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We’re a tangle of wet limbs and hungry mouths and urgent hands and soft moans. It’s all over far too quickly, but neither of us had the restraint to finish any other way. It’s enough, yet I want more of her. I don’t tell her that, though, because she doesn’t need to feel any more torn than she does. The conversation is futile. Instead, we lie in the sun, shoulder to shoulder, watching the clouds pass overhead, until she inevitably rolls to face me and says, ‘I have to go.’
She kisses me for a full minute before getting to her feet. ‘At least our shoes are dry.’
I walk her back to the bridge and realise I don’t want her to leave. This is new territory for me. She mustn’t want to leave either, because she doesn’t cross.
‘Did you like today?’ she asks, looking up at me.
I’m drowning in those eyes. ‘Sure. Except for the bit where you jumped in without me.’
She smiles. ‘You don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself in the water.’
‘What about out of the water?’
She opens her mouth to answer but doesn’t get the chance to.
‘Annie?’ comes a voice.
Her head whips in the direction of the water. On the other side of the creek, her mum stands holding a bypass lopper, looking thoroughly confused.
Annie takes a hurried step back from me, almost tripping over her own feet in the process. I don’t reach for her, don’t dare touch her.
‘Mum.’
Dawn looks between us, her confusion melting into suspicion. ‘What are you doing over there?’
It takes Annie a beat too long to come up with an answer. ‘I was just chatting to Hunter about exams.’
She’s a terrible liar. Her voice is too high, and she can’t keep her hands still.
Dawn looks her daughter up and down. ‘Why are you wet?’
‘She fell off the swing,’ I say. I can tell a lie just fine. ‘My attempt to help wasn’t overly successful, as you can see.’ I gesture to my own wet clothes.
Dawn stares at me—hard.
‘I should go,’ I say, looking back at Annie. ‘Good luck next week.’
She nods. ‘You too.’
I turn away, and under no circumstances do I look back.
