"So what do I do now?" I asked him. We were nearing the front gates to my house, walking home in the muggy summer air.

"Hmm?" Alastair appeared to be tugged away from his thoughts as he shifted his neck to look at me. It was two in the morning, we were tired and the music had left a distant ringing in our ears.

"About, you know... Logan." I whispered his name, maybe I was scared that saying it too loudly would alert the sleeping houses around us off our deal.

"Oh, right." Alastair shrugged nonchalantly. "Nothing I guess."

"You mean no more deal?" I pressed. At the front of my house I cringed as I pulled open the rusty hinge of the gate which gave a protesting whine. No more deal. No more having to embarrass myself in front of Logan. No more conflicting feelings.

"I guess."

"Why are you suddenly acting as if this is no big deal?" I crept inside my gate and shut it behind me, leaning against the metal to continue my conversation with Alastair as he stood on the footpath. "You were adamant about all of this a few days ago."

Alastair hesitated. It was dark, the streetlights nearby cast a ghostly light nearby but it was only enough to frame his broad shoulders and sculpted hair. I might have been imaging it but I still thought I could make out the twinkle in his jade eyes.

"I was adamant," he began. "Because I had this crazy idea that the whole thing could be good for someone like you. I still think it would, but he's either too stupid, or unable to take you seriously enough. What's the point of continuing it?"

I was baffled, not because of Alastair's easy way of summarising Logan's disinterest in me but because of the contrast between the dismissive figure before me and the enthusiastic guy from the pub making me go up and ask for a drink.

"I guess you're right." I nodded. "I'll, uh, see you tomorrow."

"See you, Valerie," he said softly as he stepped further away. "Happy New Year."

"You too," I said to the darkness quietly, but Alastair had already disappeared. I think the only thing that heard me were the crickets humming into the silence of the night.

I hadn't been aware of how tense I had been growing with the weight of the deal on my shoulders until it was eliminated.

You may have heard the old saying, 'if it sounds too good to be true, then it probably is'. Well, this was an accurate expression of my feelings. It was almost too easy to ween my way out of the deal, especially when everyone around me was always so adamant on my need to date. No, this definitely wasn't the end of all of it. I remained suspicious.

"If you scoop that ice cream out any harder you'll turn it all to mush, dear. Maybe take your troubles out on something less helpless."

I glanced at Susan as she gave me her characteristic twinkly smile. It was the kind that warmed you, as if she understood your deepest worries. It was reassuring.

"Sorry," I said. "You are working me on a public holiday though, you have to give me some slack."

Working on New Year's Day was both a blessing and a curse. It meant I could take advantage of huge penalty rates and increase my earnings but it also meant I was scooping out ice-cream with a mild hangover and cluttered thoughts.

"Well, I did ask the others before it came to you, it's a pity they were sleeping in and didn't answer the calls."

"It's New Year's Day," I reminded her again. "How could we have expected that you would have the urge to open up? With no notice?"

Really, in any other working situation, it would have been inappropriate for a boss to change their mind and ask you to work on a public holiday. But not when your boss was Susan, and she was having a good day. When Susan obtained that spark of life again, after a streak of her fatigue and fragility, she became more enthusiastic than ever, her grey hair wispy with movement and her crystalline eyes which were flecked with cloudy fragments sparkling with excitement.

I always envied her enthusiasm when she had her moments of clarity. It was as if she had been born again. She kept a little scribbling pad in her pocket where she hastily wrote down ideas and plans, always stretching her imagination to it's limits with her crazy ideas. Really, if Daniel and I hadn't known her for so long and insisted to help her, she wouldn't be able to maintain the business. She and her husband had bought the ice-creamery a few decades ago, and he'd since passed away. Her grandson organised the accountancy of it, and Dan and I worked whenever we could.

A sudden, drawn out groan reminded us of the delicate blonde girl slumped over the counter, her arm lazily draping above a cup of chocolate ice-cream.

"You okay there, Maiz?" I asked her.

Maisie was, to put it optimistically, pissed off. I was imagining an elaborate plan which involved dragging her and Daniel by the earlobes and locking them in the back room of the parlour until they admitted their love for each other again, but it wasn't going to be that simple. And I think that part of the reason it wasn't simple was because they loved each other. Love makes things complicated.

