That One Summer (The Summer Series)

  My mind searched back to that day and I suddenly remembered the whole reason why I had planned to meet Amy early. It was to quiz her about her cryptic message about what a certain Onslow Boy had said about me. My heart pounded against my ribcage and my mouth went dry.

  “So? So what about it?” I said quickly, my eyes widening as I spotted Chris looking both ways before crossing the road toward the car.

  “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”

  “Told me what?” I all but shouted as Chris walked in front of our car.

  “That I overheard—”

  Beep-beep.

  My phone went flat.

  “Noooooooo!” I screamed at the blank screen in frustration. Chris paused at the driver’s door before leaning in the open window and looking cautiously at my phone, then me.

  “Something wrong?”

  I threw my dead phone on the dash in a huff, running my fingers through my hair. Nope, nothing I can’t find out … in six hours! Six long, painful hours. Hours of speculation.

  Wait a minute.

  I sat up. “Can I use your phone?”

  “Sorry.” Chris slid behind the wheel and slammed the door. “Mine’s as flat as a tack.”

  Of course it bloody was, Mr Have-a-chat.

  Of all the times for him to actually find his voice and want to have a nice long chinwag, it had to be now?

  He revved the engine and I sat, broodily staring off into space. What had Amy overheard? Who had been talking and could she have used it against Chris as blackmail? Was he the one talking about me? Was it good? Bad? Or was someone confiding in him? And why did any of it matter so much?

  Chris ejected his Bruce Springsteen tape and reached for the glovebox. “Here, pick a tape. You can program the next leg of the journey.”

  Chris nodded his head toward the stash. I took my feet off the dash and tentatively grabbed for a couple of cassettes. I read the cover of the first one and grinned from ear to ear.

  “No way!”

  Chris eyed me with interest.

  I couldn’t get the tape out of the cover quick enough.

  I slotted it into the player; I turned the volume up. ‘Rhiannon’ flowed out of the speakers.

  Chris smiled. “Nice choice.”

  “Are you serious? I love Fleetwood Mac.”

  “They’re one of my all-time favourites,” he agreed.

  The next several hours seemed kind of manageable – maybe music really did soothe the savage beast?

  ***

  We rolled into Calhoon after lunch, a pretty little town with elm tree-lined streets and old Victorian charm. A nice little tourist attraction not too far away from the coast and Evoka Springs. The engine rumbled as we turned down the main street, with Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Tusk’ blaring from the sound system, echoing conspicuously down the quiet street.

  “Just going to make a quick stop,” Chris said. I jumped, startled by his voice. It had been a couple of hours since he’d last talked, in typical Chris style. He pulled into a car space and nodded toward the shops. “There’s a shop there if you want to grab a cold drink or anything. Back in a minute.” Before I could respond, Chris had dashed across the road and walked down the street. I yawned. It was somewhat unnerving that I was getting used to all his little Chris-isms.

  I stepped out of the car, stretching my arms to the sky, groaning as I heard my bones click and pop from sitting down for so long. I stepped up onto the kerb to stretch my legs for a bit. I didn’t want to wander too far from the car, as Mr Genius had taken the car keys with him and, nice town or not, the last thing I wanted was for the van to be hijacked.

  Not that anyone would want it.

  Still, my Punky Brewster sleeping bag was in there and to lose that really would be a tragedy.

  I perused the window display of the local real estate agent, daydreaming over all the in-ground pools and water views that were selling for a fortune. How lucky people were that could afford a place like that, I thought. I wondered if they knew it.

  Tourists probably stopped off in Onslow and looked at our real estate and thought the same thing. How lucky we were to live in Onslow. And here we were fleeing from it, cringing at the very thought of being stuck there for New Year’s Eve. I wondered if anyone from Calhoon had fled and headed for Onslow to count in the New Year. I grabbed a fresh bottle of water from the shop next door and headed back to the car. I sat in the passenger seat with the door open, sunning my legs, and eyed my watch with annoyance.

  Come on, Chris!

  I was itching to get to Evoka Springs, to hang out with the others, catch up with the girls, grill Amy over the thing she hadn’t gotten a chance to tell me.

