Soaking it all in, I sit with my back to the giant pimple of a reservoir that marrs the beauty of this place; its only good deed is the shadow it casts on days like this. I can see rooftops and trees from here, see the hills that surround us. All I can hear is the breeze and the bird calls. The approaching night always forces me home. Being up at the reservoir on twilight can get spooky, especially walking that dirt road. No way do I want to be there. Not because I am scared of spirits or stupid creatures, but a girl walking a darkened road at night has a lot to worry about.

I shut my eyes and try to find some peace.

I pop my headphones back in and switch to Tupac’s ‘California Love’, getting ready to head home, when I hear a car coming up the road. I know it isn’t Uncle Joe because of the sound of the engine, but I still feel guilty being up here. Too shame to do much else, I bend over and pretend to be fiddling with my Discman, trying to think what a normal kid might do in this place. It isn’t long till an old silver Holden comes bouncing over the grid, growling its way into my sanctuary. Toni Miller’s car, Sam’s mum. I feel all my muscles tense up. I’m here on my own with most of my mob out searching for Laney and the Millers are heading my way. Not a good place to be. My breath hitches, waiting to see who will get out of the car.

The car bears down on me at a speed that feels unsafe. I see Sam’s pissed-off face in the driver’s seat just as it skids to a halt. His door flies open and he comes right at me, but I’m watching to see who else might get out. He’s leaning over me before I realise no one else is coming.

‘Who the FUCK do you think you are?’

Having an enraged seventeen-year-old male standing over them might cow some girls, but not this little black duck. I am on my feet in seconds, forcing him to take a step back, returning the glare.

‘Alana Thomson’s daughter. Who the FUCK are you?’

The look of shock on his face hits my warped funny bone and I bust out laughing. Sam’s lip twitch before he remembers he’s pissed off.

‘Yeah? Well, that’s even more reason to have stayed the fuck away!’ Sam’s rage has calmed, but he hangs on to it.

‘Well excuse me for asking you to help. I won’t do it again, dickhead!’

Not really helping, a small voice tries to interject. But fuck him, I won’t be talked to like that.