“Just one more,” she says, nodding in approval at her own words, like she’s a doctor administering a great medicine. “It will help you, believe me.”
I stare at her for a moment. She seems nervous this evening, I’ve seen her heave in a few deep breathes, just like she is doing now. I wonder if she’s jumpy about performing or …hold the phone, does she have the hots for Pop in return? She has shot a few glances his way and smiled and laughed at stuff he said, stuff that wasn’t even funny.
Her eyes narrow on mine and it all seems like her fortune lays on me for some reason. The aftertaste of the drink wasn’t so bad, and it didn’t seem to have any effect but to crucify my taste buds, cause involuntary eye rolling and warm my stomach, and Nat’s here…there’s enough people that will watch over me. He is not here.
I have said out loud, every morning, when I throw on my bra since we did the Fear Fire, that I will confront my fear. Nothing will happen. No one will take advantage of me if I let myself go a bit. My heart beats a little faster as I take the bottle and swig a gigantic gulp as if to shove that up Cayden’s chaffed butt. My eyes water instantly, and heat permeates through my entire body. A weird sensation unfurls through my head and my toes!
“Whoa, got a new mix that time,” I breathe out, blinking rapidly much to Irene’s delight. She seems happy and calm now, whereas I feel momentarily unsteady. She takes a conservative sip from the bottle and smooths her wig down.
“That is what is so cool about this drink! Every time is different. Oh, your eyes,” she points. I try to focus them thinking that she’d caught them rolling around like some unhinged cartoon character. But it’s only my makeup. The ladies move from ungluing Frank’s lick in my hair to my eyes to fix the damage to their creative work from my tears. Lucky, I don’t have a fascination with checking my reflection, their make-up palettes are decidedly very old school; bright glittery blues and greens and made from like a gel kind of substance that feels like I will need to get the trough brush out to remove. Whatever. It’s their night. I’ll deal.
“People are turning up, I’m going to man the donation bucket,” Sam grins in relief at the viable exit opportunity and moves to ruffle my hair before a slew of wrinkled hands slap at his, Gwen smacks him on the butt with a hoot! Sam’s face! He practically flies toward the door.
The nurses bustle over to see what the commotion is about, and I see Irene slide the bottle smoothly into her ‘costume’ bag like a pro. The nurses’ nerves have calmed a little since they first turned up, at first it was as if Dastardly Doreen had prepped them to expect twelve hundred psychos were about to attempt a hostile takeover on the patients… and their pays.
“Av!” D waves to me. I stand again and find I have to wait a few seconds for the dizziness to recede before stepping her way. A weird giggle escapes my lips unheeded.
Pop stops me halfway there. He raises an eyebrow at my eyes.
I shrug again, “I don’t want to look. Are you okay?”
His eyes narrow to chips of granite, “I’m fine as your bum crack and I don’t want to hear that question again, understood?”
I nod in understanding but start to giggle as Pop waddling around as giant, itchy bum crack assaults my vision maker; Pop has that mind over matter attitude, wish that was working for me right now. I can get where he is coming from, asking him constantly will make it harder for him to keep that up, but it’s frustrating because I’m worried. I just want to know. That worry slips through my neurological fingers and the bum crack vision reemerges.
He assesses me a while longer then lets his grey eyes wander over the growing crowd, “Are most of these people from the Hostel?”
My eyes take in the people milling around chatting. I note some of the bikers from the bar rock through the door and plonk a wad of cash into the donation bucket and a couple of musical instruments by the door behind Sam. Legends! I grin. “It’s a mix, them and the other hostel and their flamilies, families,” I repeat trying to get a hold of my floppy tongue, “and friendsss, I guessisis.” I wonder if I will sound like Sue by the end of the night.
My feet move toward D, but Pop holds each side of my face to stop me just as Nathan meanders to me side. I feel his arm against mine. I want to tell him about Pop being an itchy bum crack, but Pop’s voice prevents me. “I have a mission for you tonight, Avalon, listen up!”
My interest had strayed from bum cracks to see how the ‘drink’ was affecting Nathan, I hope he will find it funny as I do. My focus snaps back as I register Pop’s words and tone.
