sorry. That sucks.” This chat is quickly moving into awkward territory.

She doesn’t seem to feel the weirdness because she keeps going. “Here’s a tip for when you get a

girlfriend: don’t dump her two days after taking her flower. Don’t take it in the first place.”

I’m quiet. Too quiet, apparently. Annie sits up suddenly and I have to fight to maintain focus on my

Cheshire stone.

“Cooper?”

I pick myself up. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She doesn’t take the bait. “Cooper—”

“Dinner’s ready, right?”

She lifts a hand and I pull her up. She tightens her grip when I’m about to let go. “You know you

can tell me anything, right? I’m here if you need advice or someone to talk to.”

I force a grin. “Look at that. You’re changing already.” With an arm around her, I walk us back to

the campsite.

* * *

After Dad’s lame attempt at spooking us with ghost stories, we retire to our tents. At Dad’s request,

we pitched them with enough distance to quarantine Lila’s snoring. This is a joke between them but out

here in the bush it’s taken seriously. I think Dad better watch his back.

In our corner of the campsite, Jace unzips our tent and holds the flap open for me. I bend over and

drop to my knees inside the stuffy tent. Our sleeping bags are already unrolled so I set the torch to lamp

mode and place it at the end of the tent, between our two sleeping mats.

Jace hooks his fingers under the hem of his T-shirt and peels it off. His chest is lightly tanned and

tapers gently to his hips. He pulls at the few hairs he sports and grins at me. I jerk my attention to my

bag and pull out a sleeping shirt. I’ll wear the boxers that I changed into earlier.

“You got any noteworthy hair yet?” he asks.

Other than my crotch, I’m smooth. “Nah,” I say and duck out of my shirt.

“It’ll get there. Your voice has broken already.”

“Is talking about puberty a fun conversation for you?”

He laughs and I shove on my sleeping shirt.

“We’re friends, remember,” he says. “We can talk about any shit we like.” My back’s to him but I

know he’s waggling his eyebrows. “The more uncomfortable, the better.”

I have a feeling I’ll need my stone tonight, so I take it out and climb into my sleeping bag.

Wriggling onto my side, I slide my hand with the stone under the pillow. Jace is yanking at the

zipper on his sleeping bag. Finally it gives and he draws it up halfway and lays on his side, facing me in

his threadbare blue T-shirt.

“You start then,” I say. “With the uncomfortable shit. What about past or present girlfriends?” I

hold my breath as soon as I’ve asked. Why do I care?

I don’t.

Well, in a friend way I do.

“What makes you think I’ve had any?”

“Have you looked in the mirror lately?” I ask.

He blinks and it’s hard to tell in the crappy lamplight but he might be blushing. I enjoy this thought

until I realize the implication of my question.

“I mean—”

He chuckles. “Thanks, Cooper. You’re going to knock the girls off their feet too, soon as you have a

few hairs on that chest.”

I rub the stone.

Jace rolls onto his back. Leaves from a low-hanging branch make the shadows on the tent’s ceiling

dance. The river babbles in the distance. “I met this one girl at Darren’s last party—”

“What party?” I ask.

“Last weekend when you were at your mum’s. Anyway, she likes me. She’s a tall blonde with green

eyes like—” I still. Like what? “Granny Smith apples,” he says finally.

“That’s—” Lovely? Great? Wonderful? Why don’t they run off and make some precious greeneyed

babies already! “—that’s precise.”

He hums. “Yeah.”

“What’s her name?” I wonder if I sound too bitter.

“Susan.”

“She’s in your grade?”

He nods. “Not in my classes, though. Probably why I haven’t noticed her.”

“Is she as well-endowed as the pics in your magazines?” I definitely sound too bitter.

Jace faces me. “Why are you still upset about those magazines? Everyone jacks off to porn.”

“I don’t.”

Jace frowns for a moment then nods. “I told you you’re welcome to—”

“I don’t want your crusty magazines.”

He laughs. “I guess that is a bit gross. I can get you something fresh if you want. A few good online

sites maybe?”

I want to knock my head against something hard. “No, it’s . . .” You really going to spill those beans

here? While you’re alone in a tent you have to share? “Nothing. I’m good with the shower. Easy to

clean.”

“You’re missing out. I have this lube—”

“Lube?” This comes out a yell and I slap a hand to cover my mouth.

Jace snorts. “You’re fun. I can teach you so much. When you’re fucking your fist with this lube, it

feels so slick it has to be close to the real thing.”

