I set my fork down. ‘Suck out your eyeballs?’ Talking about dislocated eyeballs had killed my appetite all of a sudden.

  ‘He’s an ophthalmologist.’ Vaughan stabbed his fork into a wedge of kumara. ‘Ophthalmologists are paranoid about squash balls and eyes.’ He jabbed his fork around. ‘And forks and eyes. Anything and eyes, actually. I think all ophthalmologists have OCD.’ Vaughan talked possibly even more than Jamie.

  Astrid delicately speared a piece of pork belly. ‘So what’s the point you’re trying to prove?’

  ‘That I can get through a season of squash without losing an eyeball,’ Vaughan said around a mouthful of kumara. He swallowed. ‘Speaking of OCD, how’s your co-star doing?’

  ‘Fine,’ Jamie said, after a momentary hesitation. ‘Maddy Henderson would’ve been better, but so it goes.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Vaughan recklessly swished a finger through the candle flame. ‘Pity you couldn’t cite — what do they call it when couples get divorced? Irreconcilable differences?’

  When couples get divorced? I set my fork down again. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Jamie’s cheeks had turned rosé.

  ‘So,’ Astrid said brightly, ‘how are your studies going, Vaughan? Are you going to follow in your dad’s footsteps and go to medical school?’

  Vaughan said, ‘No way.’ He started listing reasons why he didn’t want to be a doctor, but I wasn’t listening. How could I, when I’d just learnt that Jamie was starring opposite his ex-girlfriend, his beautiful, talented, ex-girlfriend?

  And she had lots of hair.

  I hated her.

  Jamie squeezed my knee; whispered, ‘Are you OK?’

  I gritted my teeth. ‘I’m fine.’

  The only girl I want to kiss is you.

  I don’t believe you, James Orange. I. Don’t. Believe. You.

  The rest of dinner was excruciating. Dessert, too, even though it was Norwegian caramel pudding. Ordinarily my taste buds would have been swooning with delight, but I felt as if I had chemo-mouth again.

  ‘Well,’ Vaughan declared, once the plates and cutlery had been stacked in the dishwasher, ‘I’d better get home, or Mum will have a wildebeest.’

  ‘Thanks for coming, bro,’ Jamie said, and they did a fist pump. Vaughan nodded at me.

  ‘Nice to meet you, Alex. Jamie talks about you all the time. Like all the time.’ He flicked a lock of brown hair out of his eyes. ‘And good luck for your, um, transplant.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I glanced up at the clock hanging above the breakfast bar. Five past seven. Perhaps I could say I was tired and get Dad to pick me up early.

  ‘See you tomorrow, bro.’ Jamie disappeared into the hallway, and I heard a low murmur of voices. Astrid blew out the candles.

  ‘Would you like to sit in the lounge?’

  Before I could say, Actually, I’m really tired and think I’ll go home, Jamie walked back into the dining room and took me by the hand.

  ‘You have to come and see this photo, puss-cat. I’ve been waiting all night to show it to you.’

  I trailed after him, up the stairs and into his darkened room. Jamie flicked on the light and nodded at the wall opposite his bed.

  ‘What do you think?’ He closed the door behind us with a soft click.

  Crossing my arms, I said, ‘It looks good.’ My mind was still fogged with jealousy. But when I did look at it, really looked at it, the fog dissipated a little.

  ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘That’s — wow.’ The photo took up most of the wall. A flaxen moon bobbed above the horizon, casting an inverted V over the charcoal waters. Floating in front of the moon was an ethereal image of Jamie, my Opera Ghost, his hands raised to the heavens.

  ‘It’s more than wow.’ Jamie’s hands came down on my shoulders. ‘It blows my mind every time I see it.’

  Stiffening, I said, ‘I just used Photoshop and a prism. Anyone could do it.’

  ‘No,’ Jamie said. ‘They couldn’t.’

  He kissed the side of my neck, letting go of my shoulders. ‘What’s up, puss-cat?’

  ‘Nothing,’ I said, my skin tightening, until I felt like a turtle retreating into its shell. I sat on his bed and stared down at my socks. ‘I’m just tired, I guess.’ Questions screamed up the back of my throat.

  When did you go out with Frankie? For how long? And when were you going to tell me?

  I swallowed them back. Jamie sat beside me and draped his arm around my shoulders.

