Authors: Kate Forster
Andie sighed. Nikki had finally gone to rehab after being caught driving under the influence again. The gossip magazines were having a field day with the story, especially since James’s name had been cleared of the offences he’d covered up for her.
James and Andie avoided talking about Nikki – there was nothing to say. But deep down, Andie hoped she would be okay. Addiction was a bitch and hard to get over, she knew that from the stories James told about his mother. She was glad Nikki was finally getting some real help.
Andie left the magazine at the bottom of the pile and opened another one. A full-page picture of her and James stared back at her.
There she was, in her baby-pink prom dress, hair in a messy beehive. She was glowing, she thought as she looked at the picture. Her trademark slash of red lipstick clashed pleasingly with the soft pink of the dress.
James peered over her shoulder and read aloud in a playfully mocking tone. ‘Andie Powers, niece of Cece Powers, attended the ceremony with James Hawthorn. Powers’ rockabilly look stood out against the otherwise safe fashion choices of the evening. Her messy up-do bed-hair and red lipstick brought a little rock and roll to the event. Powers proudly showed off her new wrist tattoo of a dandelion – the perfect offset to what could have been a saccharine-sweet vintage dress.’
Andie stuck out her tongue. ‘Don’t! God, it’s so weird to see pictures of me in magazines.’
‘You looked amazing,’ James said and kissed her hand. ‘I love the way you dress. I remember the first time you came to my house. You were wearing a black dress and striped stockings, like a sexy witch casting spells on me. I couldn’t sleep that night, thinking of how wicked you might be.’
Andie laughed as she thought back to that day. She’d been so convinced James would want something different from her.
‘What are you smiling at?’ he asked, nuzzling her neck.
‘Just thinking,’ she said.
‘Stop thinking so much, it’s overrated.’ He moved his lips to hers. ‘Just kiss me,’ he whispered.
For a second, Andie experienced a flash of panic that everyone was watching and judging them. But as quickly as it came, it passed. Because for the first time in her life, Andie genuinely didn’t care what anyone thought of her.
In the past few weeks, it was as though she’d been set free from everything that had held her back in the past. Andie had realised that, of all the negative forces she thought she’d been battling – the force of her mother’s ideas and expectations, Cameron’s opinions, Marissa’s competitiveness – the biggest one was herself.
As the plane took off, Andie turned to James and kissed him passionately.
‘What will people think?’ he asked as he drew back, mocking her just a little.
‘Who cares?’ Andie said with a laugh.
1
It was barely daybreak as Georgia King ran into the national park, and the track was already busy. She usually hated the way the coastal path turned into a highway over the Christmas holidays, but on this particular morning nothing could have annoyed her. It was her first day in Noosa – the start of the summer holidays. Even running into a group of extra-slow walkers wearing matching tracksuits and expensive perfume couldn’t spoil her mood.
She slowed down at the lookout to put her hair up with a frangipani hair-tie from her wrist. It wasn’t exactly part of her standard running kit – Georgia had just grabbed it as she ran out of the apartment. It was her sister’s, but Alice wouldn’t need it while she was asleep. What she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.
Georgia ran down through the shady eucalypts, drawing in the view – the water impossibly blue, a string of surfers out beyond the breakers, waiting for the perfect wave. She was scanning the water for dolphins, like she’d done a million times before, when something even more gorgeous came into view. Or rather
someone,
wearing blue shorts and running towards her.
She had passed at least twenty people running along the track that morning – some older, some younger, some slower, some faster. A woman with so much make-up that she’d need a bulldozer to remove it. A guy with such bad BO that Georgia had to divert into the bush to find some uncontaminated air. But there had been nothing unusual about those people. They’d just come along the path in a completely conventional fashion – one foot after the other. Breathing in. Breathing out.
Somehow this guy in blue shorts (and not much else) was a different prospect altogether. It was like he was running towards
her –
as if they were the only two people in the universe at that moment. Georgia wanted to stop and stare. But she forced her legs onwards.
She kept jogging as though everything was completely normal, dropping her eyes to the ground, willing herself to focus on the track. The distance between them grew smaller. Tension built between her shoulders. She felt like there were caterpillars doing a gymnastics routine in her belly. She seemed to be making no progress at all. It was like running in quicksand.
Try as she might, Georgia just couldn’t keep her eyes on the path. The guy kept drawing her gaze towards him like a magnet. She tried not to stare at his sixpack working away. Instead, she imagined possible rescue plans in case anyone stumbled off the track into Granite Bay. Some people listened to music, but Georgia liked to dream up medical emergency scenarios while she ran. She thought it was a sign of her great potential as a doctor. But not even an emergency plan could distract her from his dark hair and smooth skin for long.
