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CHAPTER ONE

Eden.

Saying goodbye to my family is always the hardest thing to do. You would think that being in my final year of university I would have gotten used to it by now. Two years of studying, two years of leaving. We all know I’ll be back soon, but it’s still a sombre occasion.

Rachel clings to my leg so tightly it’s cutting off circulation. I do love my littlest sister, but sometimes….

“Rachel! Let your sister go!”

I hear my brother before I see him, which is something I don’t often say– him being 6’5” and all, even though he’s younger than me. Not my proudest day when at thirteen he realised he had a few inches over me and wouldn’t stop using me as a headrest.

“I don’t wanna!”

Jake scoops her up into his arms, letting the blood flow back into my legs. Rachel settles into his hip, pouting, her blonde curls cascading over her face.

“Thanks, Jakey,” I laugh as I excuse myself and make my way to the kitchen.

In the moments before I leave, I hate spending it with my family. I know, I know it sounds bad. But everyone’s always a bit too sad for my liking. Nursing a cup of tea is one way to keep my hands busy—and my mind. I flick the kettle on and grab my teabag of choice. Vanilla Chai. Should help settle my nerves, right?

Dad’s out the front packing the car, and Mum is somewhere busying herself so she doesn’t just hug me and cry. Being the eldest of five kids—and the only one who has flown the nest—it’s tough to say goodbye at the best of times. Saying goodbye for months? Definitely not the best of times.

The twins are somewhere, probably wreaking havoc. My eyes start to burn. I should know the routine by now. I drink my tea in the kitchen, think about everything I’m going to miss, leave, and then have a cry in the car while Dad doesn’t poke or prod. Easy. So why does it feel so hard this time?

“Hey, come on,” Jake says, nudging me with his shoulder. He’s disposed of Rachel somewhere, leaving just us in our cramped farmhouse kitchen. “You’re only meant to cry after you hop into the car.”

I wipe away a stray tear, sighing into my mug. “Yeah, I know.”

I give Jake a weak smile before taking my tea outside. I don’t like letting people see me cry, even if they are my brother. Stepping out onto the front porch, I take a deep breath. With the country air filling my lungs I have a chance to stop and think. One more year…If I don’t fail again.

Jake joins me again, intent on spending every last second with me before I leave. I don’t mind though. I’ve stopped crying, for now.

Out of the five of us kids he and I are the closest in age. We stand in a comfortable silence for a few minutes until he speaks again.

“You know we’re all proud of you, right?”

I know. That’s what makes it so hard. He continues without me saying anything.

“You should really be the one comforting me. Starting my final year of high school is a lot harder than the final year of university.”

“Say that to me again in four years, Jakey. Then you’ll be sorry,” I respond, handing him my now-finished mug, stepping away to go check in on Dad. Ignoring the indignant sigh Jake lets out, I let the crunch of the gravel driveway push the noise out of my mind. “Good to go?”

Dad’s head pops out from behind the back of the ute where my many suitcases have been precariously stacked. “Yeah, possum. Ready when you are. You should probably say goodbye to everyone though.”

This is my least favourite part. I know Mum will try her hardest not to cry and Jake will try his hardest to cheer her up with the not-so-cheerful reminder that he’s not leaving anytime soon. The twins—Molly and Charlie—will be arguing over who gets my room. And Rachel will still be pouting, tucked behind Mum’s leg. She’s not quite old enough to understand why I leave all the time, but I hope one day she will. She will understand that I’m doing this for us.

Dad and I make our way back to the farmhouse, and the scene I imagined has materialised before us. Predictable, as always. The whole family has assembled on the front veranda. Mum embraces me before she’s fully made it down the steps.

“You’ll do so well, sweetie. We’re all here rooting for you.” She kisses my cheek.

Yep. I know. Everyone loves reminding me of that.

“Thanks, Mum. I love you.”

I’m all hugged out by the time Dad and I make it to the car and I check the clock. We’re a little later than scheduled but should still make good time to the city— much better time than if I took the train. With a final wave goodbye, I settle into the passenger seat and prepare myself for the next few hours.

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