Matilda sat on the porch of Uncle Ben's house, her legs dangling over the edge. The wood felt rough under her hands, worn from years of use. She wiggled her toes, feeling the cool night air on her skin.
The night was calm, and the breeze brushed against her face, light and gentle. Crickets chirped all around, their sound loud but kind of soothing, like a song that never stopped. It filled the quiet, making the world feel alive even in the dark.
Above her, the sky was full of stars, more than she could ever count. They twinkled and glowed, spread out like someone had spilled a bag of shiny beads across a big black blanket.
Back in Sydney, the city lights always hid them. The streetlamps and tall buildings made it hard to see anything but a few faint dots. Here in Wattle Creek, though, the stars were bright and bold, each one clear as a tiny lightbulb.
Matilda pulled her knees up close to her chest, wrapping her arms tight around them. Her shorts were still smeared with dirt, and her shirt had a few grass stains. She didn't care much.
She was still muddy from the kangaroo chase earlier that day. Her sneakers sat by the door, caked in dry dirt. She hadn't bothered to shower yet. The idea of standing under hot water felt like too much work.
Her body was tired, her legs a little sore from running. The day had been weird, chasing that kangaroo with Jack. It was such a silly thing to do, but it made her laugh, a real laugh that came from deep inside. She hadn't laughed like that in a long time, not since she got to Wattle Creek.
Back home in Sydney, she laughed with her friends all the time—over dumb jokes or funny videos on their phones. Here, everything felt heavier, like the air was thicker somehow.
Matilda didn't laugh much since she arrived. She didn't want to be here, stuck in this small town with nothing but fields and animals. She missed her room, her music, her life. Jack was part of why she didn't like it at first.
He teased her too much, calling her "city girl" with that annoying grin. She still didn't like him—not really. He could be such a pest, always acting like he knew everything about this place. But today, when they were running after that kangaroo, he wasn't as bad.
Maybe he was okay sometimes, just a little. She shook her head fast, her ponytail swinging. No way was she going to start liking him. He was just a loud country boy who thought he was funny.
Uncle Ben stepped out onto the porch, his boots making the floorboards creak. He held two mugs, one in each hand, steam curling up from them.
"Tea," he said, his voice gruff but kind.
He handed one to her, and she took it carefully. The mug was warm, almost too hot, but it felt nice against her fingers. She curled her hands around it, letting the heat sink into her skin.
The tea smelled sweet, like honey and something soft, maybe flowers. She brought it to her lips and sipped it slowly. The warmth spread through her chest, cozy and comforting.
"Thanks," she said, her voice quiet.
She kept her eyes on the mug, watching the steam float away. She didn't look at Uncle Ben. Part of her was still mad about being here. Her parents sent her to Wattle Creek, and she didn't get a say in it.
She felt like they didn't want her around, like she was a problem they needed to get rid of. Even though today wasn't the worst, the anger sat in her stomach, heavy like a stone.
"You're filthy," Uncle Ben said, sitting down next to her. The porch groaned a little under his weight. "What happened to you today?" His voice was curious, not scolding.
"We chased a kangaroo," Matilda said, her lips twitching into a small smile as she remembered. "It stole Jack's sandwich right out of his hands. Just grabbed it and hopped away."
She could still see Jack's face, all shocked and red, before he started laughing and running after it.
Uncle Ben let out a big laugh, rough and loud, like it came from his belly. "That's a funny one. Jack's always finding trouble, that boy. Always has, ever since he was little."
"He's the trouble," Matilda said, taking another sip of her tea. The sweet taste spread over her tongue, and she decided she liked it more than she thought she would. "He's always messing around, saying dumb stuff."
"Do you two get along at all?" Uncle Ben asked, tilting his head to look at her. His eyes were kind, but she didn't want to answer too much.
"No," she said quickly, maybe too quickly. "He's a jerk most of the time. Always teasing me. But we didn't fight too much today, so that's something, I guess."
"That's something," Uncle Ben said, nodding slow. He leaned back, stretching his long legs out in front of him. His boots were dusty, like always. He looked up at the stars, his face calm. "You and Jack will figure it out, I reckon. You're both good kids."
