Gold Digger

5. Make A Mess

Danica Li-Quinn loves having all the things, all the people, and all the attention to herself. She generally doesn't thrive on sharing. Or empathy. Or truth telling (unless it's of the viciously brutal kind). Dani's hard-wired to be an only child. Which is problematic, considering she's my sister.

Problematic but predictable. So predictable that I don't bother being surprised when I come downstairs at 6:15am to find her waiting in the kitchen. The keys to our shared car dangle from her fingers; a small silver Audi I'm six months too young for and which she's only allowed to drive if she gives me a lift wherever I need to go.

For insanely smart people, my parents are ridiculously naïve.

Dani sits on a white barstool at the island bench, silently watching me pack my lunch. As always, she's impeccably put together—make-up subtle and flawless, a jet black waterfall of hair spilling neatly over her shoulders, and her favourite coconut body lotion tickling my nose. With Dani wearing it, the standard navy, green and white school dress and blazer combo attains a level of style it really doesn't deserve. I'm the contrasting 'before' picture—face bare, top knot messy, and hem hastily fastened into place with three wonky staples.

"Want a lift?" Her tone is deceptively friendly.

"No, thank you." I pop an extra chocolate chip cookie into my chiller bag just in case someone tries to steal mine today.

"Oh, I wasn't offering to drive you. I'm meeting Tamsin and Pia for brekkie before school."

"Enjoy." I smile sweetly.

She frowns, annoyed I've failed to take the bait. But this isn't my first rodeo, and Dani's been trying to buck me off the proverbial bronco since kindergarten.

"Is your new boyfriend driving you to school?" The edges of her amiable façade c***k like burnt sugar.

"No."

"It won't last," she sneers. "You can't seriously think a guy like Hunter Viera is going to be satisfied with a girl like you."

"Whatever, Dani." I fill my drink bottle with cold water from the fridge and slip it into my bag.

"You had no right to go there, Darcy." She's openly angry now. "You knew I wanted him."

"He's not an accessory, Dani. You can't call dibs on a human being."

"You're such a deceitful cow. I hope he gives you herpes."

Charming.

I sling my schoolbag over my shoulder and make to move out of the kitchen, but Danica beats me to it, shoving me in the back as she storms past. She yanks the front door open just as the doorbell rings, no doubt ready to vent her frustration at whoever is on the other side.

"Rude! Do you know how early it... Hh... H... Hunter. Hh... Hi."

"Morning, Danica." His voice is deep and unfairly attractive. "You ready, babe?" He directs the 'babe' over Dani's shoulder at me with the hint of a smirk.

"Stop it," I silently mouth at him.

His smirk becomes a full-blown grin. "You're looking extra beautiful this morning, babe. Did you do something different with your hair?"

"Let's go," I mutter, grabbing him by the arm and spinning him off our porch.

"Sure thing, babe," he calls over his shoulder.

"Cease and desist, Viera."

"I don't think I can. It's too much fun."

I nudge him in the ribs as we walk towards the bus stop. He laughs, slinging an arm around my shoulder like we've been friends forever. In some odd way, it feels like we have. He's not what I expected, this bear of a boy.

If Archer looks like a golden angel, Hunter is darkness and chaos on the rise. He's taller, broader, and harder, with glittering hazel eyes and wavy hair the same shade as smoky quartz. Hunter's the type of guy predestined to be popular based on looks and athleticism alone, yet he keeps to himself, hiding behind books and floppy hair and the deadpan arched eyebrow thing he does so well.

Since he rocked up at Granville on the first day of school three weeks ago, half my year level has tried and failed to get to know Hunter Viera. He's the new kid. The Adonis. An enigma. The rumours surrounding his standoffishness have been plentiful. He's dating a famous actress. His last school expelled him. He's in witness protection.

Not a single story has hinted at the truth: that Hunter Viera is a brother in mourning.

Maybe I'm reading too much into it—after all, I barely know the guy—but his grief seems more obvious in this morning's flippant teasing and slightly manic cheer than it ever was in his quiet stoicism. I think he's nervous.

"Are you checking me out, Li-Quinn?" Hunter asks, taking a seat on the metal bench at the bus stop and gesturing for me to join him.

"You know my last name. That's sweet," I quip, echoing his words from yesterday.

He laughs again, a velvety sound that runs down my spine like melted chocolate. He's grinning, but his eyes are pinched in the corners and his jaw's clenched tight. Operating on instinct alone, I take a seat, grab his hand and squeeze. He squeezes back.

We're still holding hands when the bus rumbles to a stop in front of us, a fact that doesn't escape Mrs Rossi's shrewd gaze. "Introduce us to your strapping lad, Darcy, my girl," she says, as Hunter and I make our way down the aisle. Maggie's smile brims with excited conjecture. Hamish and Aki grin like carnival clowns.

I mumble introductions on autopilot, too focused on the Viera brothers to register much else. Archer's frozen like he's seen a ghost—which is ironic considering his current predicament. Hunter stares back, his gaze never wavering. But he's squinting slightly, and frowning, like he's looking into the midday sun. Like he's looking where I told him Archer would be. Looking. But not seeing.

Shit.

Archer realises Hunter can't see him at the same moment I do, and he deflates like a slow leaking balloon. Before I've given it conscious thought, I'm sitting beside him and holding a boy's hand for the second time in as many minutes.

"Hey, hey," I whisper to Archer. "We'll figure it out."

Hunter folds his large self into my usual seat across the aisle and eyes me warily. "Is he there?" he asks.

I nod.

"How can I believe you?" Hunter says, doubt clouding his every feature. "This is stupid."

