I found a one-bedroom apartment for fifty bucks a night in the CBD—Perth’s central business district, nothing to do with the oil.
Its main selling points were the pullout couch and the fact that it didn’t require any human interaction to exchange a key. The host messaged me a code to type into the high-tech door, and that was that.
The bedroom was small but bright, with barely enough space for a queen bed and magenta dresser. A painting of red rock formations hung on the wall above the bed, which was wrapped in turquoise sheets and lime-green blankets.
The rest of the apartment had a mismatched vibe as well, which I loved. The white pullout couch was the only bland furniture, though it also sported frilly orange throw-pillows.
“So, how long are you in Perth for?” Evan asked, lounging at the bright yellow table.
I shrugged. “I have a one-year tourist visa, so I’m going from city to city as the mood strikes. I just have to fly back home from Sydney next May. What about you?”
“I’ve got another month on my visa. Two more weeks in Perth, then two in Cairns,” Evan replied.
Cairns, pronounced like ‘cans’, is a city in tropical north Queensland that was at the top of my Australia list.
There are rainforests and waterfalls and beautiful beaches. I was thinking of taking a bus up or down the Australian east coast with Cairns as a starting point or destination.
“Sweet. I’m excited to see Cairns whenever I get there.”
“Well, if you want to come with me, you’re welcome to stay in my hostel,” he offered.
I couldn’t help but wrinkle my nose. “I can’t do the hostel life anymore,” I told him.
“Really?” Evan was somehow surprised, as if hostels weren’t the grossest things in the world. “I love hostels. That’s how I meet people when I travel.”
I smirked. “Exactly. I’m not really the friend type.”
Evan furrowed his brows, which were equally delicious as his eyes and hair. Brown was quickly becoming my favorite color. “You’re traveling solo for a year, and you aren’t trying to make friends?”
Evan’s brows remained furrowed in the sexiest possible way. “You invited me to stay with you.”
“I did do that,” I acknowledged.
“Does that make me special?”
“Only if you don’t kill me.”
He snorted. “We should do the passport thing…”
We photographed each other’s passports and sent them to our loved ones.
My only loved one was my brother Will. I knew he’d be pissed that I was traveling with a stranger, considering I am 50 percent of his loved ones, splitting the role with his girlfriend Courtney.
If said stranger chopped me up into tiny pieces, Will would be left with a single loved one, which might upset him.
Whatever; nothing he could do from New England.
“Have you gone to Rottnest Island yet?” I asked Evan after we were done ensuring our safety from each other.
He shook his head. “Nah. I was supposed to go with some of the guys I met at the hostel today, but then my mom stole the rest of my life savings, so I figured I’d better stay back.”
I nodded understandingly. That was definitely the mature, painful thing to do. “Well, I’m thinking of going tomorrow if you want to come.”
He twisted one side of his lips to express disappointment. I call it the whomp face.
“I would, but I’m broke,” he sighed.
I had a decision to make, and I needed one answer before I could make it. “Are you a snitch?” I asked.
“Depends. If you murdered someone, yeah. If you stole a candy bar, no.”
I appreciated his honesty. “What if I extorted my mother?”
He pondered that for a moment. “The pyramid scheme one?”
I nodded.
“I wouldn’t snitch.”
I shared the extortion story, and Evan accepted my offer to buy him a ferry ticket to Rottnest Island.
I liked Evan. He was wonderful to look at, but I also liked him in a friendly sort of way.
He was low-stress. Fun. Nice. Easy to talk to.
I’m not usually much of a talker, although I’m not shy. Still, despite my aversion to friendly chat unless there’s a point to it, somehow Evan and I talked the rest of the day.
We chatted until we were hungry, and then we chatted over kebabs. Then, we chatted through the aisles of the supermarket, and then some more when we were back at the Airbnb.
We talked and laughed and cooked pasta with vegetables, and then we watched the sun set, and then went to bed.
I never fall asleep easily because I get horrible nightmares—notice, dear reader, that this is present tense, not past, because I still get them.
Anyway, I figured I’d have an even more difficult time drifting off that night, on account of the near-stranger being twenty feet away, but I didn’t. I fell asleep in normal Sophie time.
The point I’m making is that I was comfortable, and for me being comfortable with someone is a lifetime achievement.
