My phone buzzed in my pocket with an incoming call.

Daria was performing some elaborate trick involving strawberries and a makeshift bow and arrow for the clamouring audience of our friends, and I was giggling and leaning almost imperceptibly—it barely happened, I did not have sexual relations with that woman Ms Lewinsky—into Jace as Kaelin wrapped her arms around herself in a mock make out session. But then my phone went off again, and the vibrations were incessant.

Jace and I had clambered down the stairs earlier to raucous applause and whistling from our friends. Jace didn't believe in outward displays of embarrassment, so he'd bowed and waved to the crowd as if they were adoring subjects, smiling confidently. I'd grinned and waved; though my grin was razor sharp and my wave only used one finger.

We'd spent the rest of the morning fielding questions, which I'd beaten off with nonsensical answers until my friends had given up. So, you're into Hartley now? Sorry, in the dark I thought it was someone else. So, what prompted you to jump into bed with Jace Hartley? An insatiable need for dick, obviously, Alex.

I pulled the phone from my pocket as Daria released the arrow until it cut the strawberry in two. My screen was lit up with a picture of my father wearing a nacho sombrero, and his name in the display.

"I gotta take this," I said quietly to Kaelin, slipping off the bar stool and stepping outside. The afternoon was warm and sunny, but I still wrapped my arms around myself with a sense of foreboding. I accepted the third call as it came in. Why would my father be calling me? Was something wrong? He had never called me so many times in succession; not since the police officers had told him about the accident, and I'd been left with 32 phone calls from my father, needing to hear my voice. A sense of panic clawed it's way up my throat; what if Liv had been in another car accident? What if Austin had? "Dad?"

"Hey, sweetheart," said Dad. His voice was calm, kind. The knot in my chest loosened. "Can you tell me why I just found Cole Knight pissing in your toilet?"

I blinked. Oh.

"Okay, Dad, I can definitely explain," I said in a rush. "But firstly, can you elaborate further on this story? Because it sounds really quite funny. Describe the exact expression on Knight's face. I'm also sorry; like, really, really sorry. I don't regret it, because Knight is the best and I wanted him to be safe. Did he tell you that his parents kicked him out? But whether you trust me right not or not, remember that no matter what I do, I'm still a better child than Austin."

I tried not to let my renewed sense of panic show, but I do not believe the attempt was successful.

"Woah, slow down there," Dad said. "I caught maybe three words of that."

I opened my mouth to start again, but in the background I heard Knight's voice. But it didn't sound like Knight; not completely. This voice was small and scared and plaintive, like that of a child. Knight's voice was smooth arrogance and loud confidence; this was diminished and foreign, and yet unmistakably him. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to cause... I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, mate," my dad said kindly. "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about."

A sense of relief flooded through me. I should've trusted my parents from the start; I should've had faith in their kindness, in their understanding.

"We can sort something out for you," said Dad. "We could set you up a room, help you get back on your feet. We can go over to see your parents, I'm sure this is all just a misunderstanding."

My heart sunk. I had been right. My dad wasn't a bad person; he was the kind of person who had faith in his friends. And I was the kind of person who had faith in mine.

"Dad," I said firmly. "Can you wait until I get home before you make any decisions, or form any opinions? Can you please just wait?"

"Well, of course," said my Dad, a hint of confusion in his voice now.

Knight's voice came from the background again. "No, tell Lena not to worry. It's okay. It won't be a problem, I promise."

Something in his voice made my throat feel thick and heavy. "I'll be home soon," I promised, and hung up the phone.

I immediately tapped out a message to Knight. Don't worry. Promise me you won't worry.

Three bubbles appeared, showing me that he was typing. But no message ever came through.

"Guys, I think I'm gonna have to head off now," I said with a sigh, as I closed the screen door behind me and tucked my phone back into my butt pocket. We weren't due to check out for another hour, but I wanted to explain to my parents in person; to advocate for Knight, before they made up their minds about the boy living in my walk-in wardrobe.

"Why?" Daria asked. She had a small frown furrowing her brow.

I hesitated. No one but Jace and Chance knew of Knight's living situation, and I knew that he wouldn't want them to either. "Family issues," I said, with a tight smile. It was hardly a lie.

Jace frowned. "Everyone okay?"

"Yeah," I said, waving off their concern. "It's all good, I should probably just run home though."

"Cole took the car," Alex reminded me. "You were supposed to get a lift home with us. It would be fine, we've just paid a deposit on a table for lunch at the Chocolate Factory." He looked apologetic.

"That's fine," I said. "I'll just Uber home."

"That would cost a small fortune!" Jace protested. I didn't want to remind him that I had enough money to cover a limousine to cart me around like Chuck Bass in Gossip Girl, because that would make me sound like a bit of an entitled wanker; it would make me sound like, well, Chuck Bass. "I'll take you."

Kaelin and Alex shared a smirk.

"It's really okay," I said faintly. I didn't know if the thought of a two hour trip in the car with Hartley made my heart soar or my stomach sink; it was a strange mixture of both. Because, well, I knew I wanted to hook up with him. We were friends, and he was good at it. But I could hardly make out with him while he was driving, and I had no idea where we stood in the spaces between kissing.

"No, I insist," he said firmly.

I looked over at Daria helplessly, but she didn't pick up on the desperation in my expression. "Is he a good driver?"

Daria shrugged. "I've never seen him drive; I always do it."

