Page 56 of Power Moves
Now, my version of flow state is pumping out last-minute media releases. I must never admit this out loud.
‘Remember that time you ate a fly?’ asks Jessie, flicking her Frosty Fruit stick onto the floor of the footwell.
My flinch is involuntary, and more related to the rubbish than the memory of the fly.The car is booked in to be cleaned as soon as we get back, I remind myself.And the fly shouldn’t have stuck itself to my Bubble O’Bill.
‘Remember that time you ate Mrs Giblet’s dog food?’ I counter. (I know Jessie won’t actually remember, given she was three, but it’s the stuff of family legend.)
Jessie side-eyes me. ‘Remember that time you spewed in Mrs Giblet’s garden?’
My eyebrows shoot up. It wasonetime, and it washerfault. (She told me the punch wasn’t that strong.) ‘Remember that time you hooked up with her nephew?’
Jessie gasps. ‘Remember that time you hooked up with the bouncer from the Royal?’
‘Remember that time I told Jason Stevens you had a crush on him and you threw a butter knife at me?’
‘Ha!’ Jessie cackles. ‘Ididdo that.’
My face cracks in satisfied laughter. ‘You were such a psycho.’
‘I was,’ Jessie agrees.
I shake my head as our chuckles subside, the road before us sweeping around swathes of green paddocks. This is the best thing about siblings. You can be feeling existentially down in the dumps about the state of your life until you remember that time your sister tried to kill you, and suddenly the whole vibe is like,Good times, man. Good times.
‘Ooh!’Jessie squeals, grabbing her phone. ‘Maxy’s FaceTiming!’
She taps the green button and in my peripheral vision I see my brother’s goofy face appear on the screen.
‘Buckle up, sissies,’ he greets us. ‘I have massive news.’
‘You’re engaged?’ I guess.
‘I don’t even have a girlfriend.’
I shrug. ‘All your friends are getting engaged. It was worth a shot.’
‘Hear, hear,’ agrees Jessie. ‘I was going to guess you were adopting a baby.’
‘No, this is way more exciting,’ says Maxy.
‘You’ve won the lottery and you’re taking us on an all-expenses-paid trip to the Disneylands on every continent?’ guesses Jessie.
‘No, but if I ever do win, we will one hundred per cent do that.’
‘Ooh, we could make an Instagram account,’ I suggest. ‘“The Hatt Pack does Disneyland”.’
Jessie nods. ‘LikeDebbie Does Dallasbut way more wholesome.’
‘And if I meet a nice girl called Debbie, that will be a bonus,’ says Maxy.
‘I might meet a cowboy,’ muses Jessie. ‘Or a cowgirl. Don’t mind so long as they’re nice.’
‘I bags a quarterback,’ I announce, without thinking.
Maxy laughs. ‘You think you’re the NFL type, Mill?’
My cheeks flush. ‘What’sthatsupposed to mean?’ I mean,Iknow I’m not baller enough to date a quarterback, but this is make-believe. Like, who on earth under the age of sixty is called Debbie these days?
Surprisingly, Jessie comes to my defence. ‘In other news, Maxy, Mill didn’t have a conniption when I got in the car with sandy feet.’
