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But the good times didn’t last.

People say you can tell when tragedy is about to strike. You get a vibe, a sense of déjà vu, something like that. If that’s true, then I’m not one of those people. If my mother had been alive, she would have said the Angel of Death walked in our shadows that day, waiting for the right moment to collect. Maybe he was following us, and we were just too excited to notice.

It was the last weekend before school started for the new year, and we were going to an abandoned mine to search for gold.

Later, what happened earned the label ‘tragic accident’, but no amount of apologising could undo the damage. A split-second decision turned best friends into mortal enemies and changed my life and those of the people around me for ever.

The nightclub fronts one of the town’s busiest roads. Its black steel door sits back in a dark recessed porch, creating an air of mystery in direct contrast to the bright flashy lights of the twin cinemas across the road.

The arriving crowd spills out on to the pavement as groups gather before going inside. Traffic is heavy in both directions. Mr Lang pulls up behind a white van and waits, engine idling, while six girls jump out of the van and start preening. The girls are Year Nines from my school, all dolled up and buzzing with excitement. Their outfits are mostly short skirts, black tights and crop tops, and they’re all wearing sparkly make-up.

The girls look cute; their energy is catching.

Mr Lang inches forward into the spot the white van just vacated and releases the door locks. ‘I’ll be back at eleven. Don’t dawdle, you two. It will be bedlam driving out of here tonight.’

‘Sure, Dad. Thanks for the lift,’ Amber says on her way out.

Meanwhile, I shuffle over, trying to keep my skirt from riding up my legs.

‘Thanks for the lift, Mr Lang.’ I have one high-heel-clad foot almost to the ground when he calls my name and I answer, ‘Yes, sir?’

‘Young people,’ he says in a philosophical tone, ‘need balance in their lives. It’s not all about schoolwork and chores.’

‘No, sir, it’s not. Thank you for taking time out to drive us tonight.’

‘It’s a pleasure, Ebony. I don’t mind. That’s not the problem.’ His fingers strum a rhythm on the steering wheel. ‘If you ever find you have to climb out of your bedroom window again, promise me you’ll be more careful. Your mother’s rose trellis might not hold up next time.’

‘Ohhh.’
So he saw me!
‘You’re not going to make me go home, are you, Mr Lang?’

Looking straight ahead he says, ‘I’ve brought you here now, so, no, I won’t take you back, or tell your mother I saw you.’

‘Thank you so much!’

He tries not to grin. ‘This one time only, you understand,’ he warns.

‘Yes, of course, and thank you again, Mr Lang.’ If only Mum shared Mr Lang’s philosophy!

‘Did you leave a note, Ebony?’

‘In my room. But if Mum doesn’t find it, I’m sure it won’t take much to figure out where I am.’

‘No doubt. Well, you should get out before I change my mind,’ he says.

I climb out of the vehicle in a hurry to find Amber before she walks into the club. But when both my feet are
on the pavement, I swing around and collide with someone standing still.

It’s a boy, and I hit him so hard I send him flying across the pavement, into the brick wall, where he slides to the floor with the wind knocked out of his lungs.

Oh, no!

I’m at his side before he opens his eyes. ‘Are you all right?’ He lifts his head at the sound of my voice and his eyes flutter open. I take his hand to help him back on to his feet. Not my wisest idea. My pull is more like a yank. He springs up in one go and slams into my chest. I hear something crack.

Oh no, no, no! Was that his rib?

Silently he looks at me, eyes wide open now – deep, dark blue and full of amazement at my strength.

Terrified he’s going to fall, I keep my arm around his waist and a firm grip of his hand, forgetting how strong my grip can be until he yanks his fingers out and shakes them with a confused expression furrowing his brow.

Embarrassed, I offer my stammered apologies. ‘I’m so, so sorry, really, truly,
so
sorry. Is anything broken? Can you stand if I let you go?’

Finally he says, ‘I think I can manage.’

I breathe a sigh of relief. ‘Good. For a minute there …’ I stop mid-sentence when I realise he’s staring again, his eyes wide and focused directly on mine.

‘Are your eyes really … purple?’ he says.

‘They’re violet, actually.’

‘Does anybody have violet eyes?’

‘Apparently I do.’

I hastily make to move back but find his hand is now clasping mine. Maybe he’s not feeling entirely stable yet. ‘Did I hurt you much? I’m stronger than most … you know …
weak
… people.’

