Night Beach Read Online Free PDF

think
I’m
sitting
here?’
    ‘All
right,
all
right.’

    ‘Usually
they
go
away,
but
it’s
getting
worse.’

    ‘Well,
get
up
and
put
some
weight
on
it.
It’ll
hurt
more
but
then
it’ll
be
over.’
He
opens
    the
door
as
wide
as
it
will
go,
then
grabs
my
arms
and
pulls
me
off
the
seat.

    With
a
sharp
intake
of
breath,
I
stand,
balancing
on
my
left
leg.

    ‘Okay,
relax
it
again.’
Kane
kneels
down
and
starts
vigorously
rubbing
my
leg,
trying
to
    stretch
out
the
muscles.
‘I
get
’em
too.
It’s
the
cold
water,
and
then
because
you
tense
up
    against
it.
Dunno.
You
right?’
    ‘Yes.’
I’m
dying,
actually.
There’s
no
dignity
in
this
for
me
at
all.
His
hands
feel
so
warm,
    but
all
they
do
is
remind
me
my
leg
is
cold
and
goose
pimpled
and
probably
really
    unattractive.

    And
he’s
rubbing
so
hard
I’m
wobbling
like
jelly.
The
towel
I’m
wearing
comes
loose
and
    I
freak,
worried
that
all
the
jiggling
might
dislodge
the
condom
from
the
stretched
    elastic
of
my
bikini
top.
I
toss
the
towel
over
the
top
of
the
door
and
pinch
the
underside
    of
my
breast,
checking
I
can
still
feel
the
square
of
the
condom
through
the
worn
    material.
None
of
which
Kane
notices
because
he’s
focused
on
my
leg.
When
I
look
down
    at
the
top
of
his
head,
how
close
he
is
to
me,
my
stomach
hollows
out.

    ‘Okay,
okay,
that’s
enough,’
I
say.
I
feel
humiliated,
and
now
I
just
want
to
get
away.
    He
stops
rubbing.
‘Stand
on
it.’
    I
put
weight
on
my
leg,
slowly
stretching
out
the
remains
of
the
cramp
in
my
calf.

    ‘Better?’
he
asks,
looking
up
at
me.

    I
nod,
suddenly
choked.
    He
stands
up
slowly,
not
shifting
backwards
at
all,
resting
one
hand
on
the
roof
of
the
    ute
so
I’m
fenced
in.
‘Nasty
one,
hey?’

    ‘Yeah-‐no
–
sorry,
I
mean,
thanks.’
I
clear
my
throat
nois-‐ily.
‘Um,
your
bag
.
.
.’
I
whirl
    around
and
reach
inside
the
cab,
dragging
the
bag
across
the
seat.
Then
I
half
turn
    towards
him,
pulling
the
bag
across
my
body
and
handing
it
to
him
awkwardly
because
    he
hasn’t
moved
back
to
give
me
any
room.

    There
is
the
faint
smell
of
something
singed
hanging
in
the
air.
    ‘Ta.’
He
tosses
the
bag
on
the
ground
and
the
things
inside
make
a
crunching
noise
as
it
    lands.
If
that
exercise
book
was
never
in
the
bag
to
begin
with,
I’m
screwed.
    This
line
of
thought
stops
abruptly
when
I
look
back
at
Kane
and
discover
he’s
staring
at
    me,
his
teeth
working
over
his
bottom
lip,
his
green
eyes
too
bright.
I
want
to
squirm
    and
he
knows
it.
It
makes
me
paranoid
that
he
realises
all
the
things
I
think
about
when
    I
think
about
him.
    I’m
still
grasping
my
bikini
top,
and
his
gaze
travels
down
to
my
hand
and
then
back
up
    to
my
face.
I’m
too
cold
to
flush,
instead
I
feel
brittle.

    He
takes
the
towel
and
slings
it
over
his
shoulder.
‘All
right
if
I
take
this
back?’
    I
nod.

    ‘You
sure?’

    ‘Yeah,
I’m
okay.’

    He
lets
a
lot
of
silence
slide
by,
and
then
gives
me
this
knowing
little
smile.
‘You
can
    have
it,
if
you
like.
If
you
still
want
it.’

    The
dirty
way
he
says
it
–
I’m
not
completely
sure
he’s
talking
about
the
towel.
    Somebody
picked
up
a
personality
transplant
in
duty-‐free.
    ‘No,
I’m
going.
I’m
freezing.’
Flustered,
I
bend
to
duck
under
his
arm,
but
he’s
already
    stepped
back
out
of
the
way
and
is
closing
the
door
of
the
ute
firmly.
    I
grab
my
board
and
limp
off
down
the
driveway,
then
cross
the
courtyard,