“Let’s stop this conversation.”

“You getting hard thinking about it? Me too.”

I look down at the gentle rise of his sleeping bag—

“What about you?” he asks, tucking his hands behind his head. “Any girlfriends? Crushes?”

Saying no would feel like I’m admitting something so I nod instead. “Sure. Plenty.” That should be

enough to take the heat off.

And it does.

But I don’t feel relieved. I feel like the biggest chickenshit ever.

* * *

When Jace finally drifts off, I crawl out of my sleeping bag, grab the light, and tiptoe to Annie’s

tent. I tug her foot and whisper until she stirs.

She gives a small jerk when she sees me, but quickly pulls it together.

We sneak to the edge of the river where cold stones sink under our feet. Moonlight reflects on the

water, and the bush looks like it’s painted navy-blue.

Annie shivers. I wish I’d brought us a blanket—

“Wait a sec,” I rush back to the campsite, sneak back into my tent and slide out the sleeping bag.

“Here,” I say to Annie, unzipping the bag. “We can huddle in this.”

Our feet are still cold but our shoulders are covered comfortably.

“It feels different out here at night.”

“Still. Quiet. Like a suspended breath.”

“Nice.”

She nudges her foot against mine. “Why are we out here, Cooper?”

“Have you ever felt so full of thoughts you think you could burst?”

She leans between her feet and picks up a stone. “When Mum first told me Dad was leaving us. All

the anger, the questions, and that damn feeling of inferiority pounded in my head. I thought all you’d

have to do was pull out a needle and prick, and I’d deflate until nothing was left. Sometimes I wished it

too, so that I didn’t have to feel sad anymore.”

I wriggle my toes against the arch of her foot. “I feel like that right now,” I say. “Angry, loads of

questions, inferior. But also . . . butterflies. I’m totally excited but I hate that I’m excited. Hatred might

be the biggest part of what I feel—”

“Cooper! Please, the suspense is killing me. Just—”

“I’m gay.” I wait a second to let it sink in. “That’s why there won’t be any future girlfriends.” Why

I don’t care for Jace’s porn collection. Why I can’t tell him all the uncomfortable shit.

Annie chuckles and says quietly, “That is exciting, Coop. You should let yourself be excited. Life

has plenty of other problems to worry about, so don’t let that be one of them.”

This great advice is coming from my sister?

I hold my tongue and look to the tents in the distance. “How do you think Mum and Dad and

everyone will take it?”

“I can’t say for everyone but Mum and Dad will be fine. No need to angst over telling them. I know

they won’t care.” She shrugs. “Might be a bit trickier at school though.”

“Yeah, I don’t plan on coming out at school. Just Mum and Dad. The rest can wait until university.

Or until it’s a need-to-know situation.”

“Need to know? You mean if you find a guy you like? Is it too early to start matchmaking? Because

Darren’s cousin—”

“Too early!” I add a growl in case she tries to play Cupid anyway, and I hastily change subjects.

“Whatever happened between you and Darren anyway? I thought he was your first.”

Annie sighs. “I wasn’t very nice to him a couple of years ago. I lead him on. When he asked me out

I turned him down.”

“Why’d you turn him down?”

She studies the stone in her hand then passes it to me. It’s dark grey and long, like a dolphin. “He

was too nice.”

“How is that a problem?”

“Well, back then it was.” She pulls the sleeping bag up to her neck. “I didn’t want to hurt him, and I

knew I would.”

“But did you like him?”

She smiles. “Yeah. I still do. Haven’t you noticed I’m always out of my room when Jace has him

around?”

Until she said it, I hadn’t.

I grin. “Why don’t you apologize? Maybe you could try again.”

“I sorta missed the boat on that one. He has a girlfriend now.”

“Oh.”

“But it’s all right. Live and learn, right?”

“You sound like Mum.”

The way Annie cuddles against me says she likes the compliment. We stay like this, sharing

warmth and staring at the wide river and the inky tree shapes, until our eyelids droop and exhaustion

sinks us toward the riverbed.

“I know what it is,” I mumble through the last bit of consciousness I have left.

“What’s that?”

“We all want to be a ten on the Mohs scale. But we’re not. It’s why I love diamonds.” And the idea

of not getting hurt.

She yawns. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

We use our last bit of energy to pull ourselves back to the campsite. Annie zombies off to her tent,