"Refill please."

She slid her bowl across the counter and I caught it, spooning another few scoops of ice-cream into it. She was lucky Susan was as much of a hopeless romantic as she was and didn't mind losing her chocolate ice-cream supply to a heart-broken girl.

"Don't worry, Maisie," Susan said. "Danny's a good boy, I think if you hear him out it will help you understand whatever it is that's wrong."

Maisie and Dan were still arguing. She'd turned up on my doorstep with her weight supported across Lottie's shoulders shortly after I'd changed into my pajamas last night, she was absolutely drunk and mumbling something about a double cheeseburger.

"I just don't know how I can look at it any other way," she sighed miserably. "It's a fact, he betrayed me. He's supposed to always be on my side and I just feel... embarrassed."

Before the waterworks could start again I hastily conjured up some form of optimism to inject into her. "You know, I bet he's planning a really big apology, Maiz. He knows he's stuffed up. You know he would never intentionally make you feel this way."

For a moment I thought about bringing up my weird position in this whole deal thing to confide in her and distract her from her own turmoil. But then I noticed her pretty blue eyes welling up with tears and decided that evading this wasn't going to help.

"You know what? Screw him. Why are you the one that has to feel crap about all of this, he's the one that should be feeling crap. He should be making it up to you."

"How?" she sniffed. "I can't think of anything that could make me happy with him right now."

"Well, he'll just have to find something. And he will find something, there's a reason you two have been together for so long you know."

She let out a rattled sigh and stabbed her spoon into the ice-cream as Susan provided me with a customer's order to prepare. The smell of the passionfruit flavour made my insides churn, which messed with my already spinning head. I needed to come up with a plan to get them happy again. It sounded silly, but Maisie and Dan were the only real couple I believed in, if it wasn't for them I wouldn't believe in the idea of love full stop.

It wasn't until I was hosing off my surfboard in my front garden, which had an unfortunate encounter with a bucket of fish guts Dad had left outside the back door, that I saw Logan. He was walking along the path, dripping wet from an evening surf with his board under his arm. When I recognised his golden skin I froze, the hose spraying from beneath my fingers in an awkward direction. If I didn't move, he wouldn't see me.

"Hey, I don't think I've seen you all year, Vally."

Why is it that I can never seem to avoid him when I want to?

I didn't respond, in fact I just kind of stood there with my mouth askew like a surprised goldfish. As far as I was concerned, Logan was banished from my thoughts and things were back to normal. I hadn't exactly acknowledged that it wouldn't quite go that way. There was no way Logan missed my interest last night, and he definitely was reciprocating the flirting.

I was reminded of the theory that friends could never be romantically involved because of the awkwardness if things don't work out. That was proving to be true. Not that Logan and I were ever friends, but slipping back into our normal routine of banter just didn't fit right.

"And here I was thinking the year was off to a great start," I sighed. We can just pretend things are normal, right?

"Nah, your year was extremely boring until I popped back into it again. I didn't see you out on the waves?" He dipped his head in the direction of my board.

I turned off the water at the tap and sighed, a sound I hoped would deter him. "I'm just washing my board, I didn't go for a swim."

He nodded, dismissing that line of harassment. "Where did you go last night?"

"Who are you, my mother?" I was reminded of Alastair's identical comment to me a few days ago. And then I was also reminded of Zoe grinding on Logan to the beat of some pop song last night.

"Just a very curious guy."

Logan, to my annoyance, leant his board across the front fence before stepping over it, pacing over to where I was standing. My heart escalated, both from the confrontation and the idea of getting a restraining order against him, which could actually be a great idea.

"You're trespassing," I reminded him.

"Oh come on, Vally. Just coming to give you a hand. Jesus, what is that smell?"

Logan examines my board, which is still slimy with rotting fish. A thought occurred to me that I still have the hose in my hand, which could serve as a weapon if needed. I turned on the water again.

"Dad had a bucket of fish bits that he was taking on the boat tonight. My board was in the wrong place at the wrong time when it fell."

"Right." He screwed up his nose.

"Right," I said awkwardly. I wish he would leave. I wish I never lured him in like this in the first place, when I suggested he order me that damn drink.

