by Sarah Delany
“Thanks for coming. I won’t admit it to mum but I was a bit anxious when she said she was going out and I thought I would be home by myself,” she tucks a piece of wet hair behind her ear as she talks. I take her hand in mine, bringing her frail hand to my lips and lay a gentle kiss on the back of her knuckles.
“It’s our pleasure,” I tell her, while keeping eye contact.
“Thanks for the note too,” she says, lowering her eyes to the ground; I see the pink on her cheeks deepening to a red. Instinctively, I grab her chin and raise it gently, so I can look into her eyes.
“It’s the truth,” I tell her adamantly, hoping my message gets through to her. I catch the twinkle in her eye as if tears are going to flow but she pushes them back, trying to accept what I said as truth. I myself, know how hard it is to believe the good someone else sees in you, when you can no longer see it. Wanting her in my arms, I release her chin and pull her into my embrace and she comes willingly. Tucking her head into my chest, I hold her there as we breathe each other in, releasing her once we have both had our fill.
We pull apart as I hear Scott yell from upstairs, “Tate, could you help us up here?” I turn away from her and bound up the stairs to help the guys finish with the room. Walking into her room, I’m blasted with her scent again. I inhale deeply. It may sound weird but her scent relaxes me. It makes me content, like I’m coming home, whenever I enter her room. I’ve never experienced this before. Especially not with someone’s scent.
As we are putting the final touches on the room, Tanya comes in, informing us she’s leaving.
“I won’t be back too late, I don’t think,” she says, as we follow her downstairs to the front door. “Don’t forget to order some dinner.” She leans into Tamsyn giving her a kiss goodbye on her cheek, leaving us in the lounge as she departs for the night.
“What do you guys wanna eat?” Tamsyn asks us.
“Chinese?” Rafe suggests, and we all agree as no one else has any other ideas to offer. Rafe must eat a lot of Chinese food as he has the takeaway on speed dial. We yell out our orders to him and he manages to order it all, without taking a breath. Rafe and JP leave to pick it up. It’s the local takeaway store and is situated in the small group of shops, a few streets away from Tamsyn’s place.
Tamsyn reaches up on her tippy toes, opening a cupboard above her head. I’m stuck in a trance, watching as her singlet rides up and I’m granted with a peek of the dimples on her lower back. My brain short circuits and my body takes over, moving me straight towards her. My hands are in control, they have to touch those dimples. I hear her intake of breath as I press up behind her and grasp her hips, touching her skin that showed itself to me. Holding on to her hip, I let go with one hand to grab the glasses for her she was struggling to reach. Pinning her against the cupboard, she can’t move while I slowly lower one glass and then get another down. Once I’ve got five glasses sitting on the bench, I let go of her and step back, her touch lingering on me. She slowly turns around and rests her hands on the bench behind her, smiling at me.
“Thanks for your help,” she says, which has me smiling in return.
“Ahem,” we turn our heads to Scott who is standing to the side, fake coughing at us. “Ummm I think you two forgot I’m still here,” he says, holding his laughter in. We all laugh together at the awkward situation because he’s right, I did forget he was there. Whenever I’m around Tamsyn, I end up with tunnel vision and she is all I can see, while the rest of the world fades into the background.
It isn’t long until JP and Rafe return, carrying enough food to feed a small army. As they unload the food onto the kitchen bench, Tamsyn grabs some plates and we all start piling food onto them. Picking and choosing what we want. There’s wontons, dumplings, chow mein, fried rice, honey chicken and Mongolian beef. All the guys are busy loading their plates up when I notice Tamsyn’s plate. All she has on hers is a few lonely looking wontons and some fried rice.
“Here, pass me your plate, Sweetness,” I say to her, with my hand outstretched. She reluctantly hands it to me with a sigh, knowing I will add more food. She needs to start eating more as she is wasting away, before my eyes. “Do you care what I put on here?” I ask and she shakes her head. I go ahead and add a couple of dumplings, some chow mein and some honey chicken. Not too much food but more than the inadequate amount she had.
“Thanks Tate,” she says, as I hand her now fuller plate back to her. We all move to the seats at the kitchen table, and start digging in. Tamsyn passes the glasses out after she fills each with some lemonade.
