Ends & Starts

By Kit Hindmarsh

Ducky and Logan have made it through a rocky start to their inevitable relationship. Now, in the sequel to Firsts & Lasts, Ducky is about to begin her studies at West Lake University and Logan has secured the full-time job of his dreams in Coolah Heads. Life is good.

But as they begin to work out the kinks of their new routine of adulthood, tragedy strikes and threatens to tear our favourite duo apart. Ducky is left feeling broken, panicked and isolated from those closest to her, while Logan is left to his own devices to work out how best to help the love of his life. Jumping to conclusions and miscommunication wreak havoc on their relationship, causing potentially irreparable damage.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Jun 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9780228891048

Kit Hindmarsh

Ends & Starts is the follow-up sequel to Kit Hindmarsh's debut novel, Firsts & Lasts. Kit lives on the Sunshine Coast in Queensland with her husband, Jarrod, and their two children.

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Ends & Starts

Kit Hindmarsh

Ends & Starts

Copyright © 2023 by Kit Hindmarsh

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Tellwell Talent

www.tellwell.ca

ISBN

978-0-22889-105-5 (Hardcover)

978-0-22889-106-2 (Paperback)

978-0-22889-104-8 (eBook)

Table of Contents

Chapter 1. The End of Our Trip

Chapter 2. The Start of Our Last Night Away

Chapter 3. The End of Our Drive Home

Chapter 4. The Start of Acceptance for Mum’s Sake

Chapter 5. The End of My Ignorance to the New Romance

Chapter 6. The Start of My Twentieth Year

Chapter 7. The End of Our Uni Prep

Chapter 8. The Start of My Work Life

Chapter 9. The End of the Move

Chapter 10. The Start of the New Routine

Chapter 11. The End of the Trainline

Chapter 12. The Start of Our First Night Out

Chapter 13. The End of My Memory

Chapter 14. The Start of My Panic

Chapter 15. The End of My Naivety

Chapter 16. The Start of My Journey Home

Chapter 17. The End of My Safety Net

Chapter 18. The Start of My Suspicions

Chapter 19. The End of My New Friendship

Chapter 20. The Start of the Downward Spiral

Chapter 21. The End of My Façade

Chapter 22. The Start of Our Downfall

Chapter 23. The End of Us

Chapter 24. The Start of the Doubt

Chapter 25. The End of My Second Week

Chapter 26. The Start of the Wait

Chapter 27. The End of My Denial

Chapter 28. The Start of My Healing

Chapter 29. The End of Brunette

Chapter 30. The Start of the Longest Day of My Life

Chapter 31. The End of Our Time Apart

Chapter 32. The Start of Our Day Together

Chapter 33. The End of Chonky’s Tail Still Hurt

Chapter 34. The Start of My Career as a Spy

Chapter 35. The End of My Gambling Stint

Chapter 36. The Start of My Reawakened Love for Her

Chapter 37. The End of the Night

Chapter 38. The Start of the Questions

Chapter 39. The End of the Questions

Chapter 40. The Start of Marnie’s Freedom

Chapter 41. The End of My Secret

Chapter 42. The Start of the End

Chapter 43. The End of My Hope

Chapter 44. The Start of the Revenge

Chapter 45. The End of a Life

Chapter 46. The Start of the Recovery

Chapter 47. The End of My Nightmare

Please be aware that themes and topics depicted in this story are heavy and may be triggering, especially for survivors of assault and trauma. If you or someone you know is struggling, I urge you to seek assistance. Below is a non-exhaustive list of helplines available to those in need.

1800 RESPECT | 1800 737 732 | 1800RESPECT.ORG.AU

Support if you or someone you know is experiencing sexual assault or domestic and family violence.

LIFELINE | 13 11 14 | LIFELINE.ORG.AU

24/7 crisis support and suicide prevention services.

BEYOND BLUE | 1300 22 4636 | BEYONDBLUE.ORG.AU

24/7 mental health support service.

HEADSPACE | 1800 650 890 | HEADSPACE.ORG.AU

Online and telephone support and counselling for young people aged 12 to 25 and their families.

KIDS HELPLINE | 1800 55 1800 | KIDSHELPLINE.COM.AU

24/7 crisis support and suicide prevention services for children and young people aged 5 to 25.

If you are in immediate danger, please call emergency services.

You are not alone.

Dedicated to the ones who hold their keys between their fingers, the ones who have faked a phone call in a risky situation, the ones who have let a drink go to waste on a night out because they can’t be sure, and the ones who always wait for that text to say their friend got home safe.

