A Reason to Exist

Chapter 47

Tucker and I met at the beach. His kiss defied gravity. The touch of his hand on my hip was fairy lights, the smell of his neck was waking up on a Saturday morning knowing I didn't have to go to school, his smile was a vacant seat on a packed tram on a muggy day.

'I adore you,' I said.

'I adore you too.'

We kissed again. The sun curtsied towards the sea, clocking off for the day, spreading pink and purple across the sky.

'How was the rest of your weekend?' Tucker asked.

'Full on,' I said. 'My family is deranged.'

His eyebrows rose, pressing his hairline with a question mark.

'Let's not talk about it,' I said. 'It's the same old thing and it's depressing.' I took his hand and we started strolling along the path. 'How about you? How was the rest of your weekend?'

'You're never going to believe it. This American film guy contacted me. He wants to do a skate feature on me. A proper full-length vid. Different locations. Sponsored. Fully edited. Music. The works. It's going to get an international release on their website. They've got over ten million subscribers on YouTube alone.'

'Get the hell out.'

'I know, right? I can't believe it. My head is spinning. Apparently he even saw that vid of me at that party in Braybrook. He wants me to go back there next weekend to attempt that trick again. And he's got someone who can do some location scouting. He wants to find places around Melbourne that haven't been filmed before.'

'This is so exciting.' I squeezed his hand, like I was squeezing the elixir of life, punch drunk on pride. This was my guy, hunted down by an American skate filmmaker, adored by YouTube watchers, idolised by other skaters.

But a second later, my pride morphed into fear. Will I be good enough to keep him? Have I got enough to sustain his interest? The more exciting his life becomes, the more it might take him away from me.

I am not the prettiest or the cleverest or the funniest. I am certainly not the most daring. Am I a stopgap in his journey to stardom? The girl who knew him before he became famous, before he starred in King of the Road, before he got a major sponsorship, before he got his very own skate brand. Am I the girl he dates before all the actresses and models? The dull girl with the overprotective mother and drab hair who can't even do a handstand?

My mood drilled so deep down it discovered oil. His good news terrified me. I was the girlfriend who wanted to keep things just as they were. No future. No past. Just now. Kisses on the beach with the boy next door. This is what I wanted. Not American filmmakers.

'Bloody hell, I'm so excited for you,' I said, because that was what he wanted to hear. I stitched a smile on my face and randomly generated a lightness in my voice. Yet, his good news felt like doom, like I'd finally been exposed for the great bore that I was.

Loving someone is hazardous. It's an electrical fault in an old house, it's a snake waiting by the back door, it's a rare genetic mutation. At any given moment disaster can strike. Every girl is competition, every opportunity a risk to the stability of our relationship.

Stop it! My mind yelled at itself. Stop it before he figures out how crazy you are. The closer you try to hold him, the more he will want to run. Love him without trying to possess him. Do not sabotage this.

'You okay?' he asked.

'Yes.' My smile was a gag across my mouth. 'It's awesome.' I paused and took a breath and chose temporary distraction. 'I've just had a full on weekend with dad and the break in at the gallery. And more family dramas. It has an affect on me. But yeah, seriously, that's the best news I've heard. Things are starting to happen for you.' I held his hand, wishing for a lobotomy to remove this character flaw that took good news and turned it into a threat to my existence.

I told myself, have confidence in yourself. You are good enough. To have this fear is an insult to yourself.

Slowly I started to believe in myself. Yes. I am good enough. Now shut up.

'Let's put our feet in the water,' I said, bending down to slip my shoes off. 'Come on.'