Rohan had never understood Kim at school. She was nice-looking and friendly enough and she could have had—well, maybe notanyone,but a decent choice. But all she’d seemed interested in was getting herself worked up over Charlie Raco. Charlie, who didn’t get worked up about her in the same way. Charlie, who would bicker and argue with her over nothing. Who would talk bullshit and joke around with his mates at a bushland party while his girlfriend got so drunk she could barely stand long enough to walk off. The big love story of their year, and Charlie hadn’t even noticed her leave.
Rohan had noticed, though. Kim had been sitting on her own for a while, and he’d been nursing a beer and debating whether to go over when she’d risen unsteadily and staggered away from the campfire. She’d disappeared through the trees and into the dark, and he’d watched the empty space left behind, waiting for her to come back. A minute passed, and then another, and so he’d stood and followed, because it probably wasn’t too safe for Kim to be walking home in that state. He’d caught up with her easily, then immediately wondered why he’d bothered. Kim had been crying hard, mumbling nonstop about Charlie. Rambling, incoherent rubbish. To shut her up more than anything, Rohan had found a tissue and helped her wipe her eyes and she’d seemed so grateful that he’d done it again, running his thumbs over her flushed cheeks until they were completely dry.
They’d walked a little way together, Kim lurching and sloppy, and Rohan had put his arm around her to keep her steady. He’d half expected her to push it away, but she didn’t seem to notice or care, so he’dleft it there. Was it even possible, he’d wondered, that she was doing it on purpose? Letting her hip bounce off his as she staggered, gripping his hand in her own sweaty palm? Rohan had still been considering that, when Kim had suddenly stopped, freezing in a dead halt on the track. He’d been able to tell from her face what was coming.
“Quick, this way,” he’d said, and Kim had clamped her mouth shut and let him lead her off the track and deeper into the trees. She’d braced one hand against a trunk, and leaned over just in time as she retched and then vomited. Rohan had stepped back so it didn’t splash on his shoes. He’d waited, and Kim’s eyes had been bloodshot and watery when she’d straightened up. She’d taken a single swaying step back toward the path, before Rohan had reached out and caught her elbow.
“Take a minute,” he’d said, guiding Kim instead to the ground. “There’s no rush.”
He’d sat down next to her, her weight slumped against his shoulder and her skirt bunched right up around her thighs. Rohan had looked at that hem for a full minute, waiting for her to pull it down. She didn’t move.
“Do you want me to straighten your skirt for you, Kim?” he’d said finally. When he’d looked over, her eyes were closed now. She didn’t reply.
“Yes?” he’d asked.
Kim had murmured something.
“Okay.” Rohan leaned closer.
She’d been so floppy it had been impossible to keep her sitting upright, so he’d taken her by the shoulders and laid her on the ground.
“Relax.”
Her bare legs had been warm and smooth under his palms. He’d run his hands along them, and as he’d moved, he’d gazed down at her. Eyes shut, vomit in her hair. Her top had twisted up, exposing a broad slice of smooth skin. He’d moved his hands again, tracing patterns with his fingers across her body. One way, then back again and—Rohan had stopped.
Someone was coming.
He’d listened closely. Footsteps were tramping along the path, a flashlight beam flashing all over the place. He’d heard a girl clear her throat, and it had felt like a personal insult. Naomi. Of course it bloody was. Making sure her presence was acknowledged at every possible opportunity. Rohan had gotten to his feet as quietly as he could. He’d glanced down. Kim had looked terrible, lying there like that in her own vomit. If Naomi caught them, she’d get the wrong impression entirely. Rohan had hesitated, then hastily hauled Kim up into a seated position, propping her against the tree trunk. Her head lolled, and her face was slack.
Naomi was closer now, so he’d taken a few fast steps, ducking behind a large eucalyptus tree. Rohan had pressed his shoulder tight against the trunk before peering around.
Naomi had come into sight, marching along the path, and for a moment it had seemed like she would pass right by. Then the flashlight swinging from her hand had gone still. The beam had doubled back. In the harsh white cone of light, Kim was slumped against the tree like a deadweight.
For a second, nothing moved. Then the flashlight beam slid away from Kim, shaking as it reluctantly tracked across the expanse of dark bushland. Rohan had held his breath. The rush of blood in his ears mingled with the distant thumping undercurrent of music. But the accusing, reproachful shout he’d been waiting for hadn’t come.
When he’d worked up the nerve to peer out again, Naomi had still been frozen on the spot. The light from her flashlight had been almost bouncing in her unsteady hands. Okay. So she wasn’t about to point the beam his way, stride into the trees, and give him a piece of her mind, Rohan had realized. Not even close. He’d felt a bubble of amusement rise. Naomi was completely freaked out.
“Kim?” Naomi’s voice had been barely more than a whisper. No response. She had glanced one way, then the other, fast and furtive.
Jesus.Rohan had held in a lungful of air, anticipation rising.She’s going to leave her here.Righteous, bossy, judgmental Naomi wanted to run away.
“Kim?” The girl’s voice had been almost swallowed by the bushland. “Seriously. Can you get up?” Another fast glance down the path.
Do it, Naomi,Rohan had silently encouraged.Run home. Go on. No one will know.
The night air had seemed to quiver with indecision, then suddenly Naomi made a low noise in her throat. She’d stepped swiftly off the path and started trampling fast and noisily through the undergrowth toward Kim.
Rohan had watched, with equal parts surprise and irritation. He hadn’t thought Naomi had it in her. Neither had she, judging by the look on her face.
Naomi had been swearing, a rapid stream of whispered words as she’d grabbed Kim and pulled, her hands rough, using whatever leverage she could to drag her up.
“Move, Kim. Now. Or you’re on your own. I swear to God. I’m sorry, but I’m not staying out here. Move now.”
The urgency seemed to stir Kim, and she had struggled to her feet at last, allowing herself to be pulled toward the track.
Clear of the bushland and back on firmer ground, Naomi had put her arm around Kim, then paused mid-movement. Still breathing heavily, she’d run the flashlight over the other girl again, more slowly this time. Lingering on the vomit in Kim’s hair, her twisted top, her rucked-up skirt. Rohan had watched from behind the tree with an odd fascination as Naomi had for a moment become eerily calm. She had taken a breath, then reached out with gentle, careful hands and fixed Kim’s clothes.
“It’s okay,” she’d whispered. “I’ve got you now. I’ll take you home.”
