A Shadow's Breath Read online

‘Brilliant, Paddy,’ their teacher said flatly.

  ‘Getting drunk?’

  ‘Breaking stuff?’

  The gamers were on a roll.

  ‘Getting stoned, smashing windows and throwing up on everyone?’

  Mrs Russo looked mildly alarmed. ‘I think we have enough examples.’

  ‘Running in front of oncoming traffic at the school fete?’ Paddy smirked at Tessa while the class erupted into laughter.

  Tessa studied her desk, a hot, ugly blush staining her cheeks.

  ‘That’s enough,’ Mrs Russo said quickly. ‘Let’s focus on the film.’

  ‘Dickhead,’ Yuki said under her breath, but not so quietly that Mrs Russo didn’t hear.

  ‘Yuki. Please.’ The teacher sounded more tired than outraged.

  ‘What? He is a dickhead.’

  If Tessa could have fit into her desk, she would’ve crawled into it right then. ‘He’s not worth it,’ she muttered to Yuki, the colour in her cheeks deepening enough it could be seen from across the room. Across the oval. In goddamn New Zealand.

  ‘Go back to China!’ Paddy hissed, so only Tessa and Yuki could hear.

  Rage burned in Tessa. She leapt up, her heart hammering in her chest as she stood over Paddy. ‘What did you say?’ The words ground out hard as gravel.

  ‘Settle down, Gilham,’ he said, his eyes darting around the room before finding Tessa’s again, only to glance off. He was leaning back as if to stay out of reach.

  Tessa stood perfectly still, suddenly aware of everyone’s eyes on her.

  ‘Tessa.’ Mrs Russo was heading towards her, her voice firm but reassuring. ‘Please. Sit down.’

  ‘Please, Tess.’ Yuki’s face was granite, her smile stiff.

  Seeing her best friend’s stifled pain just made Tessa angrier. But she wanted the moment to end for Yuki, and the longer she stood there, the longer it stretched. She glared once more at Paddy, then found her seat, and the whole class seemed to exhale while Tessa willed her heart rate to slow.

  ‘As for you, Mr Hanson, that is not acceptable. At all.’

  Paddy began to protest. ‘Mrs –’

  ‘You know what to do,’ she said firmly, and waited for him to collect his books.

  ‘Psycho cow!’ he spat.

  ‘At least she knows her geography,’ Yuki said. ‘It’s Japan, not China, dipshit.’

  Tessa shook her head, beginning to smile. ‘Pretty sure he meant you’re the psycho cow,’ she whispered.

  Yuki grinned and pinched Tessa’s cheek like an annoying aunt. ‘Of course he did.’

  ‘Okay,’ Mrs Russo said without even the faintest twitch to her mouth, ‘I think we all have a handle on the meaning of antisocial.’

  She can feel him there, feel his presence before she hears the coaxing whisper of her name. She wants to answer. Wants to rise up to that beautiful voice, the rich, liquid tones as familiar as her own.

  ‘Tess.’

  Her name drifts through the thick haze of her mind. She licks her lips but her tongue is sandpaper. She squints at the sound. Blinks. The world swims before her. She closes her eyes to slow it down.

  ‘Tess.’

  There’s no panic in his voice, and she takes heart from this. She opens her eyes and finds Nick’s gaze, patient and warm and knowing.

  ‘You with me?’

  She manages a small, shallow nod. He leans back, his face suddenly clearer in the bright daylight. She wonders how long they’ve been here. What time it is. What day.

  ‘Where does it hurt?’ he asks.

  She snorts a half laugh that comes out strangled and thin. Pain shoots down her entire body in response. ‘Everywhere.’

  She’s rewarded with a lopsided grin. A little grim given the blood-smeared cheeks, the pasted-down mess of sweat and dirt where his hair is. But it energises her. They’re still here.

  The world is shifting into something that makes sense. Pieces of the accident drop randomly into her lap:

  Driving in Nick’s car.

  The corner too tight.

  The sun too bright.

  The sharp cliff edge yawning ahead.

  The ground hurtling towards them.

  Panic strikes her at the memory. Sweat breaks out all over. No one knows to look for them. No one knows they’re here.

  Nick is saying something, but the words are mumbled and dull.

  ‘What?’ she thinks she asks.

  ‘Can you hear me?’

  She would nod but she doesn’t seem to have control of her neck now. ‘How long …?’