  ‘Tonight feels all weird,’ he said.

  ‘It does,’ I said, still staring at my socks. When had it started to go wrong? When I’d walked into the school hall and seen my boyfriend embracing another girl? Or before that, when I’d got out of Mum’s car and realised I was about to expose myself as Leukaemia Girl in front of Jamie’s classmates?

  ‘Whatever you’re thinking about me and Frankie, it’s wrong,’ he said, and the acid in my stomach began to boil. I pulled away.

  ‘Really? You said she had a receding chin.’

  ‘She does,’ he said, fiddling with his earring.

  ‘That’s not the point, and you know it.’ I stood up, clenching my fists at my sides.

  ‘There’s no point, Alex.’ Jamie jumped to his feet. ‘What happened between me and Frankie has nothing to do with us.’

  ‘It has everything to do with us.’ I knew I was yelling, knew Jamie’s mum could probably hear me, but I was past caring. ‘How could it not? How come you didn’t tell me before?’

  ‘Because this is exactly what I thought would happen,’ Jamie yelled back, his arms swinging around his head like Medusa’s snakes. ‘I knew, as soon as you saw her, that this is what would happen.’

  ‘Why? Because she’s beautiful?’

  ‘She’s not beautiful!’ Jamie flung his hands towards the ceiling. ‘Not in any way that counts. Jesus, Alex, how many times do I have to tell you that I think you’re the most astounding person I’ve ever encountered? That I think you’re more amazing than dew drops at sunrise, and the full moon rising, and the Milky Way?’

  ‘The Milky Way?’ I said in a small voice.

  ‘Frankie and I went out for four months, OK? Four months, and the whole time she tried to change me — the way I talked, and the way I dressed, and even my dreams.’

  ‘Your dreams?’ I stepped back, feeling the edge of his windowsill digging into the small of my back. ‘Like what?’

  ‘Does it matter?’ Jamie ran a hand over his glistening forehead. ‘The point is, she didn’t like the real me. She thought she could take the shell of me, and fill me with the person she wanted me to be. When I told her I had bipolar, she didn’t want to listen. The next day, she acted as if I hadn’t told her at all. Like she was embarrassed by me.’ His eyes shone. My stomach twisted.

  ‘You’re not embarrassing,’ I said in a low voice.

  ‘One day,’ he said, his chest rising and falling rapidly, ‘I’d like to wake up and not have to take any pills. I’d like a brain that behaved like everyone else’s. I’d like to not have people jumping down my throat every time I acted too happy, or too sad.’

  ‘No.’ I moved towards him, wrapped my hands around his arms. ‘I don’t— OG, I don’t want to change you. I love you just the way you are. But all I want is for you to tell me the truth.’

  ‘Sometimes,’ Jamie said, his eyes bottomless pools, ‘I don’t know what that truth is. How do you know?’

  ‘I don’t know, OG,’ I whispered. And I kissed him, and he kissed me back, and all I could taste was tears. His, mine, both, I don’t know. Pretty soon my hands found his bare skin, and his hands found mine. It wasn’t long until we ended up on his bed, limbs curling around each other.

  ‘Don’t be angry at me,’ he murmured.

  ‘I’m not angry at you,’ I murmured back, and I wasn’t, not anymore. But I was worried, because it still felt like something wasn’t right.

  How you haunt me, my Opera Ghost. I don’t know how to feel my way with you.

  ‘I’ve never been this close to anyone,’ he said, his heart thudding against my chest. He kissed me again and we rolled around the bed some more, shedding clothes like snakeskins until all that was left was our underwear. Hands above, hands below, and next he was lying on top of me, and if it weren’t for two layers of cotton then we’d be … we could …

  Jamie cupped my head in his hands and kissed me deeply.

  ‘Let’s get closer,’ he whispered. ‘Tonight.’

  ‘I want to,’ I whispered back, my head whirling. But I had to ask. I had to know. ‘Have you — have you done this before?’

  Jamie hesitated. I closed my eyes.

  ‘With her?’

  ‘Just her,’ he said, and my heart shrivelled, like a walnut. He groaned and rolled off me.

  ‘You shouldn’t compare yourself to Frankie,’ he said. ‘You’re not even in the same universe as her.’

  ‘I’m neither alive nor dead,’ I said, my hands pressed over my eyes. ‘Remember?’

