13.
I woke up to my bedroom door slamming open.
I turned in my bed, squinting at the hallway light. A silhouette with choppily shaved head stood in the doorway. I frowned.
"River?"
"I'm leaving," he said.
"What?" I murmured, burying my head into my pillow. "I'm sleeping."
"I'm leaving, Isla. I'm sick of this shit. I'm going back to Sydney."
That woke me up.
I shot up, my hands rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. He didn't say anything more. Instead, he walked towards me, flopping limply onto the bed, his head hitting my lap over the blanket.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, my voice still groggy. "How did you get in here?"
"Your mum let me in."
"What?" I sputtered. My mum left for work early in the morning before the sun was even up. "What time is it?"
"Five," River replied. He turned his head, his voice muffling through the comforter. "I hate Shellside Bay."
"Don't say that," I said, returning my attention to him.
I'd worry about interrogating my mother later for letting a strange boy with a badly shaved head in mismatched clothes into our house unsupervised while I was sleeping. Knowing how much she loved River, though, it was unlikely to change anything.
I'd never seen River like this before. Sure, he moped and complained a lot, and he had a tendency to look on the negative side of things, but a River who hated Shellside Bay was unheard of.
Shellside Bay was his escape.
It was where he went to escape Sydney, to hide from his parents, to get away from school. I didn't know what life was like for River in Sydney before I moved in with him. He refused to talk about it, always shifting the topic to Shellside Bay.
If he was claiming to hate Shellside Bay now, something was very wrong.
"River," I said, my voice turning as stern as possible while still thick with sleep. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"
"No," he said, his words vibrating against the blanket. He rolled over to the other side of my mattress and glared at the ceiling. If I looked to closely, despite the darkness, I thought I could see redness rimming his eyes. "Nothing happened. That's exactly the problem."
I frowned. "I don't see how that's a problem."
"You don't see how it's a problem?" he echoed. He twisted onto his stomach to glare at me. "I drove all morning to Shellside Bay only for all of our friends to be busy the entire time and for Shellside Bay to be—be shit. I mean, we haven't even visited Isla yet!"
"I'm right here, River."
His glare turned sharper. "You know what I mean."
"Of course, I know what you mean. It's not like I've been having the time of my life here either. It's like, Everett's too busy for me, Austin's too busy, Connor's too busy. I just—" I sighed. "It's not what it used to be. Nothing is."
River sniffed. It was quiet, but the whole room was. The whole town was. So, I could hear him. And I could hear the shaky breath he released right after it.
Abruptly, he sat up, the entire mattress shaking with the movement.
"I'm leaving," he said again.
"You can't leave," I replied. "You're my ride home."
"You can leave with me, or you can find another ride, but I'm going," he said, and I knew he meant it.
I'd never seen River like this before and I thought if he spent another minute in Shellside Bay, he might spontaneously combust or something.
"I can't stay here any longer," River said, his voice an almost-whisper. "Be honest, Isla. Is it really worth staying here for another day or two? What are you going to do? Sit on the cold beach? Wait around for Austin to free up five minutes of his time to grace you with a conversation?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. He was being unfair. Austin and Connor had jobs. They couldn't just up and leave whenever they wanted. It wasn't like they wanted to ghost us for our entire surprise trip.
"How about you be honest, River? Austin's not the one you're really upset about," I replied.
River's face hardened. He stood up and walked straight to my door.
"I'm leaving at noon. It's up to you if you're coming or not."
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In the end, River was right. I would never tell him that to his face because it would inflate his ego so much that his head would probably explode, but he was right.
As soon as the sun came up, I dressed and dug out my old bicycle to ride to Sky's house.
Sky's house was exactly what you'd think if you heard the words 'beach house'. Her porch basically stepped out onto the sand a little further down from the main beach, and its walls had chipped into a faded wood that gave it a sort of vintage charm.
Sky was sitting on the steps to her front door when I saw her.
"What are you doing here?" she called to me as a way of greeting.
I hopped off my bike, walking towards her. "What? Not happy to see me?"
"It's barely morning," she replied. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"
"Shouldn't you?" I asked.
I reached her and sat on the steps beside her. She shrugged. A cold breeze bit past us and I tugged my hoodie—Everett's hoodie—around myself tighter.
"My house is so noisy. I forgot what it was like with all my sisters around," she said.
Sky had five younger sisters which sounded like a nightmare to me, as an only child in a tiny house. I supposed having two parents and a big house didn't make it any easier on her.
"River's leaving," I said. I thought it would be best to rip the Band-aid off. "And I'm going with him."
She spun to me, her eyes growing wide. "Already? The weekend's not even over yet."
I shrugged. "He's having a shitty time."
"Because Connor's not giving him attention?" Sky asked. She gave me a knowing look. "He's such a teenage girl sometimes."
"Can't blame him, honestly. It's a bit dead here. It wasn't always like this, was it?"