  He sucks in air, shifts his body to lean closer. A laboured movement that ends with his hand between them, his watch, incredibly, in one piece. They squint at its large, white face: two-twenty or thereabouts. Ignoring the crust of dried blood on his elbow, and the raw, blistered skin on the back of his hand, burnt by the airbag now deflated across his thighs.

  ‘Is it still Friday?’ Tessa’s mouth aches with the effort to speak.

  He shrugs. He doesn’t know or it doesn’t matter. Probably both.

  Bile rises in Tessa’s mouth. She fights it down, imagines herself shutting it in a box. It helps her to do this – to picture emotion as a thing you can contain. One of the counsellors taught her that, though she doesn’t remember which one. There were some whose names she never bothered to learn.

  ‘I’m okay,’ she says finally. ‘I’m okay.’

  ‘Come on – at least say hi,’ Yuki said, as they inched along the cafeteria queue.

  ‘Seriously.’

  ‘What? They’re cool.’

  Tessa stole a look at Yuki’s drama friends huddled in the far corner of the room. Her eyes immediately zoned in on the perfect, beautiful Lara Hodge. ‘We have nothing in common.’

  ‘Speak for yourself!’

  ‘I’m sure they’re fine.’

  ‘Wow. That’s big of you.’

  ‘What? I mean, Zane’s cool.’

  Yuki sighed. ‘You just refuse to have a life.’

  ‘I have a life!’ Tessa said, too loudly. She glanced around her, noted the zombie-like stares of the middle-school cricket team ahead of them in the queue. ‘I do,’ she added, more evenly.

  Yuki grabbed a falafel wrap from the fridge section, her eyebrows a comical arch. ‘Making out with Nick every chance you get doesn’t count.’

  Tessa blushed despite the curve to her lips. ‘It should count a bit.’

  Yuki rolled her eyes and kept walking. ‘Maybe, but only because he’s hot.’ She flung her arm across Tessa’s shoulders. ‘And leaving.’

  Tessa ignored the sharpness in her chest at that. ‘Not yet,’ she said quietly.

  Yuki squeezed her arm, an apologetic smile on her lips. ‘No, not yet.’

  ‘Anyway, it’s uni,’ Tessa said, because she suddenly needed to say it out loud. ‘In Melbourne. He’ll be going a bit sooner than us, that’s all.’

  Yuki cocked her head. ‘One year, actually.’

  Like Tessa didn’t already know. ‘But not yet,’ she said again.

  Luckily, the drama kids’ table was already full. Yuki waved while Tessa forced a small smile, then the two of them found a couple of empty seats near the exit. Tessa pulled out her homemade lunch. Her mum’s turkey-and-salad roll was cut neatly down the middle as if she’d bought it from a deli. It looked fresh and delicious, and Tessa’s stomach rumbled just seeing it.

  Yuki considered the soggy wrap in front of her disdainfully. ‘That looks good,’ she said, nodding at Tessa’s lunch.

  ‘Here.’ Tessa handed Yuki half her roll before taking a bite of what was left.

  ‘Ta.’

  Tessa smiled to herself. Who would’ve thought. Her phone dinged.

  A message from Nick: You here?

  Tessa felt the rush of heat she experienced every time he messaged, every time she saw him. Yep. At lunch.

  Miss you. Meet outside?

  Sure.

  Yuki glanced at Tessa’s phone. ‘Man, he’s got it bad.’
/>   ‘You sound surprised.’

  ‘Not because it’s you, but because it’s him.’

  ‘Why do you hate him so much?’

  Yuki snorted. ‘I don’t hate him. I wouldn’t bother.’

  ‘You give me enough crap about him.’

  ‘I do not.’

  Tessa stood up. Waited.

  ‘What?’ Yuki sighed, long and deep. ‘He just … has it all. You know?’

  Tessa frowned.

  ‘Good-looking. Smart. Nice,’ Yuki said, almost spitting the last word. ‘He’d been here five minutes and they made him school captain. What is that?’

  ‘Co-captain. And they always said there’d be one from each school.’

  ‘Still.’

  ‘These are reasons to hate him?’

  ‘I don’t hate him.’ Yuki’s forehead puckered. ‘It just annoys me that he doesn’t have to try.’

  Tessa considered this. ‘Yeah. That is kind of annoying.’