"Anyway, back to last night," he continued. Before he could bring up whatever he wanted to say, I found myself blurting out a thought that I didn't realise had been racing through the back of my mind.

"Did you have fun with Zoe?"

"What?" Logan honestly looked surprised, his bushy brows furrowed in defense. "Why are you so concerned about what I did with Zoe?"

My face grew hot, so hot it felt as if I was turning into a ball of fire. I wished I could vaporize into ashes and be blown away in the wind, far away from anywhere I'd have to have a conversation like this. I tried to think of some kind of logical justification. "Oh, you know, we're friends. I was wondering if she had a good night."

Logan actually choked on a laugh as he leaned his elbow cockily on the wall. "She did have a good night."

"Oh, yeah, good." Was it jealousy or rejection I was feeling? Whatever it was, it swirled together like a hollow pit at the bottom of my abdomen, ready to swallow up whatever dignity I had remaining. Why did I trust Alastair with this? He had told me to trust him once, and I did. What a mistake.

"But you know what?" he asked. Clearly he was playing some kind of game, waiting for me to crawl into his trap.

"What?"

"I could have had better," he said simply.

"What does that even mean?" I asked. It was an attempt to bypass the back and forth crap he was playing.

"Well I was having a better time, before you went off on damage control with the love birds."

Logan was seriously not implying he'd had a better time with me, was he? Did that mean that in a situation where he had to chose between Zoe and I, he would chose me? I recalled the image of them dancing, his lips close to her ear as he whispered. Maybe he was whispering exactly the same words to her. Maybe I was falling into his game already, just like Dad had fallen into Mum's.

"Whatever," I said. Suddenly my blood was boiling with rage and I hastily squirted the rest of the fish mush off of my board and toss the hose to the ground. "I have stuff to do, Logan."

He actually looked dumbfounded. "Seriously? A one-eighty again?"

"Just go, please," I pleaded.

"You know, I don't get you Valerie," he said. He looked pissed now, already taking a few steps back to the fence. Again, his use of my full name increased the severity of our exchange. "Suddenly you're playing all this crap onto me and then you're acting like a bitch. What am I meant to think?"

"I don't know," I huffed. "Whatever you want to think, Logan. I'm not the one playing games."

I wasn't playing games, was I?

"Are you serious? I'm walking on eggshells trying to understand what you're trying to do here!"

"Trying to do with what exactly?" I pressed.

"Us! One minute you're acting all into me and then you have me questioning it all again." I couldn't believe he was speaking the words out loud, completely upfront. It terrified me, but made me feel even bolder at the same time.

"Okay, say I hypothetically, and I mean hypothetically, was into you. What would that even mean, another fling for you? Another notch in your belt? Like Zoe last night?"

"You know what it would mean? Maybe I'd be into you too. Maybe I have been waiting around a while for someone. Maybe that's why I have flings. But, this is hypothetical, right? Maybe your games are already driving me crazy enough to be satisfied with never seeing you again after university starts. In fact, I really can't wait."

God, and he'd said that I was the one being moody. All of my suspicions were lighting up green, he really was the asshole I'd painted him as these last few years. This was more than just chucking insults around, maybe we really hated each other. The consuming feeling I felt certainly made me believe I was capable of hating him.

I was about to scream at him to leave when my front door was thrown open.

"Everything okay out here?" Dad's head popped out and glanced between Logan and I. We were silent for a moment, unable to break the tension plastered between us. Logan was the first to regain his composure.

"Hi Mister O'Conner. Sorry if we were loud, I was just dropping by," Logan said politely. His anger had evaporated at the sight of my father, but I could still see it smoldering in his icy eyes. "Have a happy new year."

Dad looked at me in concern, but his words were equally as polite. "You too Logan. Tell your parents the same."

"Sorry, Dad," I said when Logan was out of view. "Just a misunderstanding."

"You know you can tell me if there's anything serious happening, right?"

"Oh, no," I shook my head. "Nothing's wrong, I'd tell you if it was anything to worry about."

Dad gave one nod and went back inside. I was still fuming at Logan, so pissed off I could punch him. The thought of extending my arm swiftly and socking him in his perfectly aligned nose was so appealing I let out a small breath of manic laughter. He really was driving me crazy.