Zac and Mia by A.J. Betts

Author:A.J. Betts [Betts, A. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781443432672
Publisher: HarperCollins Canada
Published: 2013-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

20

Mia

I’m in his sister’s lounge room, supposedly out of earshot. I hear enough.

‘You can’t keep her.’

‘I know—’

‘She’s not a stray dog.’

‘I know. It’s not for long.’

‘What did her mum say?’

Zac lowers his voice. ‘They don’t get on. Mia moved out after—’

‘She’s running away?’

‘Maybe. I don’t know.’

‘What the hell were you doing on a quad bike? Mum would kill you.’

‘She doesn’t need to know. Can you keep it a secret? All of it?’

A joey sniffs at the hem of my jeans. Each time I shoo it away, it comes right back. It’s only small but I don’t trust its paws at my leg.

‘I’m nearly out of firewood—’

‘I’ll get the axe.’

‘God, Mum would kill us both. Just go nick some from the olds.’

Zac peers in at me from the hallway. He seems relieved I’m still here. ‘Bec needs wood. Firewood, I mean.’

‘I heard that!’

‘She won’t hurt you. The joey, I mean. Or Bec.’

‘I’m okay.’

The door bangs shut behind him and I’m alone again in this room with too much wood already: the floorboards, television cabinet, coffee table and clock. In the fireplace, wood crackles and snaps. The air stinks like smoke and wet fur.

I’ve never seen a real fire before. It’s supposed to be relaxing, isn’t it? But the flames burn my eyes and I have to look away. I have to get out of here.

Bec’s pretty in a sun-bleached, unkempt way. Her long shock of wavy blonde hair falls down the denim shirt that’s stretched over her belly. She offers me a baby’s bottle of milk.

‘I’m fine, thank you.’

‘It’s for the joey. I thought you might want to feed her.’

I shake my head. Bec hoists the kangaroo into her arms and it sucks on the teat.

‘What’s broken?’

‘Broken?’

‘You’re on crutches.’

‘I tore a ligament at netball. It’s getting better.’

In the fireplace, sparks shower upwards. If only a life could crackle and vanish so easily. If only I could turn to smoke and drift.

‘Here’s the thing: Zac’s worried about you and I worry about Zac. That’s kind of my job. He says you two are old friends. You are, aren’t you?’

I nod, hoping it’s enough.

‘I’ve got two spare rooms, though one’s got colour samples on the walls. I’ll be painting it for the baby.’

‘I just need—’

‘Money for a bus, I know, but you shouldn’t be crossing a continent on crutches. Your aunt will understand if you leave it a few days.’

Fuck.

‘I can’t have Zac worrying, because then I’ll worry, and that’ll worry Junior here. Then he’ll come out prem and everyone will worry and we don’t want that, do we? So stay until it’s healed, okay?’ She poses it like a question, though it isn’t.

I nod and smile, but I’m crossing the Nullarbor in my mind. It’s not Bec’s fault. She doesn’t know it’s already too late.

‘You want a hot drink? I don’t have coffee, sorry. We’re all tea-drinkers here.’

The front door bangs and Zac comes in with a load of wood and a ridiculous grin. ‘Stealth! Mum didn’t suspect a thing.’

He feeds the fire carefully, as if there’s a skill to it.

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