𝙾𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝙴𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗

𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝟾𝚝𝚑

My eyes drift open. A delicate shadow of leaves sway on the yellow of Callie's bedroom wall. Cool air carries the smell of a eucalyptus forest, damp with the dew of an April morning. A kookaburra sounds outside; its companion soon joins in.

I pull the doona a little more over my shoulder and snuggle further beneath its warmth. Callie's bed frame has an inbuilt bed underneath, one to pull out. It's a child's bed, one meant for entertaining sleepovers. Although my toes curl over the mattress's bottom, we haven't outgrown the pastime.

The Ball juts into my consciousness. And the moments with Mick replay in my mind. Then Cooper's comments on the drive home.

Callie sounds a long inhale from her bed beside me, then continues her rhythmic breathing. At least when my best friend wakes up, she'll only have positive memories to revisit.

What's the time?

Picking up my phone, my home screen comes to life. Two notifications appear upon the screen.

Omg. Gabriel messaged me!

Ignoring the other message, I tap upon the message notification from Gabriel.

Hey Eden! You looked beautiful tonight. Wish you were at afters x

Gabriel thought I looked beautiful? Have I actually woken up? Am I still dreaming??? Who was the other message from?

I exit the message from Gabriel to see the list. The one above is from Mick. I tap on his message.

Thanks for being my ball date xx You looked amazing!

Fuck off. And in the same breath, I delete our messages.

And type a reply to Gabriel.

༄ ❀ ༄

Cooper stands beside me looking like he spent the night at the skatepark and not a vineyard. Cooper has resumed his hoodie, jeans and skate shoes look. Although, he even wears a beanie this morning.

Banksia Marina is backlit by the sunrise but none of its warmth. As we motor away, the colour orange seeps through the karri canopy and glows around sailboat masts. The low hum of the boat switches and the noise becomes louder, the boat faster. On the horizon, our destination: Wattle Island.

Home to little penguins, sea lions and childhood memories. Stationed, the Wattle Island Research and Conservation Centre. For the next week, Cooper and I will be tagging penguins, rehabilitating marine life and staying in the centre's accommodation.

My normal preference is to sit out the back; to be close to the ocean and surrounding elements. But the chill air crisps my skin, forming goosebumps beneath my fleece jumper.

Cooper pulls his hooded jumper over his head, revealing eyebrows with a crevasse between them. "Your lips are purple," Cooper comments, pushing the hoodie into my arms.

My reaction is to say I don't want it. That I'm fine. And I'll be okay. But Cooper's hoodie is heated, although having arrived express from summer. It smells of eucalypt campfires and ocean winds. I squeeze the hoodie to the top of my chest and rest my chin upon it. The word no melts in my mouth.

"Let's get you inside," Cooper suggests.

Ahead of Cooper, I walk into the cockpit where our skipper, Angelique, sits at the helm. With a fisherman cap atop of her auburn waves and intricate tattoos of ocean forna, she even looks the part of a waterwoman. The cockpit itself has two built-in couches either side below the windows. We sit down on the starboard side, our navy seating worn in with comfort.

Angelique looks over her shoulder, her amber eyes warm in greeting once again. Her focus returns to Wattle Island, then she asks with her cheery tone, "How come you guys are volunteering with us these holidays?"

"We're hoping to study marine biology next year and we want hands-on experience," Cooper says.

"Ooooh, how exciting!!!" Angelique enthralls, "What uni are you guys hoping to get into?"

"UWA," Cooper says, "It seems to have a really good course."

"I can confirm that it does."

"Did you go there?" I ask.

"I still go there," Angelique laughs, "I return after every research trip."

"What are you researching?" Cooper asks.

"My PhD focuses on little penguins and threats to their survival..."

Cooper and Angelique continue to converse but my focus is snatched by a grey shape. Through the portside window, I see it again; a fin sailing across the bottom of the glass. Leaving Cooper's jumper on the seat, I emerge from the cockpit and again subject myself to the cold. With my arms folded against my chest, I stride over to the railing and peer overboard. Against the boat, a dolphin swims alongside. And next to her, a juvenile. Their fins dip in and out of the ocean.

"Bow riding!" Angelique shouts, "Yewwww!"

"I have a mother and her calf!" I yell back.

Surrounding the boat now, a pod of bottlenose dolphins swim and leap as if ushering us to Wattle Island.

"I'm coming," Cooper responds.

I have the best find and Cooper stands by me in awe.

With the jetty in good view, Angelique slows the engine whilst my anticipation heightens.