Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Wednesday 9 December

6.20pm. My room. 

I know, it's been forever. But there's been a lot going on since I last wrote. Since I realised that my awkward crush on my best friend is in fact full-blown, all-consuming, heart-racing, cheeks-flaming, sleep-ruining, I-want-to-spend-the-rest-of-my-life-with-her… Love. 

Kissing Rollo and Eden made me realise that sure, I like boys and I like girls. 

But I only want her. 

Which is highly inconvenient because she's on the other side of the world. 

I think I’ve spent the past few weeks just in a bit of a daze, really. I mean, how absolutely dense am I to have only just figured this out now? I’m meant to be the smart one! And now that I know how I feel about her, it’s all I can think about. I’m doing my best to focus on my studies, but suddenly my biofluidics project doesn’t quite hold the same appeal. Especially when my mind is full of daydreams about going sightseeing with her and cuddling up by an open fire in some quaint English pub. 

In fact I should probably be working right now. Instead I’m journaling while also searching for flights to London. 

6.50pm.

Rollo just stopped by my room.

‘You got another one, Ms Maltese’, he announced, peeking his head around the door that my mum keeps reminding me to leave open. 

I didn't know what he meant at first. I had my head in my dissertation methodology and didn't appreciate having my focus pulled so abruptly. That is, until I saw what was in his hand. 

Rollo laughed at my tail, which I can never seem to control whenever the postie has been. Sometimes even a glimpse of the dog who delivers our mail can set me off, even if he's got nothing for me. But today was my lucky day. 

‘Gimme gimme’ I demanded, reaching up for my mail. Of course Rollo used his height to be utterly infuriating and hold it just out of reach. ‘You know I've done a self-defence class, right?’ I warned him. 

Luckily that did the trick, as he dropped the postcard into my waiting hands. This one had a photo of Arthur's seat on the front; evidently from Bingo's recent trip to Edinburgh. I remembered the selfie she had sent me from the top of the hill. She looked dishevelled. Hot. 

‘I’m… uh… gonna leave you to have a moment with your postcard,’ Rollo teased. ‘But I'm making a tagine later if you wanna help. Might be a portion going spare if you're lucky.’ 

I smiled appreciatively. Rollo always seems to have a portion going spare. Well, except for last week when he gave his last bit of jalfrezi to Izzy. But I didn't mind as she's been having a bit of a rough time lately. Plus his curries are too hot. 

I barely waited for Rollo to leave before I took the postcard to my bed and read it. Multiple times. I spent more time than I'd like to admit studying every detail. The gentle loop of her handwriting. The way she writes my name. The number of X's at the bottom. There's no rhyme or reason to the amount of kisses she adds. Sometimes it's three. Sometimes it's only one. This one had four. I've tried to figure out if there's a pattern, but I think it's completely random. It's an infuriating puzzle. 

Once I've got as much as I can out of my postcards I stash them in my drawer in order of despatch date (they don't always arrive in the order she sends them). I then picked up my phone to tell her that I'd got another greeting from Scotland. It's still the middle of the night where she is, so I was surprised to get a reply. 

I thought of you a lot on that climb.

My tummy fluttered, until I saw the follow up message.

Remember the time me, you and Bluey went hiking and you fell over after getting jump scared by that goat? I couldn't stop laughing about that on my way up!

Hmm, not quite how I want her to think of me, but I’ll take it. 

Friday 11 December

1.30pm. The lab. 

I've decided to go home for Christmas. I was tempted to skip it and make the most of the campus being quiet to get ahead on my final project. But right after calling Mum to break the news I was hit with such an acute pang of home sickness that I changed my mind. Mum bought the plane ticket an hour later. 

As I haven't been home since March all I really want to do is curl up on my mum's couch and veg out with her, Leo and Bruce. But I know I should make some plans while I'm there. Missy will probably be back too so I'll see if she's free. 

I don't remember when I last spent time with Missy without Bingo also being there. The temptation to confide in Missy about everything that's been going on is strong. But it doesn't seem fair to spill the contents of my heart to her when I haven't even plucked up the courage to tell Bingo that I like girls. I don't want Missy to feel like she's stuck in the middle of all this. 

1.42pm.

I should probably swing by and visit Chilli and Bandit as well. With both daughters away from home at Christmas they might appreciate a visit. I usually get them a little joint gift, and this year shouldn't be an exception. In fact, given that I'm in love with their daughter, I should probably get them something extra nice. Y’know, to thank them for making her. 

Wednesday 23 December 

7.20am. Melbourne Airport Terminal 4 departures

Just waiting to board. The airport is pretty hectic, full of dogs heading home for the holidays. Normally I'd like to just sit and watch the world go by, but I'm feeling a little antsy. Mum gently suggested that I leave my laptop in Melbourne so I could have “a proper break” from uni work. I reluctantly agreed, but now that I'm without it I feel guilty somehow. 

I'm only staying for 5 nights, which I know doesn't seem like a lot, but if I stayed home any longer there's a risk I might not want to come back. That's not to say I'm not enjoying Monash. I love it, really. The course is challenging but in the best way, and I have got myself some amazing friends. But I miss home.  I can't describe how giddy I feel at the thought of my mum's homemade lasagne tonight. Oh, and seeing my mum too, I guess. 

