She shrugged as she took it. “What? I don’t like to share my stash.”
“Is that a ‘you don’t like to share your stash because it’s too intimate and gives people the wrong idea’ or a ‘you only share with me because I already gave you a serious case of the cooties back in Year Five’?” I asked.
It was her turn to splutter a laugh. “How is sharing a smoke more intimate than hooking up?”
I shrugged. “Dunno, but sharing shit other than bodily fluids seems a little more relationship-y to me.”
“I am not discussing relationships with you, Drake. You wouldn’t know a relationship, platonic or otherwise, if it dick-punched you.”
“Firstly, of course, I would. What are we, if not platonic? And, secondly, in that case, we can move onto what really has you lighting another smoke?” I said pointedly as she did so.
We weren’t often so direct with each other, but sometimes the occasion called for it.
“Firstly, we hate each other if I remember correctly. And, secondly, I told you, I’m fine,” she responded shortly.
“I don’t hate you, Lei. You know that when you’re not being a dick. But, I do hate this. I hate that you keep yourself so closed off. You ever thought Coop might make a good boyfriend if you gave him a chance?” I caught her look of disbelief, but wasn’t sure if it was because I was advocating a relationship or because I was advocating Coop. “Okay, fine, not Coop. But, someone. Not Luke either,” I said quickly, “but someone. God, doesn’t even have to be romantic. What the hell is so wrong with love, Lei, that you’ll barely even give it to your family?”
“I love my family,” she said, her voice cold.
I sighed. “From a distance, Lei! Fuck, seriously, it’s like the only person you won’t keep at a distance is me, and that’s only so you can hate me closer and more conveniently.”
Her face was hard. “Yeah, well maybe if you found yourself some morals in that shitstack you call a soul, I wouldn’t have reason to hate you.”
Okay, to a degree, that was fair. I kept people about as close as she did and I wasn’t exactly discerning about who I spent my time with. But, she was a good person, she deserved more, and–
“Oi! My soul is not a shitstack!” I snapped, finally registering all her words.
Her arms were crossed. “Yeah, tell that to Phoebe. The blinkers came off tonight, Cas. You may not find her quite so welcoming on Monday.”
“Keep on the way you are, Granger, and Coop won’t be either. At least, I don’t care what Phoebe thinks of me.”
“Like I care if Coop’s up for a hook up or not.”
“But, if you don’t, how will you pay for your weed?”
Her palm smacked across my cheek audibly and I knew I deserved that. She wasn’t some crack-addicted whore, paying for drugs with a quick snog. Hell, I didn’t even know if she smoked that stuff – I’d never seen it.
But, this always happened.
I tried to be open and honest and just…be there for her, and I fucking ruined it.
Every time.
And, if it wasn’t me ruining it, it was her.
“Just get out, Cas,” she sighed, too angry even to yell at me.
Wishing to all that was holy that I could take it back and having no idea how, I left to go keep an eye on Brett.
Chapter Six
Lani
Thankfully, I missed him on Saturday. So, I didn’t have to see him until the four of us went around to the Drakes for dinner on Sunday night.
I felt starchy in my stupid lavender dress, matching coat and nude heels. But, it was easier to keep Mum happy and wear what she liked me in. And, really, it actually made little difference to me in the long run what I put on my body. And, it was all in my head; the dress was plenty comfortable.
Actually, if I was honest, it was seeing Casper after he called me a prostitute that was niggling at me. And, look, I had nothing against the oldest profession in the world. If you want to bump fuzzies for money, then power to you; you probably think little of my aspirations to maybe be a choreographer. But, when a life-long friend (if you could even call him that) calls you a prostitute during a fight – and when he doesn’t even know you’ve popped your cherry – you can be sure he meant nothing good by it.
I fidgeted as we waited by the door – just because our cellar-thing was connected didn’t mean we just usually waltzed between houses – and I looked at Brett. He wore a long-sleeved shirt, but it was cold this time of year, so it wasn’t actually any indication he’d done anything reckless.
Just over-reacting, he’s been fine.
And, it was true. Whatever happened on Friday had been weird, but I guess no more weird than usual drunk Brett.
“Hello!” Betty cried as she opened the door with a huge smile.
She and Mum hugged like they always did; like they hadn’t seen each other in a million years. Then, as we filed in, Betty hugged each of the rest of us too.
“New dress, hun?” Betty asked me as she took my coat and hung it in the coatroom. Why had I worn a coat to go next door? No idea, it just went with the outfit.
I looked down. “Ah…” I looked to Mum, who nodded. “Yeah…new.”
Betty grinned at me, knowing how much I loved clothes. “Well, you look lovely anyway. Beer, John?”
“Thanks, Bet, love one,” Dad replied, following her and Mum to the dining room.
“White, Georgie?” she asked Mum. Mum, of course, nodded.
“Oh, Lani, can you go down and grab a red, please, sweet?” Paddy called as I started to follow them.
“No worries,” I replied and made my way to the cellar stairs.
“Dad, ask her when she’s just in the door, why not!” Casper yelled as he jogged down the main stairs and walked towards me.
“Go with her then, Mister Chivalrous,” his dad yelled back.
