A Girl Less Ordinary

by Leah Ashton

‘Not particularly,’ she said, reaching again for the door. ‘Okay? Can you go now?’

  ‘No,’ he said. Firmly.

  This seemed to surprise Ella. ‘Pardon me?’

  ‘Haven’t you heard that old adage? Turnabout is fair play?’

  She watched him steadily for a few minutes, as if weighing something up. ‘It’s an idiom,’ she said, eventually.

  ‘A what?’

  ‘What you just said.’ She sighed. ‘It’s an idiom. And it’s supposed to be about shared suffering. You just told me you like your new image.’

  Ella always was better than him at English.

  ‘But I have suffered,’ he said with a grin. ‘The launch party last night, the interviews so far and the many more to come.’

  But the fact was, with Ella’s help, he was dreading them marginally less.

  ‘Then take Armada’s board of executives up to your mountain,’ she said. ‘The campaign and your interview schedule had nothing to do with me.’

  Knowing he was mere seconds away from a door slamming that now seemed inevitable, Jake decided to ignore all previous platitudes about not shoving himself into a woman’s apartment. He stepped forward, just far enough so that closing the door was now impossible.

  Ella’s eyes blazed. ‘Hey! That’s not cool. I—’

  ‘Ella,’ he said, leaning forward and catching her gaze with his. ‘I want to spend the day with you.’

  Jake knew this subtle echo from last night was a risk—but the thing was, it was as simple, and as complicated, as that.

  What do you want, Ella?

  The unspoken question hung between them.

  ‘Jake, I—’

  ‘That’s all I want, Ella. Just today.’

  If he thought beyond that, it all became too messy and complicated.

  ‘What would be the point?’ she asked, sounding as defeated as she had last night.

  ‘Does there even have to be one? All I want to do is show you something, and I’m trying not to overthink why.’

  But he did know the reason. Thirteen years ago she thought he’d run away from her. He couldn’t end it this time with Ella running away from him.

  This felt...unfinished.

  He went to run a hand through his hair, before realising it was now far too short for the gesture.

  Ella wasn’t convinced. She was chewing on her lip and every line of tension in her body was pre-empting a definite no.

  ‘Please,’ he said, then swallowed. Why were these words suddenly so hard to say? ‘Come with me to the mountains. Let me show you something special.’

  Her expression shifted. Her eyes widened as she digested what he’d said.

  ‘You don’t invite anyone up to your place,’ she said, as if she’d just remembered that.

  ‘Exactly,’ he said.

  It should’ve been a difficult decision, but it had been anything but.

  He’d woken up that morning knowing exactly what he had to do. Beyond today, he had no idea. But right this moment he wanted to share the mountains with Ella.

  It took a really long time, but finally she nodded.

  ‘Fine,’ she said, sounding about as excited as he’d felt when she’d taken him shopping. She began to close the door. ‘Give me a few minutes to get dressed.’

  ‘Make sure you wear comfortable shoes,’ he said, relishing the chance to direct Ella’s clothing choices.

  He could hear her groan well after the door had slammed shut.

  * * *

  Ella had expected the long drive up to Blackheath, the small Blue Mountains town where Jake lived, to be painfully awkward. She’d imagined long, tension-filled silences. Polite, stilted conversations that led nowhere. And the memory of the night before to hover unspoken between them—shared memories of a kiss that had been as delicious as it had been unwise. And of a friendship that had ended so abruptly.

  She’d only been partially right. Yes, the electricity of their kiss had not abated, and its presence underlined every word they spoke. But the awkwardness—it was not there at all.

  They fell into easy conversation, a familiar rhythm despite the long years they’d been out of practice.

  They spoke of nothing in particular, really. They both carefully avoided anything too taboo. Obviously the previous night being the very, very top of that list.

  But they also avoided anything to do with work—with Armada, with her business, and definitely anything related to the campaign. It was as if, through mutual agreement, they’d decided to quarantine this day from anything too serious. Anything too complicated.

  That suited her just fine.