  ‘That’s all I’m saying.’

  ‘He’s really cute, though.’

  ‘And nice.’

  ‘Yeah, and nice.’

  Yuki rolled up the remains of the ruined wrap in the plastic it had come in.

  ‘You’re not going to eat that, are you?’

  ‘Absolutely. I call it “deconstructed kebab”.’

  ‘Of course you do,’ Tessa said.

  Yuki looked at the mess in her hand as they headed towards the door, then paused at the bin before dumping the whole lot. ‘Deconstructed only works if it wasn’t constructed in the first place.’

  Tessa laughed. ‘Come and say hi.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Get to know him.’ Tessa grinned. ‘Find his flaws.’

  ‘We’ve got class.’

  ‘Like you care.’

  ‘It’s the new me.’ Yuki’s cheek dimpled.

  ‘Five minutes?’

  Yuki shook her head. ‘Like I said, you’ve got it bad.’

  Tessa shrugged. What could she say? She did, and she knew it.

  ‘All right. For you, I suppose so. Meet you out there,’ Yuki said, taking a detour via the drama table.

  Nick was approaching from the main gate, his tall frame towering over the other kids. His muscled arms bare under a sleeveless T-shirt. Long legs protruding from basketball shorts. Year 12 exams were done, so he was free and clear of Carrima Regional High while Tessa and Yuki had to suffer another fortnight in the form of the Head Start program at the end of Year 11. How it was a head start when basically every school in the state did it, Tessa didn’t understand, but the principal had warned them that anyone who didn’t show could expect ‘repercussions’, whatever that meant. At least they were almost done. Next week summer holidays would officially begin and, for Tessa, it couldn’t come fast enough.

  ‘Hey,’ Nick said, his face creasing into a broad grin, the white of his teeth stark against his brown skin.

  Tessa smiled up at him and stood on her toes. A quick, awkward kiss. It still felt new and a little uncertain, as though this delicate thing would shatter at the slightest touch. She wondered if he felt the same. Decided that he probably didn’t.

  These moments had been the only good thing these past weeks, even with her mum’s sobriety. Or because of it. Her mum’s mood swings, when she first stopped drinking, were almost as paralysing as the arsehole’s drunken rages. She’d done it alone, for the most part, literally just holed herself up in the house until she felt she could trust herself to stay clean. Tessa had been so frightened her mum would relapse that she hadn’t protested at all. She’d bought them food, cooked them meals, done what she had to do to ensure Ellen didn’t have to face temptation until she was ready. Or worse, let the arsehole back into the house. And recently her mum had begun to talk about getting help – a counsellor or a group, whatever the region had to offer. Sometimes Tessa felt she would drown under all that responsibility. She wasn’t equipped to carry them both this far alone. And yet she had, and finally it seemed to be easing.

  Except I’m not alone, she reminded herself. The Frasers had been there from the start and, more recently, Nick too. They’d saved her life. She tried not to think too long on that – that she needed them more than they needed her – but the truth was, deep down, they all knew it.

  ‘God. You two,’ Yuki said, as she headed towards them. ‘You’ll do yourselves an injury.’

  Tessa cast around for the drama group, but Yuki was alone.

  Nick stepped back, his arm resting across Tessa’s shoulders, and raised an eyebrow at Yuki. ‘Fraser.’

  ‘Kostas. Invented any mathematical equations lately?’

  Nick shook his head. ‘Slow week.’

  ‘Oh well. I’m sure there’s a planet out there waiting to be discovered.’

  ‘Good to know.’

  ‘This has been nice,’ Tessa said sarcastically. She suspected Yuki quite liked Nick but just couldn’t admit it.

  ‘Hey, you invited me! Anyway, I’ll leave you to it.’ Yuki smiled and gave Tessa’s hand a squeeze before she turned to go.

  ‘Meet you after school?’ Tessa called after her.

  Yuki waved vaguely before blending into the thronging crowd of schoolkids.

  Tessa faced Nick. ‘Hey.’ Alone again. Or kind of alone. ‘I didn’t know you’d be here today.’

  ‘Can’t keep me away.’ Nick smiled that languid smile that had greeted her the first time they’d spoken, when the arsehole had dragged her and Ellen to celebrate his birthday at the pub. Tessa had escaped outside, her heart in her throat, knowing the night wouldn’t end well – it never did – but hating the idea of calling Yuki’s dad. Again. She’d decided she wouldn’t bother Doug anymore. She couldn’t do that anymore.

