Chapter 2: A Piece of Summer

16:15: Garie Beach is where we going
16:15: Pick me up at 6

I pull into a free spot outside of Natalie’s apartment, her parents apparently own the whole building. It was a nice, modern place overlooking Turrella Station. Turrella isn’t too far from my suburb, but it feels like it’s in a completely different city. The train station is refined, the apartment buildings loom tall, but it has just enough greenery around to disqualify it from being a concrete jungle.

I reach behind the passenger seat and pull out the street directory, letting it settle on my lap with a thump. The pages cascade as I thumb through them, searching for the one marked by dog-ears.

A knock sounds against the passenger window. Natalie’s standing outside, gesturing for me to unlock the car. She’s wearing denim shorts, and her oversized striped sweater is secured by a camera bag strapped across her torso.

“Why ya still in ya uniform?” she asks as she climbs in.

“I was planning on changing after getting back home. No point in changing twice.”

“Fair.”

I consult the directory again. It looks simple enough, make it to Tom Ugly's Bridge and cross over. Garie Beach sits at the far end of the Royal National Park, so we just have to get through that.

“What are ya doing?” Natalie asks.

“Figuring out where we need to go. It should take us an hour to get there.”

“It’s 2019. Let’s just use a phone?” She dangles her phone. The case is clear, with a group photo tucked into the back. Whatever party it was taken at, I wasn’t invited.

“If you can find the map app on there, we’ll use it.”

I pull my phone from my pocket and toss it toward Natalie. She doesn’t even try to catch it. It clips the edge of the red leather seat and vanishes into the gap between the cushion and door. She fishes it out with two fingers, pinching it by the corner as if it is contaminated.

“Let’s just use my phone.”

From what I hear, the Royal National Park, or the “Nasho”, was a popular place to crash your car. As soon as we enter the winding roads, I can see why.

The turns are stacked tightly, each one bleeding into the next. The darkness creeping overhead doesn’t help the already poor visibility. It’s only seven, but the light feels unreliable here. Some of the bends already are completely blind.

It feels like the type of road that invites confidence, and then without warning, punishes it.

The road drops into a long straight with a toll booth standing in the middle. I slow as we approach it. Nobody’s inside. The booth’s in good nick, so it’s probably only staffed on the weekend, just to charge a couple extra bucks out of whatever tourist makes it down here.

“I see the ocean,” Natalie says, pointing straight ahead.

The silver sea can just barely be seen through the thinning trees. I expect to taste the salt in the air as we get closer, but instead it clings to the back of my throat. Heavy and unmoving.

After another set of gruelling turns, we reach the car park just as the sun dips its toes into the water. I cut the engine, and the surroundings come to life. Kookaburras croak from deep within the trees, cicadas scream as if they’ve been waiting for us, and the ocean moves silently.

There’s only one other vehicle in the car park, sitting as far back from the entrance as possible. From the front, it looks ordinary enough to pass in traffic, but the large rear wing commands something else entirely.

A girl leans against the side of it, arms folded. Her gaze stays fixed on the ocean, not noticing us at all. Or maybe she does, and we aren’t worth the look.

“Ya recognise her too, right?” Natalie asks.

I look over my shoulder. “No. Do you?”

“That’s Keiko, she went to our school. Like, three or four grades above us.”

“How do you even remember that?”

“I heard she’s really weird.” Natalie looks over at her in a very non-discrete way. “People said she was just ‘off’. Like there was nothing going on with her.”

“Nothing?”

“Don’t shoot the messenger.” Natalie shrugs. “I don’t really remember much. I just know she ain’t the type of person people hung around.”

I look back toward Keiko. She hasn’t moved. Her eyes were still stuck on the water.

Natalie sets up her tripod on a wooden table overlooking the beach.

“Why not put it on the ground?”

“Grounds uneven here,” she extends the legs until they hit their limit. “And it’s not tall enough for the shot I want.”

A fence cut across the sand below us, wooden posts divide the beach from where the grass should meet it naturally.

“Y’know”, she says, mounting the camera, “it’s crazy to think we’ve only got one year left of school.”

“It went fast.”

“I know right?” She laughs, eye pressed to the viewfinder. “Too fast.”

“Yeah.” I watch a wave break and disappear before it reaches the sand. “Too fast.”

Natalie frowns a little. “We’ve still got a year. That’s heaps. One last year to live it up.”

“The high school life you live and the one I live aren’t the same.” I shrug. “It doesn’t come as easy for me.”

“Things ya want don’t ever come easy. That doesn’t mean ya should give up on them.”

She hops off the table, entrusting the camera to the tripod as it fights against the wind.

“Upgrade a few things. New phone. New car. A bit more confidence. Ya’d be a new person overnight. Ya’ve got pretty eyes, so it’s not like ya’re a lost cause.”

“Those things cost money.”

“I’m not telling ya to buy a personality. But have ya tried talking to your parents? Maybe they're sick of whatever this is.”

She points toward the MINI, its round headlights stare ahead at the ocean without much to say for itself.