  Just like that day after the radio interview, she was reminded why, so long ago, they’d been near inseparable. It hadn’t just been because they were both outsiders at their exclusive high school, although ostracism had certainly pushed them closer.

  Ostracism would kind of do that.

  On the surface, they hadn’t had much in common. But they’d effortlessly spent hours together—talking or not, just hanging out. Laughing at each other’s bad jokes, that sort of thing.

  It was weird how she’d forgotten all that.

  At first, a small, persistent voice in her head kept telling her—in no uncertain terms—that this was not a good idea. It nagged and nagged and nagged.

  But then, she’d stopped making decisions based on whether her actions were good ideas or not about half an hour ago, when she’d agreed to come with him.

  Actually, her questionable decision-making had started well before then. In fact, every decision she’d made in the past twelve or so hours—save walking away from Jake after their kiss—had been a very, very long way from sensible.

  So, overall, it seemed a bit late to behave any differently.

  She decided Jake was right. This was just for today.

  And so she silenced those pesky voices of reason.

  And it felt good.

  * * *

  What didn’t feel so good, however, was hiking a million miles up a mountain.

  It was beautiful out here. She couldn’t argue with that.

  Beautiful and steep. Her aching legs told her so with every, single, seemingly never-ending step.

  They’d walked for ages along the Megalong Valley, amongst blue gums that towered so high they as good as touched the sky. They were, unbelievably, still on Jake’s property, and his Pointers—who must be the luckiest dogs in the world to have all this space as their backyard—galumphed and leapt in ecstatic loops around them. And behind them. And ahead of them.

  Their joy for life was contagious.

  It was a glorious winter’s day, and with the sun shining and a guide who looked rather hot in his cargo shorts, Ella could think of a lot worse ways to spend her Saturday. Even if this wasn’t the Saturday she’d intended.

  While the terrain had been relatively flat, Ella had been feeling quietly smug. It would seem that all of her dancing, plus her weekly Pilates classes, were the perfect training ground for the weekend mountain hiker.

  Or so she’d thought.

  As they’d begun their climb to the rather unoriginally titled ‘Look Out’ her erroneous smugness would’ve been comical if she’d been in any shape to laugh.

  Jake, who wasn’t even close to breaking a sweat, despite also carrying a backpack containing their lunch, would occasionally pause up ahead on the track and wait patiently for her.

  At this point he would also offer ‘helpful’ suggestions regarding her technique, which, as it was to get up this damn mountain in any way possible, led to some less than gracious reactions. The primary one being a narrow-eyed glare.

  Frustratingly, this just seemed to make his grin broader.

  As they walked further from the valley floor, the trees grew sparse and the shrubby understory thicker and more colourful. Some of the plants she recognised, like the banksias with their spikes of tightly packed yellow flowers, while others were unfamiliar, and she’d call out to Jake to identify them. Jake, of cours
e, knew them all.

  But finally the narrow little track opened up to an almost bald clearing of pale sandstone and tufts of dark green grasses.

  At first, she was so thrilled to have reached their destination that all she was capable of was closing her eyes and letting the slightest of breezes cool her skin. Only when her breathing slowed down to close to normal did she look at the view.

  And what a view it was.

  Above the irregular patchwork of cleared farmland and dense forest that covered the valley floor, sheer sandstone cliffs rose high and proud, harsh and abrupt with their sharp-edged rectangular angles. But beyond the drama of the cliffs were hills and peaks as far as the eye could see, undulating haphazardly beneath the haze of blue that gave the mountains their name.

  ‘Pretty special, isn’t it?’ Jake asked, walking up to where she stood, well back from the edge of the cliff. ‘And this is nothing like the proper lookouts like Govett’s Leap or Pulpit Rock, but then, I can’t take the dogs onto the national park and I don’t like leaving them behind. You should go check those out some time, too.’

  At her look of horror he smiled. ‘Don’t panic, you can drive up pretty close to those ones. Only a short walk to the view.’

  She noticed he didn’t offer to take her, and she had the oddest sense of disappointment.