  I drummed my fingers impatiently on the dash, watching the slow tick of the dashboard clock. Ten minutes had gone by. I let out a frustrated sigh. My legs were getting hot, getting that tingling that starts to happen when you’re on the verge of burning. I lifted my feet into the footwell and slammed the car door.

  I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. “Men,” I sighed.

  “What about them?”

  I yelped, jumping at the unexpected voice and at Chris’s head poking in the open window of the passenger door.

  “Jesus, Chris!” I slapped his shoulder and clutched at my heart. “You scared me to death; don’t do that.”

  He chuckled as he made his way back to the driver’s side.

  “Sorry about that,” he said as he got back into the car. “Here, consider this a peace offering.” He threw a yellow package in my lap.

  “What’s this?” I eyed it sceptically, as if half expecting it to explode in my lap.

  Chris put his seatbelt on. “Open it and see.”

  I looked from the package to him and back again with guarded uncertainty. I tried to tear away the sticky tape that held the parcel shut. Chris watched on with silent amusement.

  I peered into the bag and stilled. My eyes widened as I looked back at Chris. He was now openly grinning.

  “Are you kidding me?” I exclaimed. “When …? How …?” I stammered inelegantly as I dumped the contents of the bag onto my lap.

  My migraine medication spilled out.

  “I called your mum this morning and asked if she could get the Onslow chemist to fax a copy of your painkiller prescription through to Calhoon so you could get it filled.”

  I stared at the bottle in awe. “That’s what you were doing this morning? All those phone calls?”

  “It took a few. Your mum, the Calhoon chemist for their fax number, the Onslow chemist to give them the details … They were all pretty helpful. Seems like it’s pretty important stuff you got there.”

  My eyes watered with relief at having my pills with me. But most of all, my heart swelled with gratitude. He’d been so thoughtful. I lifted my gaze to meet his, unapologetically, tears and all.

  “This is amazing … Thank you,” I whispered, my voice threatening to break.

  I thought Chris might have been embarrassed by my girly display of emotion, that he would have shrugged it off the way he usually did, or maybe just done what he did best and stayed silent. Instead, he looked right back at me. His gaze ticked across my face in silent study, before a crooked line pinched in the corner of his mouth.

  “Most girls get sentimental about flowers,” he teased.

  I sniffed, wiping my eyes, and gave a small laugh. “Not this girl. Food and meds keep me happy.”

  “Well, you’re easy to please, then.”

  I could feel his eyes still on me as I placed the bottle back into the bag.

  “Get me to a phone charger and I’m all yours,” I joked.

  Chris’s good humour was replaced with awkward surprise.

  Oh God, what did I just say? I wanted the ground to open up. Why couldn’t I just learn to seriously shut up!

  Chris cleared his throat and adjusted his side mirror.

  “Well, in that case …” He started up the car and threw me a cheeky grin. “Let’s get you char
ged, then.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Taaaaammyyyy!”

  I was all but knocked over by a fierce, bone-crushing bear hug as Amy collided into me at a run.

  “You made it!” she squealed, dragging me around in circles as though we were playing Ring a Ring o’ Roses.

  Sean stood next to Chris, watching.

  “How come you never act like that when we reunite?” Chris asked Sean in blank-faced seriousness.

  Sean slapped Chris on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, mate, I assure you there’s a song in my heart.”

  Amy dragged me down a sloping dirt track. “Come check out our camping spot, it’s wicked.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh and throw the boys a worried look as she led me away, linking her arm with mine.

  “Boy, am I glad you guys are here,” she said.

  “Miss me that much, did you?” I joked.

  But Amy’s serious expression never faltered. “Let’s just say I’m hoping some fresh company melts the ice, so to speak.”

  Before I could ask what that meant exactly, I heard distant cries.

  “Tammy!” Ellie shouted from her deckchair, alerting Tess and Adam to our approach.

  Adam stared pointedly at his naked wrist. “You’re late!”

  “Better late than never.” Tess beamed as she hugged me. “Good trip?”