Last night we held our own Christmas gathering at the dorms: a BBQ that started off as a relatively small gathering and turned into a full-blown party. 

While I stayed away from the grill, I contributed by making Eton mess (I felt pavlova was a bit too ambitious for that amount of people). 

I took a photo of my bowl of meringue and strawberries in the afternoon sun and sent it to Bingo. It's become a bit of a habit now. I just want to share my world with her. The reply came through just a minute later. 

Are you trying to make me jealous? It's freezing here 🥶

In return she sent me a photo of the view outside her hostel. It was still dark, dawn barely breaking through. The cars were covered in sheets of frost, glistening under the street lights. Feeling mischievous, I responded with a selfie of me in my sunnies, using Penny's handheld fan. Her response was swift and succinct.

I hate you. I’m so cold right now.

I took a sip of fruit punch, and feeling emboldened, I typed: 

Aww…Wish I could be there to warm you up. 

Bingo did that infuriating thing where she started typing, and then stopped. After the third time of her doing this I was gripped with fear again. Stupid me and my fast fingers! Finally she responded. 

Oh? And how exactly would you do that? 

After momentary relief that she didn't seem to be freaked out, my brain flailed for a response. I thought of slipping into her bed. Of wrapping myself around her like a scarf and feeling her melt like an ice cube on my tongue. But there was no way I could share those thoughts with her. So instead I shot back with: 

I'd totally lend you a jumper. You've seen my collection. I've got enough to go round. 

She started typing again, and was taking ages. Which was why I was disappointed to get only a single-word response. 

Oh.

Rollo picked that moment to sneak up behind me and give me a jumpscare. ‘Honestly, watching you two flirt is like watching two goldfish try and play chess,’ he quipped.

After telling him off for reading over my shoulder, I realised that he was right. I find it impossible to strike the right balance when messaging Bingo. Of course I want to tell her how I feel. But the moment I drop the subtlest of hints, the fear rises up again and I row back. 

The thing is, sometimes it feels like she's doing the same to me.

Thursday 24 Dec (Christmas Eve)

9.24pm. My room (as in… my actual bedroom)

Being home has been lovely. Spending quality time with my family. Bubble baths. Lounging in the hammock with a good book. Getting absolutely spoiled with all my favourite home-cooked meals. I didn't know I needed it as badly as I did. 

I stopped by the Heeler's today to drop off their gift. I got them a nice bottle of red, and Mum has made everyone homemade bath bombs so I popped in some of those as well. It wasn't until I got to their door that I realised why I felt so weird: I was nervous. I wondered how much they knew about me and Bingo, and whether she had told them anything about the kiss, or the reason behind our fight back then. 

Luckily all worries evaporated when Chilli opened the door and pulled me in for the tightest and most comforting hug. The Heeler house is a home from home for me, and so it was easy to step inside for a cup of tea. Bandit asked me about my course and the facilities at Monash as Chilli put on the kettle. Of all the people I know, he's a fella who can really put you at ease with his effortless warmth, and soon I found myself sharing funny stories about what I've been up to. 

As the three of us caught up, I began to wonder why I had ever felt nervous. Bandit offered me some fruit salad, and when he went to fetch it I spotted something pinned to the fridge door with a magnet. 

‘A postcard from Bingo?’ I asked. It was one from her trip to Stratford-upon-Avon; I have the same one crammed in my drawer back in my dorm. 

‘Yup,’ Chilli confirmed, smiling fondly at the postcard. She must be so proud of Bingo, even if she's missing her every day.

I started telling them both how much I love getting postcards from Bingo. How they always seem to land when I'm having a tough day and make everything so much better. Chilli exchanged a look with Bandit. 

‘Uh, how many postcards has she sent you, Lila?’ Bandit asked. 

When I told them that I typically get one a week, sometimes two, I genuinely thought Chilli's eyebrows would shoot through the ceiling. 

‘You’re honoured! That's the only postcard she's ever sent us,’ Chilli revealed. 

I quickly changed the subject, asking about their plans for tomorrow. They're going around Bingo's aunt and uncle’s this year. Bingo and I used to go there a lot as teens to splash about in their pool and hang out with Muffin and Socks. Well, Bingo would swim while I sat with Socks and enjoyed the cool shade of their gazebo. ‘You’re very welcome to pop round if you're at a loose end, Lila. I'm sure the cousins would love to see you.’ 

I shook my head, explaining I already had a packed day planned. Chilli nodded in understanding. ‘Well, maybe next year, sweetheart’ she said. And again, she shared a pointed look with Bandit.  

When I got home I helped Mum prep a few bits and pieces in the kitchen for tomorrow. She was impressed with my knife skills, much improved since Rollo made me into his sous chef. At the mention of his name I could practically see the cogs turning in my mum's brain.

‘This Rollo… he’s become quite a good friend to you lately,’ she stated. I could tell she was trying her hardest to keep her tone breezy and neutral. She paused, and I braced myself for the question. ‘Are you two… more than friends?’ she finally asked. 

She seemed a little disappointed in my answer (which was basically an amused snort). I guess I don’t blame her. It probably doesn't make sense to her why I'm not head over heels for Rollo. After all, he is an absolute babe, and maybe under different circumstances I could’ve really fallen for him. 

