eye-liner. He wanted to tell her she looked beautiful, but instead he found himself saying, âYou never dress up like that for me.â
She kept her eyes fixed on the mirror. âThatâs because you donât take me out to nice places.â
âI didnât know you wanted to go to nice places.â
She glanced over her shoulder. âEvery girl wants to go to nice places.â
âBut I donât have enough money. Busking barely pays for anything.â
âWell you better get someâif you want to keep me.â
She turned and narrowed her eyes, then smiled, and moved in to kiss him. And all Andrew could think was that tonight she looked, smelled and moved differently from the Heidi he knew. Older. She even seemed to kiss him differently. There was so much about her that he didnât know, that she wouldnât let him see.
He pulled away. âYouâre not going to hook up with Sam, are you?â
She rolled her eyes and sighed. The music stopped and Jade shouted, âCâmon Heidi, letâs go.â
A car horn sounded out the front and Heidi turned past Andrew and blew him a kiss.
âWhy canât you party in Byron?â Tim called after Jade. âWhy the Gold Coast?â
âI told youâSam wants to meet some of the people I work with. For business.â
âThis is bullshit!â Tim shouted.
âSeeya boys!â Jade twinkled her fingers on her way past Andrew. She looked hot too, he thought, in a red silk camisole, tiny denim shorts and high heels.
The front door closed behind the girls, and Andrew headed back to the living room. He paused to look at the cards laid out on the table. âDo you want to finish the game?â
âSheâs sleeping with someone else,â Tim replied. âIâm sure of it.â
âHeidi?â
âNo, idiot! Jade!â He kicked the back of the couch, clutched his foot and swore, then stormed down the hallway, snatching his car keys on the way out. The Valiantâs tyres screeched as he took off up the street.
Ten minutes later, Andrew was listening to Pink Floydâs The Wall and rolling a joint, when Tim rushed into the living room, panting for breath.
âShit, Andy! I crashed it! I crashed the Val.â
Andrew stood up. âAre you okay? Is anyone hurt?â
âNo oneâs hurt. Itâs the car, Andy. The fucking car.â
âDonât worry about the car,â Andrew said. âWe can get the car fixedâ âNot mine. The other car.â
âWhy? What is it?â
âIt looks expensive.â
âDid anyone see you?â
âI donât know,â Tim said. âWhat should I do?â
Andrew looked at the smashed headlight and dented side panel as the Valiant rumbled past him in the driveway. He closed the gate, picked up a beach towel from the verandah and threw it over the damaged panel.
âWhat now?â Tim said.
The engine ticked as it cooled off, making even nicks in the night air.
Andrew could smell burnt clutch. âHave you got any paint stripper?â
âWhat for?â
âHave you got any, or not?â
Andrew stopped when Tim pointed out the car. It was a Maserati, probably worth over a hundred thousand. Tim had scratched a long jagged groove along the length of the passenger side.
âLooks expensive, hey?â Tim whispered.
âIt is,â he replied. âLetâs scrub it and get out of here.â
Together, they ran towards the car. Andrew poured paint stripper along the length of the scratch and Tim scrubbed it with an old T-shirt. Just as they finished the job, someone shouted from a nearby house.
Panting, Andrew slammed the front door behind him and followed Tim into the living room. He sat down to finish rolling his joint, while Tim put on Neil Youngâs Harvest Moon .
âDo you think anyone followed us?â Tim asked.
âI donât think so.â
Tim paced