“I am!”
I couldn’t help but smile as I preceded Casper down to the cellar. He and his dad yelled at each other constantly and it sounded to the untrained ear that there was no love lost there, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth.
“What?” Casper asked, flipping on the light switch.
“Nothing,” I replied, trying to hide my giggle.
“I can be chivalrous when I want.”
“Sure you can, you just never want.”
As I walked towards the middle-ground reds section of the extensive cellar, I looked around. As I perused the offerings on the shelf, Casper grabbed my hand and pulled me to face him. I was caught off-guard at how close our faces were; the shoes were new too.
“Lei–” He looked down, then back up. “Shit, you’re taller than usual…”
“Wow, okay, thanks,” I huffed. “Good talk.”
He stopped me when I went to turn back to the bottles. “No, sorry. It’s weird, but I…” He took a deep breath. “I wanted to apologise, Lei.” I knew something big was coming; the expression on his face was as serious as the dead. But, before I could say anything, he held up a hand. “Shut up, let me finish before I get side-tracked and fuck up again. I’m sorry for what I said on Friday. You’re not a whore paying for drugs with hook ups. I mean, it could be seen like that but– Ah, fuck it, not again.” He looked so contrite, I couldn’t help but smile; he’d tried and that was all I could ask.
I put a hand on his cheek. “Cas, it’s fine. I mean, you have some serious making up to do, but I forgive you.”
He paused. “Making it up like how?”
I laughed and pushed him playfully. “Yeah, not like that.”
“Then, how?” he asked, his grin showing me he couldn’t help but have asked.
I shrugged. “I dunno, you’ll think of something.”
He looked annoyed and pensive. “I might have already.”
“Right. What is it?” This would no doubt be good.
“I may need to acknowledge your superior choreography skills and beg for your help?” he said slo
wly and I knew it cost him a lot to admit that.
I may just forgive him after all.
“Is that so? Help with what?” I asked.
“My final piece.”
I blinked, having totally not expected that. I’d thought maybe a piece for our extra-curricular dance teacher, Miss Cami? But his final piece…
Casper had to create a piece for Year Twelve Dance and perform it at the end of the year at the school showcase. It was one of his biggest weighted assessments and not something I should be stuffing around with. Although, having said that, I was entirely the better choreographer. Worse dancer, but better choreographer.
“Why does it feel like you’re winning if I say yes?”
Casper’s smile was one of self-consciousness and sincerity for once. “Come on, Lei. I’ll have to admit to the whole school you’re better than me at something. It hardly gets any better than that!”
I sighed. While it would be great if Casper did indeed have to admit I was better than him at something, I was still helping him. Then again, if he managed to shove his pride away for long enough to ask for help, maybe he really thought he needed it? And, who was I to not help a Drake?
“Fine–”
I couldn’t continue as Casper had picked me up and swung me around practically squealing ‘thank you’ over and over. I thumped him on the back.
“Put me down, bitch!” I tried to sound severe, but I couldn’t help laughing.
Finally, he put me down and I found him looking at me with more gratitude than I’d seen on his face in years. Part of me knew I’d regret saying yes, another part was actually seriously flattered he’d asked for my help, and yet another part knew I never could have said no.
“What are you thinking of?”
“Probably a pas de deux?”
I nodded, thinking through his school classmates. “Okay, with who?”
“Not you?” he replied, and I wasn’t sure if the question was him checking I didn’t want to or whether it was okay he wasn’t thinking of me.
“Cute. No.” I shook my head. Last thing I needed was to perform with the Year Twelves at their final showcase.
He paused, scrunching up his face and waving his head around, and I knew I wasn’t going to like the answer. “Natalie…”
I hung my head back and felt like throttling him. I liked Natalie, but her style was so not mine. But, they danced well together so I’d just have to deal. “Great, okay. Let the record state I don’t like this, but I will help. Music?”
He said nothing and I looked back at him to find him grinning hugely. “I’ll show you tomorrow? You have a free after lunch, yeah?” he asked and I nodded. “Sweet, can you meet me at Dance?”
“Fine.” I held up a hand to keep him at bay. “But, I’m choosing the wine!”
He chuckled and followed me around the cellar like his usual annoying self. Only, this time, I could feel the energy coming off him in waves. Which really didn’t help me convincingly pretend I was angry with him. Since, as usual, I couldn’t actually be angry with him for long. Sure, I still hated pretty much everything he stood for, but he was as familiar to me as my family and it’s just so damned hard to stay angry with someone so close.
Trust me; I’ve tried.
By the time we got back up to the dining room, I wasn’t convinced I’d actually chosen the bottle that I was now trying not to drop as Casper whirled me into the room, both of us laughing. Well, him laughing and infecting me with it.
“You two are in a good mood.” Paddy smiled as Casper stopped turning me long enough that I could pass his dad the wine.
I laughed as Casper replied, “Well, I am. Lani’s just agreed to help me with my final piece. She’s really only happy by lack of choice.” He beamed down at me as he stopped us in a dip.
“Yes, you’re very lovely. Let me up,” I muttered as Betty cried, “that’s wonderful, hun. Thank you! He’ll need all the help he can get.”
