So Much to Learn (15 page)

As I entered
back into the main club area I was feeling pretty good. My freak
out was completely forgotten and I moved to the music and weaved
through the crowd without any hesitation. I had just caught sight
of Jack and raised my hand to wave at him when I heard some guy
shout, "Get your hands off my girlfriend!"

Like everybody
else in the near vicinity I looked round to see what all the
commotion was about and saw an all too familiar mug reply, "Chill
out, I was just showing her some moves."

Uh-oh,
testosterone explosion in 3, 2, 1…

Bam! A fist in
the face. Not particularly original, but obviously effective and,
considering my history with the man getting hit, a very good move
all round.

And off they
went.

Have you ever
noticed that fights aren't at all like they are in the movies?
Hardly anyone ever gets a punch in except for at the very
beginning, after that it just becomes a mess of pushing and
shoving, their hands tightly holding on to the front of their
opponents shirts. I've seen more intense fights between women in a
shoe store after the same size.

Still, it was
perhaps not the best idea to loiter in the locality of so much raw
aggression and I began sidling round some spectators to join Jack
and Kristin. I was just thinking I was out of the danger zone when
suddenly the crowd parted beside me and, before I had time to
stagger out of the way, six feet of wheeling drunk man smacked into
me. My balance not being that good at the best of times in those
stupid shoes, I felt my ankle roll and the next moment I went down,
the guy crashing on top of me.

All the breath
was knocked out of me in one big whoosh, but being winded was the
least of my troubles; my ankle was trapped beneath the both of us
at an awkward angle and was sending messages of extreme pain to my
brain.

"Get off me,
you big brute," I wheezed, but, considering all the noise around
me, I doubt anyone heard me.

I don't think
there was anybody in a ten kilometre radius, however, who didn't
hear the roar that followed a moment later.

"Get off
her!"

The heavy
weight on top of me abruptly lifted and I was able to see Jack, the
muscles in his arms straining, hauling the guy off me. The movement
jarred my ankle and I gave a little yelp of pain, my eyes watering.
Despite the noise of the club Jack seemed to have heard me and he
threw the guy to one side before crouching down anxiously beside
me.

"Tally, you
alright?"

I pushed myself
up into a sitting position, being careful not to move my sore
ankle. "Well," I sighed, "much as I hate to sound like a pathetic
girl in an action film, I've hurt my ankle."

I allowed Jack
to gently help me up and I leant heavily on him to avoid putting
weight on my right leg.

"You, get her
some ice from the bar," Jack instructed the guy who had fallen on
me and, with surprisingly little complaint, he scurried off to do
his bidding.

Kristin,
showing surprising concern, shooed a girl off a nearby chair and
Jack basically carried me over to it. The ordered bag of ice
appeared a moment later and Jack knelt in front of me, as if he was
about to propose, and lifted my right leg up so that my injured
ankle was cradled in his strong hands. Slowly, and with great care,
he removed my silly heels and wrapped the ice around my ankle, the
cold making me start.

"Your dancing
shoes I said." Jack eyed the heel he had removed with scorn. "You
can't tell me those are your dancing shoes."

"Well sandshoes
don't really go with this outfit," I pouted, putting on my best
'snob' voice, which sounded eerily like Haley's.

"They're great
shoes," Kristin added, clearly wanting in on the conversation.
"Worth the pain, I'd say."

Jack looked at
her as if she had gone insane, then looked at me that way too as I
shrugged as if to say, 'yeah pretty much.'

"You girls are
mental," he murmured before looking at me squarely in the eyes.
"And before you suffer any more mishaps I'm taking you home."
Looking back up at Kristin he nodded. "It was good to see you
again."

"Yeah, you too.
Say hi to Matt for me." She smiled, showing all her huge glossy
white teeth.

Ooh predator
look.

Still, it was
me Jack was going home with so suck on that Kristin! OK, true, we
do live together, but I'd take any victory I could over a bombshell
like her.

We staggered
out of the club and to the car which, thankfully, wasn't parked too
far away. Jack helped me into the passenger seat and propped my leg
up on the dash with the ice firmly packed around it before making
his way round to the drivers’ side.

"Well that was
eventful," I said as we pulled out of the parking space and began
the drive home. "And seeing Kristin was a bit of a surprise. Should
we be worried that she'll tell people that she saw us
together?"

Jack shook his
head. "Nah, I made out like we were just hanging out and, besides,
compared to some of the dancing other people were doing ours was
relatively tame."

Little spikes
of hurt erupted in my chest at these words. I'd been soaring
through the galaxy on a wave of feelings and desires and he'd
thought our dancing was tame?

I was so
wrapped up in my wounded pride that I almost missed him mutter
quietly, "Outwardly at least."

I grinned shyly
and looked out the window, satisfied that he too had been affected
by our close contact earlier.

We fell silent
then and I gazed out the window at the lights flashing by feeling,
despite my throbbing ankle, happy and content.

"Why did you
date Kristin?" I asked suddenly, after a few minutes had passed.
I'd been thinking about this question in the toilet stall and
hadn’t been able to come up with an answer. I didn’t think she was
his type, she was much more the sort of girl Matt would be
interested in, loud, brassy and not afraid to flaunt her, um,
womanly attributes.

He didn't
answer for a long time and I looked round to see why not. He was
looking intently out the windscreen, his jaw was clenched.

"Jack?" I asked
in confusion.

He glanced at
me briefly and shook his head. "You're not going to like my answer
and I'm not much proud of it either." He took a deep breath and
rubbed a hand through his short hair. "To put it simply, I was with
Kristin because the sex was good." I made a noise of disgust and he
shrugged slightly. "I told you that you wouldn't like it."

