The morning light shines through the front windows of the Sandman van, creating a warm glow through the curtains. My mouth and my eyes are dry. My head is slightly achy. I check my limbs, not sure if I'm supposed to feel any different after what Finn and I did. Not sure if I'll look different to Finn and everyone when they see me. It's weird. I'm the same apart from the sting of stubble rash around my mouth and the weird sensation of not being sure what I'm supposed to think or feel right now.
A noise behind my head makes me jump. Clutching the sleeping bag around my chin I turn around and slide the curtain open a little. A parking ticket is being slotted under the windscreen wiper.
Finn is on his side, fast asleep, beside me. His eyelashes are brushed closed and he looks peaceful. A brief image of the picture of his dad with the singer from Silent Moth pops into my head. I wonder what Finn will look like when he's the same age as his dad. Whether he'll be a puffy version of his eighteen year-old-self or if he'll stay lean and healthy.
But, as I wake up, I realise I can't afford to be wondering about Finn twenty years from now. What we did last night was idiotic. I have to go to a chemist. Right now. I have to make sure this doesn't turn into something bigger than it needs to be.
Trying to be as quiet as I can, I prise open my bag; grab clean clothes. Finn murmurs and turns away from me, drawing the sleeping bag tight around his shoulders. I tug on fresh underwear and jeans and a fresh t-shirt. My armpits waft up at me. I really need a shower.
I push on Finn's shoulder a little bit; whisper his name. When he opens his eyes, he smiles up at me and murmurs "Hey," then he sees the look on my face.
"I need to find a chemist," I say, searching inside my bag for my wallet. "Right now." The money I took from Ben's wallet flutters out and I grab it; shove it in my pocket.
Finn rubs his eyes with his fists; scratches his fingers through his hair and sits up. It takes him a few moments to fully realise what I'm saying.
"Did we ... yeah, right. Fuck." I see his expression change as the whole night comes back to him; then it dawns on him too, that what we did—while it was sweet and special—wasn't the cleverest thing to do.
"Exactly."
"I'll come with you, J. What time is it? We'll get brekkie, yeah?" he says.
"I love how the morning after pill and breakfast are the same priority level for you," I laugh.
"Well, they both involve sausages and eggs, right?" Finn chuckles and pushes the sleeping bag down to his waist then pauses when we both realise he's naked.
"Speaking of sausages..." I find his boxers behind me and toss them at him.
"Grow up, J," he smirks and I'm so relieved what happened last night hasn't changed how we are with each other.
While he dresses, I turn my phone on. It takes a while to load and as soon as it does the battery percentage goes down to five. I consider texting Minda the news, but I don't want to. If she doesn't approve of me stealing the van, she definitely won't approve of me getting it on with Finn the first time I ever kiss him. And I want to make sure I get everything sorted out at the chemist first then I can relax about it. It's eight in the morning. I turn my phone off before it has a chance to download any new messages or calls.
We're so busy getting ready that neither of us realise someone is knocking on the back door of the van until the handle turns and sunlight streams in as the door lifts up.
"Can we help you?" Finn grins, tugging his t-shirt down.
A woman stands outside the van holding a small fair-haired kid on her hip. The kid has one finger in his mouth and he's resting his cheek on her shoulder staring at us with big, blank grey eyes. She jiggles up and down on the spot waving a piece of paper at us.
"I'm sorry to wake you but I didn't want you to get a parking fine," she says, still jiggling the kid. "I was going to give it to you last night but there was no one home."
"It's too late," I say.
Finn glances over his shoulder, sees the paper on the windscreen and swears under his breath.
"Ah, well, here" —the woman leans across to me and waves the paper at me again— "chuck that on your windscreen for now. Then you won't get another one."
I shuffle down the end of the van and take the paper from her. It's a visitor parking permit for Three Bliss Street. I hand it back to Finn who goes up front to stick it on the dashboard.
I look up at the woman. She's got thick blonde hair like mine but in a neat, sharp bob unlike my unwieldy mass. Blue eyes surrounded by dark eyelashes. An angled face. Arches for eyebrows. She's wearing exercise gear. Not K-Mart leggings and a t-shirt like Mum wears. Proper designed and branded gear. She looks fit. Healthy. My thoughts start to whirr. Something seems familiar about her. But not. She peers back at me while she jogs the baby on her hip. She has her phone in her other hand but she's not saying anything, only staring at me with curious eyes.
"Uh ... I'm Jenna," I say while I zip up my backpack and shuffle down to get out of the van, dragging it with me. "This is Finn," I say waving back at Finn who's hurriedly tying his shoes.
"I know who you are." The woman smiles. Wide, white teeth. "It's so great to finally meet you, Jenna. I'm Claire."
My thoughts are really whirring now. As I stand up straight next to her, she wraps her free arm around me, and my face is squashed between hers and the kid's head. She holds me tight. It's awkward. It's weird. I have nowhere to put my hands, so I stay stiff. I smell her laundry-clean smell and the baby-milk smell of the kid. When Claire lets me go, I see her eyes are wet. Then she sniffs and I see her nose crinkle. I'm not sure if it's because we really stink or if she's holding something back. I take it that we stink. I can smell my own underarms and it's not great.
"Did you guys sleep in Ben's van last night?" Claire asks.
"Yeah." Finn's next to us now, yawning, stretching his arms up, twisting his torso around. He glances quickly at me and his neck's gone red. "It was pretty comfy actually."
"I'm sorry," Claire says. "I wish I'd known you were out here."
I don't say anything. I wouldn't change what happened last night for the world.
"This is Paddy. Patrick." Claire kisses the blonde top of the little boy's head and he stares at us with his huge eyes, sucking his finger. She waves at the house with her phone and steps towards the gate. "Please. Come inside. I've got breakfast if you're hungry? And a shower?"
