The Nowhere Girl

17. Who is the Nowhere Girl

"No, but I can guess. Look," I say, "Jay, if I'd known it was all real, I never would've intruded." He stares at me and the atmosphere shifts. His blue eyes look stale, and the bags under them seem darker. I close my eyes. I want to hug him, but I hold back.

Then Jason refills his glass, throws his head back, and downs the entire thing. He wipes his mouth on his jacket. "Your turn. Fess up."

"I..." Should I give him background information? Sure. Why not? "A couple months ago, Dad left, it was nobody's fault, but I blamed my mum. And look, I don't really care that Dad is gone, because he was always coming and going when me and Daz were kids. We used to hide under the table when they fought, but it didn't block the shouting. I think Dad has depression."

I struggle to keep my voice under control. I look down at my glass and take a sip. "So, basically in the dream, I said I was sorry for calling her a terrible mother and promised to come home, but she told me not to bother because I was selfish. She said I was like Dad."

Jason sips from the glass again, and he stares at me with bleary eyes. I think the alcohol is starting to go to his head. "Are you?"

I shrug and stare back at him, taking a sip myself. "I ran away, didn't I?" I say. "You know, I've run away before, but I always came back because I had a duty to my family, and annoying as Mum is, I want to go home, and I hate speaking badly about her. It's complicated." I'm probably going to die here in Gotham without ever getting to set things right.

Jason nudges my shoulder. His eyes burn into mine. "If that's how you feel, I think she knows you didn't mean it. You also don't have to go back if you don't want to, it's your choice, not hers."

I think about what I told Floyd in my letter; that love – in a semi functional family, at least – is unconditional.

"I do want to go back; I want to run the farm. There's a saying. The land is called the Never-Never, the Maluka loved to say, because they who have lived in it and loved it, Never-Never voluntarily leave it." I take another sip from my glass and refill it. I smile at Jason, but his eyes are closed and his head is tilted back so his face points at the ceiling.

Must be one of those nights.

I clear my throat and one of his eyes crack open. I put a hand on his shoulder, feeling the worn leather beneath my fingers, then the warmth of his skin as I cup his jaw. "Next time you have a nightmare, feel free to bust down my door like a SWAT Team if you need someone. You don't need to talk if you don't want to, and I'll give you my best shot at pep-talk."

Jason's lips twitch, and his other eye opens.

He sneaks an arm around my waist and tucks his head between my jaw and shoulder. I let him, because he's warm, and I place a kiss on his temple. His nose rubs against my neck, and I almost wish it was his lips instead, but I push that sentiment down. His breath is hot on my collar. His eyelashes tickle my neck when he closes his eyes. On instinct, I reach up and weave my fingers into his dark mop of hair. I twirl the white streak around my index finger. His hair's damp with sweat, and he smells like axe body spray, but I don't care. "Bad night for you too?"

"It's getting better," he says. I feel him smile against my neck. I shudder and set down my glass, content to just be for a while. I close my eyes and rest my head on top of his. "Tell me about your childhood?"

I sit back on my stool, removing myself from Jason's embrace. I smile and breathe out. "Imagine you're in the Pilbara, back in the mean old days when men were men and women were... sort of men too, rougher, hotter, brighter, redder. Imagine you are small. You have hair as red as the dirt you walk on. You don't realise it yet, but you are about to set out on one hell of an adventure.