This would’ve been the perfect time to tell Mum the truth. I’ve tried to tell her so many times, but always bottled it at the last minute. Which is crazy as I know she’ll support me; she’s the best mum in the world. But I think I’m still feeling a bit guarded about it all. 

So instead we chopped salad, deveined prawns, and talked about everything except what’s going on inside my heart. 

Friday 25 December (Christmas Day)

6.30pm. My room. 

Just dropping in to decompress. On the whole it's been a good day, but it's been…a lot. Mum's just left to drop Nana back to the care home. I don't want to go into everything right now, but I think it'll be the last time she can come to ours for Christmas. Once Nana was safely in the car my Mum just gave me the biggest hug. That’s when I realised how much she's been sheltering me from how bad things are getting. 

7.15pm. 

Bingo called. I wasn't expecting it. Luckily it wasn't a Faceytalk; I wouldn't want her to see my puffy eyes. 

We each talked about our day (well, she talked about her Christmas Eve, because time zones). I didn’t even have to rehash everything that had happened with Nana. Bingo just got it. She lost her own Nana last year, though that was a mercifully quick passing. Not the slow fade of my Nana's illness. 

There was a lull in the conversation, and I grabbed the chance to ask her the question on my mind. ‘Were you nervous to come out to your parents?’

Bingo seemed a little surprised about the question, but she answered me anyway. She said that she had felt a little nervous. ‘Not because I was scared of what they would say,’ she explained, ‘but it’s always hard to be a little vulnerable. Why do you ask?’

I said that I just wanted to know, as she and I haven’t talked about it before (‘it’ being her raging lesbianism). I asked her if it ever felt weird to her, and if she had ever felt shame or embarrassment about her queerness. 

‘Nope,’ she said simply. ‘You’ve got to understand, Lila’ she began, and I loved the way her mouth wrapped around my name. I always have.

‘I watched all my friends-you included-go absolutely boy crazy. And it felt like I was watching it all through a pane of glass. I couldn’t understand the appeal at all. I genuinely started to wonder if there was something wrong with me. And it made me sad to think I was missing out on something so universal.’ 

‘You weren't missing much, girl,’ I joked. And she giggled.

‘Do you realise how much of a relief it felt to know that I wasn’t broken?” she continued. ‘Figuring out that I’m gay was like the biggest shame eradicator. Because why should I be ashamed of something that I have absolutely no control over? Something that is such a big part of me?’

While she was explaining all of this, I slipped into bed and put the phone on the pillow beside me, like usual. It wasn't enough. It never is.

‘I want to hug you so hard right now,’ I admitted. 

There was silence on the line. But then she said ‘me too,’ and my heart soared. It took everything I had not to confess my love to her right there and then. 

She’s now gone off on a Christmas day adventure. I’m in my childhood bedroom surrounded by my family. And yet I’ve never felt so homesick. 

11.10pm. 

I came out to Mum. I can’t believe it. She knows. I’m so happy!

So, Mum got home while I was finishing up my call with Bingo. By this point Bruce was passed out on the recliner chair and Leo was in his room gaming or something. So it was just me and her. We each poured a glass of wine and sank onto the couch. 

Mum offered to comb my hair and I was ecstatic. I love having my hair combed, and Mum knows exactly how I like it done. She’s so gentle I’ve even fallen asleep in the past. I relaxed as she got to work. I have missed it so much. 

I tried to think of the last time I'd had my hair combed like this, and I remembered. Bingo's nimble fingers at the nape of my neck, teasing out flecks of dried mud in the autumn sun. The moment of bliss before I pressed my body to hers and tasted her orange soda kisses. 

‘Your tail is wagging, sweetheart,’ my mum said absentmindedly. She was watching some cheesy early 00s romantic comedy on the TV as she played with my hair.

‘Oh sorry. I was just thinking about how good dinner was earlier,’ I lied, willing myself to be calm. Thankfully Mum bought it. She knows how I feel about her cooking. After all, Leo was the one who inherited her culinary skills, not me.

‘You work so hard, Lila,’ she said, seemingly out of the blue. ‘I really hope you’re taking time for yourself now and again.’

I assured her that I am. I told her about the shopping trips with Fizz and Izzy, the social events with dogs from my dorms and my masters course. And then I thought about the recent meet ups with Eden and her crowd. ‘I even joined a society,’ I said, trying to keep my tone as neutral as possible. 

Mum smiled broadly. ‘That’s fantastic! I’m so glad. Which society?’ 

This is where I faltered. I felt so tense I thought I was going to shatter the wine glass in my hand. ‘It’s the LGBTQ society.’

She stopped playing with my hair. ‘As an ally?’

I shook my head, feeling the nerves rising. ‘Not exactly.’ I sat up, daring myself to face her. 

There was this agonising silence as I watched her process this information. Eventually she frowned and looked at me. ‘Oh, so…which letter are you?’ 

Normally I can read her expression like a book, but tonight I was struggling. Still, there was no going back now. I took a deep breath. 

‘The B.’

We stared in each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity. Until suddenly she came to life, smiling at me brightly. ‘Well, that’s wonderful!’ and suddenly we were hugging and she refilled my wine glass and we said cheers again. Then she looked at me thoughtfully again. ‘Is there someone you like? A girl?’

I nodded. ‘There is. But I’m not ready to talk about it. It’s complicated.’