Oh no! Did I just call him ‘weak’?

‘Listen, I didn’t mean to say you’re a weak person. I’m just … I’m, well, er … worried about you. Should I call … ?’ I pause and inhale a quick deep breath. ‘OK, I’m going to stop talking now.’

He stares at me as if I’ve gone nuts. I can’t say I blame him. ‘Ummm,’ he murmurs, pointing down to our feet. ‘Is that your heel sticking into the space between my toes?’

I gasp, but it comes out more like a screech. ‘That
is
my heel! Oh no! It’s shot right through your shoe! I’m so, so,
so
sorry! Is your toe broken? Is that what I heard?’

Still gawking at me with his mouth hanging open, he finally says, ‘You heard something?’

I plaster a fake smile quickly to my face. ‘Maybe you should test your toes?’

He moves them quite well, considering my stiletto heel has nailed his shoe to the ground!

Annoyed with myself, and horribly embarrassed, my face undoubtedly redder than beetroot juice, I wrench my foot up to extract my shoe’s ten-centimetre heel.

All the while I can’t stop mumbling. ‘I’m such a klutz! I’m just not used to wearing high heels. It was my friend Amber. She said I looked like a cowgirl in my riding boots …’ I stop suddenly. Damn it, I’m rambling again! For some reason I feel the need to fill the void created by this boy’s silence.

‘Has anyone ever told you how captivating your voice is?’

I laugh a little. I nearly killed him and he says my voice is captivating! ‘No. No one has ever told me that.’

He smiles sweetly, obviously still dazed by pain. And shock. I lean forward and whisper, ‘Actually, I
never
wear heels. I’m more comfortable riding a horse …’
Aaargh!! What am I saying?
‘Pretty soon you’re going to regret that you came and stood in this spot.’

‘Somehow I doubt that.’

‘By the way, how is your back? You hit that wall so
hard
’. I spin around and nonchalantly try to check his spine.

He gets that
Is-she-all-there?
look again. ‘You’re not checking out my butt, are you?’

I shake my head so hard my clasp drops out, and my curls tumble down all the way to my waist. ‘No, I swear I’m not.’

He moistens his lips with his tongue and kind of laughs. It’s an unconscious act and quite sexy. ‘My back’s fine, although I can’t say for sure about these,’ he says, pointing at his toes, ‘but I think they’ll survive.’

‘I really am sorry about your shoe.’

‘It’s no big deal; it’s just a small hole. You can stop apologising.’

I smile at his kindness.

‘Even if my toe were broken,’ he adds, ‘it wouldn’t matter because I have another nine. Really.’ He sighs then, sounding cross at himself. ‘
I’m
rambling now, aren’t I?’

‘It’s your turn,’ I say. Even though he’s speaking now, he still has that dazed look about him. ‘Are you positive you’re OK? You look a little spacey. You didn’t happen to hit your head?’

‘I didn’t hit my head, but you’re really strong.’

Instantly my eyes flutter downwards.

He rushes to say, ‘Hey, I didn’t mean anything by that. It was just a surprise when you bowled me over like a steam train.
Crap
. It’s my turn to apologise. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s OK. I
am
strong, but I know that some people find strength intimidating in a girl. So … um, if you don’t mind, could you keep that information to yourself?’

‘Absolutely! I swear, your secret is safe with me.’ He puts a hand over his heart. ‘I won’t tell anyone, not a soul, not a –’

‘Thank you.’

We both glance down and realise how close we’re standing, our joined hands between us at chest height. We stay this way, still and silent, looking into each other’s eyes. I feel something tangible stretch between us, and I know he’s feeling this unusual connection too. I mean, if I concentrate, I can hear a person’s heart beating if they’re standing close enough. Right now, this boy’s heart is beating very, very fast.

The link between us feels electric.

I will remember this moment. It’s burning into my memory as we continue to stare at each other, until, gradually, I see something really sad inside his eyes. This dark misery wraps around me like a shroud. I feel smothered by it, as if I’m choking and can’t breathe. I don’t quite know what to make of it. I sense a despair inside this boy that must be hard to live with. My smile fades at this thought and I step back. It doesn’t take long for embarrassment to replace the feeling of closeness.

