Finding Abby

19

My house is dark when Finn rolls the Sandman up on the glittering rain-covered grass in front. The wind is wild and catches in the trees that surround the footy oval opposite. It's weird because usually the lounge light is on, or the light in Mum's bedroom shines out the side. But no. It's dark and closed up. I check my phone. No messages from Ben. It's eerie.

"Doesn't look like anyone's home," Finn says, squinting through the rain at the house.

It's so toasty inside the car I don't want to get out. I don't want to leave Finn. Being apart from him seems like one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

Finn pops the mixtape out of the cassette player before he turns off the engine and flicks the inside light on. We fiddle around inside cleaning up and making sure we leave the back of the van how it was when we found it. Finn curls up the sleeping bag and folds the jackets. I pack my things into my bag, pushing the tape back into the cover and shoving it and the journal deep inside my bag. When we're done, we sit back in the front in the darkness with the wind shaking the car.

"Well," I say.

Finn's eyes shine in the dim streetlight. He grins then looks away from me out the windscreen. I see him take a breath in. He shifts in his seat; picks at the steering wheel.

"J?"

"Yes, Finnigan?"

The wind whistles through the trees and, now the heater's off, the chill starts to creep in.

Finn keeps gazing into the blackness through the windscreen and I look at his soft profile.

"Imagine if we could keep driving," he says softly.

It would be incredible to keep going. Keep heading west all the way to Adelaide. We could stop on the way, do whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted. We could be together all the time. I hug my backpack to my chest and wish it could be that easy.

Finn turns to me.

"Thanks Finn," I say and hope he knows how much I mean it. He doesn't say anything back but his eyes get that serious, solemn look. I lean towards him and kiss him gently. His lips are pillowy and warm and when I pull back, he's still got that grave expression.

"Don't worry about me, Finn."

"Okay."

"I've got some shit to sort out."

"I know."

"And if we kept driving," I say, twisting the strap of my backpack around my hand, "I'd probably fall in love with you so, you know, there's that."

Finn chuckles but then his eyes go soft on mine, "Aren't you in love with me already?"

I look over his face. He seems so much older than a few days ago. I don't know what it is about him that's changed. Or maybe it's me. Or maybe he was pretty mature in the first place. I straighten up and take a long breath in before I release it. Of course I'm in love with Finnigan O'Connor. But what's love anyway? Is it this deep longing that I have for him right now where I can't bear to leave him? Is it the way my heart feels enormous in my chest when I'm around him? Is it the way when we're together time seems to disappear?

"You forgot about Mr Chiodoni," I joke to change the subject. It's too much right now.

Finn crinkles his nose. "You'd go for Chinos over me? His pants are way too tight. He's obviously got no balls—"

"Nothing wrong with tight pants—"

"No balls though?"

"You got me there."