In memory of Nicole Lewanski

Seventeen
I
T
WAS
A
lazy Sunday morning, and Duck and I both had the day free. That was
rare nowadays, with Duck’s studies and newfound preoccupation with WYSA
taking so much time. The weather was light and breezy as we strolled hand in
hand down the main street of Paddington.
“What should we do today?” I asked.
“I don’t know. They have those gondolas at Centennial Park; maybe we can
catch one—get some ice cream as well.”
“They are so cheesy,” I said, with a laugh.
“Ice cream?” he teased.
“No, gondolas.”
“They remind me of Venice.” Duck’s parents took him on a tour around
Europe when he was nine.
“Venice,” I sighed, my heart swelling up with the vision of an exotic, faraway
place.
“I’ll take you there for our honeymoon.”
My stomach tightened. “Yeah,” I said absently.
We were walking past a jewelry shop when he stopped suddenly, pulled my
hand, and led me to the window.
“I need to get a new watch,” he said, scanning the display. “What do you
think of the blue Coach one?”
“It’s nice, but the Rolex is more 
you
.”
“Like I can afford one.”
“Well, you’re going to be a hotshot lawyer one day. You’ll have plenty of cash
then.”
“If I spend my money on anything, it will be on one of those.” He pointed at a
display of diamond rings farther up along.
I laughed. “Well, that’s a long way off, isn’t it?”
“Is it really?” He looked at me, his expression serious.
“Of course it is, Duck. We’re way too young.”

---

“You used to say how you couldn’t wait to turn eighteen because then we
could get married.”
I sighed. “I was a kid, Duck. Seriously.”
“Why are you acting like this?” He looked hurt.
“What do you mean? Like what?”
“Just—I don’t know. You seem distant lately, and I can’t work out why.”
I drew in a deep breath. I didn’t realize he had noticed anything was different
about me. But now that he had brought it up, I knew I could no longer keep
Rad a secret. This was the moment to tell him the truth. My heart was
drumming loudly in my chest. I swallowed.
“Duck—” I began.
“Look—” he said at the same time. “Sorry, what were you going to say?”
“It’s fine; you go first.”
He sighed. “I know we haven’t been spending a lot of time together lately, and
that’s mostly been my fault. I suppose I’ve been caught up with my studies and
getting ahead. I’m just working toward the future, our future.”
“I’ve been working hard too.”
“Well, your work is different from mine.”
“Why is it any different?”
He looked away, and I realized what he was implying.
“God. You think my career is less important than yours, don’t you?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?”
“Forget it,” he said, with a sigh. “I just have this whole plan in my head, you
know. And you’re part of it. You always have been.”
“Having babies and scrubbing the floor—is that your vision for me?”
“You make it sound so awful. You love kids; you’ve always wanted them.
What the hell has changed?”
“I think this is a conversation we should be having ten years from now.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
“Look, this is the first weekend you’ve had free for ages. I don’t want to spend
it fighting with you.”
“Don’t do that, Audrey,”
“Do what?”
“What you’re doing. It’s emotional blackmail.”
“Emotional blackmail? Are you kidding me?”
He was quiet, and he seemed to be thinking things over. His expression

---

softened.
“I was looking forward to spending the weekend with you,” he said after a
while. “I’m sorry; I don’t want to fight either.”
“It’s okay. You’ve been busy. I’m not going to hold that against you.”
He smiled. “I just—well, I really miss you. Lately, you’re almost like a
stranger.” He took my hand and pulled me to him.
“I’m still the same person.”
“I know, and I’m proud of you. Okay? Don’t ever doubt that.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“No more arguments today.” He smiled. “Deal?”
I put my head down on his shoulder. There was a dull ache in my chest.
“Deal,” I said.

---