Once, I seriously considered telling my friend that the sole reason I bought a car is because my parents want to go to the moon. Then I thought…hmm. You know, I should probably rephrase that if I ever actually get round to telling her. But what does it matter, right? They’re all going to blast off in their imaginary rockets to make their glorious new moon kingdom- sorry, lunar kingdom- and so long as I don’t tell anyone their plans, they won’t…I don’t know. I guess I’d be deported to New Zealand, or something.I needed wheels to get out of that house, which is why it was awesome that I was friends with Stacey. Her Dad used to know a guy at a garage in Bentleigh. Automotive services was what they were all about. My parents tried to recruit this guy one time and I realised that Stacey from school was his daughter. Totally embarrassing that my parents brought me along on that little mission trip, but Stacey and I bonded over it later, and her Dad fixes old cars, so I figured that he’d…I don’t know. Have one lying around that he didn’t need? We live in a really isolated place, so I really just needed something with wheels that would go forward so I could escape the house and the moon cult meetings. Mum and Dad have already said that I’m relegated to the Earth team forever, which is fine by me.
I didn’t have any money, because that all goes to the cult and nothing is left for anything as extravagant as an allowance. But I got a job, saved up little bit little after school, and now I finally have a bomb on wheels. Freedom at last! And Stacey’s Dad has given me the names of the best places in Bentleigh for auto electrical and…well, he’s taught me a lot about cars in general. My parents don’t drive, obviously. That’s time that could be spent pretending to design rockets.