Elsie peers down at her legs. The shiny leather is so tight it looks like it was sprayed on. And then she throws her arms around me and bursts into tears.
‘I like these pants!’ she sobs. ‘They’re my favourite, favourite pants in the whole world! I’ve had them forever, and I can’t stand the thought of leaving them behind. What am I going to do without them, Sophia?’
I wrap my arms loosely around her, feeling only a little bit twitchy. ‘Els, it’s okay, you can wear whatever you want. Though I’m pretty sure they have leather pants in America –’
‘I’m not talking about the stupid goddamn pants!’ she yells, just about rupturing my eardrum in the process. ‘Jesus Christ, Reyhart, you are supposed to be the smart one!’
‘Your metaphors suck, Elsie,’ I manage to say. I feel her tears on the side of my face, her hiccupy sobs against my chest.
I pull away from her. She drops her arms by her sides, but I can still feel the ghost of them around me. ‘Sure you’re not going to change your mind?’ I whisper.
She laughs, wiping her face on her jacket sleeve. ‘Probably, once I’m subjected to my first pep rally or keg party? I’m not even sure what a keg party is, but it sounds sucky. I’ll probably change my mind every other day. I’m going to miss home like crazy. But I still want to do this.’
‘Okay. But will you … you’ll Skype and email and keep in touch. Right?’
She rolls her eyes. ‘No. I will step on that plane and immediately subject myself to a brain wipe. Really, it’s the only way I can erase the memory of seeing Lucas Kelly’s wang in the Bio exam. Seriously, they really needed a class on how to work a zipper, just for him.’ Elsie must clock my expression, because she rolls her eyes again and adds, ‘I will text you as soon as I get off the plane. Okay?’
I take a deep breath. ‘Elsie, I wanted to say … that is, I’ve been meaning to tell you … I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you were alone. I know I’m sort of self-involved. And I’ve probably been a crap best friend. But I want you to know that, well, I don’t think I would have survived all this if it wasn’t for you. I know I probably made things hard, but you being my friend … it was the least lonely I’ve ever been. I just wanted you to know that.’
Elsie bursts into tears again. Her mum, Raj and Colin and an assortment of cousins and aunts suddenly surround her, all hugs and proffered tissues, and slowly, she is drawn away from me.
‘Wait, wait,’ she hisses, untangling herself from her family. Rajesh swipes fitfully at his eyes, and Colin laughs at him, but he looks kind of misty, too.
Elsie barrels back towards me and grabs the lapels of my dress. ‘I’ll see you at Christmas, okay? We can watch movies and eat Tim Tams and, well, not catch up, because I’m going to Skype you every second day – but it’ll be okay. Okay?’
‘Okay, Elsie.’ I say. My eyes are dry, but everything inside me feels like it’s dissolving.
‘And take care of the boy,’ she says with a lopsided smile. ‘I think he kind of likes you.’
‘Is that code for “stop being such a giant freakazoid”?’ I whisper.
Elsie giggles through her tears. ‘I have a feeling it’s the freakazoidy bits he likes the most,’ she whispers back.
I can’t help but smile, too. ‘What am I going to be when I grow up, Elsie?’
She smooths back my hair and then takes a step away from me. ‘You, my friend, are going to be amazing.’
She bounds over to Joshua, who is hovering awkwardly at the back of the crowd. She stands on her toes and throws her arms around his neck, and he hugs her back just as tightly. I can’t tell what she says to him, or what he says back, but I think I can hazard a guess by the way they both glance in my direction.
There is a flurry of activity from Elsie’s family, who seem to have descended en masse. Her dad gives her a couple of encouraging slaps across the back, and her mum smooths down her jacket while crying quietly into a handkerchief. Elsie’s brothers don’t seem to be immune either – Raj and Colin and even stoic Ryan descend into the fray. Elsie disappears beneath a swirling mass of arms and hugs.
She gathers her carry-on bag and her jacket, looking through damp eyes at her family, and her friends, and finally, me. She winks.
Then she squares her shoulders and, without a backward glance, walks through the gaping mouth of the departure doors. And just like that, Elsie is gone.
I don’t need to turn around. I feel rather than see him move, his strangely familiar presence appearing in the space behind me. He doesn’t say anything. I still can’t make myself look away from the gate. I am aware of a gaping space that has opened up somewhere beneath my belly, which I know won’t ever be filled in the same way again. But I find myself moving backwards, inch by inch, until I bump into the solid, reassuring wall behind me.
‘Okay?’ he asks quietly.
‘No. Not even a little bit.’
He rests his chin on the top of my head. He doesn’t say anything, but his arms circle around me, and he doesn’t let go.
‘So. Anyone up for a kebab?’
I turn my head. Joshua’s arm remains around my waist. With his other hand he clips Damien over the side of the head.
‘What? It’s proper depression food.’
Rajesh appears beside us, still sniffling. ‘Yeah, I could go some food. I wouldn’t mind escaping this lot, too. Auntie Therese is trying to set me up with the chick in the Sunglass Hut.’ He shudders.
Joshua takes my hand. He looks at me, patiently.
I cast one last glance at the departure door. And then I look at my friends, and at Joshua’s hand, still clasped in mine.
‘Okay,’ I say, mustering a faint smile. ‘Let’s go.’
We pile into Joshua’s dad’s car, and after some truly awful roadside kebabs, we drop Raj at home and Damien at the tram stop. We leave Damien armed with Mira’s phone number and a plan to catch up for pizza later in the week. He waves goodbye by jiggling his hands in front of his chest, as if he is gesticulating with imaginary breasts. I am still slightly confused as to how this boy became my friend.
It’s much later, and I should be at home, but it’s Sunday night and my best friend is on her way to a new life on the other side of the world, and I have nothing to do tomorrow but sleep and crack the spine of an advanced geometry textbook.
We’re side-by-side on Joshua’s bed, beneath the dark ceiling and his rows of bookshelves. I’m sitting cross-legged, fiddling with one of his new Japanese puzzle boxes, while Joshua stretches out beside me, cuddling a purring Narda. He runs his hands over the cat’s soft ears, and he watches my fingers as I work the wooden pieces and pegs. I can see how to solve this puzzle, so I set it aside. Instead, I lie down and watch Joshua. I can hear the faint sounds of Gillian’s music, but apart from the ticking of a few too many clocks, his room is quiet and still.