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“Alright, girls. Let Ari go. Or the storms are going to catch her and Jimmy on their way to the coast.”
15
Ari—nine days later
Sweet or Spicy: What is your most favourite romantic scene in a movie or book, and why?
Ishambled into the pub, wiping my sweaty palms on my denim skirt.
Jet sat a table to the side, the pre-Valentine’s speed dating night in full swing all around him. Love hearts hung from the ceiling, and a pink, red and white balloon arch greeted patrons at the door. Mum had vomited Cupid everywhere in the Ballydoon pub, yet again.
My back ached. My legs ached. My shoulders ached. Pretty sure my hair ached.
But seeing him sitting at a table all by himself, head down and picking at the corner of a beer coaster, it was my heart that hurt the most.
I’d driven for nine days straight. Two flat tyres, roadworks everywhere, at least ten hours of driving a day, and some days more to make up for lost time dealing with the flat tyres andhold-ups. I almost cried seeing the retro Vegas-style Ballydoon sign on the highway and parked with a small screech of Bessie’s tyres at the Ballydoon pub.
Journey over.
And just in time.
I was a wreck. Stained tee shirt, denim skirt and thongs. Hair was a ratty mess.
This would be so much better if I could have a quick shower and get some new clothes.
It was then that Jet looked up. “Ari?” he called, standing up and striding towards me. Jet came to a halt in front of me, looking me up and down. “It’s really you. Are you wearing my tee shirt? From the first speed dating night?”
I bunched the hem in my fist. “Oh, yes. I found it after you left. So I stole it. Sorry.”
He huffed a laugh, but his smile faded. “You’re here.”
“Singles night. Wouldn’t miss it.”
He snorted and shoved his hands into his jeans’ pockets. “You’re back for the wedding.”
“That, and I’m here to meet someone special,” I continued. “Not a hook-up.”
“Someone special?” He eyed me warily.
I nodded. “Specifically, someone I need to apologise to. I’m hoping someone might give me a second chance.”
His nostrils flared.
“I drove for nine days. I’m back. The road trip is over.”
Still, Jet said nothing.
“I prepared questions along the way.” I hastily pulled four slightly warped postcards from my back pocket from Karratha, Wudinna, Broken Hill and Narrabri. Jet stared at the postcards in my trembling hands. “I bought a postcard every time I stopped for petrol on my way here and wrote a question on each.I couldn’t send them because I wanted to make sure I had them when I got here.”
He looked up, his eyes fierce and sad—no, something else.Hope. My heart soared. I had to do this right. Everything came down to these four cards.
“K-karratha question.” My voice wavered. “Do you believe in second chances?”
Something changed in his eyes: they were softer, a sparkle. “For the right person, I do.”
I nodded.Fuck, was I the right person?“Good, good. Okay. Wudinna question.” I flipped over the photo of the second largest rock in Australia after Uluru and read my scrawl. “I looked at the moon and the stars every night I was on the road and thought of you. Wudinna was the last clear night I had. Did you look into the night sky and think of me?”
He took a half step closer. “Every night, Ari.”
