Ethan was gone when I woke up this morning, and I was utterly baffled and startled by just how disappointed I was about that.

My life is fast spiralling into a warped alternative reality, where I miss Ethan when he's not around to pester me, and I cannot wait for him to open his curtains to see his face. I even long to hear his voice.

"Dell, did you see Ethan this morning?"

Delia and I are walking to school, and the sun is already trying to fry us to a crisp; there are no signs left over of the rain we had on Tuesday: no clouds, barely a breeze, just sun, sun, and more sun.

Something in the tone of my voice seems to make Delia suspicious; she is narrowing her eyes, giving me one of her Detective Barbie looks, which I dodge... expertly as usual.

"I'm just wondering," is all I can think of to say, and she shrugs in reply. Okay, "expertly" might've been the wrong word.

"He had a fight with Dad again last night, and Ethan had a slight bruise and a scratch on his face at breakfast. I thought he'd probably just been rough again; he's always bruised, after all." That is very true. Ethan is a hurricane that gathers bruises and abrasions as though they were prizes. Most of them are self-inflicted.

"But then Dad got all upset about it, asking him if he did that to him with the door last night, and Ethe denied it, but... you know... He was lying. Ethe's not all that great at lying, and Dad kept apologising; Ethan kept saying it was nothing, and they almost had another fight. Honestly, those two are exhausting."

I'm relieved about this confirmation of how Ethan was injured.

"Why are they fighting so much lately?"

"Dad is very touchy, as you know. He's extremely stressed, and Ethan is... well... Ethan. But most of their fights are about next year. Dad wants Ethe to go to the university in Hummelton instead of the one in Silverview."

My heart lurches at those words. I cannot imagine not having Ethan go to Silverview University with Delia and me.

"But he has a rugby scholarship for Silverview."

"He was also offered one for Hummelton," Delia says, and I know that she hates the idea of being separated from her brother as much as I do. "Their rugby teams are in the top league. Ethe will have a better chance of getting into professional rugby if he's on one of Hummelton Varsity's teams."

"But Ethan doesn't want to be a professional rugby player; he wants to join your dad's construction company!" How can I know that and Mr Fletcher doesn't?

"For some reason, Dad has issues with that," Delia sighs, and I want to talk about it some more, but Simon joins us, grabbing her bag, and the subject of our conversation shifts to the weekend and all our plans.

Why would Uncle Ian not want Ethan to join him at his firm? Most fathers would love it if their children were interested in their companies. Yes, Ethan can be a pest, but he can also be very hard-working and resourceful when required. Tomorrow morning, he is going to the city centre - temporarily turned into fairgrounds - with his dad to help with last-minute construction work for the festival. Uncle Ian is taking Ethan because he knows he can depend on him. So, why?

Does he think that Ethan will fail and not be able to complete the degree in architectural engineering he wants to enrol for? Ethan struggles with academic activities because he sometimes has trouble staying focused, but he has proven so many times that when he is motivated, he can get the job done and done well. Ethan might have to work harder at it than most people, but he has the ability and aptitude to complete the degree. I know he does. His parents know that as well, so why?

Ethan and his father used to be so close; it breaks my heart that their relationship is going downhill like this.

When we reach the school, I leave Dell with Simon and stroll along the covered walkways to my first class of the day. I'm still wondering about this rather upsetting information when Ethan unexpectedly joins me. He is coming from the boys' locker room, his hair still wet from his shower and the fresh fragrance of shampoo following in his wake.

"Hey," he grins, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, and before I can respond, his lips are caressing mine rather pleasantly. "Thanks for last night," he mutters, stroking my cheek when he ends the kiss, fast approaching the edge of becoming unsuitable for public display. I am too breathless to reprimand him... or demand more.

"You're welcome," I finally manage to find my voice after clearing my throat a few times. Those words were probably not the best to use under the circumstances because they sounded too much like an invitation, but they were the only words ready to pop out of my mouth when my brain functions returned.

"Good to know," Ethan confirms my assessment of the wisdom behind that choice of words. "Mr Big Bear? Seriously?" he grins, tugging playfully on one of my two short French braids.

