The waves rolled gently along the sea, complimenting the orange-blue sunset.  It was a warm August night, perfect for sixteen-year-old Kirsty Sutherland, waiting for her boyfriend Seb.  She'd been dating him for a while now and was finally going to move onto the next stage in the relationship.  She was wearing smart-casual clothes, a blue vest top and cut-off jeans, hair up, not wanting to draw too much attention to herself.  Nerves were beginning to get the better of her now; she wanted to move on, to be more experienced like her sister, to prove that she could cope with life.  She wouldn't be stuck in the past forever.  Love was a difficult thing for her to hold onto; at least if she slept with Seb, she might begin to love him.

Suddenly her world was plunged into darkness; two hands covered her eyes.

"Guess who?"

"Seb!"  Kirsty turned round to kiss him, yet he pulled away.  "What are you doing?  Remember why we're here?"

"I do, " said Seb, nervously stroking his hair.  He didn't like what he was about to do.  "I need to tell you something.  I think you'd better sit down."

"If it's about you-know-what, it's taken care of.  I'm on the Pill."

"It's not.  It's something about me."

"Go on."  Kirsty sat down.  Seb followed.

"A little while ago something happened.   Something, which changed my whole perspective on life."  Seb took a deep breath.  "I kissed someone."

"You what?"  Kirsty was in shock.  Sensible, reliable Seb had kissed someone else.  What was her world coming to?

"It wasn't just anyone Kirsty, it was a guy."

"A guy?"

"Kirsty, I think I'm gay."

A long silence followed.  Kirsty wasn't sure how she felt.  Hurt, because she almost loved Seb and thought he already did, yet relieved.  Relieved because she perhaps wasn't ready to move on, at least not with him.  Perhaps this had been the exit she was waiting for.

Feigning upset, she ran away.

***

The estate agent was desperate to make his first sale.  If he could just sell this one flat to his next client, then maybe he could save his job.  Maybe he wouldn't have to live off baked beans and scrounge off his family for the rest of his life.  The flat was pleasant enough; anyone in their right mind would take it.  It was in a nice part of Summer Bay, a new complex near the harbour with excellent facilities nearby, with Yabbie Creek just a short drive away. 

Kane was equally as confident.  He needed somewhere discreet, somewhere he could blend in, yet not be totally ignored.  Although the part of town he knew was close by, he was far away enough to not get caught up in the action.  He looked around.  The place was in need of a redecorate, yet was spacious with two bedrooms and a sea view.  He needed somewhere to keep his money secure.  "I'll take it."

The agent smiled.  His job was safe.

***

The road seemed to get longer, and longer as Brooke walked on, but eventually she reached 157 Yabbie Creek Drive.  To her dismay there was a 'sold' sign outside.  She went to the next house, and found out from the neighbour that yes, a woman had died, but no, her nephew didn't live there.  Apparently as soon as he'd got his inheritance, he'd moved away.   Brooke sighed, and sat on a nearby wall.  She was a pretty, mixed-race girl of sixteen, who had a habit of acting on instinct.  She'd come all the way from Perth, running away with leftover savings in the hope of finding her dream.  Where she had come from.  Only a few days ago she'd found the letters.  She'd had a row with her mother, and locked herself in the attic.  After exploring for a while, she'd found letters from seventeen years ago, before she was born, from a mysterious woman called Rosemary.  They detailed her mother's sudden departure from Melbourne after meeting an abusive boyfriend, Dave Phillips.  They also including information about him, how he'd already had a son, Kane, and left her to look after him, while he was on the run.  Over seventeen years, her mother had kept these letters, detailing this mans actions, yet had never thought to tell her daughter about him.  Dave Phillips was her father, she was sure of it.  The dates matched up, and it explained her mother's reluctance to talk about him.  She knew she couldn't find her father, but knew she could find her half-brother instead.  Kane Phillips.