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Leah showed back up with a can of tuna and a bowl of water. She sat on the ground, legs crossed, in a red pilled sweater and shorts. Watching her while she fed the cat, I thought…I thought that someone should paint that scene. Someone who was capable of it. The moment of peace, the bare feet, the blond hair unkempt and wild, the freshly washed face, and the sea whispering in the background.

I looked away from her and took a sip of tea.

“Bluesfest is coming in two days. We’re going.”

Leah looked up at me and frowned. “I’m not. Blair invited me and I told her I couldn’t.”

“Oh. Busy schedule? Doctor’s appointment? Social engagement? If not, I’d advise you to turn on the phone that’s in there gathering dust and tell Blair you made a mistake. Go with her. That way I can be on my own a little.”

“You say that like I’m a burden.”

“Nobody said that,” I replied.

But maybe she was right. I liked her making progress, but I also missed spending a night on my own without responsibilities, without worrying about anyone else.

And so, on Friday at dusk, I took Leah out to Tyagarah Tea Tree Farm north of Byron Bay, where Bluesfest is held, one of the most important music festivals in all of Australia. The area was also a koala habitat, the organization worked to take care of them, and tourists could go there and watch them. The year before, they had planted 120 mahogany trees, and they were financing protection programs overseen by the University of Queensland.

We saw dozens of white tents in the distance as we approached one of the entrances, spread out over the acres of meadow. We waited at the gate because Leah was supposed to meet Blair there. She agreed to after I threatened to accompany them.

“Are you serious? Like you’ll be our chaperone?” she had asked, unable to believe it.

“Yeah, unless you start acting normal, hanging out with your friends and letting me do the same with mine. Otherwise you’ll have me there watching you braid each other’s hair and trade multicolored friendship bracelets. Your choice. There’s two options. Both are fine with me; I’m getting drunk either way.”

“Do I have permission to do the same?”

“Nope. Not a drop of alcohol.”

“Fine, relax. I’ll call Blair.”

I didn’t give a sigh of relief until I saw her friend appear, walking toward us with a smile. I greeted her distractedly, thinking of how badly I wanted a beer, to hear some music, to relax, and to talk about whatever, anything that didn’t include tension or walking around on eggshells.

“Remember to keep your eye on your phone,” I told her.

“Fine but don’t…don’t take too long.” She gave me a pleading look, and I was about to change tack and drag her home, away from there, to the security of those four walls where she seemed to feel comfortable.

But then I remembered that shine in her eyes when I broke that shell she protected herself with, and I realized I had to keep pushing.

“I’ll call you later. Have fun, Leah.”

I walked inside and didn’t look back. Same as every year, the festival was packed and it took me a while to find my friends near the stalls where they were serving food and beer. I greeted Jake and Gavin with a clap on the back and ordered a beer. By that time, there were already several groups playing. Tom showed up a few minutes later, already a bit tipsy.

“It’s been weeks since I’ve seen you around.”

“You know, man, I live with a teenager full-time now.”

“Where’d you leave her?” Tom looked around.

“She’s with her friends. Tell me what’s what.”

We’d known each other since high school, but we’d never had a deep friendship. If they asked me for a favor, I’d do it, and Oliver and I had gone out with them for years, before and after we left Byron Bay, at night or to catch a few waves. All my friends, except for Oliver, had been more or less like that: simple, superficial, with that feeling that they would never go further than where they started. But that was enough for me.

“Didn’t think you’d be here.” Madison showed up later, when we’d already been there a few hours and I was worried enough about Leah to consider sending her a text to make sure she was okay.

I shook my head. I wasn’t the type to get tensed up or worried.

“How are things?”

“Good. Tom’s already soused.”

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