Finding Abby

13

Finn sits across from me in a tiny, grimy Greek café a short walk from the house at Bliss Street. The four tables are full. We're lucky to get a seat. Finn orders a bottle of white wine. He doesn't know which one to order so he asks for the House Wine. He has to show his I.D. to the surly waiter with the thick neck and striped apron because he doesn't believe Finn is eighteen. He's only just turned eighteen. He had a party. We all got stupid drunk on his dad's spirits and went to Zee's house to play Just Dance on his X-Box. The waiter didn't ask for my I.D. His eyes wandered suspiciously over my messed-up hair and scratched skin, but he'd nodded and taken our order.

"I told you, I look like Bellatrix. Obviously I look like I need a drink," I whisper to Finn as the waiter places two large wine glasses on the table in front of us. I consider my upcoming birthday and wonder what it's going to be like. Will Minda be home from India by then? Will I even be allowed back home with Mum after all of this?

"You'll be eighteen soon, it's no diff," Finn smiles at me. He sniffs under his arm pit. "Geez, I really need a shower. I sweated too much during the drive. I was paranoid I was gonna hurt the car."

"Sorry for dragging you into this," I say, as Finn fills our glasses full. "Where are we even gonna sleep tonight?"

Finn shrugs my apology off. "The van? I'm pretty sure Ben's got a sleeping bag and pillows in the back."

"But we can't wait outside the house forever," I say. "Can we?"

Finn picks up his glass and holds it up to me; waits for me to 'cheers' him. "We can wait as long as you want."

I clink my glass against his, feeling all adult. "It's like I'm living in an alternate reality and, at some point, I'm gonna open my eyes and I'll be back home on the couch watching Neighbours."

The café door opens sending a brush of cool air around the café. A man with trendy, cropped blonde hair and a sharp business suit walks in. I stare at him. It's like the thing I learned in marketing at school - if you want something, it suddenly appears everywhere around you. If you want to buy a fridge, a hundred fridges are for sale and all the fridge ads pop out at you. Now I'm looking for my dad and I'm in Melbourne with Ben's clues around me - anyone I see could be my dad. Anyone. I glance at the blonde businessman again but he's being corralled outside by the waiter – there's nowhere to sit; restaurant's full. I touch the wristband reassuringly and watch as he heads off down the street. If he is my dad, I'll know soon enough.

Finn sips on his wine and grimaces. "I don't know if House Wine was the best decision. I need Alex to help me order."

I try the wine and it's acidic and harsh on the roof of my mouth. I don't mind it. It's warm as it goes down. Across the table Finn checks his phone. He holds it up to show me a picture Alex sent of some kind of glossy looking cake.

"Apparently this is the future of dessert. Spanish flan."

"I could go one of them right now," I laugh. I'm so hungry. Finn must be famished.

"I'd eat the whole thing."

"You'd have to fight me for it."

Finn laughs and I catch his eye. I sip at my wine and look at him over the top of my glass. A dash of toast-coloured freckles; suntanned nose. He always has this natural smile. No matter what mood he's in, he's always smiling. A tug deep inside me pulls towards him and I know it's not the wine.

"Did you tell Alex where we are?"

Finn shakes his head. "Only that we're in Melbourne. Nothing else. Heard from Minda?"

I open my phone and show him a picture she's sent me. Minda is dressed in blue Sari and she's sitting next to an old man — it must be her dada — who is lying on a flamboyant couch covered in gold and aqua cushions and blankets. Minda has a smile like someone's made her pose for the photo. The old man's hand is draped over the arm of her chair, but she looks like she has no desire to touch it, or him.