My father tries to keep by my side, but I ignore him. He does point out a book on birds of prey that I know Lucy will appreciate. She’s replied to my message with a happy snap of Chirp pecking on a piece of watermelon. Her favourite treat. Lucy’s the best!

Did you mention the movie? I ask her.

Yep—told him there was an old film I like playing next week.

And?

He said he hasn’t seen it.

And?

That was it!

OMG Lucy! Ask him if he wants to go!

No!

Yes!

If he wanted to, he would have said so. Lucy adds a sad face.

Maybe he’s shy?

Argh!

I smile and put away my phone. My father flips through the bird book, explaining the local species, and I don’t think he notices I’m still avoiding his eyes. When he gets back from the trip, I’m sure I’ll feel better. It’s just knowing he’s about to go that’s stressing me out.

I pick out a hoodie with a cool graphic of mountains that will look hot on Oliver. Wish I could wrap myself up in his arms. At this thought, I feel bad once again for not mentioning Jaxon to him, but it’s too late now and it will seem way too weird to bring it up now. We’ll talk when I get home.

My father offers to pay, but I refuse, whipping out some American bills before he has a chance. I carry the big bag out of the store.

Jaxon’s waiting for us outside, on the phone, and he gives me a wave. We continue down Main Street and I pause at a trendy shop window, surprisingly hipster for Nowhere-Ville.

‘Sky dear, my feet are killing me,’ Miriam says. ‘You continue on and we’ll stop for a hot chocolate.’ She points to the cafe across the road.

‘No, it’s okay, I don’t need to,’ I say with a longing glance at the store.

‘Don’t be silly. We’ll meet you there.’

‘Yes, come on, Sky, let’s go in.’ My father opens the door for me.

We leave Jaxon still on the phone, waving his arms excitedly as he discusses speaker quality with Trent for their show.

Inside the store, I run my fingers over the racks of shirts and jackets, pausing to take a few out. The shopkeeper comes over to explain that it’s a local brand, eco fabrics, made in the USA, now selling in ten cities across the country. She points to a framed article on the wall. The New York Times: Alaskan sisters take their coffee-table designs to the world. They’ve moved to LA now, of course.

‘Is this leather?’ I ask, pulling out a worn-looking brown jacket.

‘Recycled rubber. Wouldn’t believe it, would you? The entire line is vegan friendly.’ She points to a leafy symbol on the windowpane.