So Much to Learn (6 page)

"Oh yeah?" I
said coldly. "And what did you say?"

"That no-one
messes my best friend around and, if he ever treated another woman
like that, I would get you to tell the entire campus that the only
reason you never did it with him was because you don't sleep with
morons with bigger dicks on their heads than anywhere else."

I cheered at
her response. Sometimes Simone comes up with these beautiful little
put downs and she delivers them with the speed and cutting of a
whip crack.

"Oh that's too
bad," I exclaimed. "I did that already. Hey do you want to come
over, Simmy? The guys are here and I think I'm going to need some
feminine support this evening."

"They're all
there? Oh that's nice when you're grieving!" She sounded very
indignant, what a sweetie.

"You make it
sound like someone's died," I chuckled. "So I'll see you in a
bit?"

"Definitely."

Jamming my
phone into my pocket, I uncurled myself from the chair and slunk
past Matt, who was busy trying to disentangle himself from a
conversation with my mother, and into Jack's room.

I shut the door
behind me and put my hands on my hips. "You could have told me,
Jack," I said accusingly, without any sort of preamble. He looked
up at me in surprise and then slowly shut the text book he'd been
flipping through.

"Told you what,
exactly?" He asked slowly swivelling around in his desk chair so he
could look at me more easily.

"That Matt had
attacked Brad, I mean it does concern me somewhat. And why didn't
you stop him? Were you there?"

His brow
crinkled as though he was confused about something and then he very
slowly nodded his head. "Yeah I was there," he said cautiously, as
if he wasn't very sure about that fact. "But I didn't stop it
because Brad deserved it."

"Well, at least
Matt didn't hit him," I said, trying to look on the bright
side.

"Yeah, there is
that," Jack agreed, but he didn't look too happy about it.

Something
wasn't quite right. Jack looked ridiculously uneasy and I could’ve
sworn he was lying about something. He was fidgeting something
shocking and I’d just opened my mouth to ask him what was wrong,
when the door burst open and Matt appeared, still holding the
phone.

"Your turn
Hammer and, for God’s sake, don't ask her about Professor Clarence,
I already hate the man."

Jack grinned
and took the phone. "Mrs D! How are you?" He began, his voice
fairly dripping with affection. His face was transformed from being
creased with worry to open happiness. Seeing him so cheerful made
some of the tension in my body melt away and I smiled fondly as he
wandered out of the room, listening intently to my mother's prattle
in a way I'd never seen anyone else manage to do.

I was brought
sharply down to Earth, however, as it was my brother's turn to
close Jack's door in preparation for a confrontation. "Anything you
want to tell me, Natalia?" He asked sardonically and I sighed
loudly.

"Don't call me
that. But yes, I broke up with Brad yesterday. And I'm sorry you
found out like you did, but if you sit down and behave nicely I'll
tell you all about it."

He rolled his
eyes and I could tell he wasn't really angry just a bit hurt. Of
course, due to masculine pride, he couldn't really express that. He
brushed a sweep of hair out of his face, instead, and glowered at
me. "I'm not going to like this story much, am I?" He asked very
perceptively.

Shaking my head I led him over to the bed where we both sat
down and I proceeded to tell him everything that had happened the
day before. Actually, scrap that, I didn't tell him
everything
. The bit where
I forced his best friend to become my teacher in matters of the
physical I left out for obvious reasons. I felt a hard little knot
forming in my stomach as I lied by omission. Damn my closeness with
my brother! Lots of people I know have no qualms at all about lying
left, right and centre to their siblings.

By the end of
the story his fists were clenched, just as Jack's had been when I'd
talked to him about it, and I was suddenly thankful that I hadn't
told him earlier because he probably wouldn't have stopped at
throwing Brad against the wall.

"You should
have told me before," he said tightly and I gave him a quick
one-armed hug in apology and then bounced off the bed.