Mum reached out and stroked my ear. ‘That's okay, darling. All in your own time. Have you spoken to Bingo about it?’

I shook my head. ‘No. It's…complicated.’

And just when I thought maybe she had pieced it together, her response surprised me.  

‘Maybe you'll feel better if you tell her,’ she said softly. ‘You know she won't care if you like girls. She’s a smart cookie. Deep down, she probably already knows.’

I tried to shake off the unease about everything I’m still keeping from my mum. I’ll tell her in time. For now, I'm just happy that she knows I’m bi. When I thanked her for being so lovely about it. She seemed surprised. 

‘And why wouldn’t I be?’ she asked. ‘This is something to be celebrated. I always knew you had a big heart. And this just proves it.’ I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt. 

That was the moment Leo came bounding down the stairs, no doubt to raid the fridge for leftovers. He stopped at the couch and ruffled my neatly combed hair in that annoying way he does. He asked what we were talking about, and I figured I should tell brother dearest the news too.

‘I was just telling Mum that I’m bisexual,’ I said, trying to be as casual and matter-of-fact as possible. 

Leo didn’t seem bothered at all. ‘Good on ya, sis! You know what they say about bisexuals, right?’

When I shook my head he kind of did this little finger gun gesture. ‘Double attraction, double the action!’ he declared. 

‘What’s double of nothing, Leo?’ I shot back, rolling my eyes. Maths isn’t my brother’s strong point so he pondered this question for an embarrassingly long time (as in, embarrassing for him).

Then the next thing he said absolutely floored me. ‘So, does this mean you and Bingo are finally gonna get it together?’

Mum just laughed and gave Leo’s arm a playful whack. I laughed along too, while secretly wanting the ground to swallow me up. 

But it’s okay, because they know. Merry Christmas to the real me. 

Sunday January 10

12.50pm. The kitchen.

Whoops, it's now the new year! I got a bit busy the last few days at home, doing the rounds and visiting some of the wider family. Was kind of hoping Dad would be in town for a bit so I could catch up with him, but he didn't make it down this Christmas. I can't say I wasn't disappointed, but what are you gonna do?

Someone I did manage to see was Missy. She was busy too so we were only able to catch up for coffee, but it was good to see her. I don't think she has any plans to move away from Sydney in a hurry, so we talked about me flying out to visit her one weekend while I'm still in Melbourne. 

Of course we talked about Bingo. I did my best to stay neutral and nonchalant, but it proved hard when Missy brought up the subject of Bingo's love life. 

She leaned in, eyes alight with the promise of gossip. ‘So, is she seeing anyone?’  

I shrugged, and reminded her that Bingo's never exactly been open about that kind of stuff.  

‘She seems pretty tight with that basenji chick from the Halloween photo. Do you think they're hooking up?’ 

I must've looked horrified at the suggestion, as she quickly changed the subject. Unfortunately for me, she jumped from Bingo's love life to my love life, asking me if there's anyone I'm crushing on. I choked on my lemon cake. Once I recovered I told some white lie about my brief flirtation with Rollo, before showing her a few photos. She gave an appreciative whistle, but lost interest when I said we're just friends. 

I really hate keeping secrets from her. 

1.05pm. 

I can't believe I forgot to mention. Bingo left London for Paris last week. Well, not just Bingo, but her three friends too (including Vixen, which as you can imagine I'm thrilled about. Not).

The pictures on Vixen's social media have made me insanely jealous. My only comfort is the two postcards that arrived in quick succession. One of them was written on the Eurostar, and had some cute doodles that I can't stop staring at. When I finally bundled it up with the rest of the postcards, I noticed that I now have so many that my nightstand drawer keeps jamming. 

Saturday 23 January 

9am. The quad.

Fizz messaged me last night to invite me for an impromptu film night in her dorm. Now, being in her dorm still brings up hazy memories of tequila night, but I pushed that aside and walked in with snacks in hand. Mum had just sent me a few packets of pistachio cannoli and I figured it would be rude not to share, as the girls love them. 

As soon as I saw Izzy I knew what had happened. Her face was puffy, her glass was full to the brim with rosé and she had a bowl of ice cream in her lap. 

‘The idiot was cheating on me,’ she spat out bitterly. 

‘I hate to say it love, but Olly was an absolute cretin,’ Fizz said, filling up a wine glass for me. ‘Lila agrees with me!’ 

‘He’s a troglodita’ I concurred, handing a cannoli to Fizz. When the pair stared at me blankly, I took it upon myself to teach them a few choice Italian insults. Which is how I had two tipsy shih tzus yelling ‘testa di cazzo’ out the window at the top of their lungs. I really hope there are no Italians in our building.

Once they'd got it out of their systems, Izzy sank back down onto Fizz’s bed. ‘Anyway, I’m sick of thinking about him. Come on, someone tell me something good. Something that makes me believe in love again!’ Izzy looked at her best friend, who simply shrugged. Then she turned her attention to me. ‘Lila! How’s your love life?’ she demanded. Two pairs of eyes stared intently at me. 

I was about to give my standard response, about how there’s nothing going on, and how I don’t really have a love life to speak of. But then I thought about the postcards. The phone calls. The messages that are probably completely platonic but sometimes kinda feel like flirting… 

‘There might be someone…’ I said, feeling my heart rate speed up. 

