Amy yearns for something more than her life in Brisbane, Australia. She just doesn’t expect Noah.

BY FIONA HEYMAN

IMAGE BY JAMES WHEELER/PEXELS.COM

July, 2014

Amy scrunched up her nose at the scratched train windows and exhaled loudly to herself. An empty Coke bottle rolled around on the carriage floor, begging to be put in a rubbish bin. After a quick but dramatic roll of the eyes, Amy wriggled her toes that were squished up against the inside of her high-heels. She knew she would stubbornly refuse to change out of them on her walk home, even if it meant she’d be nursing blisters later. Then she’ll do it all again next week.

Her eyes followed the outlines of the graffiti-stained tunnels—a welcome alternative to making awkward eye contact with strangers. Gross, she thought. Amy closed her eyes and pulled her bag in securely towards her chest, her questionable taste in music drowning out the click-clack of the railway lines.

It was no secret that she hated public transport with a passion. No one respected it and it did nothing but let her down. Trains were never on time here, but using them was nonnegotiable. She couldn’t afford a car and her childhood home was waiting for her at the end of the line, half an hour from Brisbane. All she could do was continue to sit there, unimpressed, and begin to daydream of a better life, away from a monotonous nine-to-five office job, away from sardines in business suits, away from here.

October, 2015

When Amy first saw Noah she didn’t think much of him. He walked slowly with his hands in his pockets as though he had nowhere to be and it didn’t matter how long it would take to get there. Amy, on the other hand, was used to her fast-paced city tunnel vision and couldn’t help but walk quickly and with purpose, her long strides leaving others in her wake. Although he was a little taller than her, she couldn’t help but notice that he had to put a little pep in his step just to keep up with her as she effortlessly led the way.

Noah was your classic twenty-something year old with messy facial hair and a cheeky grin who would make fun of his new friends to try and make himself look good. Amy definitely didn’t have time for that, even if he was Canadian. She was more interested in the mountainous backdrop of British Columbia, which she would now call home for the next two years. It was a vast contrast from life back in Australia, where she had to drive for hours to reach any kind of elevation and even then, the views were incomparable.

Amy paused to sit down at the end of the lake’s timber dock. She was distracted by the way the clouds reflected on the mirror-like surface, the noticeably dewy air untarnished by pollution, and the sound of ice-cold beer cans being cracked open. Nearby, a girl with outrageously curly hair picked up a pebble and skipped it across the lake. It made it a good couple of metres before sinking into the watery depths of the unknown. The ripples from its momentum morphed the clouds and trees and mountains together in saturated hues of blue and green and black.  Smiling contently to herself, Amy swivelled around to check in on her friends who were chatting amongst themselves on the dock beside her. She could have sworn she caught Noah’s eye as he quickly turned away. She had never seen anything quite so beautiful, and unbeknownst to her, Noah was starting to think the same thing as he watched her take in her surroundings for the first time.

Amy had a loud nature that was subdued until recently, an unapologetically expressive face, and one hell of a laugh to go along with it. If you could make her laugh her deep belly laugh, you had really achieved something. And in this moment, with new friends and not a care in the world, it was unleashed. It echoed distinctly into the wilderness, startling the chipmunks and stopping white-tailed deer in their tracks. She had always wished she had a more feminine laugh, but to those around her it was contagious and she had no say in the matter at all.

She had pushed herself way beyond her comfort zone just by being here, getting to know strangers in a new country over one too many cans of Kokanee, unprepared for the early mornings working at the ski hill and late nights partying at staff-housing. But they all had that in common here, bonding over the same new experience and a desire for something more. She had never been a beer drinker, but times had changed, and so had she.

November, 2017

As the waves crashed up against the shore, Amy decided that this, right here, sitting on the edge of the Pacific Ocean, was an accurate representation of how she was feeling: deflated, frustrated, and desperate to be somewhere she wasn’t. Unable to extend her working holiday visa, her time in Canada had come to an abrupt halt with a somewhat rude awakening. Permanent residency wasn’t an option and neither was sponsorship. She had only been living with Noah for three months after realizing she ‘liked him’ liked him and he ‘liked her’ liked her too. In true Amy style, she had waited until the last minute to let him know on their last night out together, confessing on the dance floor, her heart aflutter under the strobe lights.

Noah had to return to Ontario after burning through his savings as he tried to survive off a diet of instant noodles and marijuana. But from the moment he left British Columbia, they didn’t stop talking until the day he drove halfway across the country to come pick her up and drive her back home with him, running on the fumes of a what-if and what could be.

Somewhere in-between the shy smiles, sideways glances and awkward small talk, Amy fell for Noah. He had even accepted the challenge to teach her how to snowboard, which she was sure he regretted as soon as she started complaining about sore legs and steep slopes, which were practically flat but she could have sworn looked like a cliff-face. It was a good excuse to hold his hands, which she brushed off as hanging on for dear life; Amy in her second-hand, silly-looking snow gear, and Noah with his long hair, beanie and baggy pants, looking way too cool for her. Amy couldn’t help but watch in awe as he floated down the hill showing off, jumping off features, spinning around all over the place, and slicing through the snow like it was butter. 

Amy found a lot of respect for him that day and felt the need to remind herself that she was here to catch flights, not feelings. And even though she had loved every minute of it, it felt wrong to accept his advances that evening. She was convinced that they would just be friends, but he was so damn persistent with his scruffy beard and Canadian accent. And after eight more weeks of beer-pong and fluking it at pool, she caved in a corner booth at the local bar, his mouth on hers, unsure why it took her so long to give in, but certain it was right.

The realization that she was unable to stay in Canada was soul-crushing, and Noah—the guy she had absolutely no intention of falling in love with—was now a million miles away.

Amy stretched out her legs to dip her toes in the water and for a split second contemplated swimming to Vancouver before quickly retreating. It was colder than she was expecting.

As another wave hit the embankment, spraying her skin with salty, sticky water, a weight of unwelcome emotions washed over her. She felt a sudden tightness in her chest and her eyes started to sting from resistance. Fan-freaking-tastic, she thought, pulling her feet in closer towards her in a fastened embrace. In a moment of intense vulnerability and sudden clarity, a month’s worth of raw and organic tears started flooding out, leaving her whole body convulsing—the ocean her only witness.

Noah was the only thing Amy was sure of, and she didn’t know when she would be able to see him again. In the space of six months, she had fallen for the boy who walked slowly with his hands in his pockets, the same boy who made fun of his friend to try and get her attention. The same boy, she discovered, who wasn’t afraid of hard work and whose wardrobe consisted of nothing but flannelette shirts and blue jeans.

He was the same boy who had refused to give up on her, even after she had rejected his advances three times, and the same boy that she refused to admit she liked until he was gone. Maybe, she wondered, this long-distance thing would be possible after all. And maybe, just maybe, he was starting to think the same thing too.

Fiona Heyman is an Australian marketing professional who bought a ticket to Canada in 2015 to work at the ski fields in British Columbia. In 2020, she came back to Canada to complete Humber’s post-graduate certificate in Professional Writing and Communications in Toronto. She is determined to stay, and can be found on LinkedIn or through her blog.

Image: James Wheeler/Pexels.com, Symmetrical Photography of Clouds Covered Blue Sky, 2018.

Edited for publication by Ysabella Maglanque as part of the Creative Book Publishing Program.

The HLR Spotlight is a collaboration between the Faculty of Media & Creative Arts and the Faculty of Liberal Arts & Sciences and Innovative Learning at Humber College in Toronto, Ontario. This project is funded by the Applied Research & Innovation.