Page 5 of Sugarloaf Ridge Lies

Chapter Two

Liv

“I’ve been meaning toask. How’d you fare after the bonfire?” Nat takes another donut and leans back in the worn leather chair of the teacher’s lounge. It’s been two weeks since we’ve seen each other, with the Easter break. Not that it was much of a break for me. It was spent lesson planning, finalising mine and my aunt’s taxes, and unpacking the last of my things from the move. I couldn’t stand the boxes sitting there any longer.

“A little dusty but okay.” I’m too proud to admit I found myself hovering over the toilet bowl, trying to make myself sick. Maybe it was something I ate.

I move over to the window. The fencer hasn’t returned this morning.

My stomach sinks.

I barely spent any time with him, and yet I can’t stop thinking about him. The strength in his body, yet the grace and rhythm in which he moved...

Will I ever lay eyes on him again? Did we dance our last dance?

As much as I want to see him again, I keep my thoughts to myself. I don’t want to come across as desperate. The last thing I need is for Nat to think I’m on the hunt for a man. She’ll sign me up for the next singles dance before my next breath. I won’t be a wallflower. If I’m going to meet someone, I’d rather it be in a more organic, spontaneous way.

Like being swept off my feet by a tall devilishly good-looking stranger by the campfire on a cool April night...

“I need to pee,” Nat says and chuckles to herself. “I’ll see you later.”

Nat rushes from the room, a woman on a mission. I laugh and pack up my lunch container then return to my classroom. There are numbers for little people to count, words to teach and art to create.

***

Glitter is born ofthe devil. I’m convinced of it.

I was excited. Too many different types of glitter, I fear the carpet tiles will never look the same. I’ll have to take it easier on future projects. The kids won’t be the only ones trying to wash it from their skin for the next few days. And how do kids manage to get glue literally everywhere? Crazy stuff.

After cleaning up and feeding our new class pet, Hermie McHermit-Crab-Face, my weary feet carry me from the old, brick building. My car is the only one left in the carpark.

As I fumble for my keys, the strange shape of my back tyre catches my eye. “It’s flat, dammit.” I crouch down to inspect it. The car was making a funny sound this morning, but I figured it was a loose mudguard or something.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Do they even have roadside assistance around here? How long would I have to wait?

A bang comes from nearby. When I spy him from afar, my mouth goes dry. The dark-haired fencer hauls equipment into the back of a beat-up white Ute parked behind the gum trees at the edge of the playground. He packs away his tools in the back tray with ease.

Troubled, Gareth said.He failed to mention his smooth moves...

He secures the tailgate. When he walks around to the driver’s side of his Ute, our eyes connect. It stops him in his tracks.

My heart quickens as I wave.

With a tilt of his head, he strides towards me. “Workin’ late, huh?”

“Yeah,” I breathe, not knowing what else to say.

His gaze diverts to the misshapen tyre. “Need some help?”

My shoulders drop. I hate that I don’t know how to do this. Dad was never one to spend time with me, let alone to do something so mundane and get his hands dirty. “Please. That’d be great.”

“Righto, let’s get the spare.”

“I’ve never had to change a tyre before, but I want to learn.”

He offers me a soft smile. There’s no judgement in his eyes. “How ’bout you pop the boot and I’ll get it out.”

“Right.” I pull the lever beside the steering wheel and the boot unlocks. The man pulls up the grey flooring to reveal a tyre-shaped hole with no freakin’ tyre.

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