  Jamie wrapped his fingers around my wrists. ‘You’re the morning sun on dew drops,’ he said. ‘You’re my full moon rising, my Milky Way.’

  ‘You’re full of it, OG,’ I whispered, but a crack had appeared in my walnut-shell heart. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. ‘I do want to. But not like this. We need to be alone.’

  ‘We are alone,’ he said, but then we both heard it, his mother’s footfall on the stairs.

  ‘Really alone,’ I said, sliding out of bed and scrambling for my clothes — bra, jeans, singlet.

  ‘This week,’ Jamie said, not moving even as Astrid’s footsteps stopped outside his bedroom door. I looked at him, with the sheet twisted around his sinewy limbs, and every cell in my body ached. Oh, to be alone, really alone with my Phantom.

  ‘Would you two like a hot drink?’ Astrid called out.

  ‘Yes, please,’ we chorused, but Jamie was still gazing at me, his eyes intense.

  ‘This week,’ I promised, and then raised my voice. ‘I’ll have tea, please.’

  ‘Me, too,’ Jamie called out. Once Astrid’s footsteps had faded away, he sat up, pulling me towards him. ‘I love you,’ he said. ‘You’re the first girl I’ve ever said that to. Do you believe me?’

  ‘I believe you, OG,’ I said, and my heart was spinning again, so fast I felt like I was about to fly into the Milky Way. ‘And I love your ghostly molecules, all the way to the next dimension and back.’

  ‘This week,’ Jamie repeated, like a mantra.

  ‘This week,’ I promised.

  CHAPTER 17

  NEITHER ALIVE NOR DEAD

  The next morning, I lay in the square of sun spilling through the ranch-sliders in our lounge. I was stretched out on my front, SC II a weighty presence in the small of my back, reading a book my English teacher had sent home for me.

  Mister Pip was good. No, more than good — it was so sad it was ripping my heart out, and yet my mind kept wandering.

  I sighed, and rolled onto my back. SC II tumbled off with a disgruntled meow, and migrated to my stomach instead.

  ‘I’m about to lose my virginity, SC II,’ I said, sinking my fingers into his fur. ‘Can you believe it?’

  SC II purred in reply, obviously pleased to be having such a candid conversation. It was lucky my mother was out doing the grocery shopping, or there was no way I’d be spilling the beans to my namesake.

  I reached for my phone and read Jamie’s last text message again.

  2.37 a.m. Mum’s got book club tonight. She’ll be out for at least 2 hrs. What do you think??

  ‘I think the Phantom needs to get more sleep,’ I said to SC II. He didn’t reply.

  I scrolled back through the rest of the messages from Jamie, twelve since I’d left his house eleven hours earlier. There were texts telling me he loved me, that he was studying, that he couldn’t study, that he couldn’t stop thinking about me. Sometimes I wondered how Jamie coped with all the thoughts buzzing around in his head.

  A new message flashed up on my screen.

  What you up to after school? Want to hang out? Nic?

  A mixture of happiness, tinged with guilt, flooded through me. I’d been neglecting my friends this week, in favour of spending as much time with Jamie as possible. But all of a sudden I felt like I needed to talk to someone other than Jamie, someone who knew me better than anyone.

  That would be awesome, I texted back. See you then!

  Nicole picked me up in a canary-yellow Fiat Bambina, one of the many cars her father had restored. As always, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit envious. Even if I got my licence, I knew there was no way I’d have a car of my own any time in the next five years.

  But it was so nice to be out with my best friend, just like old times. We wound over the hill to Taylors Mistake, the sunroof drawn back. The wind blew fresh breath into my lungs and the salt spray stung my eyes. It was all so beautiful compared with my sterile, HEPA-filtered room in the BMTU. I didn’t know if I could stand to go back.

  ‘What’ve you been up to?’ Nicole yelled over the whining of the engine.

  ‘Just hanging out,’ I yelled back, after contemplating but rejecting telling her about my radiation planning session that afternoon. I didn’t want to talk about anything to do with my leukaemia.

  ‘With you-know-who?’

  ‘His name is Jamie.’ I tilted my head back.

  ‘I’m having you on, Byrd-brain. So it’s still all on with you guys?’