“Pop, are you sinking a medication heist or dumthing?” I ask eagerly, giggling again at the way my tongue is changing random things. Nathan moves in closer to, a strange smile playing on his lips. I giggle at that too. Bum crack.
“No,” he shakes his head, “we can do that later, but we have to do this other thing first. It’s a prime opportunity.”
I lose any attention he was holding after the word no and scan the room for Noah, I think back to the other night, being snuggled against his side and the time in the tent when he scratched my arm. “Mmmm,” I sigh.
“Avalon,” Pop groans searching out Nathan’s face for answers.
“She’s consumed some chill out beverage your girlfriend gave her,” Nathan smiles again. Pop actually blushes.
“Ha, it’s so true!” I sing. “You wuv Ire---,” Pop’s hand smothers my mouth.
“How much did she drink?” he asks flatly.
“Does it matter?” Nat shrugs. His words I’m here ring unvoiced.
“Oh, good Lord. Last thing we need. Well, I guess she’ll focus!” He blows out a long breath then refocuses on me. “I have a job for you, Avalon Smith, can you do it?” Pop uses a weird voice that causes me to stop trying to yell out to Irene.
“Soldier, attention!” Nat snaps.
I nod trying to suppress the giggles that are tickling my throat and then salute Pop.
He takes a deep breath, “Yes, I like Irene, she seems like a lot of fun and no you may not yell it out because I want to tell her myself, okay?”
I nod again, frowning at not getting to yell it out.
Grey eyes evaluate me for a good few seconds. “I’m going to take my hand away now,” he waits for an answer, so I nod again.
His hand lowers.
“Irene!” I yell. Nat laughs. Pop rolls his eyes.
“Before you run and tell her,” he says, “your mission. You must do the mission before you tell her, okay?”
“Alright. But is this a MM thing? Cause they suck!” I mumble under his direct gaze. Least my tongue is working again.
“I keep telling you, they won’t in the end, you’ll see, but yes, it is, and I need it done while we have this golden opportunity. You need this information in your brain. Try to remember every answer they give you. I want you to find out what these old folks were in their time, got it?” he stares at me waiting to see comprehension, I guess.
I tilt my head. “They were young people. Mission completed. Irene!”
His hand presses softly into my mouth again. Grrrr.
“Their job in the forces,” he snaps his fingers in front of my eyes dissolving Noah’s abs.
“Why?” I grump.
“Because it interests me,” he replies in his MM voice. “And it will give me something to think about during tests.”
“Whaaat? Go the low blow, MM,” Nat humpfs. “Soldier,” he turns to me, “just go take selfies with everyone like you’ve already been doing and ask them during the snapshot. Easy done. Then you can go tell Irene it’s on for tonight. Hope that she doesn’t put that wig over other places, it will really get Pop all wild. Hairy women. Woohoo!”
Pop smacks him across the top of his head.
no COMPARison
Seth
“I think thirty minutes will be an acceptable time to stay,” Kelsey murmurs as we walk hand in hand towards the hall where the Hostels’ patients are throwing their concert thing. I’m surprised to see there is a short lin
e out the front of the doors.
Kelsey has been quite sharp since the whole Avalon show hit the screens, she even bought up the fact that she was on the back foot because I hadn’t told her about the Hostel thing where we painted the games room. I had to remind her that was before she came, that I had no reason to bring that up at the dinner thing and she was damn well in on betting that Avalon she wouldn’t do it from the get-go. In fact, wasn’t it her idea? It’s not my fault she was drawn in by that innocent face, just like everyone else. It wasn’t my responsibility to warn her on her first meeting what lay beneath that exquisite façade. No one warned me. Deal.
Kelsey then proceeded to give me the silent treatment for around two hours. It was a painful experience getting back into her good books. I’m trying not to say anything that might accidently send me back to the doghouse. It made me wonder why I bothered to get into a relationship, wasn’t this what I had tried to avoid through my whole teenage life.
But she looks ravishing tonight and I’m happy to have her beside me. I’m dead sure her perfection is to show who really is the sensation around town, as much as to drive me crazy. The amount of time she took to create her look almost had me throwing myself against her ‘dressing room’ door in sheer boredom, I wished I had just gone for surf instead of trying to suck up.