Chapter 1

The End of Our Trip

I like 2016 so far. All twenty-one days of it. The seagulls’ squawking above me pauses and plays repeatedly as my ears bob gently in and out of the ocean. I open my eyes and see the neon-pink pedicure that Emma shouted me sticking out of the water. Leaning back, I spread out my arms and legs, feeling the sun’s warmth blessing my skin, even submerged in the salty water this late in the afternoon. The light is starting to bleed into orange from the setting sun – it’s nearing the end of our last day away. I do not want to go home tomorrow. I’m not ready to put my big-girl pants on just yet. I want to stay here forever, stuck between these phases of my life.

I’ve been spending the last two weeks camping on Taminga Island with Logan, Oliver, Emma and Taneal to finally celebrate the end of our high school careers. It’s currently still the school holiday period, the weather is perfectly clear and Taminga is famous for its crystal-blue water. Considering those three factors, we were expecting it to be teeming with people along the coastline. However, we were lucky enough to find a spot a kilometre from the next claimed site.

Oliver had wanted to set up in front of the surf beach, of course, but so did every other surfer, teenager, grandad and dog. Normally, Oli would have had my boyfriend’s complete vote of support for the surf, but after the stabbing last Halloween, Logan had sided with us girls for a more secluded area, despite the lack of waves this far past the reef.

A few seagulls dive down in a frenzy, fishing twenty metres away from my floating spot. Before I can get too paranoid about sharks, I gently paddle back to shore.

Waiting patiently for me with my huge yellow beach towel, Logan squints a smile into the sunshine. I sigh deeply as I step out of the shallow waves. I really don’t want to go home tomorrow.

Why, thank you, I say, reaching for the towel. He dodges my hands and wraps it around me from behind, pulling me in close. His skin feels hot and it’s already a thousand shades darker than when we left for this trip. Did you wear sunscreen today?

You know it, he lies. How was your swim?

Relaxing. I close my eyes to the glare and feel his lips press against my forehead. I lightly touch the pink scar above his hip. Be better if you could’ve joined me.

I know. He frowns. Maybe I could sit in on Alfie’s swimming lessons. I laugh at the thought of my six-foot-tall boyfriend encroaching on Oliver’s little brother’s swim class.

Logan was a great swimmer. And surfer and skater, too. But after the injuries sustained during the assault he needed physical rehabilitation as well as some minor speech therapy. Logan having to relearn how to walk, talk and even eat was hard on everyone close to him as well. He’s been to a few aqua-therapy sessions since Christmas but, while they’ve been a great help in his overall gross motor progress, he still isn’t confident enough for an open body of water like this.

Ducky! Logan! Dinner! Taneal calls from the dunes above our campsite. Logan throws her a thumbs up and I laugh as I feel his tummy grumble under my palm.

We slowly make our way back to our little home for the past two weeks, consisting of a portable bathroom, Oliver’s ten-man tent and a gazebo that is part of a set that Logan’s mum, Deb, had bought him for Christmas. It’s currently pegged down between Oliver’s dad’s four-wheel drive and Taneal’s.

Emma zips herself out of the bathroom, which is more of a two-compartment cubicle tent – one side a toilet and the other a shower. She scrunches her face up, adjusts her messy bun, and rezips the toilet side.

I love spending time with you fuckers, but can we just do a resort or something next time?

Your shout? Taneal asks. We don’t all have access to Daddy’s funds, babe.

Shut up, she replies but laughs genuinely. She slips her oversized shirt off and joins Taneal, also wearing only her bikini, on the sunny half of a huge picnic blanket laid out underneath the gazebo. What’s cookin’ good lookin’?

Breakfast for dinner, Oliver announces from the kitchen – a flimsy, plastic foldout table behind one of the cars that is holding two camping cooktops and a large chopping board. The whole lot.

Make sure you b—

Burn the shit out of your bacon? I know. Oliver cuts Logan off like he’s a nagging wife and squeezes his hand. Don’t worry. I got you, boo.

"Gayyy!" Emma and Taneal shout together ironically.

Emma had come out to a few more people over the summer, including her parents. They’d taken it better than she’d expected, but there was still tension in her strict Catholic home. While her parents supported her as much as they could, it was still something they couldn’t fully understand. She appreciated them not kicking her to the kerb, but she could also tell there was a constant looming hope – especially from her mother – that this was just a phase and she would return to Jesus soon.

Taneal – who has apparently been openly bisexual since we were thirteen, but I’d just been too focussed on academics to take notice – has become Emma’s new best friend and biggest support. I think she’s good for Emma. We all do. Although she’s still very much classic Emma Seston, with her materialistic ways and obsession over appearance, she’s more genuine these days. She’s still a princess and a half, but it’s because she wants to be now, not because she’s hiding from another part of herself.