  I glanced at her. ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’ Nicole’s hair was swept up in a ponytail, her eyes outlined with mascara and eyeliner. ‘How are things with you and Oliver, anyway?’

  Nicole looked over at me, her lips curving all the way to her ears. ‘We’re now officially a couple.’

  I whooped.

  ‘That’s awesome. When did that all happen?’

  ‘Last weekend,’ Nicole said, and my good mood faded a little. Why hadn’t she texted me straight away? And if she hadn’t messaged me, who had she messaged? Poppy?

  It’s not as if you’ve been messaging her with all your love-life updates, said a voice in my head, which sounded a lot like Grandma. Best friends are meant to share, and you’ve been pretty bad at that lately.

  ‘I was going to tell you,’ Nicole added. ‘But I thought it would be better to tell you in person. And before I knew it, it was Wednesday so, well, here we are.’

  ‘It’s OK.’ I took another deep breath. ‘So, when’s the ball?’ I was so out of touch. School was a distant memory, something that happened to other people.

  Nicole slowed as a truck approached us, but sped up again.

  ‘In three weeks.’ She glanced at me again. ‘If only it was a little earlier, then you and Jamie could have come, too.’

  I made a face. ‘Yeah, with my bald head and my Hickman line sticking out of the top of my dress. I don’t think so.’

  ‘It would have been fun. You could have worn a wig, even.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe,’ I said, not convinced. Anyway, I was kind of glad to be escaping the fuss of the ball and having to worry about whether my parents could afford to buy me the dress I really wanted, rather than some second-rate alternative.

  Nicole touched her foot to the brake, then accelerated out of the corner. ‘What about this weekend? What are you guys up to?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ The weekend? I couldn’t think past tonight.

  ‘I thought we could hang out, go to a movie or something. You and me, and Jamie and Oliver. What do you think?’ She cruised into the Taylors Mistake car park, and turned off the engine.

  ‘Sounds like a cooking programme,’ I said, plucking my camera case off the floor and opening the car door. The car was so low to the ground that I almost face-planted into the gravel when I got out. Nicole leaned over the top of the Bambina, her brow furrowed.

  ‘A what?’

  ‘Jamie Oliver,’ I said, and shook my head. ‘Never mind. Sure. Sounds good.’

  I turned to face the sea, a smile bursting out of me. I loved Taylors Mistake, loved the wild waves and the rhythmic booming filling the centre of my chest. I loved the quirky name, too. The story was that Taylor, the chief officer of a ship, had navigated into the bay, thinking it was Lyttelton Harbour, after the drunken captain threw himself overboard.

  What a wonderful mistake.

  I jogged down to the sand, my camera bag slapping against my thigh. A row of surfers bobbed out beyond the breakers, like seals. I stopped to snap off a few shots, trying to capture the feathering of the waves and the soft autumn light. After sinking into the sand, I took off my trainers and socks.

  Nicole sat beside me and leaned back on her hands.

  ‘Aren’t you cold?’

  ‘It makes me feel alive,’ I said, watching the sand spill between my toes.

  ‘You are alive.’

  ‘So far.’

  I could see Nicole didn’t know what to say to that, so I changed the subject. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t messaged you much lately. It’s just, well, I’m in love for the first time ever and it’s totally messing with my head.’

  She snorted. ‘I can see that.’

  ‘Is it that obvious?’

  Nicole shrugged. ‘You guys are soul mates, aren’t you?’

  ‘Are you being sarcastic?’ Sometimes it was hard to tell with Nicole.

  ‘No, I mean it. You guys are like flip sides of a coin. I haven’t seen much of Jamie, but I could tell from the way you were already finishing each other’s sentences when you’d barely known each other for a week. And you both come out with the weirdest things.’

  ‘Not weird,’ I said, frowning, and she laughed.

  ‘Weird in an interesting way.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I mean, I like Oliver, and he likes me. But you and Jamie seem like soul mates.’

  I smiled. ‘Yeah. I guess we are.’

  Nicole gave me a sly look. ‘So are you guys—’

  ‘Doing it?’ I gave her a gentle shove. ‘See, we can finish each other’s sentences, too.’

  Nicole shoved me back. ‘That’s because we’ve known each other since primary school, dork, not because we’re in lurve. So, are you?’

  ‘He wants to,’ I said, my cheeks glowing. I pushed my forehead into my knees. ‘So do I.’