  “Yeah, right,” Adam scoffed. “The poor girl was subjected to Chris for two days, can’t you see how incredibly fragile she is?”

  “Well, best take a seat, Oh Fragile One.” Ellie hopped up, offering me her seat.

  I obliged. “Where is everyone?” I looked around the convoy of vehicles parked on an angle like a wind break. Gear and tents were all set up.

  “Toby, Ringer, Stan and Belinda have gone down to the river to go fishing,” Ellie said unenthusiastically.

  “Belinda?” I asked. Who was Belinda? “Is that Stan’s new girlfriend?”

  “Sure is, isn’t she, Ellie?” Adam grinned and nudged Ellie with his foot.

  Ellie grimaced. “She hates me!”

  “What? Why?”

  “Probably because I’m his ex,” she said. “But even if I wasn’t – trust me, she and I are like water and oil. We do not mix.”

  “That’s brilliant, Ellie; it perplexes me why you even needed to copy my science homework when you have such insightful knowledge about liquid components,” Adam teased.

  She glowered. “I’ll turn your nose into a liquid component if you’re not careful.”

  Adam cat-called, holding his hands up in surrender. “Easy, now.”

  I leaned toward Amy to whisper, “Is this the ice that needs thawing?”

  Amy cringed. “I wish.”

  I followed her eye line toward Tess. She sat on the nearby log; her eyes may have been watching her two best friends, but she looked a million miles away.

  I threw a questioning look to Amy.

  She sighed. “I’ll tell you later.”

  ***

  After the initial hysteria of our arrival, I managed to take in the beauty of the bushland surroundings. I sat in one of the camping chairs, enjoying the cool breeze. It was so quiet. Soothing. It was hard to believe that we were on our way to the coast when we were so thickly enclosed by trees.

  Adam said that once we broke out of the ranges in the next leg, it would literally be like turning a corner and bam, the ocean would be right there in front of us. I couldn’t wait. Time spent not jammed into a car, another bend, yet another hour. Although I relished being out in the open at the campsite, I couldn’t help but find myself glancing up the track to the panel van where Chris and Sean stood, peering under the bonnet. Catching up on men’s business, no doubt. A familiar voice called from behind, shattering my focus.

  “NO WAY! He brought the SHAGGIN’ WAGON!” Ringer called.

  I spun around. “The what?”

  A shirtless Ringer strode up the track with a fishing rod slung over his shoulder. Behind him trailed Stan, Toby and a petite girl with a pixie haircut.

  Ringer passed me, admiring the van. “The Shaggin’ Wagon; that’s what it’s called,” he laughed.

  “THAT’S what you call it?” I asked Ringer in horror, standing up from my chair.

  Ringer shrugged, dumping his fishing gear in the back of Sean’s ute. “The mattress is a bit of a red flag, don’t you think?”

  “Shut up, Ringer,” warned Chris as he approached from the track. He gave Ringer a shove as he joined our group.

  Ringer shoved him right back. “How many miles has she clocked up now, you old stud?”

  The macho rough-housing escalated, scuffing up dust as Ringer trapped Chris in a headlock.

  Ellie sighed. “Yep, the gang is back together.”

  Ignoring the caveman display (and seriously wanting to forget the only reason the van could possibly have that name), I turned back to the group.

  “You must be Belinda?” I smiled, reaching out to offer a hand to the unfamiliar girl.

  “Hey.” She smiled coyly and took my hand. “Tammy, right?”

  “That’s me,” I said.

  Belinda’s eyes sparkled with a warmth that made me instantly like her. She was such a delicate thing, she only came up to Stan’s shoulder, with jet black cropped hair and alabaster skin that would no doubt burn easily in the sun. She was pretty much the exact opposite to Ellie’s blonde, bouncy self.

  “We were just about to give Tammy a tour of the campsite,” beamed Ellie.

  Belinda’s sparkling, friendly eyes dimmed as they flicked toward Ellie, as if the sun had gone behind a cloud. “Oh, okay, cool.” She nodded.

  Yep, Ellie might have well been right about Belinda’s lack of love for her, but in true Ellie style she just met Belinda’s tension with a pearly white smile, as if she hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary.

