So Much to Learn (9 page)

~*~

Emerging from
my room some time later I was disconcerted to find myself literally
running straight into Jack as he passed my door on his way to the
fridge.

"Woah there,"
he said, as if he was talking to one of the horses his dad trained,
putting out a hand to steady me.

I jumped as he
touched me and banged hard into my doorframe. His expression
clouded at my reaction and I could see he was about to ask me what
was wrong. Thankfully, at that moment, Matt wandered out of his
bedroom and Jack took one huge step away from me.

"Morning," Matt
yawned slumping down at the kitchen table. "God, I'm glad it's the
weekend."

"Yeah, me too," I agreed, skirting around Jack and joining my
brother at the table. I knew Jack must have thought my behaviour
bizarre considering
I
was supposed to be the one keen on contact, but the dreams of
the night before were still a little too fresh for me to brush
aside and so, for a little while at least, I preferred to keep my
distance.

"We should do
something tonight," Matt announced suddenly, lifting his head and
looking at Jack and I blearily. "Something to celebrate the end of
the week and the demise of Brad the bastard."

"Demise? Has
someone offed him then?" I asked glibly, trying to cover up the
fact that I had visibly winced at the mention of Brad's name. One
glance at the boys told me that they had indeed noticed my
reaction, but were pretending they hadn't to spare my feelings.
Bless 'em.

"I only meant
his demise in terms of his relevance to us," Matt said after a
beat. "To my knowledge no-one has actually killed him."

There was
another pause and then he added, "Not yet at any rate." At the
exact same moment that Jack growled,

"Give it
time."

I laughed and I
wasn't putting it on for the boy's benefit. I actually was feeling
OK about my break up. My response to his name had been an automatic
one, but on probing my emotional depths, I found that I still
didn't feel particularly upset about his cheating. It was the anger
that was still quite happily churning away.

"Do you have
any ideas?" I asked, and then, seeing the looks on Matt and Jack's
faces I added, "About going out, I mean, not about how to kill
Brad."

"Oh right."
Matt stretched then got up and gave Jack a nudge to get him out of
the way of the fridge. "I was thinking of going and seeing The
Wheelwrights, they have a gig at the uni bar tonight." He took a
gulp of orange juice straight out of the carton then headed for the
bread bin to pop two slices of bread in the toaster before turning
to face me. "I know you and Micky don't exactly get along, but-" he
began, but I waved my hand and cut him off.

"I was thinking
of going anyway," I yawned. "I met this guy, Adam, yesterday and
said that I might drop by."

"You met Adam?
He's a decent guy," Matt said, fortuitously turning away as his
toast popped up and, therefore, missing the odd look Jack sent
me.

I was
disconcerted to find that I couldn't figure out what the look meant
and so sent him a 'what?' look in return. I didn't get an
explanation, however, because Matt began to prattle on about how
we'd all go in a big group to support the band.

"Us three,
Tommo, Samsa, Simone, Haley, we'll all make a night of it."

~*~

And as my
brother had decreed, so it was.

I spent longer
than usual getting ready that evening. At first I told myself it
was because this would be my first night out after my break up with
Brad, but then admitted that it had to do with the fact that Jack
so rarely saw me looking nice. It would be good for him to see me
in something other than my pjs or uni clothes, I decided, it could
only help my cause.

Ah the things
we'll tell ourselves to escape the cold hard truth, which was, of
course, that after the dreams of the night before I'd begun to
realise what should have become blatantly obvious after my reaction
to a simple handshake. I’d realised Jack was hot and I wanted him
to see me that way too.

I wore dark
denim jeans with a subtly sparkly, deeply v-necked top in a
gorgeous royal purple colour. Well purple is the colour of kings…or
sexual frustration depending on which school of thought you hail
from. I tugged on my high heeled black boots and went for the smoky
eyed/neutral lips make-up effect. After mussing up my hair I was
ready and, if I do say so myself, not looking half bad.

