We were sitting around the fire the day that Jimmy disappeared. Everyone remembers where they were and what they were doing. When someone brings him up, they all talk about how hot it was the day he left town. A hot day, but we lit a fire anyway. Under the stars. The cool breeze always came in from the ocean to give us goosebumps. Dave gave me his sleeping bag and huddled up beside me. We weren’t really talking about anything. We all had a bottle in hand, some had cigarettes. The fire was chucking sparks up into the air in front of us, black sky with stars shining above. Someone inhaled a roley or a joint, held their breath and mentioned him on the exhale. Anyone know where he is?

Everyone shrugged and mumbled. Nup. No one. We weren’t worried though. He always had this air about him that he knew what he was doing. Plus he had a dog. His dog was loyal too. Can’t really remember its name. It was a border collie I think. Not that I’m a dog person. It’s funny though, that the thing I think about most is Jimmy’s hair. Not just Jimmy’s hair, but how I’ll never get to touch it again. I ruffled it once as a joke. I was patronising him, teasing him about something. He shrugged me off and told me to shove it. That’s the only time I touched his hair and I’ve never stopped thinking about it. So soft. Scruffy and filled with salt and sand, but soft. Really soft. All I wanted to do for a long time was lie down next time him under the stars, snuggle up to him and feel his soft hair tickle my face. If he’d been there that night maybe I would’ve tried to. Snuggle up next to him. Jimmy. What happened to you?

He wasn’t the first person to disappear out of here either. Many went walkabout, but I dunno if you can call it walkabout when it’s a white man. Jimmy wasn’t a man though, he was just 17. God, I’m talking about it as if it were years ago. It was 6 months yesterday. We had a fire going again and someone mentioned him. Everyone went a little quiet and didn’t know what to say. Dave raised his stubby so everyone followed. It was so strange. What’s the word? Surreal. Yeah, surreal to be saluting someone that we knew so well. Know so well. When do you start using past tense? He was always around. I still hope that one day I’ll get to school and he’ll be at the lockers, or park my car in my driveway to find him at my front porch. Soft hair on top of the smiling face, always the dog at his heel. What happened to you, Jimmy?

Why would he just leave? They put up signs everywhere. There was a Facebook thing too. I shared it. I always wondered if he would secretly log on to see if everyone missed him. I just, I just hope that he ran away himself. That he’s ok. I’d be hurt to know that he left me behind. Even though we were never a thing. I just had a thing for him and I think he had a thing for me too. But then he left. You might be thinking, come on. So you liked his hair. It was soft. Big deal. But it wasn’t just that. The weekend before the night he left, we were all around at Gracie’s. Her dad’s nice like that. He even lets us drink and walk up the hill so we can look out over the ocean. We all walked up that night, and I knew that Dave wanted to cuddle in because he’s just always wanted to cuddle in with me, but I was thinking about Jimmy’s hair.

I kept going over to talk to someone else when Dave got close, which annoyed him. He started to say mean things about me. Slagging me off to everyone, so I hung back. Walking up the hill behind them, slowly. Stopping to look at the stars and just having a bit of a moment to myself, when Jimmy fell back from the group too. We walked in silence, breathing. The hill was steep. And as Dave was telling everyone about ways I’d embarrassed myself and 'did everyone remember last new years...' when I passed out and whatever… I didn't care. And then as we were walking up the hill behind the others, in silence, Jimmy took my hand. Lightly. He didn’t just hold it though, he was feeling it. Exploring my hand. Lightly feeling my fingers and the skin and really taking in what my hands were like.

We didn’t say a word. I just let him hold my hand until we got to the top and someone threw an arm around him leading him off to the guys. No one even noticed that we’d been close. Later on I looked over at Jimmy and he looked back at me. No talking. No smile this time. He was just looking back at me. Pretending to listen to everyone talking shit around us but I knew that all he was thinking about was me. And now he’s gone. Why’d he go? Someone said he was involved in drugs. I dunno about that. But then I could imagine him getting onto a motorbike and driving off into the distance. I suppose I’ll just dream about where he could be until he comes back. I won’t give up. Whenever he comes back, I don’t care when, I’ll be waiting. I’ll run up and scruff up his hair and laugh. And then I’d probably yell at him before crying into his chest. I wonder if he thinks about me. Wherever he is. Jimmy, where are you? Where are you.