Fragments (28 page)

“Deal. Besides, I prefer lilac and frills.” Rolling my eyes, I straighten myself on the couch. It was good to have her making jokes with me again. For a moment, I could pretend that we had never been apart for those four years and that this was where we always were.

“Shut up, Twinkle Toes. I wanna watch Neeson kick some arse. Pass that popcorn back.”

“Only if you stop wasting it with your pathetic attempts at catching it.” As she finishes speaking, she throws a popcorn grain in the air and catches it. Smiling, she looks up at me with an expression that says,
See? It wasn’t hard.
Instead of responding, I just stare at her mouth. Consciously, I lick my lip while my eyes trail up to her hers. Her right eyebrow rises in confusion. I quickly turn and grab the remote. Damn, she does not realise how hot that was. 

Memories of when I made love to her come back into my thoughts. Her damn mouth was something not easily forgotten. Clearing my throat, I flick through the channels until I find the film while I scold myself for being such a sleaze. Tonight is going to be a long night. I just have to try to not stare at her legs, or just simply stare at her. If I reach out now, I could easily touch her, and so I busy myself, keeping my hands on the remote or my phone. I finally find the station and get up to turn off the lights. The only illumination in the lounge room is the TV, and that is fine by me.

              The next morning, I rise eagerly to make brunch. We usually did it on Sundays, but I was too keen to welcome her. I want to full-steam us into buddy-buddies and hope like hell she is glad for it, too. Plus, the more I keep myself busy, the less chance I have of crashing everything to the side and just jumping her. It has been a long time since I wanted something like I want her.

I go to the bathroom and wash my face and brush my teeth. I keep my PJ pants on, but throw a T-shirt  over my head, too. Brunch is all about being casual and relaxed in our house, so PJs are a must. Brushing of the teeth is also a must. There is no way that I want to subject her to Satan’s arse breath first thing in the morning.

              I open the fridge and reach for the eggs, bacon, and mushrooms. Placing them on the island bench, I turn the oven on to warm up for the hash browns.  I can’t remember how she likes her eggs, so I decide I’ll go poached and try to impress her. Yeah, I am being a moron, but I want to wow her. Placing the continental-style bread on the grill, I retrieve the hash browns and line a tray with them. Once I have chopped up the mushrooms and sorted out the eggs and bacon, I look at my brunch that I’ve prepped and smile. Yeah, she is going to think I am awesome.

              Whistling, I head towards her door to call her up. It is already 10am, so I figure she’ll be awake. Knocking, I wait for her to open it and after a while, I notice that there aren’t any noises.

Huh,
I think.  S
he’s probably asleep.

Turning the handle, I begin saying, “Good morning, roomie, it’s time for your welcome back to…” instead, I stand agape as I stare at Bea’s bed. I don’t see anything else but her. Sprawled between her covers, the tip of the doona lays across her midsection, while her right leg has curled out. Most of her body is exposed and draped in an emerald green and black laced silky bodice and fucking short nightie. It’s like Victoria’s Secret has decided to drop one of their angels in that bed. Her hair is draped all over the back of her pillow and her left arm is up and curled under her chin. It’s a scene from a wet dream, only hotter. Holy shit—if she opens her eyes and sees me here, I’m fucked. 

I step from foot to foot trying to negotiate which way to turn so that I don’t wake her. I feel like a clumsy bear in a cave. Taking another look to check that she’s asleep, I turn while keeping my eyes on her, only to knock a photo frame from her bookshelf behind me with my elbow. It crashes down onto the floor and luckily doesn’t smash. Before I can grab it, I hear a startled gasp and inwardly cringe as I feel her eyes on me. Resigned to the inevitable, I bend over and pick up the frame, repositioning it on the shelf while mentally calling it a
fucker
and turn to face her. She is sitting up in bed, with her arm holding back her wavy hair from her face.              

“I’m so sorry, Bea,” I stammer. “I tried knocking and didn’t hear anything, and by the time I realised you were asleep, I knocked over this frame.” I finish, pointing at the offending frame as though it is the one to blame. Not me, the pervy housemate.

She clears her throat and croaks, “S’okay. I should get up anyway. What did you need me for?”

Oh, you know … just wanted to strip you naked …
Clearing my throat, I gesture to outside her door.

“It’s brunch time, so I wanted to get you. It’s all ready to go.”

I’m staring at her body. I know I shouldn’t, but fuck it I can’t stop.

“I have hash browns in the oven and I’ll have your legs, argh—” I stammer. “I mean, eggs ready soon.” I turn quickly and march out before I make an even bigger fool of myself.
Legs? Could I be even more of a moron?

I arrive at the bench and begin to whisk the eggs in a bowl. Nope, I’m too frazzled to poach. This will do.

              Bea soon arrives in the kitchen in a satin, yes, satin—
kill me now
—robe. The sleeves hang along her arms, but that’s not what I’m thinking about. It’s the fact that it clings to her torso, and I know what’s underneath. Only now, from the looks of her, it’s better.
Back off, twitchy fingers.
I quickly look up to the ceiling while she bends over in the fridge and ask for a moment of strength. It’s too soon to think what I’m thinking. Without delay, I grab my phone out of my pyjama pocket and text Ty.

Dude, we need to go out tonight
.

After a few moments, it just vibrates and take a peek and see a response.

Hell yeah.

He doesn’t realise how grateful I am right now. I need a distraction until I can get my head together, or I will screw this up. Tonight, I’ll let loose and hopefully clear my thoughts a bit.

Turning back, Bea is seated at the table and has set it for us. Sipping her juice, she looks thoughtful. Before thinking, I stupidly blurt out, “So, no more band shirts?”

The words are no sooner out of my mouth than I want to wrench them back.  This is the

closest we’ve come to discussing ‘that’ night. 