Fizz looked up with interest. ‘Ooh… boy or girl?’

I was shocked at how casually she said it, like she was asking me if I preferred sweet or savoury (answer: both). I managed to recover as both dogs looked at me expectantly. ‘Girl,’ I said quietly. ‘But how did you know I’m bi?’

Now it was Izzy’s turn to look confused. ‘Uh babe, we’ve known you like girls since week 1.’

‘Wait…how?’ I asked. I wondered if my bisexuality was really that obvious. 

‘Do you remember that night when you and Rollo did all those tequila shots?’ Fizz asked, grabbing another cannoli. 

I winced. It's a night that I’d rather forget. In fact, it’s a night that I barely remember. The last thing I recall was vomiting out of Fizz’s first-floor window. The rest is a huge black hole in my memory and I hate it. I still haven’t quite forgiven Rollo for persuading me that tequila slammers would be “fun.”

‘Well,’ Izzy began, smiling at the memory, ‘you were pretty pissed, so Fizz and I took you back to your room. And then you started telling us about this girl you fooled around with by a waterfall, or something?’

‘A creek,’ I corrected, feeling an icy shot of panic. ‘So, I told you about Bingo?’

Izzy’s eyes widened. ‘Wait… that was Bingo? As in, your best friend from home Bingo?’

I nodded. 

Fizz seemed to contemplate something for a moment. ‘So…Bingo is the one you’re hung up on, right?’

I nodded again. 

‘She’s the reason things didn't work out with Rollo?’ Izzy added.

I nodded yet again. By this point I was starting to feel like a nodding dog.

On one hand I still felt pretty vulnerable. And yet, it felt a relief to have it (sort of) out in the open. While Rollo is a good listener to an extent, there’s something different about talking it through with another girl. Which is how I came to explain my current predicament to them both. Y’know, how the girl I love is now on the opposite side of the world. That predicament.

Izzy looked thoughtful for a moment, like she was solving a quadratic equation in her head. ‘What’s your plan for when you finish your course?’ she asked. 

When I started explaining how I want to work in biomaterials, she held her hand up to signal me to stop. ‘No, I mean, your plan for getting your girl?’

‘There is no plan,’ I confessed. Truth be told, my only plans involve going home and taking a long soak in my mum’s tub. I haven’t even thought about what will happen when Bingo gets home. I’ve been a little afraid to think about it, if I'm honest. A little afraid to hope. 

‘Have you thought about joining her?’ Fizz asked, as if flying out to Europe on a whim is the most natural thing ever. 

I’d be lying if I said I’d never considered it. Of course I’ve fantasised about being out there with her, seeing the world for myself rather than just through her photographs and postcards. I explained that there’s no point. I’m stuck here until the end of March, and by then Bingo will probably be flying home anyway. 

‘Are you really stuck here though?’ Izzy asked. ‘You don’t have exams, right? Your course is mainly project based like ours,’ she stated. When I looked at her blankly, she added. ‘So… you're a total nerd. Can’t you submit early?’

8.25pm. My room.

I relayed my conversation with the girls to Rollo while we were cooking dinner. I was expecting him to just laugh and tell me to dream on. But he didn't. 

‘Izzy’s got a point there,’ he said, smiling as he sautéed. ‘I guess once you’ve done all the practical assignments, there’s nothing physically keeping you in Melbourne.’ 

The fact that he didn’t immediately dismiss the suggestion like I expected him to sent my brain whirring. I imagined hopping on a plane and surprising her out of the blue. Getting to hug her again. Getting to be with her again. Getting to kiss her again…

I realised things were getting out of hand when Rollo snapped his fingers right in my face. ‘Earth to Lila!’ he practically shouted.

‘It’s a stupid idea. I don’t know why I’m even contemplating it.’ I turned back to my veg prep, eager to drop the subject before I said something else silly.

‘But you are contemplating it?’ Rollo questioned. 

My cheeks were hot. I felt sick. Like, the kind of sick you feel when you realise you're about to do something big and scary. 

‘Yes, I'm contemplating it,’ I said. 

‘Good,’ said Rollo. And he turned back to his cooking. ‘Do you think I should save a portion for Izzy?’

8.40pm.

I'm crazy for even contemplating it. Flying halfway across the world to confess your feelings for someone sounds like the plot of one of those cheesy romantic comedies Missy loves to watch.

And what would I even do if Bingo turned me down? Just awkwardly tag along for a few weeks and hope it all blows over?

8.42pm.

I just need someone to tell me that this is a terrible idea so I can forget about it and move on.

Thursday 28 January

9.20pm. My room.

I couldn’t forget about it. I’ve been looking at the timetable, and reading up on university guidelines. As I took extra credit modules in my first semester, I’ve worked out that once I submit my dissertation I’ll have earned enough credits to graduate. Potentially even to get a distinction. If I work my bum off between now and the end of February, I could in theory finish four weeks earlier than planned.

At the same time I’ve been looking at flights, and exploring the logistics of it all. And Rollo has been helping, because he’s an engineer too and us engineers love a problem to solve. 

I thought of all the stuff in my dorm room. If I want to go to Europe I can’t exactly take that all with me, can I? ‘You could put it into storage here in Melbourne. Or arrange a cross-country removals company to send it all back to Queensland,’ Rollo suggested. Weirdly, with his help it’s all seeming like something that is actually feasible. 

