Page 34 of Reluctant Chemistry

Luka flopped back on his bed and watched the ceiling fan spin. He’d been starving when he arrived home from work. Now he couldn’t even rouse himself to check out the fridge.

“Shit!”

* * *

Her father looked up from the newspaper when CeCe walked in the door. “You’re home early. Decide not to stay in town tonight?”

“Nah, I need an early night.”

“Are you ready for school on Monday?”

CeCe sat at the table. “About that… I’m not sure I’ll make it back to school.”

“Not this again.” Frank leafed over the last page of the newspaper. The seconds ticked by. He stood, folded the paper, and placed it on the sideboard. “Your mother and I are going into town to see a movie. We can talk about this tomorrow. I won’t have my evening out ruined by your lack of insight. You’re a bright girl, Sydney. Don’t throw it all away because you can’t be bothered to make a difference in your own life.”

Sydney?

“But—”

He held up both hands for her to stop, then turned on his heel and stalked out the back door without another word.

Her mother appeared from their bedroom with a necklace in her hands. “Put this on for me, will you, sweetheart?” She held it out to CeCe. “How was work?”

CeCe fastened the clasp. “Okay.”

Craning her neck, Andrea peered into the adjoining media room. “Where’s that father of yours? We’re going to be late.”

“In the car. I told him I didn’t want to go back to school, and he called me Sydney.”

“Oh dear.”

“Yep. I guess I’d better wash and press my uniform.”

“It’s done. I did it this morning.” Her mother smiled softly and opened her arms wide. CeCe stepped into her knowing embrace. Some of her friends never hugged their parents, but the Dobson clan had always been big on physical affection. “Thanks, Mum. Have a good night. I’m sorry I’ve been such hard work lately.”

Her mother patted her on the back and chuckled. “It’s just a stage. You’ll grow out of it.”

The heat of the evening cloying in its closeness,CeCe lay on her bed, the French doors open to the veranda. Across the lawn, hundreds of avocado trees spread their green-leaved branches in all directions, and outside her bedroom door, petunias sulked in their pots, desperate for a drink of water. She’d do that soon, but for now, she just wanted to mope.

In the back of her mind, CeCe had known her fling with Luka would be short-lived. Such was the nature of the beast. And, as Miss Libby had pointed out, sometimes life was unkind.

Her phone pinged. She picked it up and glanced at the screen.

Luka:We should talk before school starts. Text me a time and I’ll make sure I’m here.

CeCe threw it down on the bed and went outside to water her plants. She wanted to text back a simpleWhy?But what was the point? He’d made his decision, and his reasons were sound, no matter how much she might wish they weren’t.

She dreaded the thought of seeing Luka at school every day. He’d dress in smart casual, carry a messenger bag, and probably coach rugby or soccer or some other sport. He’d be popular with the guys, but even more so with the girls. Because Luka had a charm about him that couldn’t be denied, and the few times they’d been together in public—at the burger bar and the library—she’d noticed how women watched him.

She grabbed her phone again and ran her fingers over the keypad.

CeCe:Let’s not draw this out. Sometimes talking is overrated.

Luka:So is doing the right thing.

CeCe:Roll on Easter.

Worried that he might misinterpret her meaning, CeCe reread her last text and cringed. She went to send an additional message of explanation but stopped herself. Back and forth communication on a tiny screen annoyed her.

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