Beside me, Archer clears his throat. "We both have a freckle on the inside of our right ankles; I never put the lid on the toothpaste because I know it drives him nuts; and I named my car Roberta after the old lady who used to babysit us..."

"... because she was slow but feisty," Hunter whispers after I relay this to him. "f**k, Arch... I..."

"I know, bro. I know."

Hunter sucks in a shaky breath. "What happened to you? They said it was a break-in gone wrong, but I just..."

"A break-in..." Archer looks thoughtful. "At the shop, you mean?"

"You worked in a shop?" I momentarily forget my translation duties. "You don't strike me as the retail worker type?"

Archer laughs. "What exactly are you implying, Queen of the Bus? I could do retail. The Karens and their daughters love me! But the baby bro means 'workshop'. I'm a mechanic. Or, at least, I was going to be.... I guess I'm forever an apprentice now." His smile wobbles.

"What's he saying?" Hunter hisses across the aisle.

"He wants to know if the robbery was at the shop?"

Hunter nods. "They trashed the place and jimmied the till. Arch had..." His voice cracks. "Archer's boss found him on the floor. Head wound. They think it was a single hit from behind."

"I... I can't remember," Archer says. "It's been three weeks and I don't remember."

"It's been longer than that," I tell him. "You've been dead almost six months."

Archer flinches, the clenched muscles in his arm accentuated by shifting ink. "Lily," he growls. "Find Lily. Now."

"Lily?" I ask.

Across the aisle, Hunter rises from his seat and pushes the 'next stop' button. "Whatever my brother's asking, the answer's 'no'."

"You don't mean that," I say.

"Like hell, I don't."

An hour and a train ride later, Hunter and I stride up an oak-lined suburban street on the other side of town. I still don't know who Lily is or why she's suddenly so time critical that I'm skipping school. Archer pleaded, Hunter conceded, and then they sat in stony silence until the bus reached the city, refusing to talk to each other or to me. Hunter's been sulky and stormy ever since. Sixty minutes into the silent treatment, my patience is wearing wafer thin.

"So do you work hard at this whole 'acting like a d**k thing', or did it come free with the square jaw and the chiselled abs?" I ask.

Hunter shudders to a stop on the pavement and lets out a low groan. "s**t, Darcy, I'm sorry. You're right, I'm being a total dick."

"Did I do or say something...?" To my horror, my voice sounds small and needy. Even though I absolutely know better, Dani's wormed her way into my head. While Hunter's been silently seething, my traitorous brain's been playing "he's never going to be satisfied with a girl like you" on whispered repeat. Not that Hunter and I are anything. And not that I want us to be. But sometimes, Danica's insistence that I'm a worthless simp finds a c***k in my armour and festers like gangrene.

"s**t, no!" Hunter hooks a finger gently under my chin and guides my gaze up to his. "You've been amazing, Darcy, seriously. I couldn't have faced this morning, or this"—he gestures vaguely in front of us—"without you."

"What is it we're facing, Hunter?" I mirror his gesturing. "Who's Lily?"

He sighs and runs a hand across the back of his neck. "Lily's Archer's girlfriend," he says. "She's also my ex."

"Ouch."

"Pretty much."

"Was it... messy?" I say, not sure how else to phrase what I'm trying to ask.

"Did she cheat? No. Was it borderline? Debatable. Am I still mad as hell at both of them? Yes. But then Archer died and I never got the chance to-"

"Forgive him?"

"I was going to say 'beat the crap out of him' but, yeah, that too."

"Did you love her?" I can't help but ask.

"Yeah," Hunter says. "I did."

"That sucks."

"Just a little bit."

He shrugs—a movement full of remembered hurt rather than indifference. My own insecurities fade into the background.

"Here's the plan," I say. "We go see, Lily. You'll be your usual hot, vaguely charming self and she'll secretly regret ever giving you up. You probably won't get to see the regret, but I promise you, unless she's a total dumb arse, it'll be there. We do the 'show Lily what she's missing' thing and slip in whatever thing it is that Archer needs us to do—not because he deserves you to—but because he's your bro and you're the bigger, more alive person. We do all of that and then we go back to my house and eat our body weight in ice cream and chocolate while watching the worst reality tv we can find. Deal?"

"Will there be chocolate chip cookies like the one you had at lunch yesterday?" Hunter asks with a slow, almost-genuine smile that does funny things to my insides.

Don't even think about it, Li-Quinn. Focus on the task at hand.

"Lots of chocolate chip cookies," I assure him.

"Deal."

As tends to be the case once chocolate is on the agenda, the rest of the walk to Lily's is far less stormy. Our destination is an ultra-modern black box behind a tall privacy fence of artfully rusted steel. What it lacks in soul, it more than makes up for in imposing presence. I catch a case of the jitters, even though it's not my ex we're about to see.

"Hunter?" a disembodied greeting floats out of the intercom's metal plate. Her voice is cautious, sweet and pretty; the song of the well-meaning girl next door, not the femme fatale who comes between brothers.

"Hey, Lil, can we come in?" Hunter's own voice softens, affection rounding its corners and smoothing its edges. He might be mad as hell at this girl, but he clearly still cares for her. A lot.

Which is fine. Totally fine.

"S... s... sure." Lily's voice quavers, but a soft beep and a click signal she's unlocked the gate.

Corten steel swings open to reveal greens in every shade. Weeping trees, manicured shrubs, grasses and ground cover plants weave and layer their way along a path of white stones and towards the front door. Framed in the entranceway and lit by the soft morning sun is the girl who must be Lily. In simple denim cut-offs and a loose grey tee, she's petite and blonde and pale and freckly, with big blue eyes and a neat cleft in her chin.

She's casual and captivating.

Clearly anxious.

And extremely pregnant.