Caleb squirmed. He wasn’t an emo goth anymore. Life had proven there was no point in protesting. Once, he’d wanted to upset Dad, to impress Penelope. But he no longer cared what he looked like. Now he knew he was a fat, bland young man in a suit. His hair had returned to its natural light brown. He loved Mum but fire was consuming their relationship, like it had already destroyed his relationship with Penelope.

The first time Penelope properly noticed him, Caleb had watched her sprint from the Brunton Newsagency, yellow and pink hair flying behind her like a flag.

‘Help me! I’ve been spotted!’ She clutched his sleeve, laughing. ‘Caleb!’

She knew his name! Caleb grabbed her hand and pulled her into a lane leading to a parking lot behind the CFA station where he had just begun volunteering.

Penelope continued laughing, struggling for breath at the same time. ‘Where now?’

Footsteps slapped the asphalt laneway they’d exited. Someone chasing them. Caleb fished around in his pocket for a key, pulling it out triumphantly. Penelope stayed close by. Her body was very warm. His key opened a nearby door. The footsteps continued. Someone panting.

Caleb ducked inside and pulled Penelope after him, closing the door quickly and quietly. In the darkness Penelope’s fingers, hot and soft, were locked in his. ‘Shh,’ he said.

She clamped her other hand over her mouth. Caleb slid to the window. A narrow space between the venetians and the frame allowed the sliver of a view. He watched their local newsagent come into view, running. The man stopped outside, hands on hips, peering around.

Penelope’s breath was moist against Caleb’s ear.

‘He really wants you,’ Caleb said.

Penelope giggled. That single sunray slanted over her face, illuminating flecks of pink and gold in her hair. The light hit her eyes. He noticed, for the first time, that there were streaks of goldish-toned green in them. ‘What did you do?’ he asked.

Penelope pulled a shiny page from her pocket. ‘I tore it from a magazine. It’s a voucher. Free hair colour. Would I look cute as a mauve-head?’

Caleb liked her hair yellow. She reminded him of happiness and sunshine, with that streak of pink, like fairy floss.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said. ‘The thing is I did it. And I didn’t get caught.’

The newsagent revolved slowly, pushing hands deep into his pockets then walking back up the laneway towards the street.

‘And I’m here!’ Penelope grinned as if this was what she’d wanted. She pressed herself against him.

‘Didn’t the newsagent recognise you?’ Caleb waved at her hair. ‘You’re pretty… distinctive.’

‘Pretty… distinctive?’ Penelope pulled a scarf from her pocket, covered her head and morphed into an older woman. ‘Not when I’m wearing this.’

She winked. Her disguise melted. ‘You saved me,’ she said. ‘Do you know what I want?’

Caleb shook his head.