“If ya pull up to school in a nice BMW or a Merc, boom.” She traces a stock chart in the air. “Lil-ya stock immediately goes up.”

Only fifteen minutes have passed since Natalie started taking photos, but the sky has already fallen. I fold my arms tight against my body. The ocean breeze has lost all of its dreamy qualities, it stabs cold, like a warning.

I glance back toward the car park. The MINI sits where we left it, patient, still holding an unexpecting look. It knows what it is, and it knows it’ll never be anything else.

I look away before we make eye contact for too long.

“Wow, thanks. I got some really good pictures.” Natalie switches off her camera, then pops the lens off it.

“No problem.”

“We can stay here for a bit, if ya’d like?”

“It’s fine. It’s getting too cold to stay here anyway.”

I glance to the other side of the car park. Keiko is still there, unmoving, she’s more statue than person.

Keiko’s head flicks toward the mountains.

A sharp screech tears through the air, echoing off the rock face. It’s followed by a loud and reckless roar. Someone’s forcing speed where it doesn’t belong.

My stomach tightens.

The screech rings out again, closer this time. Faster.

“Let's go. Now.” I push myself up from the grass.

Natalie fumbles with her camera bag, suddenly rushing. “What do ya think it is?”

“An idiot. And we should leave before more show up.”

The screeches from the mountains crescendo as a small, white car flickers through the openings in the trees. It reaches the final turn and slows to almost a stop, the underside scrapes as it barely clears the speed bump. It pulls across the mouth of the car park and stops, blocking off the only exit.

The driver’s door opens. A leg in shorts cut far too high steps out, followed by a polo shirt, a cap with a massive logo, and a bum bag slung across his chest. An idiot, just as I predicted.

“What do we have here?”

He slams the door shut and buries his hands in his pocket. “I spy with my little eye, a very pretty lady.” He’s locked onto Natalie. His posture is permanently leaning back as he wobbles towards her. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“Leaving.”

Natalie moves to open the door, but he plants his hand on the trim, holding it shut. I’m on the other side of the car, but I can smell him from here, and he smells like a charcuterie board of shitty cologne.

“With me, hopefully.” His wry smile makes my stomach turn. He looks at me, then back at Natalie. “But your chauffeur seems to be in a hurry, so why don’t I just grab your socials and I can text you some other time.”

Natalie ducks under his arm and wraps around to my side of the car.

“No thanks, I’m good.”

“Come on baby, it’s not every day you meet a guy like me.” He moves to the front and sits on the bonnet. “I’ll treat you right.” He says blowing a kiss.

“Get the fuck off my car.” My teeth sand against each other.

“You call this a car? This is a hair-dresser-mobile.” He slaps the headlight. “Also shut your mouth, nobody was talking to you. If I wanted to talk to you, I would have, but you look like a dag.”

I want to just get in the front seat and floor it with him still on the bonnet.

“Oh?”

The single word slices through the air. Even the cicadas seem to pause.

“Jared, I’m surprised to see you. I thought after you totalled your car in front of everyone you would have picked a new hobby. Or a new mountain, at least.”

Keiko steps right up to him and stares him down.

Jared’s smile slips, then it comes back wrong, but only half as smug.

“I ain’t doing anything wrong here, Little Miss Sunshine.” He hops off the bonnet and straightens up, trying to make himself look bigger. “The ugly one started it by looking at me.”

Natalie grabs hold of my arm before the sentence is even over.

Keiko stares at him, unwavering.

Jared's jaw shuffles like he’s chewing his teeth. He flicks a glance at me, then back to Keiko. “Like look at her bro. How desperate would a bloke have to be to line up for a girl like that?”

Keiko tilts her head at him. “You sure talk a lot for someone that drives a stock Holden Tigra.”

His eyes narrow.

“None of you are even worth it. Youse all ugly as fuck.” He points at me. “Especially this gronk.”

Jared storms back to his car, does a u-turn, and speeds back up the mountain.

It’s weird, though, I stop hearing his car quicker than I should.

Keiko walks by us without even looking.

“Creepy,” Natalie says looking at her.

“Maybe it’s because we didn’t thank her.”

“Whatever. Let’s just go.”

The visibility is worse now. I’d switch on my fog lights, but I run the risk of blinding someone coming down the mountain.

After a few turns, the fog ahead of us flickers orange. A car sits idling on the side of the road, hazard lights blinking, parked half on a patch of gravel and facing the same direction as us.

My headlights reflect off a mess of holographic stickers.

Natalie’s expression widens. “Isn’t that the guy’s car?”

We drive by it, “Yeah but what’s he—”

Tyres screech, the sound tearing through the mountain. The car lunges out of the gravel and snaps in behind us.

His high-beams strobe in every mirror, blinding us. He lays on the horn, the sound enveloping our car.

“What are we going to do?” Natalie squeals.

I lift off the accelerator and ease onto the brakes.

He swings into the other lane and pulls up beside us.

“Don’t look at him,” I say, with my eyes fixed forward. “He just wants to taunt us.”

He speeds up and cuts back into our lane.

“Thank God,” Natalie draws a long breath. “He’s going to leave us alone.”