The world shifts back into focus quickly, starting with Amber’s voice calling my name. ‘Ebony! What’s keeping you?’

‘Over here!’ I call out, turning to make eye contact.

She runs over. ‘You know, I thought you were behind me this whole time until I got my hand stamped and you weren’t next. Are you OK? You look a bit stunned.’

‘I’m fine.’

Our friend Leah comes out then. ‘Hey, are you girls coming? I found a table.’

Before I realise what’s happening, the two of them are leading me inside. I swing my head around to the boy standing on the pavement watching me. I smile at him and wave, promising myself that before tonight is over I will know his name and understand the reason I feel so connected to him.

‘How’s that little heart of yours thumping now, Jordy? Still marching to the beat of the pretty girl’s drum?’ Danny comes up to me, thoroughly amused. Obviously he saw it all.

I glare at him to no effect.

He asks, ‘Do you know them?’

‘Nope.’

‘Not even the redhead who was fawning all over you?’ He grins.

‘Her hair wasn’t red,’ I correct in a hurry. Danny’s girl fetish this month is redheads.

‘It was red under the spotlight.’

‘Well, not from where I was standing. Mitts off, OK?’

‘OK, OK! She’s not my type anyway.’ He lifts his hands in the air in a gesture of peace. ‘I could swear you knew them.’

‘I told you already.’

‘Not even the “brunette” who couldn’t keep her hands off you?’ In joking fashion he hikes his fingers under my jacket, running them up and down my chest. People stare. A few laugh at his tomfoolery. ‘When you looked into each other’s eyes,
man
, no one knew where to look.’

I shove his hands away. These days there are times I’d like
to block Danny out, press the mute button on his remote control.

‘Trust me, Danny, I would have remembered
those
eyes if I’d seen them before.’

‘Man …’ He pauses, offering a moment’s silence, as if the girl’s eyes warrant a profound reverence. ‘What do you call that colour? Purple?’

‘Violet.’

‘I think those girls go to our school, but I haven’t seen them around any of the local haunts, so they must be hicks from the west.’

I stare at him.
That girl goes to my school?

He thumps my chest with an open hand. ‘You know – horse people.’

‘You’ve seen them at school?’

‘What’s more, I think they’re in our year.’

‘Dude, it’s the hair. That dumb rule about keeping it tied back. Girls look different with their hair down.’

That look is back in his eyes. ‘So … did you get her number?’

‘Whose number?’ Since I didn’t, and could kick myself for it, I decide to be vague. It’s slightly less embarrassing and gives me time to think of a reply.

‘The bronze hottie, the one who almost brought down a wall of the club with your spine.’

‘I
tripped
and
fell
into the wall.’

He laughs. ‘Jordy, I know what I saw. I’ll be your witness when you sue for injury compensation.’

‘Dude, thanks for your concern, but I won’t be suing anyone since it was
me
who lost
my
footing.
OK?
’

He stares, lifting his dark eyebrows. ‘You’re touchy tonight. Did I hit a chord? Ah, yes, the chord of
love
.’ He sings this last word.

‘Shut up, Danny.’ I change the subject from one that’s making me uncomfortable to one that might make him uncomfortable. ‘So what happened with Rebecca?’ His girlfriend of five months.

He clicks his fingers. ‘Aah, that was her name! Apparently she was only killing time until Bosko asked her out.’ He gives one of his couldn’t-care-less shrugs. ‘You know, it’s hard being this good-looking. Girls just want to hang around with me all the time. It’s getting to be a chore,’ he moans with appropriate melodrama, then swings an arm across my shoulders. ‘Are you coming inside? The night is still young. We can find us each a hottie to take home tonight.’

I think of the brunette with the sweet voice and stunning eyes. I’m definitely going inside.

Numbly I go through the motions of having my hand stamped with a red elephant and, with Amber’s arm hooked through mine, follow Leah into the club’s interior. The soft coloured lights, the chink of glasses, the roar of voices and laughter swirl around me like a zephyr. It’s exactly what I came here for – to have fun and feel the buzz of life thrumming inside me.

I stand still, close my eyes and exhale the breath I’ve been holding in since … I don’t know, but it seems like for ever.

Amber squeezes my arm excitedly. ‘Leah found a table on the balcony upstairs and the girls are there already.’

She means our friends Bec and Ivy, who, along with Leah, we sit with at lunch.