"It's a small town," Sky replied.
We both frowned, staring out at the ocean. The tide was still high, creeping up towards us on the sand with each wave.
It wasn't much of an answer, but I knew what she meant. Maybe if we'd met in Sydney, everything would be different. But then, everything would be different.
"Sky!" a voice shouted from behind us, through the thin walls of her house. A string of words in Khmer followed and Sky sighed.
"I have to go help make breakfast," she said, standing and brushing the sand off her shorts. "I'm going to stay here until my midterm break is over. Is that okay?"
"Of course," I replied, standing with her. "Will you find a ride?"
She nodded and before I could turn back to my bike, she leapt forward, pulling me into a tight hug.
"I love you, Isla," she muttered. "We're still getting used to everything. It'll be fine in the end."
"I love you more," I replied.
We let each other go and I watched her walk back into her house before I left. I wondered when I would see her rusted fly screen slam shut again.
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When I got back home, my mum was there.
I'd stopped by a few shops along the way, sitting at cafes I used to study in back in school, dropping by to visit Everett's grandmother, buying snacks I could never find in Sydney.
I shucked my shoves off, dropping my bags of junk in my room before making my way through the living room. I wouldn't have noticed her if she hadn't spoken.
"Are you leaving?" my mum asked when she saw me.
I didn't know how she knew. That was the thing with mothers, they always seemed to know. I nodded.
"River's driving me back up to Sydney at noon. I just needed to grab a few more things from my room. Why are you home so early?"
"Clemente House is empty during off-season," she replied.
We looked at each other for a moment. She was sitting at our old, creaky dining table. It was strange. I'd only been gone for a few months and I could already see how she'd aged.
Lines dipped into the skin beside her mouth, marking her smile even when her lips were still. Her forehead had similar wrinkles. Even her hair had turned a little greyer. Had she always looked like this?
People seemed to age faster when you didn't see them every day. It was more sudden that way. It wasn't one or two grey hairs each day. It became a whole head, an entire streak of grey and white in the months that passed.
She must have been seeing the same in me because she suddenly opened her arms, silently pulling me into a hug.
I held her head to my stomach in a tight hug, still standing over her as she sat.
"Are you alright here, Mum?" I asked when we pulled apart. "You're not lonely or anything?"
She laughed lightly, shaking her head. "I've gotten used to being alone since your father died. Before that, really. He was different those last few weeks, you know? Quieter. Less lively. He wasn't him anymore. I should've seen it coming. Been more prepared."
"You could remarry," I suggested. I didn't really want a new stepfather, but Everett's dad seemed to be happy ever since he remarried, and all my mother deserved was happiness.
She shook her head again, this time with certainty.
"Your father was the only one for me," she said. She looked up and met my eyes. "I've been thinking about travelling."
"Travelling?" I echoed. I grinned, blinking at her. "You should. Of course, you should. Where would you go?"
She sighed, wiping her hands on her pants, and shrugged. "I don't know. I just—this house is so much quieter without you and now that I don't have to pay for your tuition or anything, I was thinking of touring the world. Maybe Europe. Your father always wanted to visit Germany."
"Germany?" He'd never seemed like a Germany type of guy.
"For the beer," my mother said, reading my mind. "I think I'll start there."
"You should do it," I replied. "And text me every day. Ten times a day. And three video calls."
"Alright, alright," she laughed. She reached up, tugging one of my curls before running her hand over my arm. "I'm so proud of you. You know that, right?"
"Of course," I said. I squeezed her should and smiled. "I'm proud of you too, Mum. You have no idea how much I've missed you."
"You have to tell me before you visit next time. I might not be here."
I laughed. "In that case, I'll meet you in Europe somewhere. Germany. Italy. You name it."
"It's a deal."
At that moment, a car horn sounded outside. I jumped.
"That must be River," I said, checking my watch. "He's almost an hour early."
"Go pack," my mum said. She stood, pulling me into another tight hug before covering my face with kisses. "I'll see you soon, okay? Be good at school."
"Always," I replied.
I ran into my room, gathering all my grocery bags into the one duffel I'd brought with me before digging through the rest of my drawers.
I'd forgotten a lot of things when I left for Sydney—my favourite hairbrush, my pack of floss, candles to burn in my new bedroom—but the most important thing was in my bedside table, buried deep in the drawer there.
I shoved my hand inside, digging around old notebooks and tangled jewellery until my fingers closed around it.
My seashell.
Outside, the car horn honked again.
My favourite hairbrush and vanilla scented candles didn't matter. I tightened my fist around my seashell and grabbed my bags.
And I left Shellside Bay again.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
Hey guys! So sorry for the late update. I've been recovering from covid lol and I was so dizzy yesterday I could barely open my eyes much less update. Still pretty dizzy so I haven't edited this chapter, but I hope you love it nonetheless! Edits to come!
Thanks for reading! xx
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