That is, except for one minor issue. Money. Rollo had a solution for this too. And it wasn’t one I particularly liked.

‘Hey, isn’t your old man loaded? Couldn’t you ask him for some dollarbucks?’     

Ahh yes, Dad. I'm not exactly on the best terms with my father. I don't want to come off ungrateful as he is bankrolling my master's, but aside from the financial support he doesn't really offer me, well, any of the other kinds of support. A lot of the time I get the impression that throwing money at me and Leo is his way of easing his guilt for walking out on us. But his involvement in our lives has been on a steady decline for a while now. It doesn't help that Leo doesn't want a relationship with Dad. But I still do, I guess because I'm four years older and I remember having him around. 

Anyway, today is not about trauma dumping about my daddy issues; it's about finding a way to get myself to Europe so I can woo my BFF. Rollo is also a child of divorce, so threw a few tips and tricks my way to get money out of Dad. These include:

• Guilt tripping him (a classic)
• Asking for an early graduation gift (could work but I feel icky about it)
• Saying Mum wouldn't let me go to Europe (risky, as he might call her)
• Telling him I want to stay with him when I graduate so he'll give me money not to come to Sydney (sad but this might be my best option)

It's kind of sad that my best bet to fund my trip to Europe is to capitalise on my dad's indifference towards me. But I don't really have the time nor the energy to think about that right now. 

I've got a dissertation to finish.

Saturday 6 February

8.20pm. Library. 

Taking a break from dissertation writing. My eyes are stinging and I've currently got some disgusting green energy drink on the go. Bingo used to drink a lot of these during our undergrad finals, so the smell of them has this sort of Pavlovian effect on me. The moment I open the can and get that first sniff of whatever they put into these drinks (rocket fuel?) I get this déjà vu like she's here with me. She's not, because she's in Belgium right now, but for a fleeting millisecond my temporal lobe plays that trick on me. 

My friends have been nothing short of amazing. Of course I couldn't do any of this madness without their support. 

‘This is arguably the gayest and most insane thing I've ever heard’ was what Penny said when I finally told her. But she's been her usual supportive self, doing daily welfare checks to remind me to rest and not overdo it. She reminded me that I'll be no use to anybody if I burn out before my flight to… wherever it is that Bingo will be by the time I'm ready to join her. 

Fizz is dropping by soon to bring me some food. Rollo is typically the one who feeds me but he's also been a little busy lately. There's also a party happening tonight, hence why I'm working in the library and not my dorm. While I'm not the biggest fan of parties, the lure of all my favourite dogs in one place would be too big a distraction. 

Wednesday 10 February

9.40pm. My room. 

It's been tough, I'm not going to lie. 

As supportive as my friends are being, I'm having huge stretches of time where it's just me and my laptop. My lab work is mostly done now but I still need to pop in from time-to-time, and I've taken to working there after hours as it's quiet. Luckily my favourite lecturer sorted me out with a pass. She admires my diligence. I haven't had the heart to break it to her that my insane work ethicq isn't motivated by a love of biomedical engineering but rather love for another girl. 

That's not to say I don't love biomedical engineering. I don't think I could get through these insanely long days if I didn't. But right now Bingo has pretty much colonised my brain. 

Sunday 14 February

8am. The quad. 

Just got a text from Bingo. It's still Saturday evening where she is, but she messaged to wish me a happy galentine's day. This time last year we spent the whole Saturday together, determined to make the most of the time we had left until my flight to Melbourne. I remember thinking at the time that I couldn't imagine having a lovelier Valentine's day with anyone else. 

I had no idea. 

8.05am

Rollo dragged me to the gym on Friday. I’ll admit that my exercise habits have been less than ideal lately, and he said that moving my body was important for some boring reasons I can't remember. 

I haven't seen as much of him lately, and I realised as we walked to the gym that I'd actually missed him. I asked him what's new and he looked a little shifty, like he wanted to tell me something but was holding back. I decided not to push it. 

As we set up to use the cable machine he asked how things were going with Bingo. I didn't know how to answer. We've only managed to FaceyTalk once since she left London to travel around Europe. Often she's too busy or I'm too tired or timezones simply don't align. The distance feels more acute, as do the feelings of irrational jealousy. And I'm ashamed to say that sometimes I let the intrusive thoughts get the better of me.

‘What if she does a Bluey?’ I found myself asking him.

‘What’s a Bluey?’ he grunted, as he pumped out a set of lateral raises.

I explained all about Bingo's sister. How she too went travelling after uni, determined to see the world before settling down in Brisbane. I told him how she fell for this hunky black lab on the final leg of her journey and now lives in Québec with him.

He looked back at me perplexed. ‘So?’ 

‘What do you mean, ‘so’?’ I shot back. ‘What if Bingo meets some cool continental dog? Or some elegant erudite British girl who doesn't snort when she laughs? What if they fall in love and set up a smallholding in rural Hertfordshire and they get pet ducks and beehives and sell their own honey at farmers markets and…’ I trailed off as I noticed him staring back at me. 

‘Your brain is a scary place,’ he muttered. 

Friday 19 February

1.30pm. Lecture hall. 

That's it. All my lectures are done. I can't believe it. The idea is that everyone will have around 5 weeks to finish up their lab work, write up their findings and submit. I say ‘everyone’, but for me it's more like 10 days if I want to stick with my plan. 