The whole thing
took about three quarters of an hour to perfect, which is why I
nearly cried when, after spending five minutes in the bathroom,
Jack emerged looking hotter than anything I could ever create. Boys
suck! He wore a dark blue shirt and black jeans and I just know it
had taken him all of two seconds to decide that was what he was
going to wear.

"What?" He
asked, seeing my eyes narrow in annoyance.

"Nothing," I
sighed, grabbing my bag. "But, if anyone asks, you took longer than
me in the bathroom, alright?"

The seven of
us, Tommo, Samsa, Matt, Jack, Haley, Simone and I, met outside the
uni bar and payed our $5 student concession fee to get in.
Considering the amount of time Micky spent practising at our flat I
felt kind of cheated to have to pay to see him play, but then I
reminded myself that it wasn't him that I was there to see.

We arrived
about half an hour before The Wheelwrights were supposed to play
their set so we commandeered a large table up the back and based
camp. It felt like most of the uni had turned up, but that was
probably because the bar was quite a small one and everybody had to
press up against everyone else to make room. Despite the crowd,
people frequently battled their way over to say hello to us and I
would be lying if I said it wasn't a good feeling seeing how well
liked our little group was. When I noticed that hardly anyone said
hi to Haley, however, my enjoyment was somewhat tempered. I would
have thought that she had a circle of similarly obnoxious friends
who would come over to squeal with her, but she seemed almost
lonely even surrounded by so many people.

A few seconds
later, my sympathetic feelings towards Haley vanished as Jack,
clearly noticing her lack of visitors as well, turned his attention
to her. Her eyes lit up and she shifted closer to him, leaning her
head close to his in the pretence of listening to what he was
saying. Egh, she was such a fake!

Simone noticed
the direction of my glare and elbowed me. "Don't look so worried,"
she shouted above all the noise. "I bet he can see right through
her."

Annoyed at
having been caught staring at Jack - how well did that bode for the
future? - I tried my most nonchalant expression. "Worried?" I
shouted back. "Who's worried?"

She lifted her
eyebrows pointedly, but I was saved her scathing reply as The
Wheelwrights came on stage.

"How you all
doin'?" Micky yelled, taking up his position at the front of the
stage, his guitar hanging at his hip looking for all the world like
it was an extension of his body. The crowd screamed its response
and Micky struck the first chord.

They were not
bad at all. In fact they were pretty amazing.

Adam played
bass guitar, but, although I tried to focus on him as he was the
one I had come to see, it was their front man prancing all over the
stage that more often than not caught my eye. For all the hatred I
felt towards Micky, I couldn't deny that, on stage, he was a hell
of a charismatic guy. The crowd went nuts for him and even I found
myself shouting approval as he went into an all out rock and roll
guitar solo, complete with jumps and writhing on the floor. We were
all on our feet jumping with him and feeling the bass thumping in
our ribcages. It was an awesome gig.

When The
Wheelwrights finished their prescribed set everyone screamed for an
encore and Micky came back on stage alone, an acoustic guitar in
his hand. A bar stool was passed up and he settled himself down on
it before angling a microphone to catch the soft notes the guitar
rendered. A hush settled over the bar as the first few distinctive
notes of a ballad wavered out.

I loved the
song and found myself subconsciously swaying to it, forgetting for
the moment that the beautiful music was being played by misogynist
Micky.

Micky had just
started singing in his smooth, deep voice when I became aware of
someone standing beside me. I mean obviously there were people
standing very close to me on all sides as I was in a crowd, but
there was something different about this presence, it was solid,
but not intimidating, and very, very familiar.

I twisted my
neck round to look up at Jack, and his light blue eyes, their
startling colour visible even in the gloom of the bar, caught my
gaze and held it steadily. Then, under the cover of the hoards of
people crowding in around us, he put his arm around my waist and
rested his hand on my far hip.