Matilda didn't say anything. She didn't want to figure anything out with Jack. She just wanted to finish that dumb wombat statue they were working on in the barn and stay out of his way.
It was a school project, and she didn't have a choice but to work with him. Still, her mind wandered back to earlier, when she slipped and fell into that muddy ditch.
Jack grabbed her hand and pulled her out, his grip strong and warm. He didn't laugh at her too much, just a little, and his eyes were soft for a second. She pushed the thought away fast. That was a dumb thing to think about. Jack was still Jack.
Uncle Ben stood up, brushing his hands on his pants. The sound was loud in the quiet night.
"I'm off to bed now," he said. "Don't stay out here too late, alright? Gets chilly."
He walked back inside, and the door creaked shut behind him, leaving her alone again.
Matilda sipped her tea, the mug still warm in her hands. She stared up at the sky, the stars glowing brighter now. The quiet was nice, just the crickets singing their endless song.
It wasn't like Sydney, where cars honked and music blared from every corner. Back home, the noise never stopped. Here, it was peaceful, even if she didn't want to admit it.
Then she heard footsteps crunching on the dirt path. Her head turned, and she squinted into the dark. Jack was walking up, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets.
He had a jacket on now, dark and a little too big for him. His cap was gone, and his hair was all messy, sticking out every which way. Matilda's stomach did a tiny flip, and she frowned at herself.
Why was he here? Why did her heart feel funny?
"Hey," Jack said, stopping a few steps from the porch. His voice was soft, not loud like usual. "I saw your light on from down the road."
"What do you want?" Matilda asked, her tone sharp. She didn't move from her spot, her legs still hanging over the edge.
"I forgot my hammer at the barn," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Thought I'd grab it tomorrow, but I was walking by anyway." He kicked at a pebble with his boot. "You okay after falling in that ditch?"
"I'm fine," she said, brushing some dried mud off her knee. "Just muddy, that's all. No big deal."
"You look muddy," Jack said, a grin spreading across his face.
Matilda shot him a hard look, her eyes narrowing, but he just climbed the porch steps anyway.
"Can I sit here with you?" he asked, pointing to the spot next to her.
"It's not my house," she said, her voice flat.
He sat down anyway, leaving a little space between them. She didn't tell him to leave. She wasn't sure why she didn't. Part of her wanted to, but another part was curious. What did he want to talk about?
They sat there, not saying anything for a while. The stars seemed to shine even brighter, like they were putting on a show just for them. Jack leaned back on his hands, stretching his legs out.
"It's a nice night, isn't it?" he said, his voice easy.
"Yeah," Matilda said, nodding a little. She finished her tea and set the mug down beside her with a soft clink. "So why did you really come here?" she asked, glancing at him.
Jack turned his head, his eyes meeting hers for a second. "I don't know," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "I just felt like it, I guess. You're not as bad as I thought, city girl."
"You're still a jerk," Matilda said, but her voice wasn't mean.
It came out softer than she meant it to. Jack laughed, a quiet chuckle that didn't feel like he was making fun of her.
"That's fair," he said, looking back up at the sky. "I like it out here, you know. It's quiet. Makes me think about things, stuff I don't usually talk about."
"What kind of things?" she asked, her voice curious now. She didn't know why she cared, but she wanted to hear more.
"Just stuff," Jack said, his voice low. "Like leaving this place someday. I want to surf, go to the coast. Be free from all this." He waved a hand at the fields around them, dark and endless in the night.
Matilda stared at him, her eyebrows going up. "You don't like Wattle Creek?" she asked.
She always thought he loved it here. He seemed so comfortable, always joking around, fixing things with his tools, wearing those muddy boots like they were part of him.
"It's alright," he said, shrugging again. "But it's small. Same people every day, same sheep, same boring stuff. I want something bigger, something new." He paused, then smiled a little. "I want to surf. Ride big waves, feel the sun on my face, no sheep anywhere."
"Why do you want to surf?" she asked, tilting her head. It seemed like such a random dream for a boy who lived in the middle of nowhere.
"I don't know," Jack said, scratching his head again. "I saw it on TV once when I was little. The waves were huge, and the people looked so free, just gliding on the water. It looked fun. No fences, no chores, just the ocean." His voice got quieter, like he was seeing it in his mind.