  Why? This was a one-off.

  There was absolutely no reason for him to take her hiking ever again. There was also absolutely no reason for her to want to go hiking again. Quite apart from her current state of exhaustion and—probably temporary—hatred for all things hiking, until about three hours ago she’d believed that Jake Donner was, once again, out of her life.

  It had even been her decision.

  She needed to remember that.

  While she’d been enjoying the view, Jake had tied the dogs to a tree, and when she looked over her shoulder she could see their bodies stretched out long, their eyes closed as they recovered from their mountain-climbing adventure.

  As beautiful as the view was, she envied them. A nap sounded very tempting.

  Reading her thoughts, Jake jerked his head to where he’d dumped his backpack. ‘Come on, let’s have some lunch. You look like you need some sustenance.’

  This was very true.

  A few minutes later they sat cross-legged on a quilted blanket, their picnic lunch of very exotic ham and cheese sandwiches spread out before them.

  Oh, and he’d also brought a bottle of champagne.

  It was perfect.

  Again, slowly but surely, they began to talk, immediately breaking their unspoken agreement to keep their conversation uncomplicated. Ella was surprised to realise she didn’t mind.

  ‘What happened,’ Jake said quietly, ‘after I left?’

  The question didn’t sound at all random.

  Ella sipped her champagne, looking out at the view and not at Jake.

  ‘You mean at school?’

  ‘Yeah. And everywhere else, I guess. It must’ve been so hard for you, and for your dad.’

  The bubbly liquid in her throat was suddenly more difficult to swallow.

  ‘Well,’ she said, trying to sound light, as if none of it mattered. ‘Unsurprisingly, school pretty much sucked. No instant popularity. No sympathy vote to get me into the cool crowd.’

  That poor effort at black humour made Jake’s gaze soften.

  ‘Were you okay?’

  Without me?

  That was what he was really asking. ‘Of course I was,’ she said, firmly.

  And she was. Okay. Not good, certainly, not as good as when she’d had her parents and Jake. Not even close to good really. For years.

  But she’d survived.

  Jake looked sceptical. Worried. But he didn’t push.

  ‘When I heard about your dad...’ he started. A pause. ‘It just wasn’t fair. He was a good man.’

  She smiled. ‘An eccentric man,’ she said, remembering his crazy beard, obsession with incense and insatiable appetite for long, knowledgeable discussions about the environment and government policy. She’d loved him. ‘It was a long time ago now, nine years, almost. It was a blessing, in a way, as he was never the same without my mum.’

  ‘He was lucky to have you.’

  ‘Maybe,’ she replied with a shrug, but the simple gesture was really wildly inappropriate.

  Jake’s forehead wrinkled. ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Do you remember how he pretty much shut up shop when my mum died? He barely said a word. Didn’t seem to listen all that much, either.’

  He nodded.

  ‘Well, he never got any better.’

  That didn’t even begin to describe the reality of what had happened to her father. But then, how did you put into words or actions the reality of dealing with a man who once adored you, but was suddenly utterly remote?

  It was impossible.

  ‘I had no idea,’ Jake said, his voice heavy with regret. He shifted on the blanket, fidgeting as he rearranged his frame. ‘I told myself you’d be okay, that you had your dad who loved you, and that you didn’t need me.’

  ‘I didn’t need you,’ she said, and as she spoke she realised it was true. ‘Sure, I missed you. Heaps. And it hurt, for a really, really long time.’

  Ella somehow knew that now was not the time to sugar-coat.

  ‘Ella—’

  She cut him off.

  ‘It was good, in a way, you know?’

  He watched her blankly.

  ‘I mean to get over it. To get over needing people.’ She shrugged. ‘It taught me an important lesson. I need to rely on just me. No one else.’

  That way no one could let her down. No one she needed could leave her.

  ‘That’s not right, Ella. Of course you need people.’

  She laughed. ‘Seriously, Jake? You’re telling me I need people? Who, exactly, do you need, Jake?’

