Page 136 of Begin Again Again

Byron looked up at the pub. One beer. Just one. He could drink it while he thought this Beth-love thing through. That was the best way to do it. He reached for the car door and caught himself just in time. “Fuck.”

He turned the engine back on—when had he turned it off?—and pulled away, stomach aching. Five minutes later he stopped at Caltex and bought a Snickers.

Can’t be good for you, mate.

“Fuck off,” he told the voice. “Just… get fucked.”

He was halfway through his chocolate when Siri announced Sal was calling. He hit the answer button, wondering if they and Derek had finally had a blow up about 100 gecs, and the volume at which it should be played. “Hey, Sal. How’s it going?”

“Good. Great. Hi.”

The hairs on the back of Byron’s neck prickled. “What? What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I’ll be out of your place by tonight.”

Byron’s mouth felt heavy with chocolate and crushed peanuts. “You’re not going back to Mum and Dad’s?”

“I’d rather fucking die. I’m going to be a housesitter.”

“Like Beth?”

“Exactly. I went and saw her—she’s helping to set up my housesitting account. I’ve had a look and there’s tonnes of places in Sydney and the Gold Coast.”

Byron felt like he’d skipped several steps in an instruction manual. “Wait, you mean like… you went to Beth’s place?”

“Yeah, the one in St Kilda. Anyway, I’m almost back to yours and I’m going to clear out and stay with Klaus. We’re thinking about heading up to New South tomorrow while the border’s still open.”

Byron put his half-eaten snickers on the passenger seat. “Sal, seriously, what are you…? You’re not seriously going interstate tomorrow?”

“I am,” Sal said cheerfully. “You know Wollongong? Near Sydney? That’s where Klaus’ cousin is. We should be able to crash with them until I can get a housesitting place.”

“What are you gonna do for money?”

Sal laughed. They sounded manic. “I’m setting up an OnlyFans.”

“OnlyFans…” Byron’s head felt like it was splitting open. “You’re not serious?”

“Why do you keep saying that? Of course, I’m serious. I’m going to do that and travel and do some pet-sitting on the side. Maybe dance as well.”

“Dance?” His stomach turned over. “So, you’re going to Sydney to be a…”

“Be a what?”

He didn’t say anything.

“Seriously, be a what? Astripper? Because you’ve never been to the strippers, have you, Byron?”

He sagged in his seat. “You haven’t thought this through.”

“Why? Becauseyouthink it’s a bad idea?”

“Anyone would think this is a bad idea!”

“Fuck you!”

“Sorry! Jesus!” He pounded his steering wheel.“Sal, it’s not about what I think. You can do what you want. But if you do this, there’s no coming back.”

“From what? Having people know what my tits look like?”

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