For the briefest of moments I tensed, old habits die hard
after all, but then, as the warmth from his hand seeped through my
jeans and caressed my skin, I told myself to relax. There was no
pressure inherent in his touch, after all, it was the kind of
half-hug friends would share, and yet...I knew it wasn’t just a
friend thing. It was a guy’s touch Jack was teaching me about; the
touch that meant more,
forewarned
more.

After a couple
of minutes, once the first startle of his approach had passed, I
began to appreciate the feeling Jack's arm was giving me. I had
thought his handshake was good, but the feeling of being sort of
cradled against him was a million times more impressive.

It was as if my
body had sent all the nerve endings racing along to where his arm
and hand touched me and they were all jumping up and down in
interest at this new sensation. Almost without noticing I was doing
it, I leant in against Jack’s side, only just managing to stop
myself resting my head against his shoulder as, crowd or no, people
were going to notice that.

Well that was a
turn up for the books! One moment I'm freaked out the next I'm
stopping myself going further? This added up to be more progress on
the touchy, feely front in a few moments than I’d achieved since I
was fourteen! Feeling immensely satisfied with my apparent progress
I zoned out everything going on around me and immersed myself
totally in the music and being nestled against Jack. Which was why
I nearly jumped out of my skin as his weight shifted and he leant
down to talk to me.

"Are you OK?"
He asked. "Do the sheep need to be called in?"

For a moment I
had no idea what he was talking about, but then I realised he was
asking if he was moving too fast. Ha! I shook my head no and placed
my hand over his, keeping it at my hip in answer as moving to
whisper back into his ear might dislodge him and that was the last
thing I wanted to happen.

I will never
complain about crowds again. With so many people our closeness did
not look at all strange and the dark, along with further disguising
our contact, made the whole thing feel intimate, somehow. But all
good things must come to an end and, as Micky strummed out the last
few chords, Jack gave my waist a quick squeeze then, reluctantly I
felt, pulled away. I stumbled a little as he moved away from me and
I was sorely tempted to grab his arm and pull him back to me. This
wasn’t an option, however, the lights were coming up and people
were beginning to blink and look round for their mates. Talk about
reality kicking you in the nuts.

"Talia, weren't
they awesome!" I turned and saw Simone bounce over to my side, her
ringlets swinging and her eyes shining. She'd always been a sucker
for a good gig.

"Yeah, they
were," I said, trying to collect my thoughts together and appear
natural. "For all Micky's a knob I have to admit the boy can
play."

Simone grinned
and nodded, then set off towards the table we had previously
occupied, "Come on," she called over her shoulder as she went, "I'm
buggered, I need to sit down."

"Right behind
you," I promised, but instead of following her, I looked back at
Jack who was standing with his hands in his pockets watching me. I
had no idea what to say to him. Even though I'd never experienced
one, the moment seemed like a morning after a one night stand. We
had been so tucked into each other a few moments ago that now it
felt like there was really nothing to say. Except that something
needed to be said, otherwise we would stand there like idiots
forever.

"You OK?" Jack
asked, breaking the silence between us.

I nodded and
opened my mouth to explain that I’d had an incredible moment of
overcoming my phobia and that it was all thanks to him, but, at
that moment, Micky stepped between us, deliberately cutting me
out.

"Come on then,
Hammer, tell me I rocked your world," he demanded and the moment
was completely ruined.

I stalked back
to the table and threw myself down beside Simone who was happily
chatting away to Samsa. I leant back in my chair and scanned the
bar, noting that it had emptied somewhat since the end of the set.
The remaining crowd was settling in now for some serious Saturday
night drinking and socialising and their voices merged into one
loud rumble.

"Hey, Talia,
you came!"

"Holy-!" I
exclaimed, putting a hand over my wildly beating heart as a voice
bellowed in my ear. Looking up, I saw that it was Adam who had so
thoroughly startled to me and I gestured with my free hand for him
to take the spare seat next to me. "You scared the absolute
beejeebers out of me!"

"Sorry," He
apologised easily, settling himself down next to me. "How did you
like the gig?"