Page 63 of Head First
That trip was where our love of marine biology was born. Millie swam the whole time with her waterproof cast, awkwardly squeezing into life jackets and paddling with one arm, logging every fish she saw into a dive book.
That trip was where I realised I could do things on my own, without my sister. When I realised that when I did things that made Millie proud, usually I made myself proud too.
Millie hasn’t stopped pushing me, although now she pushes me to try a new book club or sign up for an online class. But, I realise, somewhere between now and then, I seem to have stopped believing her. I started to feel like Millie was my younger sister instead of my older one. I cheered her on and encouraged her to take up space but forgot to do the same for myself. I forgot that I could shine just as brightly as she can. As much as I feel like it’s her fault for taking up space, I let her do it. I forgot what it feels like to make myself proud and make her proud along the way.
Pippa is right, I can’t keep holding myself back. I can’t keep worrying about what other people think. If Florida was any indication, maybe being myself will work out. But no matter what happens, it’s time to tell Hugh the truth. I picture broaching the topic with him, being more vulnerable than I ever have, admitting that I did something wrong, and I know that I will be proud of myself if I have the hard conversation. Millie would be proud of me too. There’s just one last consideration needling at my subconscious.
I know Hugh well enough by now to know that he won’t use this to sabotage Millie’s career . . . right?
Chapter 24
We pop out of the cluster of mangroves and arrive at a deserted beach on the south side of the island. I make my way over to Hugh, but he avoids me, ducking into a conversation with Natalie again. We make eye contact just as he sits down next to her. He looks away, but not before his mouth flattens into a thin line. I grit my teeth with exasperation. I know he’s hurt, but I don’t know how to figure out what to do next if I can’t even talk to him . . . How am I supposed to decide whether to tell him the truth?
We lounge around the beach and stick our feet in the water, only relaxing for twenty minutes before Vanessa ushers us along. We head down a different path towards a paved road where a large white van waits for us.
‘Everyone in,’ she says, ushering us into seats.
Our driver’s name is Alana. She’s either really excited to see people or she’s really good at her job, because she gives us a warm, enthusiastic welcome as she drives us to the top of the mountain. She describes the history of Fitzroy Island, how it used to be a part of the mainland, how the trail we were on before and the road we are using now are relics from when the island was used as a lookout location during World War II. She chatters about the turtle sanctuary, how she and her team take a boat out from the mainland every morning, how they have no access to anything but a radio if they need to call for help.
When Andrew asks if she likes working in such a remote environment, she laughs. ‘Sometimes I really want to be able to order a pizza for lunch,’ she says, ‘but there’s nothing like being surrounded by nature.’
When we reach the peak, we climb out of the van and Alana herds us to a giant rock, where we have a panoramic view of the island. Crystal blue water stretches out in all directions. We can see both the beach whereCoral Sea Dreamingis docked and the private cove we had walked to earlier. The turtle sanctuary is at the opposite end of the island, we can just make out the white roof of the building from our perch.
I scramble around the rock and go stand next to Hugh, but he’s talking to Alana about turtles. He’s listening to her intently, his sandy hair mussed from the wind that’s rippling over the mountaintop. She’s so passionate about it that there isn’t a moment to cut in, and she talks non-stop until we are all back in the van and heading to the place she calls her office. Although every time she says ‘office’ she giggles, like she’s part of an inside joke. I’m envious of her passion for her work, and I find myself daydreaming about the possibility of having a job where I was so removed from corporate America that I didn’t even have the option to walk with Bella to get bubble tea.
When we arrive, Alana walks us through a series of outdoor tanks, each one bigger than the last, home to a vast array of sea turtles, some small and some massive.
The sanctuary rescues turtles from everywhere around the Great Barrier Reef, up to hundreds of miles away, responding to distress calls from boats or volunteers who see turtles in need of help. Their team nurses the turtles back to health and releases them back into the wild.
We cluster around a tank, home to a turtle named Sparkle, and listen to Alana explain Sparkle’s journey to the centre and her expected release back into the wild. Hugh is standing next to Natalie during Alana’s speech, and I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from him.
I catch Pippa raising her eyebrows at me and stifling a laugh. I edge closer to her, and she elbows me in the ribs. ‘If you talked to him,’ she says, ‘you wouldn’t have to keep your distance.’
I roll my eyes, but I’m grateful to have at least someone to share my feelings with. ‘I’m trying,’ I say. ‘He’s avoiding me.’
‘You know what I’m going to say.’
‘I don’t know what you’re going to say,’ I disagree.
‘It’s pretty hard to avoid someone when you’re sharing a teeny bedroom . . . You know if you do have that conversation, you should also invite Hugh to come with us on our waterfall tour when we get back to Cairns, spend some proper time together away from the fish.’
‘I don’t know even know if I’m going on that tour,’ I point out.
‘Let’s be real, Millie,’ Pippa says sternly, her blonde hair swinging around her face. ‘You have nothing better to do.’
Lunch is a simple picnic set up around fold-out tables at the sanctuary. Alana passes out pamphlets explaining where our money would go if we were to donate. I tuck mine into my back pocket. Contributing to a cause like this isn’t a bad idea. I could gift a monthly contribution to Millie for Christmas.
Everyone tucks into lunch, but I hardly have any appetite. People take turns asking Alana questions about the sanctuary, and we all listen to her talk about it, fascinated by her life and her work. I notice that Hugh leaves a half-eaten sandwich on his plate too.
The rest of the afternoon passes by in a blur. We go to the beach, where Vanessa says we’re free to spend the rest of the afternoon, and I spend close to an hour trying to approach Hugh and losing my courage. He’s either talking to Andrew or he sees me coming and walks in the opposite direction. Miguel has started surfing the shallow waves breaking near the beach and keeps trying to get me to join him, hollering at me from his perch in the ocean.
It’s only when Natalie walks up to Hugh and they start to chat, both of them standing ankle deep in the calm water, gazing out at the horizon, that I get the nerve to address him.
‘Hugh, can I talk to you?’ I say quickly, forcing the words out of my mouth before I lose my nerve.
Hugh looks at Natalie, who spins to face me. ‘Perfect,’ she says, ‘just who I wanted to talk to.’
‘Actually—’ I squirm ‘—I was hoping to talk to Hugh . . . alone . . .’
