Walking out the gate, I see her and say to Rube, ‘Shouldn’t we walk with her or somethin’? You know, to make sure she doesn’t get clocked on the way home. There are some good weirdos around here.’

‘We gotta be home before dark.’

‘Yeah, but —’

‘Well go if y’ want,’ he urges me. ‘I’ll tell Mum you’ll be in a bit later. You just stopped by a mate’s place.’

I stop.

‘Come on,’ he says, ‘make up y’ mind.’

I pause, go one way, then the other. I decide.

I run across the road, and once I turn to see where Rube is, he’s gone. I can’t find him anywhere. Steph’s walking up ahead. I catch up.

‘Hey.’ Words. More words, I tell myself. Gotta say more words. ‘Hey Steph, can I walk with you?’ To make sure you get home all right, I think, but I don’t say it. It’s just not something I would say. I can only hope she knows what I mean.

‘Okay,’ she replies. ‘But isn’t this out of your way?’

‘Ah, not really.’

It grows darker and there are no more words. It’s just, I have no idea what to say, or what to talk about. The only thing that makes a sound is my heartbeat, tripping through my body as we keep going. Our walk is slow. I look at her. She looks at me a few times too. Damn, she’s beautiful. I see it under the streetlights — a world of sky in each eye, and the dark, short waves of hair and tanned skin.

It’s cold.

God, she must be cold, and I take my jacket off and offer it to her. Still no words. Just my face, begging her to accept it. She does and she says ‘Thanks’.

At her gate, she asks, ‘You wanna come in? You can have something to drink.’

‘Oh nah,’ I explain. Quiet. Too quiet! ‘I have to get home. I wish I could though.’

She smiles.

She smiles and takes the jacket off. When she hands it to me, I wish I could touch her fingers. I wish I could kiss her hand. I wish I could feel her lips.

‘Thanks,’ she says again, and when she turns and walks towards her front door, I only stand and look at her. I take all of her in. Her hair, neck, shoulders. Her back. Her jeans and her legs, walking. Her hands again, the bracelet and her fingers. Then her last smile, when she says, ‘Hey Cameron.’

‘Yeah?’

‘I might see y’ tomorrow. I think I’ll come down and have a look in the warehouse, even though I hate fights.’ She pauses a moment. ‘I hate betting at the dog track as well. I only go because the dogs are beautiful.’

I stand there.

Still.