I tear my eyes away from her as we finally move forward to enter the hall and let my eyes take in the scene. It is fricken chockers! I don’t know what I was expecting for an old people’s do but this is not it. There are people everywhere, even bikers! It smells amazing too, the divine waft of Sue’s food I would know anywhere. There is a donation bucket at the door, adorned with glitter and sparkles requesting money for musical instruments. It’s already over halfway full and there are a few instruments lying near the wall. The loot is guarded by none other than Sam whose eyes narrow in victory as he clocks our entrance. He hands off the bucket to an old guy I recognise from the Hostel but can’t remember his name for the life of me.
“Hey, Campbell,” he greets, something he has taken to calling me it seems. It irks me. It feels like he’s putting distance between us or something. He then turns to Kelsey, his eyes not wandering from her face even a centimeter to those lovely lady bumps swelling above her corseted top. “You got the money?” I swear he bites off whatever he was going to add on to that query. I ponder what name he wanted to address her by. Kelsey is beyond nice; I don’t understand what he has against her.
She opens her purse without a word and hands him a cheque. Her grace in defeat is charming as is her smile. Sam, however, doesn’t seem impressed by it.
“Where is Satan?” I ask peering around, glad that formality is out of the way. Luke was begging to come after he copped an eyeful of Av on the TV, but I didn’t think he’d want to come up against Reed after today. He’d have to be on the bloody killing edge. Luke was still keen to have a crack though until I told him the concert was being performed by geriatrics.
“Old birds are still probably fussing over her hair, apparently it was stiff as buggery from all the bull drool,” Sam half smiles, half grimaces at something, probably the germ factor. He’s a total germophobe. “So weird I can’t wait for this, hey?”
I go to answer that I never, ever thought I would be attending a concert performed by oldies and be wanting to stay to the end to see what happens. Hell. How one girl turned our lives upside down.
“How did you go in the exam today, Sam?” Kelsey asks though, like there was no tension between them a second.
Sam’s eye flick to her for a second before he shrugs, “I’m not really too worried either way.”
He seems genuine about that statement, I feel… jealous. I study him more closely. He seems relaxed now he has secured the cheque and the walnuts that normally fill out either side of his jaw are a no-show. There is something new to the way he is holding himself. I’m not sure I like it.
“We’ve got other events to attend, so we won’t be staying too long,” Kelsey informs him, not asking why he’s not worried, a question I sure want to voice. I really want to know was has gotten into him. “Good luck in the rest of your exams, they do mean so much to our futures,” she smiles at him.
By his reaction he takes her remark negatively because those walnuts reappear. I wish they’d just get over whatever it is and get along. I miss him.
Kelsey moves in her chosen direction and instead of weaving through chatting bodies, merely waits until people see her and move to accommodate her passage and when they do, she graces them with a disarming smile and a polite thank you. Many of the oldies plaster her with compliments. One lady from the other hostel reminiscences how her hair used to be so like Kelsey’s. Everything about Kels screams that she desires badly to leap back two steps as the lady lifts her hand towards those beautiful blonde locks, but to her credit she holds still as the papery fingers rake through her long curl.
With a long, steeling breath, Kels sets herself up on a high stool at the back, away from people that might fawn over her with rumpled hands and she beckons me when she’s positioned like a deity. I move toward her and know instinctively not to touch her now; just stand beside her. She’s had enough of touching. She fiddles with the placement of her hair.
“I can’t believe how many people are here,” I say gazing around at the assortment of bodies. The delicious smell tantalizes my hungry taste buds and I search for the source. Along the side of the hall is a small room with tables that seem to be laden with food. Joan, Dana and Gene, the ladies from the Divorce Club are bustling around, huge grins on their purposeful faces. I’m surprised to find it’s not only Sue’s cooking that resides on the tables. I remember Avalon saying, Joan, I think, missed the way her husband complimented her cooking and that Joan should maybe cook for others to gain pleasure. Good place to try it out, after what I’ve seen served at the Hostel, anything would seem gourmet. Her head won’t fit out the damn door.