A flash of red.

Everything in the car lurches forward.

My foot slams the brakes on instinct.

Natalie’s body whips forward, the seatbelt gnawing into her shoulder.

He honks twice and accelerates away.

That bastard.

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” Natalie forces the words out. “Are you okay?”

My hand twitches on the gear stick.

“Let’s just turn around to the car park and call for help.” Natalie cries.

His car was still uncomfortably close. I can’t let him be anywhere near me.

He hits the brakes again.

I drop into the first and swerve to the opposite lane, slipping past him.

“Seriously, let's just turn around.” Natalie pleads.

Brake-checking seems to be the only thing he’s good at. His gearing is sloppy, his lines are rough. The road is narrow enough that he can block any real move I make. But he’s too scared to take the edge of the road.

I have to get ahead of him.

It’s the only way out of this.

“Please.” Natalie leans into my field of view. “Please just turn around, it’s not worth it.”

I slowly release my foot from the accelerator.

“Thank you.” Natalie says.

I hit the sports mode button.

I floor it.

The car feels lighter, sharper, like every millimeter of the pedal finally matters.

He gets on the gas too. But I’m already nipping at his bumper.

“Lil-ya! SLOW DOWN, SLOW DOWN, SLOW DOWN.”

2nd and 3rd shift in an instant.

My foot was prepared for his signature brake-check.

The road curves to the left. He dives in, taking the centre.

“Lil-ya do you know what that sign means?” Natalie calls attention to the hairpin sign. “It means the road is going to snake! Are you even listening to me?”

I fling the car wide, angling to get even with him by the end of the turn.

The tyres skim the grass.

He notices my pursuit, and adds more speed. But by the way his car shudders out of the corner tells me he’s close to his mental limit.

The hairpin is the most humiliating possible place to be overtaken.

And with him already on edge, it’s perfect.

We approach the 15km sign side by side.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? BRAKE. BRAKE. BRAKE. BRAKE. BRAKE—”

He edges forward, but then panics and slams the brakes.

That’s all he had in him, huh?

His car falls back, his front tires hover at my rear ones.

I don’t have enough speed to cut in cleanly at the apex.

But he doesn’t know that.

I nudge closer. He flinches, tucks deeper to the inside, and bleeds just enough momentum.

It’s over.

I throw the gear into 3rd on the exit and pull in front of him, blasting past the abandoned booth on the straight.

In the mirror, Jared’s car shrinks, whimpering along the road. That was the slightest amount of pressure I could have applied, and he folded. It doesn’t even feel like a victory.

We exit the Nasho without any other disruptions. A few souped up cars pass us on the way out. There must be some kind of meet down there. Natalie sits the whole way home without making a sound. She doesn’t even take out her phone. She just stares out the window.

We pull up outside her apartment.

“Thanks.” Her voice sounds thin, like it’s running out of air. She gathers her things and goes inside without looking back.

I sit there for a moment after she’s gone. I wonder if she’ll ever let me drive her anywhere again?

I look down at the petrol gauge. There was only one bar remaining.

I tap my hand on the steering wheel as I wait for the oncoming cars to pass. Unlike Natalie’s phone, mine has a 3.5mm jack, so I was actually able to use the aux cable. It’s a small victory, but one I always hold over her. Being able to listen to songs I actually enjoy, instead of unfunny radio hosts, makes driving a whole let less annoying.

I turn into the petrol station. When I get out, I tug my skirt down as the cold air bites at my legs. I wish it were like the old days, when someone else would fill the tank for you. With the nozzle in place, I watch the numbers climb, siphoning money straight out of my wallet.

I wasted a lot more fuel than I expected.

Watching the pixelated screen carefully, I release the pump just before it hits thirty bucks.

Surely I have that much.

The automatic doors slide open with a soft rush of air. Inside, it smells like a mix between a new book and a candy aisle. The station is in good nick, black ceiling, seamless lights, tan floors spotless except for a lone wet-floor sign near the lollies. Looks like someone stacked it while carrying a drink from the fridge.

I dig through my wallet. Three fives, a ten, and enough coins to make up the rest.

“Twenty-nine fifty.” The cashier says.

I hand over everything.

“Thank you. Have a nice night.” He slides fifty cents back across the counter.

“You too.”

My weightless wallet makes my hands feel hollow. Why do I waste my money driving someone else around? To be fair, it wouldn’t have cost this much if I hadn’t raced at all.

I step back outside. The night closes in around me as the door seal shut. The sky is empty, and the street hums with the buzz of lights. There’s no pedestrians, and no cars. The shops are dark, their upstairs windows unlit, like no one exists above them at all.

I flip open my phone. Maybe I should text Natalie to see if she’s alright? My fingers press against the rubbery keypad and start typing. I close my phone halfway through.

I have maths with her tomorrow, I’ll ask her then how she’s doing. Hopefully she’s not too shaken up about it.

I unlock my car and throw my wallet on the passenger seat.

I lean my head back against the headrest, and put my hands on the wheel.

The racing felt good. And that’s what scares me.