We obviously smell.
"Uh ..." I have no idea who this person is. I know she's important. I also know I need to get to a chemist.
Claire must have sensed my confusion because as she pushes open the front gate, she turns back to us and we haven't moved. "It's okay, Ben's told me everything."
I check in with Finn. He slams the back of the van closed and waits for me.
"That's funny," I say as I decide it's okay to follow Claire inside the house. "He hasn't told us anything."
Claire mustn't've heard me because she turns back to me as we head down the narrow hallway and says, "Tea? Coffee?"
"I'd kill for a coffee," Finn calls to her over my shoulder. "I didn't mean ... I'm not ... a murderer or anything ..."
Claire laughs. "I hope not."
The wooden floorboards are bright and fresh, and we pass the main bedroom with its comfy-looking double bed and crisp white doona, then a child's bedroom with colourful letters stuck all over the walls. Toys are dotted along the hall and Claire kicks them to the side as we pass.
The hallway opens out onto a modern open plan kitchen and living area then bi-fold doors open onto a tiny courtyard. It's all white and new and fresh. But full of books and toys and cushions and plants. It's like I've walked into a design catalogue.
"Your house is cool," Finn says, peering around at everything. I have to agree. It's so light and bright and fresh. Totally opposite to the ad-hoc state of Mum's house.
"We've literally only finished renovating," Claire says, putting her phone onto the gleaming stone benchtop. "It was hard with Chris working a hundred hours a day."
"Who's Chris?" I ask, wondering if Chris is someone I should be paying attention to. I search the room for photos but there are none.
"My husband - he's in I.T." Claire puts Paddy down on the floor and he grabs onto her leg, still staring at us with his fist in his mouth. "Trying to do a reno with this one was a nightmare."
"How old's this little fella?" Finn asks, dropping to his knees in front of Paddy.
"Nearly eighteen months."
"Hey, Paddy." Finn tickles at the toddler's round tummy then turns to me. "Cute, huh Jenna?"
I don't say anything but my face reddens. It's ironic we're here with a toddler when the most important thing to me right now — even more important than asking Claire a million questions about who the hell she is and who Chris is — is getting to a chemist to get the morning after pill. I can't even begin to work out how I'm going to get it now. Whoever Claire is, I'm not exactly keen to make her first impression of me the one where I rush off to the chemist because I had sex for the first time without a condom.
Paddy huddles back behind Claire's leg even more.
"He'll get used to you," Claire says. She picks Paddy back up and rests him on her hip while she presses the kettle on, starts opening cupboards, filling up the coffee machine, all with one hand. "I've got all kinds of tea. Coffee. Finn? Maybe you guys want a shower first?"
"Take a shower, J," Finn smiles at me.
"Towels are" —Claire frowns— "they should be in the bathroom cupboard. Otherwise there's a pile on my bed to be put away. Help yourself to anything you need. Ben said you didn't bring much. Make yourselves at home."
"Okay, thanks. Claire." Her name seems weird coming out of my mouth.
I head back down the hall and find the bathroom door. Push it open. Like the kitchen, it's all brand-new shiny tiles and posh fittings. I check the cupboard which is full of designer toiletries but empty of towels. I head to the main bedroom and step inside. I'm dirty next to all the lavish white linen. A pile of folded towels rests on a grey velvet chair and, as I step into the room towards them, I see some photo frames on the bedside table.
Maybe Chris will be in the pictures.
I head over and pick up the closest one—it's in a silver frame— and sit down on the bed.
Claire is in the picture, from a long time ago. She has long hair falling way past her shoulders. She's dressed in an oversized pink windcheater and jeans with her head tilted to the side. Next to her is a man—no, a young guy—about my age—with the same long blonde hair, falling down past his shoulders. He's wearing a black Silent Moth t-shirt and has his arm around Claire. He's squeezing her to him as they laugh at the camera; laugh at whomever is taking the photo.
And they look the same. Brother and sister. They must be twins. The have the same hair. The same broad smile. The same —
Then I see it.
My heart flies around in my chest.
I bring the photo up close to my eyes to see if I can make it clearer.
To make sure.
I'm sure.
The same wrist band Ben gave me is wrapped around the guy's wrist.
I hold my wrist up to the picture.
The zigzag pattern is the same.
The colour is the same.
I know who this is.
I know who this is.
I'm shaking.
I'm shaking so much.
I can hardly breathe. I'm underwater like the kid in the pool, gasping for breath, my chest tight; constricted.
"Claire..." I whisper even though my insides are screaming. I try to breathe; choke to get air inside me. "Claire?" I cough as my eyes start to burn with tears. "Finn?" I'm hoarse and not getting enough air in. Flashes of that kid in the pool fill my mind. His flailing hands. His panicked wide eyes. Not enough air. Not enough air. I grip the photo frame tight because I don't want to let it go even though I'm drowning. I don't want to lose it – lose him. I hold the frame to my stomach and my hands shake so fast that I have to press the frame in hard because I know what this means and I don't ever want to let it go.
I don't even realise Claire is beside me with her arm around me until she speaks.
"It's okay, Jenna. It's okay. I'm here." She brushes my hair down. "Breathe. Just breathe." She' wraps her arms around me; pulls me to her and I go all out and can't stop. I sob; gasp into her fancy designer gym gear, sniffing and snivelling and trying to hold myself together. But she's here. I'm safe. Her arms are around me. When I close my eyes all I can see is his face. His face and his hair and his eyes. My face. My hair. My eyes.
He's here. I know it's him. I know it.
"Jenna, beautiful Jenna," Claire pushes me back; holds my hair out of my face and she's got tears in her eyes as she looks deep into mine. "I have so many things to tell you about him."