Everybody is too busy eating to talk, all you can hear is our munching and chewing in the quiet kitchen. I direct my gaze to Tamsyn quickly, to make sure she’s eating. She’s finished off her fried rice and is starting on the dumplings. Satisfied, I dig back into my own food and find the guys are gobbling theirs up, like they are in a race to see who can finish first. It doesn’t take us long to finish off our plates. Scott collects all our empty dishes, except Tamsyn’s as she’s still eating, and he takes them to the sink and rinses them. He then loads them into the dishwasher.
“So what do you guys wanna do now?” Scott asks.
“I’m keen to chill with some movies,” JP says, and Rafe agrees. I’m not fussed with what we do. Being close to Tamsyn will be enough for me.
Once Tamsyn finishes her food and rinses her plate, putting it in the dishwasher alongside our plates, we all head upstairs to her room. The boys fight to get their coveted spots and settle in for some movie watching.
“I’m choosing the movie,” Rafe yells, as he snatches the remote off JP and flicks through, until he finds the one he wants to watch.
“You can’t be serious?” Scott says, from where he’s snuggled under his blankets on his mattress.
“What?” Rafe asks, bewildered.
“It’s a romance. I didn’t take you for the romance type of guy.”
“He’s a closet romantic,” JP chimes in, laughing as he mocks his best friend.
“Shut up, I like Kiera Knightley. She’s smokin,” Rafe says, as he pushes play on Love Actually. Tamsyn pulls the covers back and hops in, scooting to the far side. She leaves the blankets folded open for me to lie next to her. I hop in and as soon as I cover us, she moves straight to my arms to cuddle; right where she belongs.
She drifts off to sleep instantly. I wish I could sleep soundly like her. My thoughts always keep me awake. They bang around in my head like bumper cars, making my head throb and it’s impossible to sleep for any length of time. The boys’ laughter has me telling them to keep quiet so as not to wake Tamsyn. She must be exhausted to have fallen asleep so early. It’s not eight o’clock. I can’t focus on the movie, not when I have this wounded angel in my arms. I still want to help her, to fix her but I don’t know how, when I can’t fix myself. How long am I going to keep pretending I’m okay? I can’t keep living on the small amount of sleep I get each night. I’m not living, I’m barely surviving. I have cut my running down because I don’t expect to find the broken girl by the dock anymore. It was a strong motivator to get me running at night. I’ve given in to lying in bed for hours on end, until my eyes get too heavy to keep them open anymore.
“Do you want to pick the next movie?” I hear Rafe say my way.
“Nah, you guys pick another one,” I tell them, realising I missed the whole movie. I didn’t get to make fun of Hugh Grant, doing his silly dance thanks to being zoned out and stuck in my head. Tamsyn stirs, probably waking from the sound of my voice.
“Is the movie over already?” she says sleepily.
“You slept through the whole thing,” I inform her. That has her sitting up, wiping her eyes, then stretching her arms over her head as she yawns.
“I’ll stay up for the next one,” she tells me, as she piles the pillows behind her trying to get comfortable in a sitting position. I do the same and put my arm around her should
ers, bringing her into my side. She rests her head on my chest and slides her arm across my waist. “What are you putting on?” she yells down to the guys.
“Since romance puts you to sleep, how about we put on an action?” JP suggests. His ulterior motive is he loves action movies. I doubt anyone could sleep through all the loud gunshots and car crashes bound to happen on screen.
“How about Aliens? I love it,” Tamsyn says.
“Yes! Sigourney Weaver is such a badass,” JP says. “I’ll run and grab snacks too. Tate, you want to help me? he adds.
“Sure,” I say, jumping out of my comfortable spot, to race down the stairs with him to the kitchen. We open cupboards until we come across the snack stash and grab enough, we are struggling to carry it upstairs. We unload on the guys makeshift beds and they plough in, grabbing what they want. “You want anything, Sweetness?” I ask, over my shoulder.