My gang is a little jealous that I'm a little further ahead than they are, but it's come at a cost as I'm battling a cold right now. So while everyone is heading to the pub to celebrate, I'm making my way back to the dorms to sleep. 

2.05pm. My room.

Got back to another postcard waiting for me. This one is from Dresden, which is where Bingo stayed just over a week ago. In her accompanying message Bingo she quoted Cogsworth from ‘Beauty and the beast’ in reference to the city's architecture: “If it's not baroque, don't fix it.” 

This might be the cold and flu medicine talking, but I love her. I love her so much. 

Tuesday 23 February. 

8.25pm. My room.

I'm insanely close to finishing. I'm writing the discussion of my dissertation, the part that basically ties everything together. At the rate I'm going I could submit on Friday. 

Still, aside from asking my Dad for money and putting some belongings into storage boxes, I haven't made any progress on actually booking my trip. I haven't bought any travel items, and I don't even have a backpack. 

8.30pm.

Just in case you're curious, diary (probably not), my call with Dad was far easier than expected. When I told him I'm on track for a distinction he asked outright what I want for a graduation gift. It was one of those rare occasions when I'm grateful to have an emotionally disconnected parent who has a tendency to pay his way out of trouble (he's already told me he's pretty sure he won't make the graduation even though I don't know when it is yet). 

This means I have the money for flights sitting in my bank account right now. Bingo is leaving Germany tomorrow and she's making a stop in Innsbruck before heading to… Italy. 

This means that after nearly a year apart, I could finally be reuniting with her in my family’s country of origin. It feels like the stars are aligning. 

So, why can't I book that plane ticket? I think I'm gonna drop in on Rollo for a pep talk. 

8.35pm. 

Or not… because I'm pretty sure he has a girl in there with him.

Wednesday 24 February

8.20am. The quad.

With lectures over I suggested to Rollo that we do write-up sessions over breakfast. The last two days he's slept in. Or at least that's what he told me. But after what I heard last night I'm wondering if there's a different reason he's yet to join me. 

I've been mentally dissecting our conversations, looking for clues or any sort of hint as to who his new girl is. As far as I'm aware, Rollo has only been on a few dates since everything that happened with Cleo a few month's back. But lately he's been pretty busy with his studies. Exactly how he has found the time for romance is a mystery to me.

8.42am.

Fizz just stopped by on her way to her class and put a banana on the bench. A not-so-subtle hint for me to eat. Izzy wasn't with her because she's sick. Hoping I haven't somehow given her my cold.

Friday 26 February

5.30pm. The kitchen. 

Guess who's submitted her dissertation? It's me, baby. I DID IT!!

So, I pulled a few all-nighters (which, as an early bird, was excruciating), spent hours and days pulling out my fur and doubting everything, but it's done. Each of my friends took a section to proofread for me, cos by the end I was slightly delirious with exhaustion. But it's done. Did I say that already?!

Rollo's just plonked me at the kitchen table with a glass of wine and popped to the shops with Izzy. They're picking up ingredients for us to make bolognese. The real deal. 

In a way, it really feels like I’ve come full circle. 

6.05pm. 

They're taking forever. 

10.46pm. My room. 

So I had a mini heart attack earlier. While Izzy and I were chopping celery and carrots my phone started ringing. The caller ID said it was the department of bioengineering. I grabbed my phone and ran to the hallway to answer it. 

It was Professor Papillon. ‘Is this Lila Maltese?’ she asked, her tone impossible to read. 

Dread swirled through me. Had the prof started reading my submission, and been so disappointed with my efforts that she wanted to kick me off the course? Had I somehow accidentally plagiarised? Was I under investigation?

I squeaked out my yes, convinced my academic career was about to be over. 

‘Hi Lila. I just noticed that you've submitted a large file to the portal. Did you mean to do that?’

I told her that it was no accident, explaining that I'd finished early. There was silence on the line. 

‘So, just to be clear, you're submitting nearly 4 weeks ahead of the deadline?’ 

My heart rate gradually slowed down as I reassured her it was all there and all completed. 

‘You do realise that we're taking your submission as final, right? You won't be able to amend and re-submit. Do you still want to go ahead?’

I wavered, wondering if I was harming my future by not giving myself those extra few weeks to fine tune my write up. But then I thought of everything I've poured into it. I'm proud of what I submitted. Besides, it's not just a culmination of my own hard work. I couldn't have done it without my friends keeping me fed, hydrated and (sort of) sane. These dogs who I’d never even met a year ago, who have accepted me for exactly who I am. 

‘Yes, I want to go ahead and submit,’ I confirmed. I held my breath. 

‘Congratulations Miss Maltese. I look forward to reading it. Au revoir.’ 

11.02pm. 

Apparently I'm the only student in course history to ever submit ahead of the deadline. 

Oh, the things I do for love. 

Saturday 27 February

8.20am. My room.

It was surreal to wake up this morning and not be consumed with thoughts about my final project. I have a few short assignments to complete but it's nothing to the 30,000-word behemoth I've just submitted. But for today, I made it my mission to rest. I've had some brekkie and started half heartedly packing a few things into boxes. Rollo and I aren't taking them to the storage unit until Tuesday so I've got time. Of course, what I should be doing is finalising my travel to Italy. But to do that I need to find out where Bingo will be staying as that will determine which airport I fly into. As there's no way of asking Bingo without her getting suspicious, I'll need to do the next best thing and ask her sister. 

