Chapter 45

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Initially it felt more relaxed at home without dad around. We ate dinner in front of the television, we went to bed later, mum stopped demanding that we left our phones on the kitchen bench on school nights. It was like the reigns had been taken off a little. Mum had her high school friend Britta over, and they stayed up until after we'd gone to bed, drinking gin and tonics in the back garden by the outdoor fire. In the morning, she didn't get up until after we'd gone to school.

We spoke to dad on FaceTime most nights. Mum would call him and then pass around the phone, like he was a shared plate.

'What have you been doing?' I asked.

'Nothing,' dad said. 'I go to work, and then I come back here.'

'What are you eating?' I asked.

'Uber Eats,' dad said.

'Are you cracking into the mini-bar?'

'It's a rip off.'

I felt sad, seeing dad sitting up against that grey bedhead. He felt safer there, than safer amongst us.

A few days later, Mum told me there was a news report saying a man in his 30s had coronavirus at the Melbourne protest and everyone needed to get tested. It was exactly what dad had feared. Mum hauled me off to the local shopping centre where we waited in the carpark for an hour to get tested. A health professional in a hazmat suit shoved a nasal swab so far down my nose, I thought it was going to come out my mouth. It hurt so much I smacked my hand against the dashboard and yelled 'stop'.

'Got it,' the woman said. 'We'll be in touch within three days.'

I wasn't allowed to go back to school until I got the test results. I spent my time at home working on essays and art projects. I told Asten to get tested too. I didn't feel like I had COVID. I didn't feel like I was about to get COVID. Overreactions were a secondary virus. Both our results came back clear. A simple SMS message: Your test is negative. 

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