“Salt and Vinegar chips if there’s any,” she says, from under the covers. I spot a packet and throw it to her, as I grab a bag of chocolate fish to munch on. I walk back to the bed, jumping over the guys mattresses as I go. When I get to my side of the bed, I unzip my jeans and step out of them. I was already too uncomfortable lying in the bed with them. I don’t think I would get any sleep at all if I had to wear them. I have boxers on, so it’s not like I’m naked.
Rafe sees me taking my jeans off so he stands up and takes his shorts and t.shirt off and then the other two follow suit. All getting comfortable and settling in for the night. Before I’m about to get into the bed, I see Tamsyn biting her lip and looking me up and down. Something in my brain explodes and before I can stop myself, I grab my shirt and pull it over my head and chuck it onto my discarded jeans. Tamsyn’s eyes widen and plant themselves on the T.V. I have a feeling she didn’t want to get caught, ogling my naked torso. I climb back into bed and lean against the pillows but she doesn’t come cuddle me like she was before. She’s stiff straight against her pillows and avoiding my eyes. I reach my hand under the blanket and hook my fingers into the side of her sleep shorts, pulling her towards me. She lets out a small yelp which has me chuckling.
“Come here Sweetness, it’s skin. Nothing to be scared of,” I tell her, as I place my arm over her shoulders again. She finally stops resisting and places her head on my now naked chest and slowly moves her hand across my torso, exploring and getting braver with every moment. She draws little circles on my side and it’s so relaxing, it’s the last thing I remember before I fall asleep.
Chapter 18
---Tamsyn---
Pain slices into my wrist and it has me waking up out of my dreamless sleep. Heat under my cheek distracts me and I am disoriented for a second, then I remember Tate. The pain in my wrist worsens and I realise Tate has a firm grip on it and is squeezing. I can feel his body thrashing beside me, like he’s trying to break free from something.
“Quinn,” he says, through clenched teeth. “Don’t go.” I can hear the hurt in his voice. He must be having a nightmare. When I catch a glimpse of his face in the dark, I see tears coming from his eyes and my heart breaks for him. I start pushing at his side.
“Tate! Wake up!” I whisper yell at him, not wanting to wake the others who are snoring away on the floor. His grip on my arm loosens enough, I can shake his fingers off but he’s still asleep. Now he’s whimpering. I have to wake him up but I don’t know how. Hoping this will work, I climb on top of him and wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my head into the curve of his throat. “Come on Tate, Wake up,” I plead with his sleepy figure. His body takes a few more moments but he calms himself, his breathing evening out. His arms wrap around my body, pressing me against him tighter.
“Sweetness?” he whispers, not understanding why I’m lying on top of him. I pull my head from his neck.
“You were having a nightmare, I didn’t know how else to wake you up,” I tell him
“Sorry. Did I scare you?” he asks, sounding shaken.
“I’m fine. Do you remember what you were dreaming about?” I ask, wondering what could have tormented him so badly.
He hesitates for a moment and I don’t think he’s going to answer, but then he sighs and says, “Will you come downstairs with me? I don’t want to wake the guys.”
I get out of bed, reaching my hand to him. He shuffles over the bed to get off and grips my hand, as we creep out of the room quietly. I take him to the lounge and we sit ourselves down on the couch. We sit side by side but then Tate bends down and lifts my legs up and over his lap, so I lean back and wait for him to talk.
“Did I say anything in my sleep?” he asks me, shyly. I have a feeling he knows he did. Has this happened before?
“You said ‘Quinn’. Does that mean something to you?” I ask. He bends his head, his shoulders slouching forward. His whole demeanor changed with that one name. It broke him. Who is this Quinn?
“She’s my sister. My twin, to be exact,” I barely hear him whisper. My eyes widen in surprise because I didn’t know he had a sister, let alone a twin. I don’t say anything, wanting him to gather his thoughts and tell me what he needs to, in his own time.
He draws in a deep breath and says, “Do you sometimes wonder why I was so drawn to you? Why could I see your pain when no one else did?”
My breathing picks up and with a shaky voice I say, “I wondered but I didn’t know why.”