“Too right,” Brett chuckled and I saw Emma nodding while my parents exchanged a small smile.
“Hey! I’m not that bad!” Casper almost dropped me, but pulled me to stand just before gravity took hold.
Betty clucked her tongue. “You’re a lovely dancer, darling. But, Lani’s the choreographer.”
Casper gave me a teasing look. “They totally wish they’d had two girls.”
“I doubt being a girl would make you a better choreographer, Cas,” I replied, trying to hide a smile as I took my seat.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t get away from him since he sat next to me. “Oh, you’re cruel,” he said with a wry laugh and a shake of his head as he joined the rest of us at the table.
“But, you need me,” I retorted and I saw something flash in his green eyes.
“That I do, Lei, that I do,” was all he said as we got started on dinner and Brett took over his attention from his other side.
“It’s the big one isn’t it?” Paddy asked after a while, always forgetting about things when it came to dance; he was super supportive, but it wasn’t really his thing.
We all had our set places, whether we were at the eight-person square table at the Drake’s or the one at ours; the parents of the house took the head of the table, mums sat next to mums and dads sat next to dads, Casper and I got the butt of the table, Brett sat on Casper’s other side, with Emma between me and Mum. I don’t really remember how the seating came about, but it had been long enough ago that there’d been an occupied seat between Brett and Dad once.
I dragged my mind from sad things and nodded to Paddy. “It’s his last big dance assignment for school.” I was going to continue with ‘before they fail him’ but thought better of it.
“And there’ll be a lot of people?”
“A lot of people will come and watch – like usual – but there’ll probably only be two of us dancing,” Casper answered.
Paddy nodded. “Well, I always like to see you and Lani dance together, son.”
Casper threw me a look and I answered, “Oh, I’m not dancing with him, just helping him with his chorie.”
“Oh… Who are you dancing with?” He turned to Casper.
“Well, I have to ask her. But, hopefully a girl in my class called Natalie,” he replied as he poured me a wine.
Paddy nodded again. “So, you like this Natalie better than our Lani, then?”
I almost spit out said wine and heard Casper choke a little on his food. Our mums and my dad had been talking among themselves and Emma and Brett hadn’t seemed to be paying much attention, but every pair of eyes now turned to Casper to see how he was going to wrangle out of this one. I could barely keep my smirk off my face. He looked over and saw it, frowning at me in annoyance before he turned back to his dad.
“No, course I don’t. You know Lani’s my best girl. But, she doesn’t want to dance in the Year Twelve showcase–”
“Why not?” Paddy looked at me.
I shrugged. “The Year Twelve girls are…dedicated,” I said, trying to be as diplomatic as possible. “I don’t really feel like I belong there and some of them agree.”
Paddy scoffed, “But, Miss Cami says you’re one of the best. You’d dance circles around them.”
I couldn’t help but smile at such glowing belief and trust from him. “I know. But, think of Year Eleven like the seniors, and Year Twelve is like a professional dance company. I’m good, but I’m not that good.” Yes, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but what the hell.
Paddy nodded. “I suppose.”
I didn’t go into detail about how most of the Year Twelve prima donnas were absolute slags and despised me with a fiery passion when it came to dance, so dancing with them was kind of awkward.
Brett and Casper, and Emma and I were just drifting into other conversation when Betty asked, “What kind of dance is it?”
I looked to Casper who made a very non-committal gesture.
“A ballet one?” Betty pressed.
“A little bit, probably. But, a few other styles as well.”
As the parents kept pressing for information and Casper answered as best he could, I shared a smile with Brett across the table. Obviously, Emma shared our thoughts, as she leant in towards me.
“Amazing; he doesn’t sound like a total wanker for once,” she commented quietly.
I gave her a smile. “Sometimes, he’s not.”
“Less than one per cent of the time, maybe.”
I gave her a wry glance. “At least Brett didn’t pick up everything.”
Emma snorted into her coke and shook her head. “True, one totally misogynistic womaniser is plenty.”
Casper bumped me. “I could have sworn I heard my name.”
“Yes, I had it changed by deed poll,” I replied dryly, raising my eyebrows over the rim of my glass.
“Sweet. Misogynistic Womaniser. It’s certainly unforgettable,” he laughed.
“God, you’d find the positive in the apocalypse, wouldn’t you,” I muttered with a huff and he bumped me good-naturedly again.
The rest of dinner passed in much the same fashion as it did every week; conversations moved around the table like they did among people who knew each other inside out. My brain kept trying to tell me that Brett was a little more withdrawn than usual. But, I had to remind it that I’d find trouble if I was looking for it. There was keeping a look out for warning signs, and there was reading warning signs into everything out of fear.
When we left, Casper reminded me to meet him at Dance after lunch the next day. And, to make sure I didn’t forget, he texted me before he went to bed as well.
Yeah, because I’m the one with the track record of not showing up!
e
I’d got another text before lunch, reminding me yet again to meet him. At least, this time, I’d been given some useful information, notably that he’d booked Studio One and I should meet him there.
“Isn’t your class in the other direction?” I asked Bec, who followed close behind me as I trudged to Studio One after lunch on Monday.
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