  Tess linked her arm through mine. “Welcome to paradise.” She led me away from the settling dust and dirty looks.

  Toby took the lead toward the camp ground. “That’s Tess’s and my home.” He pointed to an army green, two-man tent.

  “Yeah, they’re just the plebs outside the city walls,” added Adam.

  Passing another dome-like tent, Toby continued. “Bell and Stan’s humble abode.” He grazed his hand along the side of the red canvas.

  “And mission control, here is Adam, Ellie and Ringer’s chateau.” We came to a multi-roomed tent with an awning and fold-out table and chairs, with long life milk, stacked baked beans and a box with Cruskits and Vegemite, amongst other things, spread out on the table.

  “I am so glad you’re here,” Ellie said. “You can bunk in with us.”

  “Yeah, this is where all the hot, single people stay.” Ringer propped his elbow on Adam’s shoulder and raised his eyebrows in a ‘hubba-hubba’ motion.

  Stan shook his head. “Ignore him.”

  “Yeah, we do,” added Belinda with a cheeky grin.

  I scanned the grounds where they had made themselves at home – everything was spick and span and in such well-aligned order. My body seemed to relax somewhat. The neat campsite really spoke to the OCD in me. I wondered if the boys were usually so well organised, or whether it was something to do with Tess’s organisational skills that had influenced the group.

  I turned to Amy. “Where are you and Sean camping?”

  Amy folded her arms. “We’ve been voted off the island.”

  I blinked at her, confused. “Sorry?”

  “Honeymoon section is that-a-way.” Adam pointed to the woods.

  “Fine by us.” Sean threw Amy a knowing smirk that caused her to blush and look away.

  “Ugh, seriously, you two, quit it,” Ringer said, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

  “Ah, someday, Ringer.” Sean slung his arm around Ringer’s shoulders and looked up whimsically to the sky. “Someday, you too will be shunned from the group over the love of a woman.”

  Ringer shucked Sean’s arm off. “I would sooner … drive
the Shaggin’ Wagon.” Ringer sneered as if the very idea was so unsavoury.

  Chris’s eyes darkened. “I’ll pretend you didn’t just say that, young Ringo.”

  “Uh-oh, mate, anything but the car.” Adam’s eyes darted from Ringer to Chris and back in mock horror.

  “Mate, it’s a bucket of rust; you’re kidding yourself,” Ringer argued.

  “You seem to forget that I found him that bucket of rust,” Toby said.

  “You know what I mean – you’re dreaming if you think you’re going to pick up any chick in that car.” Ringer laughed.

  “He picked up me.”

  All heads snapped toward me.

  I shrugged, playing it cool. “I think the van is hot.”

  Literally. I nearly died of heat exhaustion last night.

  Toby broke into a slow grin as he took in Ringer’s troubled expression.

  “Really?” Ringer asked.

  “Oh yeah,” I said taking a step forward. “The shiny black paint … The spongy … soft …mattress … The purr of the engine vibrating through your body.” I stood right next to him, whispering in his ear. “So. Hot.”

  I was so close I could hear Ringer swallow deeply. His Adam’s apple bobbled up and down and he cleared his throat as he stepped back a little, away from me, not knowing where to look or what to say.

  Ha. I couldn’t help but giggle as I turned to catch the bemused faces of the group.

  “Wow,” breathed Adam. “There is something so insanely hot about a woman defending a car.”

  Everyone burst out into startled laughter. All except Chris, who just looked at me with those intense brown eyes and a crooked grin on his face.

  Ringer puffed out his chest. “So, uh, Chris … do you think I could borrow your car next weekend?”

  Chris paused. “Let me think about it.”

  “Really?” Ringer’s brows rose in surprise.

  “No,” Chris said short and sharp, unfolding his arms and leaving the group. He brushed past me sideways, his hand gently squeezing mine as if to say ‘thanks’. It happened so quickly I thought I might have imagined it. All the same, it made my stomach twist in excitement at the unexpectedness of it.

  “Aw, come on, Chris, you know I was only kidding.” Ringer followed him, his thongs crunching down the track as he pleaded his case.