  And then she’d found Nick by the back door, sucking in lungfuls of the cold night air. For a moment she’d thought he’d been crying, the loud heave of his breaths broken like sobs, but when he looked up, there was a trace of a smile, the steady gaze of those beautiful eyes.

  He straightened. ‘You all right?’ Like it was she who was struggling to breathe.

  ‘I was going to ask you the same thing.’

  His mouth twisted into a fragile grin, thin and not quite touching his eyes. His breathing had slowed to something close to normal, but his face was covered in a sheen of sweat. ‘Just on a break.’ He nodded at the back door of the pub. ‘Long night.’

  ‘Yeah.’ She’d seen him behind the bar earlier, and knew him from school, though he was a year above her and one of the St Katherine’s kids. They’d never actually spoken despite Yuki and Nick sharing mutual friends.

  ‘Tessa, right?’

  ‘And you’re Nick.’ Everyone knew Nick Kostas. School captain, super-brain, super gorgeous.

  ‘Glad we got that sorted.’ He held her in his gaze, stealing Tessa’s breath. ‘This is the bit where we chat about meaningless things. I make you laugh, you make me laugh –’

  ‘There’s a bit?’

  ‘Always. At the beginning.’

  ‘We’re at the beginning of something?’

  ‘Yes. When we first met.’

  ‘We’ve met before,’ Tessa reminded him.

  ‘Doesn’t count.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘This is more romantic. Look where we are.’

  Tessa looked around the carpark, at the crates set out for the staff smoko, a large skip full to overflowing, a single lightbulb above the pub door.

  ‘Take it in, Tessa.’ Nick stretched out his arms, encompassing it all in one gesture. ‘The musky smell of rotting lettuce, the noble presence of empty kegs. The beer-stained stoop – or is it blood?’ He looked at her, his mouth twitching. ‘The stuff of movies.’

  Tessa felt laughter bubble inside her. ‘Very romantic.’

  ‘We just need someone to stagger through that door and vomit at our feet to complete the picture.’

  ‘I’m feeling giddy at the possibility.’

  ‘I’ve been told I have that effect
.’

  She didn’t doubt it; she’d heard the rumours. ‘Are you almost finished?’ The words came out before she realised how they could be misunderstood.

  ‘Are you asking me out?’

  ‘What? No!’ The flush in her cheeks must have been apparent even in the dim halo of light where they stood. ‘You … You look, um, tired. And we have school tomorrow …’ Jesus, Tess. Get it together!

  ‘I’d say yes if you did.’

  Is he making fun of me? ‘Well, I didn’t,’ she snapped.

  The silence between them felt suddenly fraught, and she wanted to wind it back to before, when they’d been easy and flirty. They had been flirting, hadn’t they? But now there was this silence, and she wanted to fill the space, prolong the conversation. For that moment, nothing else mattered except what was happening in that dark, smelly lane. The flutter in her chest, the huskiness of his voice – all of it so fucking normal she could have cried.

  ‘Your parents okay?’ he said carefully, the intimacy of the moment extinguised by that simple question. He gestured towards the pub.

  ‘He’s not my dad,’ she said, anger lacing her words.

  ‘Good. He’s kind of a dick.’

  And despite herself, Tessa laughed. Because here was this stranger telling the truth. Just like that! Which meant she could too. ‘He’s a total dick,’ she said, and laughed harder, feeling freer than she’d felt in forever.

  ‘Need a ride home?’

  ‘Aren’t you working?’

  He rubbed at his chin, grimaced. ‘Technically, yes. But it’s possible I just lost my job.’

  ‘That sucks.’

  He tilted his head, that same half smile creasing his face. ‘My boss said he’d give me time off for school – mid-year exams and the rest. So who knows if he’ll give me any work after the break. He has to pay me a full wage now.’ He smiled again. ‘Let me get my stuff?’

  Tessa hesitated. ‘I’m not sure …’

  He leant in and put a hand on her shoulder, gentle but firm. ‘Please don’t get in their car.’

  She looked at his hand, felt tears sting the backs of her eyes. He let go but didn’t move, like they’d agreed on something. ‘I don’t want to leave my mum.’ The words fell out, choked, hushed.

  Nick frowned. ‘Okay. Come with me.’