I didn’t push. She probably meant her revenge plans. Now that she and Jake are over I assumed they were fully back on. But with The Fratellis blaring and the last of the day’s sunshine streamingthrough the windows, I didn’t have the strength to wade into that mess and shatter the tiny bubble of protection we’d formed around us.
Only now alone in a bed that isn’t mine, the bubble has well and truly burst. The mice aren’t the real problem—they’re just a scuttling symptom. My real issue is the two-story-tall building, full of booze, and losing money faster than I can plug the leaks. I’ve got enough in my savings to survive the shutdown, but what then? Who wants to drink in a bar with a mouse problem?
I unplug my phone from my charger and type inNursing jobs Auckland city.Nothing in pediatrics pops up. On a whim, I check the Pukekohe area box. My heart pulses as a job appears. They need a full-time primary care nurse at Pukekohe Family Health, and the starting salary issix figures. I prefer pediatrics to perinatal care, but I’m qualified for it, and right now I’m having a hard time thinking about anything besides what I could do with a wage that high.
And it’s in Pukekohe.Will and I would be living in the same town again...
A hot blush spreads over my face, but I get to enjoy its warmth, before a fresh problem rises to the top of my mind. A tall, dark, handsome,pushyproblem. A problem that hasn’t called or texted since he stormed out of Afterglow.
There’s a muffled bang to my right, followed by a low curse. Ada’s awake.
Grateful for the interruption, I click the button to have the nursing job application emailed to me. Sliding out of the unfamiliar sheets, I pull on the complimentary robe and step onto our shared balcony. Sure enough, Ada’s leaning against the guardrail, vaping, her dark hair tucked into a pink silk bonnet.
“So it begins,” she greets me, white vapor curling around her face—a soldier staring down an impossible battle.
I step beside Ada, pressing my bathrobe-clad shoulder against hers. She wordlessly hands me her ice-mint ElfBar, and we stand side by side in the milky dawn, vaping andwatching the houses blink awake.
We’re staying at Nikau Palms, one of the two decent hotels in town. It’s a bit dated, but I’ve always loved it. The restaurant downstairs is where I had all my teenage birthday dinners. Our whole family on our best behaviour under the chandeliers and white linen napkins. It was a far cry from family dinners at home—Mum and Dad distracted with work as Tristan stomped through the kitchen in his muddy boots, yelling about someone playing like they had feet for hands.
Nikau Palms always reminded me of a castle, being the tallest building in town. Four floors, with thick Grecian columns out the front. We’re on the highest level, and as I squint across the horizon, I can just make out Silverlight Estate, the newer, flashier hotel at the edge of Pukekohe. It’s all glass, white walls and chrome. The kind of place that feels cold, no matter how expensive it is. The reunion party is happening in its ballroom, and most of our out-of-town ex-classmates are staying there.
Ada points to the far east. “Look, it’s Thrasher’s tin-pot empire.”
I follow her finger to the gates of Thompson Farms. Even in semi-darkness, I can see the tall fences topped with curls of spiked wire.
“Why would a kiwifruit farm need a boundary line like that?” Ada says, reading my mind.
A shiver slides down my spine. It’s good to be home, but the town I know better than the back of my hand feels almost secretive in the dawn light. Like it’s holding its breath as it quietly gathers its resources to do…
What exactly?
When we’ve sucked in enough nicotine juice to turn our blood mint-flavoured, Ada tucks her vape into her pocket. “Should we prep for the initial showdown?”
We’ve both planned to see our parents this morning before the first centenary events, but the look in her eyes says she’s thinking about something more sinister than having coffee with her mum and dad. I think of her notebook full of handwritten plans and shove aside the urge to ask exactly what she means. Right now, I need to focus on what I can control. Like my bikini line.
“Sure,” I say. “Do you want to shower first? I’m gonna be a while.”
“You go, I’ll order breakfast. What would you like?”
“I’m fine,” I lie. I can’t afford room service. “I’ll eat at Mum and Dad’s.”
Ada narrows her eyes. “No dice. I’m paying, and you’re having a massive breakfast. You need to line your stomach.”
I grin at her. In her robe and bonnet, I see the sassy little nonna she’ll be one day. I picture the two of us chattering away in my kitchen, Ada forcing me to eat while I force her to lay off whatever nicotine product they’ve invented fifty years from now. The image fades along with my smile as I realise it’s another dream that might never come to pass. I’m more than likely going back to nursing, and whatever Ada’s plans are, I can’t imagine they’ll keep her in Auckland once I’m?—
“Cece!” Ada half-shouts. “Earth to hot slut?”
I jump. “Sorry, vape spins.”
“Hmm,” she says, eyeing me suspiciously. “You need to consume huge quantities of carbs.”
Ada flops onto my uncomfortable couch and scans the room service menu while I slip into the bedroom, rummaging for disposable wax strips and whatever courage I can find. Mum and Dad are going to want to know all about Afterglow, and I’ve never been a good liar.
“Not much of a bar owner either,” I mutter, warming a pink strip between my palms. “God, please, let them be nice.”
The food’s arrived by the time I’m finished violating my feminism and pain threshold in equal measure. I find Ada at the table, sitting in front of a plate but not eating. She’s dragging a fork through her omelette, her eyes sad and far away. The sadness has been in permanent residence since she finished things with Jake. My chest aches. I hope to God he’s not coming this weekend. Ada can put on a brave face better than anyone, but she’s still bleeding inside. Another thing I can’t fix.
She looks up and I yank on a smile. “Mybikini line is officially wrangled.”
