Page 56 of His Secret Obsession

At the sound of Natalie’s voice, I almost jump a metre into the air. I slam the diary shut and shove it deep back into the drawer. Thankfully, when I turn around, Natalie isn’t paying attention to me. She’s folding the winter jackets into neat squares.

“I hear it gets really cold in Melbourne during the winters,” she says. “Lucas says it isn’t bad at the moment, but it’s still only autumn. I thought I might as well send these jackets with you, since I doubt Lucas will visit before uni break. I always ask him to visit, but he says he’s busy. Well, I suppose it is a long drive…”

I nod along to whatever Natalie’s saying, trying to act like my heart isn’t racing. In my mind, I imagine high school Lucas. The way he’d tilt his chin up arrogantly so he could look down at me, eyes filled with nothing but contempt.

I feel ill. I knew he didn’t like me, but…

I’m thankful when Natalie leads me out of Lucas’s room, both of us holding a box. Even if I had a chance to swipe Lucas’s diary, I wouldn’t. And no, it’s not because of my conscience. Fuck my conscience. Fuck being decent. Fuck Lucas.

No, I wouldn’t take it because I never want to read that thing again.

*

It’s late afternoon by the time Jemima drops me off at the Melbourne apartment. The streets are quiet, yellow sunlight stretching above the silver skyscrapers.

My bones feel as if they’re made of lead as I walk down the hallway to the apartment, two boxes of Lucas’s things stacked in my arms. When I arrive at our door, I drop the boxes on the ground, and after I unlock the door, I shove them inside with my foot.

It’s silent in the apartment. No footsteps, no rustle of movement. The front door slams shut behind me.

I enter Lucas’s room. He’s not here. The bed has been made and I reach out to touch the black cotton, then snatch my hand back at the last moment.

Where is he? I know his schedule well enough that most Sundays, he’s at home, studying like crazy in preparation for the next week.

I call him, and the phone rings and rings and rings, but no answer. Because I already have my phone out, I try Cleo. She doesn’t pick up. I’m not surprised.

I look at the messages I’ve sent her.

Charlie: Hey, can you call me back?

Charlie: Cleo, please call me.

Charlie: It’s urgent.

Charlie: Call me back.

Charlie: Please.

Charlie: Where are you?

Charlie: Cleo.

Charlie: Did I do something wrong?

Charlie: Did I upset you?

Charlie: Talk to me.

Charlie: Please.

Charlie: I’m sorry for whatever I did, just can you please call me back, please.

Charlie: Are you upset with me?

Charlie: Can you tell me where you are?

Charlie: Please call me back.

I don’t bother typing out another message. Instead, I tap on Hugo's phone number. It rings and rings and rings, but he doesn’t pick up. I call Gilly, and he doesn’t pick up either.

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