Oliver plates up the food from the cooktop and hums along to the Ocean Alley song floating through Logan’s portable speaker. Oli’s surfboard serves as an extension to the table, reaching across to the back of Taneal’s old rusty Red Bitch, as she calls her car. I choose the BBQ sauce and mayo from the surfboard holding the condiments and cutlery.

At least I get to use it one way or another, Oliver sulks quietly and places a hand on the fibreglass tip.

Once I take my share of the five p.m. breakfast on a paper plate, I join the girls on the shaded half of the blanket. Logan pulls up two camp chairs and sits in the one directly behind me with his dinner. I use his legs as a backrest. Eventually, Oliver sits in the other chair.

Thanks, chef, I say.

No problem. Thought I’d cook up most of what’s left for our last night. We did well with our rations, I reckon. There’ll be just enough for brekkie tomorrow.

As we eat, the sun gradually sets for the final time on the trip.

I don’t want to go home, Taneal whines my exact thoughts as the boys get the fire started. I don’t want to go back to classes and timetables and books and teachers and study.

Okay, she lost me a bit there. I’m truly excited to get back to that. All of it. What I’m not looking forward to is being unable to spend all of my days with Logan. He’s assured me that we’re still going to see so much of each other, but I just don’t see mid-week hangouts as realistic. Oliver, Taneal and I are all studying different courses at West Lake University, which is twenty minutes north of our homes in Woodston Bay. Logan is starting his tattoo apprenticeship at Skin & Bones in Coolah Heads next week – twenty minutes south of home. I’m already dreading it.

Well . . . Emma says suspensefully. She runs to her bag, just inside the tent door, and grabs something out. Let’s make the most of our last night, then. She holds up a little plastic bag containing three joints and shakes her hips.

Sneaky cow! Taneal grins. Where’s the lighter?

You guys in? She raises the bag to us and pulls a lighter from her bikini top.

Yes! Logan exclaims while I shake my head with a grin. Don’t blanket me with these goody-goodies.

I can’t lie, I’d kind of been hoping the drug habits wouldn’t return after he got home from the hospital. I’ve never minded too much, and he can handle himself just fine, but the hope had still been there. Now I’m holding on to the same maybe for when he starts fulltime work – not that I would ever actually ask him to stop.

I’ll have some, Oliver says. We all stop eating and look at him. What?

"This is weed, Emma explains like he’s a child. It gets you high."

Fuck off, Oliver huffs. I have smoked before.

You have? Logan asks, genuinely shocked.

Yes. I’m just not as cool as you guys to want to do it all the time.

Is it weird I’m excited? Logan asks me. And a little nervous?

Oh, quit it. Oliver seems embarrassed. I’m not going to have any if you’re going to make this big a deal out of it.

Logan zips his lips with a smirk.

C’mon, Ducks. Emma shakes the bag again, trying to entice me but failing miserably. I think back to the first and only time I dabbled in drugs last year and don’t even feel the slightest temptation.

I’ve still got three drinks left. I think I’ll just stick to them.

Suit yourself! Taneal says, kindly siding with me against the peer pressure. Let’s get this party started.

Chapter 2

The Start of Our Last Night Away

The fire crackles loudly and Emma jumps, looking into the dark trees behind her. Taneal, Ducky and I laugh softly at her but Tee also takes Emma’s hand, trying to keep her calm. Hopefully Emma now understands that the shit she normally gets from Malohi is a lot tamer than most bud. Even I’m feeling it more than usual. God knows who she got this batch from.

You good, bro? I ask Oliver on the other side of Ducky. He doesn’t look as wigged out as Emma, but he still looks deep in thought.

Hm? He breaks out of whatever it is and recalls my question. Oh, yeah. I was just thinking about busses.

Busses? Tipsy Ducky giggles.

Yeah, okay. So . . . Oli stands up to give us visuals. "How the fuck can two people sit in a car cab, where it’s narrow enough to touch the other side of the vehicle, and it somehow takes up the same amount of space in a lane on a road as a fucking bus, which seats four people across? As well as an aisle down the middle?"

Wait. Emma looks really upset. I can’t handle this right now. Can we not?

Relax, I say. Busses take up heaps more width in a lane. Not to mention the thickness of doors and shit in cars. That’s probably—

"Yeah, but it’s two extra people’s widths," Oliver argues.

And an aisle, Ducky adds.

Don’t you start. I laugh and bump her shoulder with mine.

It just doesn’t make sense . . . Oliver trails back into his own thoughts as he sits down in his chair and stares at the fire again.

Emma’s eyes widen in panic as she uses her hands to measure out imaginary people next to her on an imaginary bus and calculates the distance. It just doesn’t make sense, she parrots in a whisper.

Stop tripping her out, Oli, Taneal hisses, annoyed.