8.25am. 

Okay, Bluey will definitely be suspicious. 

1.50pm. Campus coffee shop. 

In the end, I just bit the bullet and sent Bluey a message. I asked if she happened to have a copy of Bingo's itinerary for the next week or so. 

I wasn't expecting a reply right away as it's like the middle of the night in Montréal. I certainly wasn't expecting a phone call. 

When ‘Big Bingo’ flashed up on my caller ID, I found myself panicking over my second phone in less than 24 hours. I scrambled to answer it

‘Lila Snowdrop Maltese,’ Bluey hissed, as if struggling to use her inside voice. I assumed she was beside a sleeping Jean-Luc or something. ‘Are you about to do what I think you're about to do?’

It's hard to know how to react when your best friend's sis drops your middle name. I swallowed nervously. ‘Maybe. But you can't tell her. I want it to be a surprise.’

There was an agonising moment of silence. And then, a squeal. 

‘Ohmydogohmydogohmydog…’ Bluey responded, and I couldn't figure out if she was happy or furious. ‘You wanna know where my sister is staying so you can fly out and surprise her! Does this mean… are you and Bingo in...wait, no it's none of your business Bluey, stay calm…’ 

At this point Bluey seemed to be having a full-blown conversation with herself, and I wasn't sure if I should intervene. But when she finally paused I bit the bullet. ‘There’s something I need to tell her,’ I confessed. ‘Something important. And I need to tell her in person.’ 

Cue another high-pitched squeak. I think this one perforated my eardrum. 

‘Leave it with me, Lils,’ Bluey announced confidently, once she had finally calmed down. So, Bluey's going to message Bingo and ask for a list of the places she's staying in the next two weeks, along with arrival/departure dates so I can explore flight options. Bluey's gonna say to Bingo that she wants to follow along with her journey, and help research pizzerias and stuff. 

‘Please be subtle,’ I pleaded, while knowing that Bluey is about as subtle as a reversing dump truck. 

As we were winding up the call, it struck me that I could just ask Bluey how her little sister feels about me. Just so I know the likelihood of getting my heart broken out there (not that it would stop me). But I didn't want to put Bluey in that awkward position. I tried to ask it in a less direct way. 

‘So… Do you think it's a good idea, me flying out for Bingo?’ I asked, heart in my mouth.

Bluey chuckled sweetly, and I realised that Bingo isn't the only Heeler sister I miss. 

‘Lila… I think it's a really good idea.’

Wednesday 3 March

1.30pm. Melbourne Airport Terminal 2 departures

You know that feeling when you're about to do something so wild that you think you're gonna vomit? 

Well, that's me right now. I'm sitting here with an overpriced coffee and muffin that I'm pretty sure I'm not gonna touch. It's not the flight that scares me, or being alone, or the thoughts of what will happen when I see her. 

It's all those things and more. 

I'm also feeling heart sick. Like I could burst into tears at any moment. Because as excited as I am to go to Italy, I'm really, really sad about saying goodbye to Melbourne. 

When I first got here all my thoughts were on taking the course, and all the opportunities it would give me in my career. But I've gotten so much more out of it than expected. Life-changing moments of self-discovery aside, I've made the most incredible friends.

They held a little farewell party for me last night. Super low key, just a meal and drinks back at the dorms. I was a little self-conscious at first, but then I embraced it and let them hug me and say lovely things about me. I cried, of course, and went to bed exhausted and emotional. 

My last farewell was this morning. Rollo came by to lend me a few supplies from his travelling days. He's already gifted me his backpack. It's practically half my height, so he lifted it into my back for me. I'm a little nervous at how I'll cope when I'm jet lagged and travel weary. 

He sat on my bare mattress, laughing as I adjusted the various straps and fastenings. But then he stopped laughing, and just… looked at me. 

‘Okay, you're beginning to creep me out,’ I confessed. ‘What’s up?’

He laughed again. Not quite the big, booming laugh he does when he's out with friends. It was calmer, more gentle. ‘Y’know, you're a neurotic, bisexual disaster who uses far too many cleaning products. But meeting you has been the highlight of my year.’ 

I was absolutely stunned. I think for a moment I just stood there playing with one of the carabiners. ‘I don't think Izzy would be too thrilled to hear that,’ I joked. 

His eyes bugged out and his ears pricked up simultaneously. ‘What?’ 

‘I know you two are seeing each other,’ I smiled. I was totally bluffing, but the look on his face told me my suspicions were correct. ‘I’m so happy for you, Rollo. You deserve this.’ I assured him. 

And then, he got to his feet and hugged me, wrapping those big beefy arms around me, ridiculous backpack and all. I felt the tears spring up, and wondered fleetingly if they would seep into his chest fur. 

He released me and I tumbled back, a little unsteady on my feet. 

‘So, if Bingo becomes your girlfriend,’ he asked, shooting me a cheeky smile, ‘does that mean the best friend position will be vacant?’

I laughed. ‘Perhaps. File an application and I’ll take it into consideration.’

We hugged one last time. And then he walked me out of my dorm, and into the next chapter of my life.