Matilda didn't know what to say. She hated Wattle Creek, thought it was the worst place to be stuck.
But hearing Jack talk like this, she realized he felt trapped too, in his own way. He didn't seem like just a country boy anymore.
"What about you, Matilda?" he asked, turning to her. "What do you want?"
She hugged her knees tighter, the question making her chest feel heavy. "I don't know," she said slowly, her voice small. "I used to think I knew. Back in Sydney, I had friends, we had fun, life was good. But now I'm here, and I feel all lost, like I don't fit anywhere."
Jack nodded, like he really understood. "Yeah," he said. "I feel that way sometimes too. Like I'm stuck, waiting for something to happen."
They went quiet again, the crickets filling the silence. Matilda hadn't meant to say that out loud.
It just slipped out, like her mouth decided to talk before her brain caught up. She looked up at the stars, so close now she felt like she could touch them.
"I miss home," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
"Home's not gone," Jack said, his voice gentle. "It's still there, waiting for you when you're ready."
"Maybe," Matilda said, but she didn't believe it deep down.
Her parents sent her away. They said it was for her own good, but it felt like they didn't want her. Her throat got tight, and she swallowed hard to push the feeling away.
Jack picked up a small pebble from the porch and tossed it into the yard. It landed with a soft thud in the dirt.
"Have you ever tried surfing?" he asked, changing the subject.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "I'm scared of water."
"Really?" Jack said, turning to her with wide eyes. "You don't seem like you'd be scared of anything."
"I am," Matilda said, her cheeks getting a little warm. "Deep water, anyway. Pools are okay, but the ocean? No way. It's too big, too wild."
"I'll teach you someday," Jack said, his grin coming back. "When I make it to the coast. I'll show you how to ride a wave."
She looked at him, raising one eyebrow. "You're not teaching me anything, Jack," she said, but her voice wasn't as sharp as before.
"We'll see about that," he said, his grin growing wider.
Matilda rolled her eyes, but a tiny smile slipped onto her face. He wasn't so bad right now. Not loud, not teasing her too much. Just sitting there, talking like they were almost friends.
They stayed like that for a while, watching the stars. Matilda's legs started to feel stiff from sitting so long, but she didn't want to move. Jack didn't either.
The crickets kept chirping, and a soft breeze rustled the trees nearby. The air smelled like grass and dirt, clean and fresh. It felt nice, even if she didn't want to say it out loud.
Then Jack stood up, brushing his hands on his jacket. "I gotta go," he said. "My dad will yell if I'm out too late. He's strict about that."
"Okay," Matilda said, her eyes dropping to the porch floor. She didn't look at him as he stepped down the stairs.
"See you tomorrow, city girl," Jack said, his voice light. He walked off into the dark, his footsteps fading away.
Matilda watched him go until she couldn't see him anymore. Her chest felt strange, tight but not in a bad way. She didn't know what that feeling was, and it made her a little nervous.
She picked up her empty mug and stood up, her legs wobbly from sitting so long. The porch creaked under her feet as she walked to the door.
Inside, the house was dark and quiet. Uncle Ben's snores rumbled from his room, loud enough to make her smile a little. She tiptoed to her bedroom, her socks soft against the wooden floor.
Her bed was small, with a quilt that smelled like lavender. She flopped down on it, not bothering to change out of her muddy clothes.
The stars stayed in her mind, bright and big, like they were burned into her eyes. She thought about Jack wanting to surf, picturing him on a beach somewhere, laughing as waves crashed around him.
She thought about what he said, about feeling stuck. She felt that too, and it was weird to know they had that in common. Talking to him made the heavy feeling in her chest a little lighter, like she wasn't carrying it all by herself.
Matilda closed her eyes, the crickets still singing outside her window. Tomorrow, she'd see Jack again at the barn.
They'd work on that wombat statue, probably argue a little, maybe laugh some too. She didn't hate the idea as much as she used to. Maybe he wasn't the worst person in the world.
Maybe Wattle Creek had something good in it, even if it was just a sky full of stars and a silly boy who dreamed of riding waves.
The thought made her smile, just a tiny bit, as she drifted off to sleep. The crickets kept going, their song soft and steady, like a lullaby that wrapped around her heart.