Georgia snatched another look at his face – unmasked by sunglasses. He was definitely a newcomer to the Queensland sun.
When he was just metres ahead, she could have taken a sudden interest in something way out to sea, like she normally did when a cute guy ran past. But this time she didn’t.
Georgia looked straight into his green eyes and smiled. Not just a little up-curl-of-the-lips smile. A proper, teeth-flashing, you’re-gorgeous-and-that’s-why-I’m-smiling-at-you smile.
Was it a surge of post-exam relief or the liberation of the holiday atmosphere that made her do it? Or was it just a touch of sunstroke? Who knew. All Georgia knew was that it happened, and she couldn’t have stopped it if she’d tried.
‘Good morning,’ he said with a smile that hinted at a set of perfect white teeth.
There was a moment, as his well-rounded vowels made their way from his lips to her ears, when their eyes locked. In that split second, the words
good
morning
seemed so much more than a greeting used before midday. They held endless possibilities – the beginning of a holiday romance, the start of a beautiful friendship, the dawn of a whole new era.
Then, just as she needed to cement the fledgling relationship, her throat dried up.
‘Hello,’ Georgia croaked, in a voice as melodious as a dying cane toad. She fought for saliva to repeat herself. But it was too late. The vision in blue shorts pounded by, taking with him all the possibilities that had seemed so, well,
possible
only a second before.
Georgia cursed herself. What was she doing grinning away at a complete stranger? Who did she think she was – a supermodel? A supermodel could smile at any guy she liked, but Hot Running Guy was right out of
her
league. In fact, she wasn’t even talking leagues here. It was more like parallel universes.
Georgia was so focused on her failed exchange with Hot Running Guy that she didn’t notice her sister’s pink frangipani hair-tie working its way out of her ponytail. It didn’t even register until she felt her hair clinging to her shoulders.
She stopped mid-stride and patted her head, feeling for the hair-tie. It was gone. It was only a hair-tie, but it was her sister’s. Alice was unforgiving. Georgia spun around, looking back along the path for the pink flower. Her heart skipped a beat. The frangipani wasn’t hard to spot. It was in the right hand of Hot Running Guy. He was a few metres away, running along the track with the special delivery.
His parallel universe was about to collide with hers, and Georgia was powerless to stop it. She didn’t
want
to stop it, but she needed some time to prepare for the impact. Instead, she just watched him approach, her heart thumping in her chest. Her mind, normally full of useful information, went completely blank.
The guy stopped in front of Georgia and held out the hair-tie, the flower dangling between his fingers. ‘You dropped this.’
Georgia stretched out her hand. ‘Thank you,’ she tried to say. But she might have just said, ‘kyou’. She was choking on her nerves.
Georgia stared at the synthetic flower, trying to make sense of it. Why had this guy chased her down the track to return a hair-tie? Was he just being thoughtful, or was there more to it? There was no clue in the frangipani, so she looked into his face for an explanation.
He gave her a smile – a small smile that gave nothing away. Her eyes scanned his face, taking in his perfect skin. His green eyes – every bit as seductive as the sea on a hot day – pulled her in and locked her there. She could have sworn that the surf stopped crashing on the shore. For a moment the birds lost interest in their morning chorus. Everything that had seemed possible, then impossible, was suddenly possible again.
Then the guy dropped his gaze. He turned his head and, without another word, took off down the track. Georgia’s dreams of summer romance took off after him.
He cruised into the distance, leaving her standing on the track. A list of questions filled her head. How had he found her hair-tie when he was running in the opposite direction? Did he just
happen
to turn round at the right moment and spot the frangipani falling from her hair, or had he been watching her?
He disappeared around a bend in the track. Georgia knew she wouldn’t get any answers here. There was nothing left to do but move on. She took a breath and headed off towards Hell’s Gates. The world around her came back into focus. But no matter where she looked, Georgia couldn’t shake the memory of those green eyes, and the caterpillars were doing cartwheels in her belly again.
Unlucky Break
published in 2013 by
Hardie Grant Egmont
Ground Floor, Building 1, 658 Church Street
Richmond, Victoria 3121, Australia
eISBN 9781743580028
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers and copyright holders.
A CiP record for this title is available from the National Library of Australia.
Text copyright © 2013 Kate Forster
Illustration and design copyright © 2013 Hardie Grant Egmont
Cover design by Stephanie Spartels