The Great Between

Goodnight Little Speck

That night after dinner, just as I'm settling into a nice evening of reading and anxious thinking, Leo calls. Mum and Dad are playing cards in the lounge room and Gracie's taken control of the TV, so it's blasting some show about ice on Mars. It's so loud, I almost don't hear my phone buzz to life on the arm of the couch.

'Hello?'

'Hey, Stella,' Leo says.

Mum looks up at me and mouths, 'Who is it?'

I dismiss her with a wave, my cheeks warming, and skid down the hall to my room.

'Hey, Leo. How was the rest of your birthday?'

'It was okay,' he says. 'It was just my grandparents and lasagne – nothing fancy. Edward tried to come over, but Mum wouldn't let him, which is shit. But I guess that's just how things are at the moment. All anyone spoke about was the Virus and my grandparents left as soon as we'd finished eating. They're really scared of their friends getting it.'

We're quiet for a moment and I spin on my desk chair, trying to think of the right thing to say. I want to tell him I'm worried too, that I'm scared the Virus might get into Nana's nursing home and wipe everyone out.

'It does feel a little bit like the end of the world,' I say.

'Welcome to the Endtimes,' he says.

'Ragnarök is nigh.'

'Is that the Norse myth one?'

'Yeah, where Loki's children battle Odin's army and the gods die.'

'Like in Thor?'

I roll my eyes. 'Yes, like in Thor.'

'Do you still have a ranking of apocalypses?' he asks.

I'm taken aback for a second because I didn't expect him to remember that. He's good at stuff like that, though. He listens and stores away little snippets of people.

The first time we ever spoke, in our Year 8 English class, I was writing up a list of apocalypses in order of both survivability and coolness. I was obsessed with the end of the world that year. Leo leant over to read my list.

'Zombie apocalypse should be higher,' he said.

And I told him, 'Zombies are overrated.'

'No, zombies are the best.'

'Only a teenage boy would want to fight zombies.'

And that was it, Leo was off on a lecture about why zombies were brilliant and fighting them would be the most fun and terrifying thing anyone could do. He continued the conversation into lunch, following me to my locker and the bench in the courtyard Max and I occupied every lunchtime. When he noticed Max's Impossible Strangers t-shirt, he babbled about the band too, as Max glared at me for bringing this un-shut-up-able boy to our spot. He sat with us the next day and the next and the next. He never left.

Now, he says, 'Where do global pandemics sit on your list of apocalypses?'

'In terms of survivability, higher than most. In terms of fun, very low.'

'Thought so,' he says.

He's quiet for a moment and I fill the silence. 'I'm sorry you had a weird birthday.'

'You're not the Virus. It's not your fault.'

'I could've made it better though.'

'Are you flirting with me, Stella King?'

Yes, definitely, I think. But what I say is, 'Perhaps.'

He laughs as if the idea is completely inconceivable. I love Leo, but I think he might be the most oblivious person I've ever met. Everyone else has figured it out! I want to shout at him. Even Charlie!