‘Maybe the opposite,’ he admits. ‘It was good – everybody knows I got busted, just like the rest of them, and they know I didn’t say nothing. It makes me a solid part of the crew.’
‘Sinking deeper,’ I murmur, and he knows what I mean.
‘Yeah.’ He nods, as though he’s accepting how entwined in this he’s become. ‘Snowie and Leon shouldn’t have any suspicions now.’
‘What about Ando?’
The cold transforms his shrug into a shudder. ‘Ando’s suspicious of everybody, all the time. He only trusts himself. Nothing I do’ll make any difference.’
‘Okay, then.’ My voice sounds weary. I’ve been cleaning and packing up all day, and I still have to drive back to Walpeup.
Harris looks at me, seems to realise what he’s forgotten in all the drama. ‘Ah shit, how was the wedding?’
Having almost forgotten myself, I’m surprised into a laugh. ‘Mad. Indian weddings are always organised chaos. My sari kept slipping, Hansa wanted photos of every single person at the reception, and Jas looked like she was going to throw up at one point. At least jail is quiet.’ I grin at him. ‘But thanks for remembering.’
‘You’ve still got a bit of stuff around your eyes…’ He reaches out as if he’s about to touch my face.
‘Kajal, yeah.’ I rub under my right eye with a finger, but that’s probably only smearing it worse. ‘What about the other people at your house? Are they all okay?’
He tucks his hands into his hoodie pockets, like he’s keeping them there for safety, but it’s probably just to stop them from freezing. ‘None of the kids were there, which was lucky. Kev’s still in the clink. I don’t think he gets bailed until tomorrow. And the girl with the baby looked really strung out. Actually, I felt more sorry for the baby.’
I clutch my windbreaker at the neck where the breeze dips in. ‘I still don’t get it. What is it about drugs?’
He raises his eyebrows in my direction. ‘You’ve never been drunk? Smoked pot? Taken anything?’
I shake my head. It’s not something I should be embarrassed about, but I feel embarrassed somehow. I think the embarrassment is more that I’m revealing my own naiveté.
Harris looks amused, shrugs. ‘Well, drugs are nice, for lots of reasons. That’s one of the things they don’t tell you in those classes at school. Like, they say, ‘Don’t have sex before you’re old enough’, ‘Don’t do drugs cos they’re bad for you’. But what theydon’ttell you is that drugs are bloody nice. I mean, that’s the attraction, for some people. That it’s forbidden, but it feels so good.’
‘Well, I understand getting high is supposed to feel nice –’
He stops me. ‘Drugs do three things when they’re inside you. First of all, they change your energy. So if you’re feeling uptight, they chill you out, or if you’re feeling tired, they give you a burst.’
I’m hyper-aware of how near we’re sitting, together on the car bonnet, when Harris leans closer. ‘Then the second thing they do, they make you feel good. Here, under your skin.’ He pulls his hand out of his pocket and runs a fingertip slowly from my thumb to my wrist. The way he looks at me, his light soft touch, brings my skin alive. He grins. ‘Like that.’
I can feel myself blushing. ‘What’s the third thing?’
‘The third thing is the most important.’ He uses the same finger to tap my temple gently. ‘They take away every doubt or fear or insecurity you ever had. Everybody’s got something unhappy inside ’em. Drugs seem to clear all that away. They make you feel like you’re the best person you ever imagined being. They make you feel like hot shit.’
He snorts softly, looks out at the river. I don’t know whether I agree with his ideas about drugs – I’ve heard too much about the reality, from Dad – but I want to keep Harris talking. I focus on the shifting grey water, the cold air, and remind myself we’re only huddled together for warmth.
‘But you’ve never…’ I have to work out how to say this. ‘You’ve tried them. And you obviously liked them.’
‘Yeah, sure.’
‘But you never got addicted.’
His hands are back in his pockets. ‘Well, I think you’ve gotta like them on all three levels to get hooked on them. That’s just my own opinion, mind you. I like the energy, and the feeling, but I can get that in other ways.’
‘What about the ‘getting rid of self-doubt’ part? That seems to me to be the most attractive thing about it.’
‘Sure. But hey, I like being self-doubting.’ He grins. ‘If I thought I was hot shit all the time I’d be kind of unbearable, I reckon. Being a bit insecure, it’s not such a bad thing.’
‘Really?’
He looks at me and his expression changes. ‘Being righteous is kind of a fucked up world-view. I only know one person with no self-doubt. Who thinks everything he does is completely justified.’
‘Your dad.’