"I needed something to occupy all those limbs of yours. They were becoming distracting," I shrug, blushing when I realise we're attracting too much attention standing still in steady streams of milling students. And it's not just the standing still bit causing the interest; Ethan is knee-numbingly tender and sweet right now. This would have passed as a highly romantic scene if the participants weren't us.

"Oh, Kicks, I can think of so many fun ways you could have used to occupy my limbs that do not involve a massive bear-"

He ends his sentence with a hic-up and a chuckle when I punch him in the stomach.

As on every school day before Founder's Day, no productivity could be found in any classroom. Everybody was in a festive mood, and the teachers (except for Ms Tidwell, the chemistry teacher, who insisted on having a regular lesson) just let the students do what they wanted. Some used the time to work on their costumes for the boat race, and others (Ethan) used it to bother those students (Kira) who thought it was the ideal chance to enjoy reading novels.

Despite trying in every class we had today (except Chemistry), I barely read three pages. I only managed to read those because Ethan was temporarily distracted by Barn, who needed him to get a packet of crisps from behind a cabinet. I don't know how the chips got in there, but Barn was simply too bulky to twist himself into the ideal position to fish it out.

Today, nothing deterred Ethan from being distracting and annoying, not even beating him with a textbook. Usually, it helps for a few minutes. He doesn't even sit near me in most classes, but today he did. Delia was enjoying the show too much to rein in her brother.

School let out at noon, and Ethan and his friends made a detour to the waterfalls when we left the schoolyard. I told him I'd see him later because I was going to work at the turtle sanctuary a little earlier today. I declined his offer of a ride because I could see that he was desperate for a swim, but I was happy to let him bring my bag home. I deserved a reward for all my patience with him today.

After arriving home and changing out of my school uniform, I took the bus to the turtle sanctuary. Because of the upcoming holiday, I had no extra tasks today, and most of the tanks and shelters were not due for cleaning this time. My duties at the shelter are sporadic at best. Some days I'd be swamped with things to do, and others, like today, are very quiet. After spending just over two hours there, mainly doing filing and other office-related tasks, I took the bus home.

I was happy to see that Ethan dropped off my bag so that I was able to make myself comfortable at my desk with snacks and coffee and do my homework (generously supplied by Ms Tidwell) so that I could get into a festive mood without it nagging at the back of my mind.

Now that I've finished the homework and am packing away my books, I would love to swim too. It is scorching today, and the breeze flowing through my window does virtually nothing to cool me down.

I find my thoughts drifting to Ethan, wondering what he might be up to, and then I'm distracted by movement near the fence in the Fletchers' front yard. Ethan is watering the flowerbeds, generously answering my question, and I'm quite surprised that he hasn't rushed over to disturb me yet. I thought he wasn't home.

No, I'm not disappointed!

He probably had enough of that not-so-sweet activity today and is taking a break... and giving me one. Besides, those flowerbeds need more water than the rains provided on Tuesday, and Uncle Ian probably told him to do it.

It's not the fact that Ethan didn't stop by that is bothering me right now, nor is it the activity of watering the flowers that interests me; it's his current companion making me clench my teeth and huff like a bull about to charge a toreador.

Amber Dyson is standing near him in all her golden-haired and sun-tanned glory. She is talking to him, throwing her body around in that slutty way she seems to think makes her look attractive to boys, and while I watch, she steps closer and runs her fingers along his cheek. I jump to my feet, not caring that my stationery is tumbling to the floor, and with a growl, I spin away from the window and storm from my room.

It is pure adrenaline and anger stopping me from second-guessing my actions. Dell asked me to keep her brother safe from Amber and her allure, and that is what I'm going to do. That is all this stampede from our house and through the gap in the fence is about.

"Stop it!" I hear Amber scream at Ethan.

"You said you were hot. I'm just helping."

I finally reach the front of the Fletchers' house, and when they come into view, I see that Amber is dripping wet, the oversized white t-shirt drooping off her one shoulder, clinging transparently to her body, revealing the shocking pink bikini top she's wearing underneath. Even her legs sprouting from the itty-bitty shorts she's wearing have water running down them.