Aw, shit. My bad, Em. He looks sincerely sorry. He truly didn’t realise she was having such a bad time. Should we pack up and go to bed?

Emma nods feebly and Tee helps her up to walk her to the tent. Oliver pours a bucket of seawater on the hot coals and Ducky stands to fold up her chair. She tucks it under an arm and holds out her hand with a smile.

Sometimes I feel like maybe I really did die last year and somehow made it to heaven. But I’ve checked – I’m really here. Here with Ducky, the love of my life. About to embark on our life-after-school adventure together.

She’s stressing about not being able to see each other as much as we have this summer. It’s obviously true to an extent, but I’ve decided that when we do get to hang out, I’m going to make even the most trivial of dates unforgettable.

Night, guys, Oliver yawns as he heads into the tent.

Night, dude.

Goodnight! Ducky says. She turns to me and sighs. The full moon makes her blue eyes fluorescent. We going to bed too?

I just have to chuck a piss, then I’ll be in.

She nods and makes her way to the tent.

By the time I get inside, the other three are passed out in the centre compartment – the main room, as we’ve all been calling it – despite Emma and Taneal wanting the smaller section together when we first arrived. Oliver looks like a swaddled baby in his fancy padded sleeping bag, and the girls have zipped their two bags together so Emma can lie on Taneal’s chest. All three of them are already snoring loudly.

I unzip the doorway to our room and see Ducky’s pink sleeping bag, unused for the eleventh night in a row. She smiles at me in the darkness from mine. Lucky Mum bought me a bigger one that fits us both easily.

Hey, I whisper. She smiles and shuffles back. I pull down the zip and realise she’s naked. "Oh . . . hey."

Get in here now.

I scrub the dishes from our breakfast-timed breakfast of hard-boiled eggs and buttered bread. The sun is now completely up and I’m already feeling the prickly heat under my skin as we bustle around, cleaning up the site.

Oliver starts to fold up the picnic blanket but Emma yells at him crankily. Wait! Wait! I want a photo of all of us in front of our little wilderness home. This was actually my first time camping.

Really? We couldn’t tell, Taneal chuckles.

Emma ignores her and pulls the blanket back out under my gazebo. She even kicks some sand over the edges to make it look like it hasn’t just been laid back down. She orders us to huddle together behind the former fire pit.

I want to remember it forever. But we haven’t taken nearly enough photos this trip. She perches her phone on a paperbark tree and sets the camera’s timer for ten seconds. She runs back and bends to her knees in front of us, throwing her arms to the side. "Everyone say Happy Birthday, Logie!"

Ducky and Oliver oblige and he holds up shakkas with his right hand. Taneal does as instructed too, but ends by sticking out her tongue aggressively. I wait for the 1 to flash on the screen before I pull Ducky in for a deep kiss.

The clicking of the photo burst ends but Ducky doesn’t let my face go, so I’m not about to struggle. It’s my birthday and I’ll pash if I want to.

The others mock us with gagging noises and sounds of disgust, causing her to pull back. Her cheeks flush my favourite shade of pink.

Sorry, she whispers.

Okay, ladies and gentleman. Oliver claps loudly and springs into action. We’ve got a four-hour drive back and I’ll need a nap if we’re having some drinks tonight for Logan’s birthday, so let’s get this show on the road.

Sir, yes sir! Taneal salutes him.

We all do our part to pack away and clean up the site into the two cars. Twenty-four minutes later it’s like we were never there.

Ride with me, I beg Ducky pathetically. It’s my birthday.

I promised the girls I’d go with them, she says and pecks my chin. I swear though, I will not leave your side tonight.

Don’t leave it ever.

Okay, I won’t. She smiles. Taneal honks her horn and Ducky gives me one final kiss before jumping in the back of the Red Bitch.

I hop in the front seat of the much newer of the two cars while Oliver does a final strap check on his roof racks.

Want me to go first and you can follow my tracks? he calls out to Taneal. I don’t think she hears him over the revs of her engine as she pumps the gas out onto the beachline. I can faintly hear Emma’s laugh out her window as they drive off. Guess not.

C’mon, dude, I plead from his passenger seat.

Okay, okay. Should be fine.

He drives away from the dunes, leaving our little paradise to nothing but our memories.

We follow in Taneal’s tracks for the first ten minutes of the drive along the beach, but that girl is a psycho. She flogs along the beach of Taminga at easily double our speed. How that shitty thing doesn’t get bogged multiple times is baffling. After that we lose sight of her as other campers pull out into the increasing gap between us.

Oliver doesn’t talk much and is down to let me blast my playlists for the first part of our drive. He didn’t eat breakfast with us and he’s never been one for conversation on an empty stomach. Or maybe he’s on a come-down.

Once we get back on