"Come on, let's
join the others," I said to distract him from his anger. It seemed
to work as he followed me without complaint back into the living
area to see that Jack was still on the phone over in the kitchen.
Micky, Tommo and Samsa, meanwhile were still sprawled comfortably
on the couch and armchairs, completely oblivious to the emotional
upheaval going on around them.

Tommo had been
friends with Jack and Matt since grade eight and the three of them
had met the twins Micky and Samsa in the first year of uni. Tommo
was my favourite of the boys; I’d even had a major crush on him for
about six months in grade 10. Thankfully I got over that and nobody
except Simone knew about it. See, sometimes it is good that boys
are oblivious! Tom is Maori and, although he was born in Australia,
it’s fun to tease him about the faint New Zealand accent he
inherited from his parents. He has a shaved head, which he swears
lends him an aerodynamic advantage on the footy oval, dark brown
eyes and a penchant for tattoos. Maori symbols circle his upper
arms and are present across his shoulder blades in that greeny ink
that looks so good against dark skin. I may have moved past my
crush, but there was still no denying the boy was fine!

Micky and Samsa
are twins, but not identical. Micky hates me and the feeling is
entirely mutual. He once told me that when the boys were hanging
out they didn't need 'no f-ing chicks hanging around.' Misogynist
to the max that one. Despite his nasty personality Micky plays the
guitar beautifully, even I couldn’t deny it. Both him and Samsa are
shorter than the other three and have the same shade of blonde
hair, although Sam swept his up into a ridge along the centre of
his head with copious amounts of gel, whilst Micky left his hair
pretty well alone.

Sam is like his
brother in many ways, but his jokes are not malicious and he
doesn't have a problem with women at all as far as I can see. He's
usually too busy talking about sport to notice who he's conversing
with, male or female. He's the captain of the uni football team
which is where he and his brother met Tom, Jack and Matt. I've
always thought that he and Simone would make a good couple, but
there have been so signs of anything like that emerging yet.

Speaking of
Simone, as Matt and I re-entered the lounge room and settled
ourselves in front of the television which, for some unknown
reason, seemed to be playing an Italian movie without subtitles,
there was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," I
yelled wondering why Simone didn't just walk in like she usually
did. However, as a head of mousy brown hair poked through the open
door rather than Simone's strawberry blonde curls I realised it
wasn't my best friend. I suppressed a groan as I saw that, instead,
it was Haley who lived downstairs with her elderly aunt.

When I'd first
moved in I'd tried so hard to like this girl, but it was too ruddy
difficult! She always completely ignores me and gravitates
immediately to the boys. If she ever comes over and they're not at
home she immediately leaves, but if they're present she pretends
that we're the best of friends as an excuse for her continued
visits. I can't believe that Jack and Matt can't see straight
through her superficiality, but she's caught them hook, line and
sinker.

I personally
don't think she's much to look at, but she certainly has that wide
blue eyed, pink lips thing going for her although any girl could
tell at a glance that they were achieved by cleverly applied
make-up to make it seem like it was natural. Her light brown hair
was pulled back into a loose plait today and she wore a little
white pleated skirt with a loose, blue chiffony type top and white
sandals on her feet.

"Hello," she
said, smiling shyly (completely fake, I'm sure) around at the
tumble of boys surrounding me.

"Hiya, Haley,"
Matt grinned, pushing Tom off one of our squishy, patchy armchairs
with his foot to make room for her. Tom got up and promptly tipped
my brother's chair so he fell out and Tom settled himself in the
vacated spot. As you may have guessed, considering the amount of
people we have around, there are never enough chairs. I saw Matt
eyeing my bean bag and grabbed hold of it determinedly.

"Don't even
think about it," I warned him and Haley laughed prettily as if I
had just said something incredibly witty. Man she's annoying.

Just then the
door opened again and Simone bounced into the room, her grey eyes
sparkling. Seeing me she skipped over and threw herself down beside
me on the bean bag, making me rise up as the beans shifted.

"Hi all," she
grinned and the boys grunted at her like they did with me.