"Oh, my soul!" I hear myself say. "Do you need to be tied up in the backyard wearing a collar and a leash to keep you from straying?"

They both turn to look at me, startled by my sudden, angry appearance.

"No, Kicks, I swear, I wasn't doing anything," Ethan says, sounding alarmed, and when I glance at him, I am surprised to see a look of pure panic on his face.

"Oh, I know, Bunny," I reassure him, joining his act by wrapping both my arms around one of his and laying my head against his bicep. Ethan makes a strange snorting sound, but when I look at him again, he doesn't seem to be choking or dying; he merely grins at me. "I was talking to Amber. Perhaps your grandmother could build a cage to keep you from straying into other people's territory and getting all touchy-feely with my boyfriend."

"What?" Amber frowns, no longer more interested in the state of her wet hair than in what I am saying. "You really did it!" she says accusingly, glaring at Ethan.

"Yeah, I wasn't kidding."

Amber's narrowed hazel eyes run over my body, clearly unimpressed by my lack of style. I'm dressed in an old comfortable official Egret's Rest Turtle Sanctuary t-shirt, cut-off jeans and sneakers. This is my usual uniform when I'm fulfilling my duties at the sanctuary. My hair, released from its elastic restraints, falls in rather messy waves over my shoulders. Amber's eyebrows shoot up, her eyes widening, when she sees Ethan's necklace at my throat. For a second, she grinds her teeth, then lowers her lashes, giving me a bored look.

"Nice to see you again, Kira."

"Same here," I assure her. "I'm thrilled beyond belief."

Ethan makes that noise again, and now he is shaking a little, not even trying to hide that he is laughing. My eyes travel from the irritated look on Amber's face, over her wet hair and clothes, to the hosepipe held defensively in front of Ethan, and a smile slides over my lips. So, he doused her fires and told her that we were dating.

How nice.

"See you later, Amber," Ethan says, winding the hosepipe between his hand and his elbow, making it easier to carry to its storage place.

"I'm also seeing someone," Amber informs us. "Marshall Gibbs. You might know him?"

To his credit, Ethan doesn't react except to casually puff out his lips and give a slight nod of acknowledgement. "Congrats. Wanna go grab some ice cream, Kicks?" he asks me when we turn to leave Amber.

"Remember what I told you, Ethe," she says in a tone that sends unease rippling along my spine.

"You say a lot of things," Ethan sighs, glancing over his shoulder and then, draping his free arm around me, he steers me to the side of the house where the garden hose wheel is mounted to the wall.

"Bunny?" he chuckles, and I shrug his arm off my shoulders, but he puts it back, keeping me by his side when I'm about to run away.

"I was trying to be authentic," I huff.

"Authentic? Then you should call me something like 'hot stuff' or 'sexy babes' or..."

"Ugh!" I scoff. "You are so full of yourself."

Ethan laughs, hugging me tighter to his side.

"I was too harsh, wasn't I?" I've never acted like that before. I don't like it when people are bitchy and mean, and I am not proud of myself right now. "I should go apologise to her."

"Nah, you gave her a bit of her own medicine. Let it stew; maybe she'll learn something."

Arriving at that section of their house where his bedroom window is, he lets me go to take hold of the storage wheel's handle and wind the hose into its place.

"I've changed my mind," he informs me, grinning again. "I like Bunny."

"Shut up."

"I'll call you Snuggles."

"Stop it."

"And then together, we can be Snuggle Bunny."

"Seriously, Ethy, I'm going to kick your ass," I cannot stop myself from joining in his laughter.

"Oh, Snuggles, that is not the threat you think it is; I'm kinda looking forward to that n-" he dodges with a yelp when I take off one shoe and aim it at his groin. "Right, I forgot what you mean by kicking my ass," he laughs.

I help him wind the hose into place, burning to know what that ominous exchange was about. As his girlfriend, I'm allowed to ask, right?

"So, what did she tell you?"

I'm alarmed that he looks uncomfortable for a few seconds, but then he shrugs. "She doesn't think this is real," he says. "You and me."

"Well," I mumble, seriously not eager to state the obvious.

♂♀