Rottnest Island is a ninety-minute ferry ride off the coast of Perth.
The ferry left at 8:45 a.m., so Evan and I had plenty of time to grab breakfast at a nearby café and stroll through Perth’s CBD prior to our island adventure.
It was only my third day in Australia, but the coffee situation was already getting to me. Australia was hot. Really freaking hot. I wasn’t used to heat, being from Massachusetts and having attended college in Michigan.
I would drink iced coffee the year round. Australians don’t. The café we stopped at didn’t serve iced coffee, and Evan laughed at me as I choked down a steaming cappuccino before we boarded the ferry and snagged seats on the top deck.
“So, besides your pyramid scheme mom…”
“Linda,” I reminded.
“My bad,” Evan laughed. “Besides Linda, tell me about your family.”
“I have a crazy family,” I warned him.
“Did the apple fall far from the tree?” he teased.
“The apple fell, rolled onto a plane, and took off to Australia,” I deadpanned, breathing in the salty air, wishing I could send Linda and Noah to Davy Jones’s locker.
“Is everyone else in on it?” he pried.
“Linda runs BHC with Sebastian, with whom she cheated on my father for almost thirty years. Sebastian is my brother Noah’s biological father, so Noah’s technically my half-brother. He’s in prison.
“He kidnapped someone, but she’s fine now. Linda and Sebastian paid her off. My full-brother is Will. He’s a lawyer. He was on the news a couple weeks ago for suing the boss who made his secretary strip for a promotion.”
“Did you see that?” I added.
Evan blinked a couple times. “Uh…no.”
“Oh. You should look it up. It’s a good story. Anyway, Will is dating a fashion designer, Courtney. Courtney and Will are normal.”
I paused to scan Evan’s face, wanting to ensure he was following my ramblings. The Callahans were—and still are—a complicated bunch, and I preferred not to dwell on them for longer than was required.
“Our father…Will and mine…just married his baby mama,” I continued. “They have a two-year-old named Seraphine. I haven’t met her because Will’s the only family member I speak to,” I wrapped up.
“Holy shit!” Evan exclaimed. “I’d go to Australia too.”
“Yeah, they aren’t fun to be around, except for Will.”
Evan smiled. “What’s Will like?”
I liked that Evan was interested. It was sweet.
“You know those people who are really smart and mean well but sometimes say the wrong things?”
Evan nodded.
“That’s Will. He’s great, though. Probably the most selfless person I’ve ever met. He’s been there for me through everything.” I stopped my blabber with an effort and forced a smile, “Anyway, what’s your family like?”
Evan paused just long enough so that I knew he was curious about what I meant by ‘everything’; though he didn’t ask, which was considerate.
“I have a younger sister, Marilyn. She just graduated from the University of Rochester. My parents are divorced, too. My mom went a little crazy after my sister and I moved out—she started getting involved in pyramid schemes.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Divorces suck.”
He shrugged.
“They hated each other for a while, so it was kind of a relief, honestly. Now they can move on with their lives.”
I wondered what it would be like to be happy for my parents’ happiness. To root for it, even.
I wished Linda and Paul nothing but doom and gloom. Nothing against Seraphine (except her name) or Genevieve, my father’s new wife. They were fine. It was the Callahans I hated, except Will.
The conversation moved to college and home in the US, and the ferry ride flew by. As we disembarked, Evan turned to me, grinning. “You gonna do the tour?” he asked.
Our ferry tickets included a bus tour around the island.
I was inclined to skip it, but Evan’s eyes were lit up with excitement, so I grinned back and told him yes. He bounded over to the coach bus, yelling that he’d save me a seat, while I took in my surroundings.
Crystal-blue ocean. White beaches. Bright, Kelly-green brush. A tannish visitors’ center that I ignored because it wasn’t nature, and I was here for the nature.
I hoped the tour would be quick. I wanted to flop on the beach.
The tour was an hour long, but Evan hung onto the operator’s every word, which was adorable. As the guide started talking about prisoners who were brought to the island in days past, Evan’s mouth popped open.
He leaned forward in his seat, taking in everything. Evan was like a sponge, absorbing arguably useless information and loving every second of it.
I barely caught a thing. I won’t lie to you. I was caught up in Evan.
Like I said, I was doomed.