“Please, babe,” Kels chuckles in that way that makes my mouth water. “I don’t think their calendars would be overflowing with RSVP’s.”
Least they have a new games room, I think suppressing a grin.
“Oh my,” Kelsey breathes out. “Isn’t that your cook?”
She points surreptitiously and I’m suddenly thrown back to numerous, painful experiences on the Naked Chef. Sue is in the nude, well apart from the cats and dogs apron. Oh God.
“Your mother is seriously going to die!” Kelsey gasps as Sue smiles and turns around to get something revealing her sparkly butt.
“Let’s just ignore this and understand that most people here are almost blind,” I sigh.
“Least they won’t see us leaving,” Kelsey giggles.
Av’s laughter chimes and I turn towards the sound. Holy crap. Someone has darkened around her eyes and done her hair like all straight and with a little beehive thing on top. The ends almost touch her butt. She looks incredible, even in a choir robe. Incredible but somehow extra mischievous. Instead of envisioning her body underneath there, my brain takes a detour and imagines how many knives she could be packing.
“Do you own a knife?” I ask Kelsey without meaning to.
She graces me with a ‘have you gone senile’ look, “You’ve used our knives in the kitchen, Seth.”
I don’t elaborate what I meant, knowing the answer. I’m not sure if I feel relief or disappointment at the knowledge.
Av is chatting to everyone she passes, hugging or joking with them. They finger her hair without abandon. My mouth goes dry again as I recall her TV debut and how much I would have loved to slip my fingers through that wet hair. As she continues to roam through the crowd she stops and snaps selfies on a long stick with whoever she talks to. Her posse move among the crowd too, chatting happily. D, Lucy, Tina and Wade and Jaime all are smiles. D, in fact, looks very busy, pulling costumes out of a bag for people as Chops, I’m guessing from Av’s descriptions of her photos, walks behind her taking notes. I try not to grimace when he turns his face.
>
“What in…” Kelsey gasps in Chops’ direction. “He is hideous!”
“He’s apparently one of the nicest people,” I tell her with a raised eyebrow.
She shivers violently. “Disgusting. I feel like leaving to go vomit everything I’ve eaten today.”
“Av loves him so I’m guessing you get used to it,” I say frowning myself as the large man smiles at something D says to him. He hands her a measuring tape and takes note of whatever she has asked him to. Jaime ribs him in the side and he grins wider which does in fact make my stomach feel queasy. I look away.
Kelsey bestows on me an incredulous look. “Avalon loves a cow. I seriously doubt any normal person would get used to that view even if he were some saint reincarnated.” She trembles again and takes out her phone.
“Don’t take a photo of him,” I warn. A strange instinct that Avalon would go ballistic if she posted him wraps around my bones.
“Oh gross,” she grimaces. “I wouldn’t want that on my phone.”
She turns her attention on to her screen checking her Instagram likes by the look of it.
My sights return to Avalon, now laughing with a massive biker who has her tucked under his arm. She peeks through his beard like she is hiding from someone. He is grinning ear to ear as another moves his way to join in their conversation. She hugs him.
“Seth,” Kelsey’s firm voice hits me like she’s been trying to garner my attention for a good while and I go to swing back to her but not before I clock Reed himself enter the hall, his eyes immediately searching and then alighting on an animated Satan still playing in the bikie’s beard. She has now plaited her hair and his beard together. Reed appears tired, and I choke back a snicker at his fate today. How he must feel.
While Kels is hitting the same hotness ranking as Av they are so, so different; Kels keep herself aloof; untouchable but desirable and full of charm and politeness, and I know she would never, ever bring bad press to herself by being untoward, whereas Avalon talks with pretty much the last people you think she should and throws caution to the wind in nearly every situation you could imagine. It’d be stressful, not knowing people’s motives or what the hell your girlfriend was going to do or do it with. At least I know Kelsey is all about achieving her goal and that everything she does is reserved and thought out. With Avalon, you just never know. I’d be a mess, I try to reassure myself, because the little niggling voice has started to remind me how much fun it is to be around someone like Av, how alive you feel. But alive isn’t always conducive to goals. I nod at my own mature thoughts. I got this.
Avalon Expandable Heart: The Wild Heart Series Page 48