Jack finished
talking on the phone and, after bringing a kitchen chair over for
Haley, settled himself on the floor beside Matt, completing the
group. So there we were, the eight of us forming a sort of motley
friendship crew. In my opinion Haley didn't really belong, but the
boys had kind of adopted her so we were stuck with her.

We fell into a
companionable silence as we all watched the foreign movie and I
soon figured out that we were watching it because the Italian women
in the film seemed to have something against clothes and threw them
off at every opportunity. Still, it was oddly absorbing, especially
after the twins started adding their own commentary and the plot
began to revolve around a woman called Hotchick and her love of two
hunky men called Sam and Michael.

At one point in
the movie the love interest grabbed hold of Hotchick's hands and
gripped them tightly as the camera zoomed in. Unable to stop
myself, I glanced sideways at Jack and, as if he could sense my
gaze on him, he turned to look at me. Ever so slightly the corners
of his lips lifted up in a little smile and his warm eyes danced
with amusement.

Uh oh, there
were those damn tingles again…

Feeling my
cheeks beginning to burn I quickly got up, well as quickly as you
can get up from a beanbag, and hurried over to the kitchen.

"Anyone want a
drink?" I called out to give myself an excuse for virtually running
away from the group.

"Yeah, I'll
give you a hand," Jack said.

Oh crap! So
much for getting away from him.

Opening the
fridge, I grabbed a six pack and starting breaking the cans out of
their seals. I popped the tab to drink one myself, but Jack's hand
closed around the can and pulled it away from me gently.

"What?" I
hissed, annoyed. "I can have a beer; you're not teaching me at the
moment, are you?"

"Aren't I?" He
said in a low voice grabbing a couple of the other cans. Something
in his tone made me lean back against the counter and, observant
little bastard that he is, he saw the result of his words and
grinned widely.

"Lesson number
2, Tally," he murmured. "Sometimes no touching is necessary at
all."

To which I
could only reply, after I had a moment to collect myself, "Yes,
very educational, but not exactly the point."

He looked
amused and seemed like he was about to say something else when
Micky's voice suddenly intruded upon our little moment.

"Oi! Stop
whispering over there and bring us the bloody beers!"

Thank God the
Italian woman had taken off her top again, causing somewhat of a
distraction, because Jack and I looked distinctly guilty. We
quickly rearranged our features into pictures of innocence and
brought the drinks back to the group. It would have been fine if
only we'd thought to remember that naked breasts, on the whole,
only entrance males…

"Which in
absence of…" Yada, yada, yada…

I swear, if your job was to present information to students so
they could pass their exams and, hopefully, go out and make a
difference in the world would you deliberately make your lectures
as boring as possible? Well,
I
wouldn't, but, apparently, this view isn't shared
by my professors. You know that expression 'I can see your lips
moving, but all I'm getting is blah, blah, blah'? Well I never
realised how true that can be until I came to university. Even my
classes at high school weren't this bad because at least then we
were usually given something to do rather than just sitting
there.

I sighed
heavily and began doodling on the corner of my lecture notes. I say
notes, really it was just a load of gobbledegook that I'd scribbled
down so I wouldn't walk out of the lecture with nothing. Nope, I
would proudly walk out with notes that I wouldn't be able to read
tomorrow, brilliant.

The guy next to
me appeared to be asleep, lucky sod! As bored and tired as I was I
couldn't imagine just dropping off in the middle of a lecture. This
guy was either really tired or incredibly unselfconscious.

"In chapter 3
of the Australian Constitution Act 1901, the role of the judicature
is examined…"

Wow! I actually
heard each word distinctly then! I flipped the pages of my text
book to the part concerning chapter 3 of the Constitution and
looked to see what the lecturer was talking about. Unfortunately my
enthusiasm ended there. My focus drifted off again and I found
myself seeking out the clock, subsequently noticing we only had
fifteen minutes left of the lecture. So why did I know they were
going to be the longest fifteen minutes in history? I sighed again
and propped my chin up with my hands as I gazed, albeit
unfocusedly, at the lecturer.