She smirks and looks at me. “Alex, I’m a woman now, not a tomboy teenager. I’ve discovered a lot of things since then, including the enjoyment of silk.”  Without falter, she picks up her juice and continues to drink it, never taking her eyes off me.

“Why?” she tugs at her robe, “Is this offensive?”

Before I can round my thoughts, I mutter, “I preferred the shirts. They were cooler.”

Her cool façade fades as she quickly looks down and draws her robe in closer.

“Oh,” is all that she says.

Before burning any food, I quickly slide each dish onto two plates to keep my mind and

hands busy. What in the hell did I just do? I place one in front of her and sit at the other place setting.

“Ty and I are going to go out tonight …”
Because I need to get away from you before I do something stupid,
“… so feel free to invite any of your girlfriends over so you’re not by yourself.”

I begin diving into my eggs while berating myself for not poaching them. Anything to distract myself, which isn’t hard, as these taste rubbery and shit. Bea puts down her fork and looks up to me with her brow furrowed.

“Is it a boys’ thing?”

“No, just Ty and I are hanging out at RTs,” I reply through chewing down my bacon.

“So, you won’t mind if I invite a few girlfriends and we come out too? Haven’t been out in ages.”

Now, my fork stops abruptly as I gaze back at her. Her eyes plead for me to give in.

“Yeah, of course. We usually eat there and shoot pool afterwards. Nothing classy.”

“Perfect,” she muses. “I’ll text Trinity now. Sounds just like what I need.” 

That’d be right. The whole purpose of going out was to get lost in someone, but now she’s going to see me forgetting her …

I am truly fucked.

“And here my mind was so sunk in itself

That nothing coming to it from outside

During that time, could be received by it.”

Purgatory XVII
; lines 22–25

Trice

             
Sure, you want us to tag along tonight
. I cannot believe I invited myself along. But to be honest, if we want this friendship to work, we need to hang out.

Sigh.
I know what will happen when he’s out. I heard enough from Robbie to last a lifetime, and that was when I was blocking it all out. Well, if I want to push this stupid crush out for good, I need to see the man whore in his natural habitat. I need to hurt and deal with it properly.

It’s just so hard being around him. I’m such a fool to think we have a connection. In that short space of time, he showed that he no longer knew me. He was quick to assume that I would cheat on a boyfriend— Nothing worse than the guy who has imbedded himself under your skin thinking you’d do that. In just four years, I realise that we didn’t know each other, yet we still did. He still clenches his fists when he is agitated, he grits his teeth when he’s agitated. That smile. That smile still gives me chills. I am doomed. Seeing him again now kick-started my heart, and I begin to thrum in time to its beat. 

The irony of it all is that I bet his women all drape themselves in sexy lingerie to get him hot, whereas my nightie turned him cold. Fancy telling me that my faded, torn band T-shirts that I usually got from thrift stores were better than my expensive French silk? I had officially been shunned to the
friend
corner. Any romantic notions fading into a stagnant stupor.

From what Robbie would let slip, all Alex looks for are empty vessels. With me, I can’t even wear sexy lingerie without him insulting it.

Enough!
I have to move on. Who says that he should be the only one having fun? What better way to kick this crush away? Closing my eyes, I will a smokin’ hot guy to be there tonight. Just one. Just enough to distract myself from the Hulk who resides so close to me now.

              Picking up my phone, I text Trinity to see if she’s up for tonight; straight away she calls me, and we plan our evening. I look at the time and see that it’s eleven thirty and I need to take my car in for a service. Trin plans to be over here in a few hours so we can primp and prime ourselves for tonight. The strict instructions of, “We have to look hot but not like slappers” is delivered to my ear, and I can’t help but chuckle at her honesty.

Ending the call, I jump in the shower and begin to wash away my nerves from being so close to Alex. Not even here for twenty-four hours and he is causing me to pant like a schoolgirl. His body has filled out more since I saw him last, and with his new facial scruff he is even hotter. Dammit. Friends, he said. Pfft.

              I quickly dry off after my shower and wrap the towel around me. My cheeks are flushed in my reflection, but luckily it can be blamed on the hot water.
Get a grip
, I tell myself. I pull my cut-off shorts on as well as my black tank. It’s quite balmy today, so I twist my curls into a top knot, securing it with two hair ties while pulling bits out to give it a messy look. After brushing my teeth and applying a faint red-coloured lip-gloss, I’m right to go. Heading back into my room, I put on my blue Chucks and grab my bag. The mechanic is only a short drive away, and luckily, the tram is nearby to get back home. I can’t seem to see Alex around, so I just head out and jump into my car. As I’m starting it, my phone beeps with a text from Trinity. Apparently, there’s a sale at a factory outlet on Nicholson. Excellent. We make plans to meet there after I drop my car off.  My phone buzzes again with another message from Trin.

Trin: We’ll get you a non-slapper dress you hoe-bag. But those RT slappers will make us feel ooooolllllldddd.

Me: Shut your pie hole, hoe-rendous. It’ll be ME stopping YOU from slumming it, while you continue to age, granny.

                I turn my CD player on and pump up the volume. I love my tunes, and this is about the only time that I don’t have to listen to the pop crap the dickhead director, or DD, makes us do. DD prefers to get us to listen to flirty innuendo-filled songs by female performers.             

Daz’s Mechanics is located close to the terminus near Robbie’s apartment. I have been coming here with my car since I moved here, and the guys are always super friendly.

Lily takes her car here as well, at the same time. We hardly speak, though—Lily is extremely shy and skittish. Despite being older than Alex, you could easily mistake them as being the other way around. Her hair is the same ash blond, but her eyes were a deep green. She is slender and tall, incredibly beautiful, but very socially awkward. I know she studies history, but I don’t know to what extent.