"You could’ve
lied!" I exclaimed. "Now I've got really bad mental images." I
shook my head as if to clear them then looked at him with interest.
"You know, I would never have picked you as someone who chose a
girlfriend based on her sexual prowess. Matt, yes. You, no."

"Matt isn't as
shallow as all that," he defended my brother. "And Kristin has a
bit more to her than the average sex kitten, she understood the
arrangement just fine. The last couple of years she was there for
me when I needed to take my mind off things. She was never really
my girlfriend, we didn't ever date in the sense of going out…"

"Yes, thank
you," I interrupted quickly. "I think I get the general idea of
what your meetings entailed." I rearranged the ice on my ankle
then, somewhat more hesitantly, I continued, "And, by needing to
take your mind off things, I'm guessing you mean your hook ups take
place on the 19th of September?"

Jack's hands
tightened on the steering wheel and then he went very still apart
from a nerve which I could see ticking near his jaw. I wished I
could take back my thoughtless words. The 20th of September was the
day that his mother had crashed the car containing her and the
twins, Paul and Lizzie, and every year on the day before Jack and
Matt disappear for the whole day and night. I don't know exactly
what happens, but, safe to say, I think a lot of drinking and
debauchery takes place as Jack attempts to plunge himself into
oblivion where he can't be plagued by bad memories.

Seeing that he
wasn't relaxing, I gently put my hand on his arm and looked up at
him sadly. "I'm sorry, Jack," I said miserably. "I shouldn't
have-"

"No," he said
flatly, seeming to come back to himself although his grip on the
wheel didn't lessen any, “don't apologise. It's not a big
deal."

It clearly
was
a big deal and, although I usually tiptoed around his issues,
I suddenly didn't want to let it go.

"Won't you talk
to me about it?" I asked. "Getting stinking drunk and sleeping with
people like Kristin can't help really, can it?"

"Look, just
drop it." He spoke quietly; Jack had never really raised his voice
at me, but I would have taken shouting over the weird intensity
which laced his words and belied the volume they were spoken
at.

I really
considered continuing to push the issue, but I flinched away from
saying something which would, at least, cause him to speak in that
intense, flat voice again or, at most, upset the weird sort of
relationship we had going.

Cross at my
cowardice, I removed my hand from him and faced out the window
again.

Neither of us
spoke for the rest of the journey home and when we pulled into the
car park I opened my door and attempted to make a dignified exit
without his help. Unfortunately this proved to be impossible and,
before I could disentangle myself from the seatbelt and get my leg
off the dashboard, Jack had exited his side and come round to
mine.

One look at him
made me stop my fussing, but, as if scared I'd try to make a run,
or rather a hobble, for it, he put his hands on my shoulders,
pushing me back into the seat.

"Listen to me,"
he said and I could hear deep frustration in his voice. "I'm
screwed up, I know I am, but getting drunk on the 19th and having
sex with women like Kristin is the way I've found to deal with it.
I know that you don't get it, but, if I don't want to talk, it’s
not about you, OK? If I did want to talk then you or Matt or your
parents would be the ones I would go to. But at the moment I just…"
He faltered and I put my hands on top of his and held them
tight.

"It's OK," I
said, wanting him to stop as it was obviously hurting him to speak
like that.

Tension seemed
to flow out of his shoulder and he released me and stood back. "No,
it's not, but now's not the time to get into it." He reached past
me and unhooked my seatbelt before helping me out of the Ute.

With my arm
around him, I was able to hop across the asphalt, although anyone
who has tried to hop in high heels would understand that it was no
mean feat! The stairs were the most difficult thing and seemed to
take forever, like my very own Everest. When we reached our door I
collapsed against it, puffing heavily, before shooting Jack a wry
smile.

"Well, that was
certainly the most interesting date I've ever been on," I said,
looking up at him through my eyelashes. "All the highs and lows of
a rollercoaster."

Jack shot me a
small smile and stood back from me as if he was scared to get too
close. "It wasn't exactly as I'd planned it, no," he agreed.

I blew some
hair out of my face and shrugged. "When is anything?" I pointed
out. "I can honestly say, despite everything, that I had a great
time." I stepped forward hesitantly and, putting my hands on his
shoulders, I reached up and kissed him lightly on his jaw-line.
Leaning my cheek against his briefly I added, "In fact Lesson five
might just be my favourite so far."

I moved back
and we looked at each other for a long moment. Then, coughing
awkwardly, Jack gestured towards our flat. "Right, back to
business," he said gruffly. "That leg should be elevated." And,
without further ado, he opened the door and ushered me inside.

I woke up late
the next morning and would’ve slept longer if it hadn't been for
the throbbing in my ankle. Apparently all the drama and hi-jinks of
the Saturday night had completely exhausted me.

Well, that and
the fact that I'd dreamt of Jack again during the night and let's
just say my dreams weren't exactly G-rated. Perhaps more annoying
than feeling tired was that they left me feeling unfulfilled and
dissatisfied and, to be honest, scared me a little in how much they
affected me. I've never been a big believer in the theory that
dreams were particularly significant, but if I chose to listen to
my subconscious this time it wouldn't be long before I jumped Jack
and tore all his clothes from his body!

Throughout the
day flashes of the dreams came to the front of my mind meaning that
I would become suddenly flustered and embarrassed. The boys must
have thought I was going through extremely early menopause the way
I kept blushing and saying weird things to cover my
awkwardness.