"That is not comforting."

Jace smiled comfortingly at me. "I promise I'm not worse than Knight."

At the mention of Knight's name, my stomach knotted. I imagined him sitting awkwardly in my bedroom, my parents staring down at him, uncomfortable and waiting for me to save him, to vouch for him. I looked down at my phone; he hadn't texted me.

I sighed. "Alright, Hartley, it's time for a road trip."

I said goodbye to my friends, who, by that point, had started tidying up the place for checkout. Daria blew me a kiss as I collected my bag from the foot of the steps, and Kaelin and Callie waved. The boys grunted noncommittally. Jace was already waiting in the car.

McKenna gave me a hug, as if to say goodbye. "Congratulations," she said sunnily, with a small smile.

"For what?" I asked.

"You and Jace," said McKenna. "The... dating thing."

I was stunned. McKenna thought Jace and I were dating now? And was her congratulations sarcastic? Mad? No, surely not. McKenna didn't have a cruel or vengeful bone in her body. And yet, she was still seemingly in love with Jace; why would she congratulate that?

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Daria was shoving a neatly wrapped cake into my hands. "The third birthday cake," she proclaimed. "It's red velvet. You can eat it on the way home."

Then she was ushering me out the door, and I didn't have time to ask McKenna any of the questions swirling through my mind.

Jace had already loaded most of our bags into the car and had the engine running, and I felt a rush of gratitude. He was hurrying to get home for me. I slung my bag into the back seat and climbed into the passenger seat beside him, waving goodbye to the cluster of our friends in the doorway.

"Ready?" asked Jace.

"Yeah," I said. "And thank you."

"Anytime." He had pulled the car out of the driveway and was halfway down the road before he asked, "So, what's wrong?"

I looked over at him, frowning. "Who says anything is wrong?"

Jace didn't take his eyes off the road, concentrating responsibly, the way I would expect from him, but his tone spoke volumes. "Lena, I know when something is wrong with you."

I sighed. "Dad found out about Knight."

"That he's living with you?"

"Yeah." I shook my head. "I've just got to convince him that Carl and Daniella didn't make a mistake. It's not a misunderstanding; they kicked him out. I just..." I sighed. "I don't want to lose him."

"You won't," said Jace.

"How can you be so sure?" I asked.

I wasn't sure. Cole Knight had, somehow, someway, become one of the most important people in my life. He'd wheedled his way into my life, into my heart. Jace might be my greatest challenge, my greatest rival. He would always be the force that pulled me in and pushed me away. But Knight was my mirror, my best friend. He said everything I thought, and thought everything I said. We were one and the same. He was a permanent fixture at my side, and I refused to let that change. I looked hopefully at Jace, needing his reassuring words.

Jace's answering smile was gentle. "Because it's Cole," he said. "He's the clingiest best friend I know, and he would refuse to stop annoying you daily. You couldn't get him to stop if you wanted to. Even if your dad kicked him out of the house, which I'm sure he won't."

"What if he does?"

Jace shrugged. "Post something on Instagram that says you have a new best friend. He would stick to your side like permanent glue."

I couldn't help but grin in response. It was okay, really. All I had to do was get home, and defend my best friend to my father. He would let Knight stay; he had to.

My phone buzzed in my pocket again, and I pulled it out. It was Austin.

"Hey, little bro," I said down the line. "Tell Knight to unknot his panties, because I'm on the way home. Tell him that Hartley's shitty Holden Commodore is my white horse."

"Lena," said Austin. His voice was cautious, soft. As if he were approaching a wild cat. "Cole is gone."

My stomach dropped. It felt like the first moment on the top of a roller coaster, when you were looking down at the expanse of twisting paths and open sky, but all you could think about was the moment when the cart fell, and you were weightless and flying. And then you were failing.

"What do you mean?" I demanded. "What do you mean he's gone?"

"He ran out." I could hear my dad in the background, calling Cole's name. The sound was like an echo that beat in time with my heartbeat. I could see Jace, his brows furrowed in concern, his focus still fixed on the road; on getting me home to save a boy who was already gone. "He said that he was sorry, and Dad went to get him some proper food, and when we came back, he was gone. He didn't even take any of his things."

"Shit." I remembered when we'd first arrived at Philip Island, and I'd been struck with the realisation that everything that signified Knight's presence in my life could be bundled into a single bag; that his influence could be swept away in a single moment. He hadn't even done that; hadn't left the clean slate. He had left us with a painful reminder of all that had been. I swallowed. "It's okay, we'll find him. He'll come home."

"He will," Austin promised fervently. I sometimes forgot how close they'd become; like two brothers, bickering over video game controllers and the last slice of hidden pizza. Afternoons when I wasn't there, spent lazing around together; the only other child who knew his secret, for such a long time. "We'll bring him home." Then he hung up.

My home was his home. Chambermore was home to Cole Knight now, whether he liked it or not.

Jace reached over to put a hand on my knee; a comforting weight, a small pressure. "He'll be back. I know he will."

I smiled, but it was so impossibly small, so insincere. "I guess it's time to post that best friend picture, huh. How long before he comes running back to me? I give him five minutes, tops."

But I remembered the lost, sorrowful boy I'd heard on the phone; the one who sounded nothing like my best friend. Cole Knight might come back, but I didn't know if that boy—that scared, alone, abandoned boy—would.

I wasn't sure I knew that boy at all.