Anna's stomach jolts with excitement as the wheels hit the tarmac. Momentum of five-hundred-seventy-five thousand kilograms of aluminium vibrating in her spine as they hurtle down the runway, grinding to a halt. She bunches up her fists and her voice goes high, 'Can you believe it? We're finally here!'

Kristoff smiles lazily out the tiny window at all the countless other planes in their parking bays. His huge long legs are pressed against the seats in front of them, and his arms spill over the armrests. 'I can't wait to get out of this tiny seat, get to our new place, put my feet up, and smoke a big, fat doobie.'

'Geez, calm down.' Anna elbows him playfully, 'You just had one before we left.'

'That was ages ago. We've crossed an ocean since then!'

It's a strait, not an ocean. And technically, it's only been about an hour and a half since Kristoff smoked his last joint. The flight was slightly ahead of schedule, fifty-two minutes in total. Anna has been counting them. The plane couldn't move fast enough for her liking. Time couldn't move fast enough. Ever since she got her university acceptance email, she has counted down the days, the hours, the minutes until this very moment.

Ever since Elsa moved away, two-ish years ago, Anna's life has been a neverending countdown of days, hours, and minutes until each next visit. But visits were never long enough, and the farewell at the airport always left her with an even greater pain in her chest. An emptiness that threatened to swallow her in the long, lonely nights, when the incomprehensible distance between them was suffocating.

The seatbelt sign turns off with a ding, and everyone on the plane begins standing, muttering, shuffling around. Fast as lightning, Anna is up, pulling their backpacks and skateboards out of the overhead baggage compartment, yanking a lumbersome Kristoff behind her. She paid extra, and booked their seats up the front deliberately, so she could get off the plane first, and not waste a single second.

It's worth it when she sees Elsa standing there with open arms by the baggage conveyor belt, like an angel, shrouded in light. Wearing some kind of pale linen shirt with her glorious flowing hair. Everything good and right and wonderful in human form. She runs through the crowd, ready to leap, to wrap her arms and legs around her sister, to breathe in her clean, comforting scent and press their cheeks together and feel her soft hair and-

The hard ground greets her instead with a jarring impact, rattling her bones. She tripped over someone's luggage, apparently. She feels the brief urge to cry, pressure welling up in her eyes, just from the shock of the throbbing pain in her palms and elbows where she's caught herself, but holds it back. They're in public and it's already kinda embarrassing. Kristoff and Elsa rush to her side with 'Oh my god!' and 'Are you okay?' She shakes it off, though. Nothing can ruin today. She brushes herself off as Elsa gathers her into her arms and they finally share their embrace, a little different than Anna has been picturing it, but no less sweet. 'I've missed you so much,' She whispers.

'I've missed you too.' Elsa plants a kiss on her forehead and squeezes her a little longer. Anna wishes the contact would never end, but it does, and it hurts a little, like stepping outside into freezing wind. 'Oh, there's your bag!'

Elsa grabs the checkered sports bag and hoists it onto her shoulder. Kristoff slides the straps of his guitar case onto his back, and he and Anna pull their suitcases along behind them, skateboards under their arms. They make it through the noise and movement of the crowded terminal, and out the automatic doors into the big bright world. It's exciting how different the air feels on her skin, hotter and drier. Anna is sweating already under the high summer sun, lugging her suitcase into the carpark, onto the elevator, and down to that familiar little blue car with its fading Greens stickers and the smiling snowman bobblehead on the dashboard. She flops into the front passenger seat, and feels something settle deep inside her. It feels like home.

'Hey, check it out!' Kristoff says, 'It's that giant star-wheel thing!'

Anna turns toward the window to see that it is, indeed, that giant star-wheel thing. She's sure it probably has a proper name. They've been gliding down the six-lane freeway for a while, past gargantuan billboard advertisements and three storey high underpasses and turn offs. The city-skyline has come into view, huge, looming blue buildings, shining in the midday sun, promising hustle and bustle, culture and freedom, interesting new people and exciting new adventures. Maybe even love.

