It's 10:34 by the time I take the turn-off towards Tuggerah. Once I see the streetlights glowing ahead, and I can leave the darkness of the M1 Freeway behind me, my heart begins to beat faster realising I'm getting closer and closer to meeting with Noah.

This would be our third time meeting. I figured by this point it would get easier. I thought I wouldn't have as many butterflies in my stomach, less feeling of my chest tightening for every time I saw the Westfield sign. But I swear it never dies down the closer I seem to get. Nor does it when Noah and I finally meet up. We both know what were here for. We both know why we're meeting at near 11PM at night, and we both have no shame in it. At least, I don't feel shame as much as I feel nervous.

I pull into the car park, parking away from the shopping centre. I message Noah as I keep the car going, letting him know my position. It almost feels like a mission sometimes, meeting up with people, doing it all undercover, or at least out of sight to the public eye. Never have I been to Noah's house, and neither has he to mine, and we both like it that way. For all I know, he still lives with family. And for all Rosie knows, I just got a little too careless for one night. That much I can agree with, but I can't let her know any more than that.

And as I wait for Noah to message back, I look around the carpark. Dark, empty, open. Nothing but the street lamps for light every six spaces or so, spare for the glowing luminesce of the Westfield sign and the lights shining all over the building, but it's still so dark. So extensive, with the open night sky above, now that the stars have followed me to my next location.

I wonder, as I sit in my car, staring up into the darkness above, where shooting stars come from, and what makes them so valuable that you can wish on them. I've seen a few in my life. Once, I saw more than three laying out on the grass on Kelsey's lawn, talking with her about school and how much we hated it. Funny to think that I still stay in touch with those same people I saw on a daily basis. I would have thought that we would have slowly stopped staying connected, one by one, or even altogether.

Though, that doesn't go without saying that some of those people are long gone. Tamara, Kathie, Amy, Lachlan…Keiran. All seemingly moved on, all possibly out living their best lives, but outside of the little group we managed to keep throughout school.

It still shocks me that I managed to see Riley tonight, of all places. With how many people I had lost touch with throughout school, I would have thought he would have definitely been one of the people I never saw again. But I did, and we laughed and chatted like there was never any time or space between us. It was a nice feeling, all that familiarity. Though Mary, I still didn't know about. Despite Auden pointing out that she went to our school, she still didn't ring a bell. Not her face, not her voice, nor her attitude. She was still a mystery.

My phone dings, displaying a message on the screen. Noah's nickname is attached, and he's arrived.

I look around the car park, not seeing much movement, nor many other cars surrounding the lot. I can't even remember if there were any other cars here when I first pulled in. But then a pair of headlights flash, two rows away, and another message comes through.

Stepping out into the dark night, where the days warm feel still lingers in the air, I push my car door closed. It locks immediately after, and I stand beside my vehicle, looking towards the car that flashed me, hoping that he can see me and not the nervousness coursing through my body.

And he steps out from his own car, a shadow silhouette as he stands in front of the light radiating from one of the street lamps. I can see his motions, as he locks the door, shoves the keys into the pocket of his jeans, and begins to walk over, my heart racing with every step he takes.

He's dressed quite casually tonight. A t-shirt over a pair of jeans, one that's clinging to the muscles and torso like it was wrapped onto his body and melted onto the skin. His hair is a mess, spiking in all different places, and his hand reaches up to try and flatten it the closer he gets. My heart can't calm down. Anxiety is beginning to peak, even as I feel it rise up from the tightness of my chest and spread up my collarbone. The pressure weighs on my chest, as I wonder if I can really do this, all again.

And once he approaches me, he speaks in his very low, slightly accented voice, sending chills through the pressure. "Hey."

A smile then naturally makes its way onto my face, and with more confidence than I had five seconds prior, I purr, "Hey."