Unfortunately not, but there is also another problem

It’s warm, even though it’s winter in Sydney. I’m wearing tight leggings in a dark gray color, with a scrunch at the back, a green sweater, and a black sports bra underneath. I also have on white sneakers and white tennis socks. It’s actually way too warm, but I won’t change until later. The van is ready to go, and it was registered in advance. Jack has even already mounted the license plates. “No time to waste!” I think to myself.

The backpack is on the floor where the taxi driver unloaded it. I bend down to the backpack, which is quite heavy. It feels like it weighs the same as I do. The backpack is packed with some gear, but I’m missing almost all my clothes since my suitcase unfortunately didn’t make it to Sydney. It got lost somewhere on the long journey, and I had to angrily and frustratedly file a lost luggage report at the airport in Sydney. The first problem, and I hadn’t even really arrived yet. Then there’s this feeling that pulls me out of my thoughts. I sense something familiar as I lean over the backpack—this feeling from soccer and other moments when boys and men have watched me. I glance briefly over my shoulder and quickly look forward again. I’m turning red. Jack’s gaze is glued to my backside. I quickly load the backpack into the van, trying to stand upright. Then I get in, say a quick “See you later!” with a smile to Jack, and off we go!

I search for accommodation nearby on Maps. Indeed, there’s a hostel not too far away that seems affordable. I have to get used to driving on the left side of the road, so I drive slowly and carefully. I’m making good progress, and I’m really glad I bought a van with automatic transmission. Shifting with my left hand would be really crazy, and I would never have managed it.

I spend the entire afternoon driving from hostel to hostel, and to be honest, there aren’t many near the workshop. I’m not successful. No one has a room available. “Great, this is off to a good start,” I think to myself. I’m left with two options: sleep in the van or find an alternative.

Frustrated, I drive back to Jack at the workshop. We chat while I thoroughly inspect the van again, and I tell him about my unfortunate situation without accommodation and without my suitcase. He looks at me and seems to consider: “Well, actually, I have a small apartment nearby. It’s furnished. But I haven’t had the chance to clear it out yet. A young woman lived there last, and she moved out in a hurry. She just left everything behind. I haven’t had the time to clean up. Even her clothes are still there. It was really strange. I can give you a good price for two weeks if you’d like?”

I’m totally surprised by the offer. Jack is truly a gem. Great van and just so helpful.

Before I can respond, Jack continues: “Check out the apartment before you decide. She was—hmmmm—special.”