Page 72 of Head First
I try to call my mom, desperate for answers, but it’s the middle of the night and she doesn’t pick up. The backs of my legs stick to the leather vinyl. I would usually dread getting on a fourteen-hour flight without a shower, but now it seems like the least of my problems.
‘I’m sorry about Millie,’ Hugh says, as the car pulls away from the kerb. His voice catches as he says Millie’s name.
‘I’m scared,’ I whisper. My voice breaks on the last word.
Hugh squeezes my hand.
After a few minutes of silence, he clears his throat. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he asks quietly.
‘I tried. I was going to earlier, on the beach, but then, you know . . . we got . . . distracted . . . and then I wanted to last night . . .’
‘That’s the thing you had to talk to me about? That you’ve been pretending to be someone else the entire time I’ve known you?’
I nod, staring at my lap.
‘Who was I even talking to on Instagram?’ I can tell he’s trying his best to keep his anger at bay, but it’s creeping into his voice.
I lay a tentative hand on his forearm. ‘Me,’ I confess, finally meeting his eyes. ‘I was pretending to be Millie because you insulted my grammar. I proofread all of her stuff.’ I sniffle. ‘And then she had to get surgery, and she didn’t want to miss her chance to find the wrasse. And now . . .’ I trail off and start to cry, my voice breaking and tears welling up in my eyes.
Hugh wraps his arm around me protectively and pulls me into his chest. ‘Shhh,’ he repeats softly, stroking my hair. ‘It’ll be OK.’
‘I’m so worried,’ I cry, smearing snot across his shirt. ‘And I’m sorry I have to go like this,’ I say through sobs. ‘I didn’t mean for it to go this far.’
Hugh doesn’t say anything. I pull myself out of his grip and look him in the eyes. They’re brilliantly blue.
‘I know why you have to go,’ he says, reaching out to wipe a tear from my cheek. ‘I understand.’
I cry harder.
The taxi pulls up at the airport and Hugh jumps out, beating me to the trunk to unload my luggage. When the driver leaves and we’re alone on the kerb, both of us fall silent.
‘I don’t want to pretend like I’m OK with what you did,’ Hugh says finally, kicking a pebble next to the road. ‘But I want to hear your full explanation, and I know now isn’t a good time to give it.’
If anything could have made me like Hugh more, that sentence was it. I wrap my arms around him, giving him a huge hug, nestling once more into his smell.
‘Thank you,’ I breathe. There are so many things I want to say to Hugh. Apologising seems impossible with so much emotion already clouding my mind. ‘I’ll miss you,’ is what comes out of my mouth instead.
‘I’ll miss you too.’ Hugh runs a hand through his hair. ‘Maybe I can get that explanation in Boston?’ he asks.
‘OK,’ I agree, relief flooding through me at the thought of seeing him in April. I can figure out how to explain everything by then. ‘Boston.’
Hugh leans down and kisses me, swiftly and deeply. I melt into his arms, my emotions running so high that his kiss makes me want to cry. Knowing I have a date when I’ll see him makes my trip back home a bit more bearable.
When we break apart, I turn and start to head into the airport. I take one last look at the giant green rolling mountains dominating the landscape behind me. I’m going to miss Australia. I’ll miss the laid-back nature of the people that choose to live here. I’ll miss the awe-inspiring natural beauty of the country, the way it feels like there is so much left to explore and discover. I’ll miss the reef, with its colours, salty air and turquoise waters.
I’m almost to the doors, which are automatically sliding open and closed, sending a woosh of air conditioning towards me every time they shut, when I realise I didn’t get Hugh to sign my dive log. I’ve been keeping a record in my dive journal of what fish I saw and when, and the entry for the last day has the butterfly wrasse and a place for a witness’s signature.
I hesitate. If what Hugh said on the boat is true, then his signature is the proof I need for Millie. But the faster I get inside the airport, the better chance I have at getting a seat on the early plane.I need to go in. But I can’t return home to Millie empty-handed.
‘Hugh,’ I shout, turning and sprinting towards him. He’s at the far end of the walkway, and I have to run to catch up to him. ‘My dive log.’ I gasp for air. ‘Can you sign it?’
I’m already pulling it out of my backpack by the time I see Hugh’s face. His eyebrows are knit together, his eyes are dark.
I hand him the paper and he takes it gently. He glances at it and his eyebrows knit together. ‘Seriously?’ he asks in a small voice.
‘Um,’ I stammer, ‘yes?’ I squirm. ‘I have to go.’
‘Millie—’ he says, before he clears his throat and corrects himself. ‘I mean Andi. Andi, I can’t.’ He starts to hand the dive log back to me.