  Who have you ever needed?

  He went silent.

  ‘You’re different,’ Jake said, after a while. ‘You were brought up surrounded by love. Giving love. You do need people. You do need love.’

  She shook her head. Maybe once, but not any more.

  Now she had a life full of fun and laughter and activity. No pain. No loss.

  ‘But that doesn’t apply to you?’ she asked.

  He leant back onto his elbows on the blanket. ‘I’m not like you,’ he said, as if that explained everything.

  ‘Do you mean because of your parents?’

  He sucked in a sharp breath. She knew, without a smidgen of doubt, that she was the only person Jake would ever let ask him this question.

  Rather than making her feel good, she felt sad. So sad for him.

  ‘Did I tell you how my dad told me he loved me every single day? Every single day he told me I was his favourite boy. The best son in the world. That he’d love me for ever.’

  No. He’d never spoken about his father.

  She didn’t bother replying and, besides, Jake wasn’t waiting for her answer.

  ‘And you know all about my mum. And her emotions, the highs, the lows. The love.’

  He all but spat the word out, like a curse.

  He’d been looking out at nothing, over the edge of the cliff, but now he turned to her, meeting her eyes. ‘Is it all that surprising that I don’t know what to do with....’ a long, long pause ‘...emotions.’

  That hadn’t been what he was going to say.

  ‘And I certainly don’t know what to do with other people’s,’ he said.

  He was explaining, Ella realised. Why he’d never emailed, or called, or sent her that postcard.

  ‘You didn’t know what to do with me,’ she said, with a sad smile.

  He nodded. ‘Or with my mum. She was just so much, so much emotion, so many highs and lows.’ Jake swallowed. ‘I don’t feel like that, you know? I don’t have those feelings. I don’t get love. Not then, and not now.’

  Ella remembered the magazine articles, his heartbroken ex-girl
friend and the headlines: Georgina McAvoy’s exclusive claims—Jake Donner—what you see is all you get.

  Had she run away from Jake last night for exactly the same reasons? Couldn’t she handle the way he made her feel?

  Well, yes.

  But with Jake, it was more than that. She’d had to teach herself to keep her distance, to hold her emotions in check. With Jake it was who he was.

  Ella couldn’t kid herself, if she let herself, she was capable of love.

  And with Jake, that could only end one way.

  She would not put herself through that again.

  ‘You were right, you know, last night,’ Jake said. ‘That kiss was thirteen years too late.’

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘I was wrong. Kissing me then, or kissing me now—the outcome is the same.’ She went quiet for a long moment. ‘Isn’t it?’

  She hated the hope in those words.

  His gaze met hers again. He didn’t say a word, but they both knew the answer.

  The answering ache was now so familiar that she barely registered it.

  As if she wanted more, anyway. As if she wanted love.

  She’d come to Sydney determined to fill her life with fun, and glitz, and glamour, to create a world without a hint of the loss and the rejection of her past. Her friendships, both male and female, never, ever scratched beneath the surface.

  Although she wasn’t like Jake. She believed in love.

  It just wasn’t for her.

  Neither of them spoke for the longest time.

  Ella’s gaze drifted to the view, and the seemingly endless mountains that stretched all the way to the horizon. Eventually the atmosphere shifted—as if all this space had diluted their pain. Their regret.

  Slowly, infinitesimally, the silence gained a different hue. A lightness.

  ‘How’s the silence going for you?’ Jake asked, and his tone was completely different from before. He even managed a smile as he looked at her. ‘Driving you crazy, yet?’

  ‘You know, it hasn’t,’ she said, surprised.

  ‘Make sure you pay attention to it. To the silence. It helps.’

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘That sounds like something my hippy parents would have said.’

  ‘Just trust me,’ he said. ‘Lay back, shut your eyes, and listen to it.’

  It was on the tip of her tongue to point out that little contradiction, but she did as he asked, stretching herself out on the blanket, her legs crossed at her ankles and her hands resting lightly on her tummy, just above the waistband of her jeans.