She hadn't noticed that they're almost in the city already. Her attention has been solely focused on Elsa driving beside her. On her slender hands on the steering wheel, neatly groomed nails. Tendons moving slightly as she flicks the indicating lever on and off again. The sun shining through the window, illuminating her rosy pale skin. Elsa posts memes about being so very ancient, how her bones are falling apart at the ripe old age of thirty-two, but not a single wrinkle or blemish marrs her radiant face. Her delicate cheekbones, perfect lips, big soulful eyes and-

Ah, shit. It's happening again. That feeling. That need. That crush of frustration clawing at her chest, a desire for more than more than what a sister is supposed to desire. She had hoped two years of distance might quash whatever it is. But it seems this sickness is here to stay.

Anna gives herself a little shake, ignoring the shame simmering on her face, and tries to tune into the conversation. Kristoff explains how they found this sharehouse on a Facebook group for students moving interstate. It's queer and 420 friendly, and they have lots of pets. It's also "vegan adjacent" whatever that means.

'Yep. Sounds like Brunswick.' Elsa says with a knowing smile. 'So what are your plans for your first night in the big city?'

'Anna wants to go clubbing.' Kristoff groans.

'Of course. That sounds like my Anna.' Elsa says. 'Have you guys been yet?'

'Aw, yeah we did...' Anna says. She turned eighteen only about a month ago, and she made the obligatory tour of Hobart's handful of mediocre nightclubs, with no shortage of male attention. 'But only the regular clubs. You know what Hobart's like. Only one gay bar, and everyone knows someone who knows someone and people whisper and talk…'

'Anna…' Elsa shoots her a brief sympathetic glance, then turns her focus back to the road, 'You're going to have to come out to Mum and Dad eventually…'

'I know…'

Elsa doesn't understand. She's normal. More than normal, she's perfect. She's like a human barbie doll. She's never had to carry a secret like this, every day of her life.

'I just don't wanna rock the boat. Things have been better at home, lately. And I don't want to disappoint them.'

'I know they can be a little… intimidating. But you know, they love you no matter what. They might surprise you.'

'Easy for you to say, you were always so perfect-'

'-I was far from perfect.' Elsa laughs into her words.

'Yeah, sure, if you say so…' Anna grumbles. She has seen Elsa's high school report cards, all straight As. Seen the pictures, heard the stories. She was an academic all-rounder, captain of the debate team, star tennis player, musical prodigy and even found time to volunteer at every single Church event ever. There's a folder in the storage cupboard, fat with Elsa's many accolades. Certificates, medals, particularly good essays with "Wow!" written by teachers in red pen, countless maths and science awards. She even got to shake hands with the state premiere on tv when she topped the state in her year twelve exams.

Anna just barely scraped into a Bachelor of Arts.

They arrive at the sharehouse on a leafy backstreet and are greeted by a motley crew of colourful characters with shaved heads, earrings, coloured hair, loud patterned shirts, reflective clothing and ironic bum-bags. Anna feels awfully plain in her denim shorts, monochrome T-shirt and boring mum-approved plaits. Like a real country-bumpkin. But no one seems to mind. She and Kristoff receive a warm welcome, hugs, a tour of the house and a cool beer each. Definitely a good start.

It's one of those old, crumbly Victorian style houses that uni students always seem to live in, with high, cracked ceilings, ornate trim around the skirting boards and light fixtures, cupboard doors that don't quite close properly and of course, the cherry on top: an outside toilet. The furniture is all mismatched and faded, the kitchen is kind of a mess, with sticky tiles, plants on the window-sill, a bowl of browning fruit and six different types of coffee. All the decorations are odd and rustic. A mannequin in a fishnet body suit with its arms held out, functioning as a coat rack. A set of bongo drums by the tv, retro lamps, fairy-lights, skateboard decks painted with some kind of erotic abstract art and mounted to the walls. No one could argue it doesn't have character.

