It’s been eleven months.

Eleven months since they were all in this doomed kitchen.

Things moved quickly. There were sentences, statements, trials – they used the confession I’d recorded –and I got lost in it all.

Andre was sentenced to a lifetime in prison. Megan cried when they told her. Dayson held her tightly and she sobbed into his shoulder. I felt pity, but perhaps she should learn what it’s like not to have a father. Especially one that didn’t love her.

He was the mind behind my father’s death, and I have to hate him for it. The things he did to Mum and Dad were atrocious, all because he wanted my mother romantically.

Gabe was sentenced for seven years. They lowered it because of his confession, which I think was awfully kind of them, since he tried to strangle me and all. Kylie didn’t blink an eye. I think she wanted more years for him too.

Amias was sentenced for one. He sparked something in the judge, I think. When he stood at the stand and told the story from start to finish, there was silence in the room, and many bowed heads. He could control that crowd with his words like magic.

I miss him. Once in a while I’ll sit on the sofa and just bawl my eyes out. Mum will come in with chamomile tea and we’ll get through it together.

We’re strong, Mum and I. We’re stronger than we’ve ever been before.

I keep the chain in my pocket at all times. It’s not a reminder of Dayson (fuck Dayson and all his shit) – it’s a reminder of relationships and the one I once had.

The tennis tournament came and went. Megan hadn’t be turning up to sessions all season, but Sam still put both of us through. The look on the other girls’ faces was priceless.

The tournament went well. Turns out Sam had been training us extremely well since the rest of the players weren’t half as quick. Megan and I ploughed through them, match after match. Mum and Sam were in the stands, cheering like lunatics. And then Mum got her phone out to record the final between Megan and me. I later learned she sent the whole thing to Amias so he could watch it from a lonely prison cell.

This is where our differences lie. Megan hadn’t be turning up to classes most of the time so her forehand was weaker than mine.

I beat Megan, became the World Champion, and I relished it.

She clapped my back afterwards, congratulated me. She was sincere, and I respect her for that.

I’m training with an even more elite team now. I still go back to Sam sometimes, and we talk tennis tactics over a mug of tea. I love him unconditionally – he was the one who had faith in me from the beginning, even if he didn’t show it.

Since Andre was no longer in the picture, Mum took the salon. She refurbished it, changed the name, and now she goes to work with a grin on her face, ecstatic to be the owner of such a large business.

***

Mum says she has a surprise for me. She tells me to get in the car, to which I oblige. Then she drives us down to the beach.

It’s windy when we get down there. After an hour-long journey I’m relived to stretch my legs out.

The wind whips through my hair, loosening strands from the ponytail.
The sea is alive, it seems. The waves crash against the shore before bubbling away in retreat. I can taste the salt on my lips as we stroll on the sand.

“What’s that?” Mum asks, squinting in the direction of the hills.

A walking figure appears. They’re a silhouette because of the position of the sun. I find myself squinting along with her.

A second later I know who it is.

“Amias!” I yell. I race across the pebbles, heart thumping, hearing Mum’s laughter behind me.

“Have fun!” she calls.

Then Amias sees me.

He starts sprinting.

We’re heading towards each other like two asteroids on a collision course.

Then we hit each other with such a force that we both go tumbling among the stones. We roll to a stop, me on top of him, knees digging into his chest.

He can’t keep his hands off me. Or his lips.

It’s like I’m finally living again.

We come up for air. I’m almost panting.

“How was prison?” I ask.

“Horrible since you weren’t there.”

“Right. Let’s murder someone so we’re both in this together.”

He smiles. “As much as I’d like to, no. I’m out now.”

I kiss him, press myself closer.

“I’ve been thinking about you everyday,” I whisper. “Every single day.”

“Same,” he murmurs. “Almost everyone on my floor knows about you. I didn’t spare a second not telling them how much I missed you.” He nuzzles me softly. “I’ve dreamt about this. Daydreamed about meeting you.”

“Well I’m here. I’m really here.”

We get up. He clasps my hand in his and we begin our walk across the pebbles. I glance around for Mum but don’t find her. She must have realised we wanted time alone.

I fill him in on the year. I tell him about how I went to uni but then dropped since it wasn’t something I wanted to do. I stay at home and train daily instead. They pay me at tournaments, and I work with Mum at the salon on the weekends too.

He tells me about prison life. The crap food, the crap people, and about the crapiness in general. He wants to join the military, he says.

“And what about the gang?” I ask. “Have they disintegrated?”

He nods. “I haven’t heard from Gabe or any of the others since last year. They’ve all gone, probably moved on with their lives. Since Andre’s gone he can’t supply them errands or money.” He stops and I stop with him. “Oh, look at this.”

He picks up a wet stone from the ground. It gleams green and is sanded down the edges. In the middle, there’s a gaping hole. 

“Used to be glass,” I muse.

“It’s the colour of your eyes,” he notices. “Here.” Amias hands it to me. I take it, feeling the smooth edges.

Then I remember about the chain.

I dig it out. Amias smiles at it. Then he threads the stone through the chain.

“Turn around,” he says.

I do. Gently, he moves my hair to the side. Luckily I tied it up otherwise it would be flying wildly all over the place.

He clasps it gently around my throat, caressing the nape of my neck in the process.

“It’s recycled,” he says. “It used to be an ugly piece of glass but now it’s a precious stone.”

He touches it gently.

“Rather like you,” he says.

“Hm?”

“You used to be ugly and now you’re... still ugly.”

I shove him. He laughs and pretends it hurt, a little twinkle in his eye.

I think about what he’s saying. Then I realise he’s right. I am recycled. I’ve gone from crying over Dayson to meeting the nicest boy alive, watching him go to prison, and then meeting him again and liking him just as much, if not more. I feel better, stronger. I feel like, with him, I can conquer the world.

“You’re recycled too,” I tell him. “You’ve supposedly come back a better person. Prison rehabilitation and all that.”

“Exactly,” he says, kissing me. “Now nothing can get in way of me and you.”

“Except tennis.”

“Of course, tennis. You have to give me another lesson.”

“Will do.” I savour the next words. “But first I want to enjoy this moment. With you.”

His hand snakes round my waist, drawing me in closer. And like that, enclosed in one other, we watch the sun setting delicately on the horizon.

THE END