One True Thing by Nicole Hayes

the photos. And then I’m free, and Harry is calling for Mum to meet someone who is ‘about to change the face of Victoria’ – a promise Harry’s made fourtimes today about four different people – and I find Kessie outside the VIP tent, looking pleased with herself.
    â€˜What?’
    Kessie offers me that wide-eyed smile, holding her hands out, palms up. ‘What do you mean? I’m just enjoying this glorious day.’
    â€˜Yeah. Whatever.’
    â€˜So, all done with the paparazzi?’
    I sigh. ‘I hope so. My make-up’s gone all vampire on me, and it’s possible that every time the wind blows you can see my bra. It’s not even my good one.’
    â€˜You look gorgeous,’ Kessie says, but I know she’s making fun of me. For years I avoided all this stuff, always complaining whenever I had to help out for even the tiniest public event. I guess I’m complaining less now. And cooperating more.
    â€˜Once Mum’s elected, I can go back to teenage obscurity.’
    â€˜Yeah, right,’ Kessie says, the lightness gone from her voice.
    â€˜What? I will. They don’t care about me. It’s all about Yummy Mummy. And Dad, a bit – but Luke and I are just window dressing.’ Harry actually called us that once, which really pissed Mum off.
    â€˜I don’t know. That’s not what Jake seems to think.’
    I feel the heat rise to my cheeks just at the mention of Jake D’Angelo, but I manage a fairly convincing shrugand look around for something to eat. ‘Where’s the real food?’
    Kessie waves a hand in the direction of the makeshift kitchen. ‘We can hang around there, make sure you don’t miss out.’
    I need to eat but I’m also really keen to avoid further conversation about Jake. I blew him off for our planned interview last week, and Kessie will be furious if I don’t sort something out soon.
    I find a good spot just a few metres from the servery. A waiter with a platter of sushi passes us on his way back inside. Most are vegetarian – we’re in the hipster northern suburbs, after all – so I pick a raw tuna one, buried amid the avocado and cucumber, even though what I really want is something cooked.
    Kessie is close on my heels. ‘So, Jake, hey?’ she says.
    I swallow my mouthful of sushi and scan the room for more food. A waitress with drinks comes past, and I take a glass of orange juice, thanking her before she moves on. Slowly, I turn back to Kessie. ‘Is that supposed to be a question?’
    Kessie smiles like she’s won something. ‘I knew it!’
    â€˜You knew what?’ I ask. I’m holding the glass between us like a sword.
    â€˜God! I know you so well!’ She’s positively gloating.
    â€˜You don’t,’ I say weakly.
    â€˜You like him. Admit it!’
    I’m blushing now, and hating myself for it. I suddenly feel light-headed and there’s a lump in my stomach the size of Uluru. Every time the subject of Jake D’Angelo comes up, I find myself flushed and jittery and generally acting like a moron. ‘I don’t even know him!’
    Kessie grins. ‘You know we’re friends, right?’
    I shake my head. ‘Wait – what was your name again?’
    â€˜ Hi -larious. I meant Jake and me.’
    â€˜So?’
    â€˜He lives around the corner. His dad’s all friendly with mine, and they’ve been over to our house a bit. Actually, Jake rather than his dad. His dad’s not home much.’ I watch as she licks the last sticky remnants of her now-deconstructed California roll from her fingers, mayonnaise shining on her lips.
    I hand her my scrunched-up serviette. ‘Manners!’ I say Yummy Mummy style.
    She ignores this but takes the napkin. ‘Jake surfs,’ she continues. ‘That’s about all it takes for my dad.’
    â€˜I’ve noticed.’ When our dads first