“It’s because I see my sister in you. I see her pain in you. It’s the emptiness in your eyes sometimes mirrors hers. Or the tears waiting to be shed but you hold back.” He’s talking so quietly, I can hardly hear him. It’s as if he’s scared to voice what he’s kept inside for so long. I don’t want to distract him so I sit still, waiting for him to continue and listen. “Unlike your pain which I’m trying to heal, I ignored hers. I didn’t think she was serious when she said she was sad all the time. She stopped doing activities she once enjoyed and hanging out with her friends but I didn’t think it was anything to worry about. I thought she was fighting and having drama with her friends. She tried to talk to me once and I told her to get over it, it couldn’t be that bad.” He’s rambling now letting his mind drift back to memories of her. “She tried to talk to me about it another night, and again, I blew her off. I told her I was too busy and was going to see my friends, and I would talk to her later. Then I left for the night.” He lets out a huff and trembles under my legs. I slide my legs off the couch, go sit next to him and hold his hand in mine.
“Whatever it is Tate, let it out. You’ve held it in for too long,” I tell him because I can see whatever it is, is eating away at him. I can hear the guilt dripping off his words.
“My mum found her later on that night. She had taken a whole bunch of pills. She was rushed to hospital and they pumped her stomach but the damage to her brain was already done. She’s been in a coma ever since.” He breaks down and cries, letting the tears run freely down his face. I crawl onto his lap and wrap myself around him, holding on tight trying to soothe him.
“Shh, let it out,” I tell him, as I hold his shaking body.
Through his tears he manages to say, “She’s been in a coma for a few months now and if she does wake up, they think her brain will be too damaged to function at all.” I continue to hold him tightly, not sure how else to comfort him. He’s always appeared so strong to me but he’s as broken as I am inside.
“If she’s in a coma, then why are you here? Didn’t you want to stay with her?” I ask him the question nagging at me, not understanding why he is here now.
“My parents sent me here because I wouldn’t leave her hospital room. The first time I saw her in her hospital bed, I clutched my chest, it hurt so much. I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was having a heart attack. It wasn’t until I sat down with Dr. Lawson and he explained I had experienced a panic attack. He said my fear of losing Quinn was so intense, my body didn’t know what to do. He gave me some techniques to try which usually he
lp. From that day on, I slept on the chair beside her bed. This went on for weeks before my parents put their foot down. They said it wasn’t healthy and some space from the situation would be good for me. Hence why they sent me to stay with my aunt and uncle and JP,” he says, as he wipes a hand down his face, clearing away the recent tears.
“Is there any chance she will wake up from the coma and be alright?” I ask.
“There’s always hope. I’m praying for a miracle,” he says sadly. He raises his eyes to mine and I’m shocked by the pain I see laced in them. I never noticed it before but it’s there. I’ve been so caught up in my own head and pain, I never recognised the signs. You can see on his face something is clearly plaguing him, and the panic attacks were another sign. How wrong could I be? Tate was right. His pain helped him see a kindred spirit in me and helped bring us together.
With his whole hand, he smooths the hair on my head and tucks it behind my ear, never breaking eye contact. He brings his full lips to my forehead, and holds them there in a gentle kiss. My eyes close of their own accord, relishing the feel of his lips on me.
He slowly pulls back and says, “Thanks for listening to me Sweetness. I guess I was drowning
inside, as badly as you were.”
“No need to thank me, it’s what best friends are for. Anytime you want to talk about Quinn or about how you’re feeling, I’m here,” I say, as I lift my shoulder in a shrug like it’s no big deal.
As he’s staring at me, it’s like he can see into my soul. I’ve never known anyone who could make me feel like this with a simple look. My arms are still wrapped around his neck but there’s space between us, so we can look at each other. A shift in the air sends goosebumps along my skin and I remember he is sitting there, without his shirt on. His taut body calls out to me to be touched. Without breaking my stare, he brings a hand up to my face and tugs on my bottom lip, releasing it from my teeth. I didn’t know I was nibbling on it. He holds my chin between his fingers and I try to swallow the butterflies down threatening to escape from my stomach. He leans in, my eyes close and he presses his warm mouth to the corner of mine, out of reach of where I want them. He pulls away to gauge my reaction. He must like what he sees because a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.