Lucy in the Sky

are you designing, mate?’
    ‘Could’ve been my house, you never know.’ Nathan grins back at him.
    ‘That’ll be the day.’ Sam laughs.
    Ten minutes or so later, the waitress appears with our food.
    ‘So what did you boys get up to last night?’ Molly asks as we tuck in. ‘I hope you didn’t allow any bony strippers to gyrate on my husband,’ she says, turning to Nathan. Both boys laugh, but with guilt or outrage, I’m not sure. ‘Actually, I don’t want to know.’ She looks at me ruefully.
    I’ve gone off my pancakes. But I’ve eaten one and I’m feeling pretty stuffed. I don’t really want to pig out in front of Nathan in any case, so I put my knife and fork together on my plate.
    ‘How’s your omelette?’ I ask after a while.
    ‘Not bad.’
    ‘Doesn’t look as good as the one you made me.’
    ‘Did you hear this?’ Molly turns to Sam. ‘Nathan made Lucy an omelette .’
    ‘Jeez, that’s advanced, mate. You’ll be doing a Jamie Oliver next.’
    ‘Christ, what do you think I am, completely incompetent?’ he replies, jokily exasperated. I do wonder if Nathan gets pissed off with all the stick he gets from them.
    ‘Right, I’m off,’ he says after a few more minutes, standing up and reaching into his pocket for his wallet.
    ‘Are you going surfing today?’ I ask.
    ‘Yeah, I might go out later,’ he answers. ‘But right now I’m going home to bed.’
    He throws down $10, checking with Molly if it’s enough. Sam stands up and gives him a big bear hug.
    ‘Thanks for looking after me last night, mate,’ he says.
    ‘Yes, thank you for looking after my fiancé!’ Molly looks up at them cheerfully.
    ‘Alright, mop-head, see you later.’ He ruffles her hair. ‘See ya, Luce.’ He glances back at me. And then he’s gone, and I feel empty inside.

Chapter 7
    ‘Do you want to come to the shop with me today?’ Molly asks.
    ‘No,’ I reply. ‘I think I’ll go into the city.’
    It’s Monday morning and Sam is making himself breakfast while Molly and I unload the dishwasher.
    ‘Why don’t you meet me for lunch?’ Sam asks.
    ‘Ah, that’d be nice,’ Molly encourages me.
    ‘Okay, that’d be great.’ I smile, a little uncertain.
    Sam and I used to feel relaxed in each other’s company years ago, but we might not be as comfortable these days without Molly around. Maybe it’ll be good to spend some time with just him. Build our friendship back up on purely platonic terms.
     
    It’s hot and stuffy on board the speedy Jetcat to the city and a baby won’t stop crying. I’d give anything to be standing with Nathan on a green and cream ferry looking over the railings at the seals.
    I still can’t stop thinking about him. This crush, or whatever the hell it is, shows no signs of weakening. It strikes me at thatmoment that I haven’t had a single crush on anyone in three years, and now someone has come along just when I needed a distraction from my fears about my boyfriend. I wonder how many more hours I’ll get to spend with Nathan before I leave.
    Before I leave. Only six more days left and then I’ll be heading home on another dreaded flight. Home to James. Home to our flat. I usually love the thought of going home to our flat. Well, I usually love the thought of going home to my boyfriend, but let’s not get into that now. Or maybe we should. I need to get some perspective on things, much nicer though it would be to bury my head in the sand and ignore it all.
    James was my first proper boyfriend. Even though we met when I was twenty-two, I really hadn’t had a boyfriend before him. Just a couple of flings. I’d lost my virginity to someone called Dave in my first year of university, something I intensely regretted afterwards. I was drunk and it wasn’t love. But I had stubbornly resolved to make it work, even though Dave and I had nothing in common. It ended when I saw him snogging another girl in the corner of the student union and I made a right spectacle of myself by throwing his pint of beer over him. I was devastated at the time. He was devastated I’d wasted his pint. To be honest, he was a bit smelly and had terrible dress sense. I probably just needed someone to take my mind off Sam.
    Molly wrote more often than Sam. He was never good at writing–only talking. And gardening…Over the years, my friendship with Molly strengthened while Sam and I drifted further apart. There was nothing I could do. Sam used to confide in me when he and Molly had a