'So this is your room.' Bonnie says in a sing-song voice. She's a thin young woman with a tanned belly exposed beneath her crop top, baggy jeans and a classic hipster mullet. 'Lovely window, as you can see.'

The view out of the window is bricks. Just a straight up brick wall. But Anna is still happy to have a window. There's a plain bed in the corner, as advertised. A small plastic desk with a tattered office chair. A bookshelf and a built-in wardrobe. Excitement builds in her chest, compelling her to bounce around a little bit, from one corner to the other. It's nothing special, but it's hers, and it's here, in Melbourne, far away from her parents where she can finally be her goofy gay self! Well, mostly. There's still the issue of her mixed up feelings about her sister to deal with. But surely it will be easier here, without her parents interfering, being weird about everything, dragging her to church every weekend so she can hear about how she's going to hell.

Elsa offers to help her unpack, but Anna declines, a little embarrassed of how all her things are shoved haphazardly into her suitcase and bags with no organisation. She left her packing to the last minute, of course, and had to pull everything out this morning to find socks, then shove it all back in. Elsa would have an aneurism. She's running her finger along the window sill at the moment, inspecting the dust, saying nothing.

The other housemates invite Elsa to stay for a beer, but she declines, very politely, with a neutral face. 'I'm sure you don't want me hanging around, boring you all with research talk.'

I really do want you hanging around, Anna doesn't say. It's not like before, she tells herself. They're in the same city now. They can see each other all the time. She tries not to cling when Elsa leaves, instead taking a generous swig of her beer and smiling brightly as she heads into the backyard where chilled summer tunes are thumping and a paddle pool is being filled with water.


'Shit, man.' Kristoff lies flat on his back with his hands behind his head. His huge, hairy feet dangle comically off the edge of the bed. 'This bed's too small. I'm gonna have to buy a new one. Do you think Elsa can drive us to IKEA?'

'Hmm.' Anna contemplates. She doesn't want Kristoff to have cold, unsupported feet. But at the same time… 'I don't want to bother her for every little thing, you know? She's really busy, she's doing her-'

'I knooww,' Kristoff stretches out the last syllable and rolls his eyes, 'She's doing her PhD. You only mention it seven thousand times a day- Hey! Is your sister doing a PhD or not? I can't remember…'

'Anyway, we can get there ourselves,' Anna punches a few addresses into her public transport app. 'We only need to get a tram to Parkville, cut through Melbourne Uni, then get a bus to Collingwood, then another tram to Richmond. How hard can it be?'

'But she said if we need anything-'

'-Kris!' Anna snaps. 'We are independent, resilient young adults who don't need to be driven around everywhere like babies, okay?'

'Okay!' He holds his hands up in surrender. 'I'm sorry. Didn't mean to step on any sore spots…'

Damn, Kristoff isn't the most perceptive guy in the universe, but he has his moments. Sure, he's a pungent young man, a little antisocial sometimes, and he smokes entirely too much weed. But as far as best friends go, Anna could do worse. He has been there for her, through thick and thin, ups and downs. Listened to all her lamenting and moaning after Elsa moved away. Let her cry endless tears into his shoulder. He doesn't judge, or minimise, or pry, even though the sympathy on his face tells her that, on some level, he understands that it isn't as simple as it all seems.

Anna isn't quite sure what factor tipped the scales and sent Elsa hurtling away from her across the Bass Strait, at eight hundred kilometres per hour. Sure, she didn't love her job, and there was some kind of argument going on between her and their parents - but that was nothing new. Anna wasn't privileged to know the details. Having her needy, clingy, clumsy, messy, dramatic kid-sister hanging around her house all the time must have had something to do with it.

She doesn't want to test that theory.

She flops onto the bed next to him and looks up at the cobwebbed ceiling with all its odd stains and cracks. 'Well, it looks like it's time for our first adventure!' She holds her hand up above them, gesticulating, 'The Gays go to IKEA.'

Kristoff holds up a hand as well, and continues, 'A heartwarming tale of love, secrets and self-discovery.'