by J. M. Adele
How. Dare. You.
I wasn’t cleaning that. Not now. Not ever. I was done. My energy levels were about equal to the level of liquid remaining in that bottle: fuck all.
I unzipped my dress and dropped it in the puddle. Carefully stepping out of the wet fabric, I headed to the living area and took a seat on the couch. I hissed in pain as I kicked off my thongs—the only shoes that currently fit me—and put one foot on the coffee table so I could see it. Speckled droplets of red decorated my skin. The rubber straps had cut into my swollen flesh, leaving deep indents. I would’ve rubbed them if I could reach them. Lip quivering, I returned my foot to the cool tiles and rested back on the cushioned leather. I could already feel the grip of stickiness under the backs of my legs and on the soles of my feet. I needed a shower. I needed a cleaner. I needed Ben.
I checked the clock. 3:33 p.m. Another hour and twenty-seven minutes until he’d be finished. And another hour after that until he’d be home because he was working on a project in Redland Bay.
The sting in my tear ducts amped up, but I squeezed my eyes shut, holding back the deluge. Fuck it. I was going to have a nap until he got home. Propping my legs on the leather, I rolled to the side and made myself as comfortable as I could. I searched for the cushions, spying the kitchen bench in my peripheral vision.
“Ah, shit.” I hadn’t put the food in the fridge. My head flopped back and I filled my lungs. “Ssshhhhiiiiiiiiit!” I yelled to the empty room like it was going to solve all my problems. The baby gave me a couple of kicks to the ribs, as if to say, “Shut up. I’m sleeping here.”
I’m not budging from this couch.
It seemed we would be having tinned soup for Christmas Eve dinner.
I let my eyes fall shut. My ankles had stuck together, but it was okay. I could ignore it. My breathing evened out.
My mind started to wander to the future and what our baby would look like. He’d have blue eyes, for sure. But would they be denim blue, like mine? Or summer-sky blue like Ben’s? Would he be blond—like me—or dark like Ben? Ben’s hair hadn’t been as dark when he was a kid. I’d pored over his baby photos the first chance I got.
I imagined Ben’s eyes with a darker shade of wavy blond hair.
All those years ago when Ben and I met, who would have thought that we’d end up bringing a new life into the world?
I had. I’d thought it. I’d known we would be more, even though I hadn’t let myself believe it at the time. I remembered meeting him like it was yesterday ...
_____
Rockhampton, Australia
18th March, 2006
I took a running leap, hugging my knees into my chest as I yelled, “Geronimo!” before landing a bomby in the pool.
“Shit! You got nasty pool water in my Coke.” Stewart’s words dove under the surface to reach my ears.
I grinned. Suck it, bro. My body was small, but I could send up a decent wave if I landed just right.
Kicking off the bottom, I almost reached fresh air, but my big brother was too quick, shoving me back under. Arse wipe. Sometimes I hated him, even though I loved him.
I struggled to break free, but his hands locked on my shoulders in punishment. My lungs started to burn. His taunting cackles speared the water like fingers poking into my deflated air sacs. I thrashed at the pain, panic rising. He was twice my size, but only two years older. I was screwed.
“Benny-boy! Lee Major! You made it.” He didn’t let me go, even though he apparently had visitors.
Wait a minute. Visitors! I’m saved.
“Is that your sister?”
“This? Nah, it’s just a drowned rat.” Stewart punctuated his insult with another cackle.
I was only seconds away from dragging in a lungful of water. I stopped kicking. Twisting my arm enough to reach the tender flesh inside his biceps, I pinched as hard as I could. He yanked his arm away and I shot to the surface, delivering a knee to the groin for extra points.
“Fuck! You little cow.”
My chest ached as I dragged in some air. Flailing my arms and legs, I managed to put some distance between us. I clung to the opposite side of the pool. It took me a solid minute to regain my breath. When I was in the safe zone, I turned on him. “You dickhead! I almost drowned.”
He rubbed the skin under his arm, his nose screwed up. “Nah, bullshit. You were fine.”
Behind me, the screen door opened with a squeal of its hinges. “What’s going on out here?”
Dad.
Spewart was in so much shit now. I raised an eyebrow at my big brother and crossed my arms.
His face rearranged into what I called his Little Boy Blue. “Nothin’.”
The big eyes and guileless pout might’ve worked when he was six, but now that he was ten years older and growing bum fluff on his pimply face it didn’t have the same effect. I kept my death stare cemented in place. I wasn’t gonna say anything. I wasn’t a snitch.
“Don’t be an idiot, Stewart. Leave your sister alone.” Dad’s feet came into my peripheral vision as he stood right on the edge near my head.
Righteous indignation replaced the Little Boy Blue. “She started it.”
Real mature, Spew. My eyes played rollerball in my head.
“You say that every time and I haven’t believed you once,” Dad barked. “If you can’t play nice, your friends are gonna have to go home.”
I smiled as my brother’s jaw went slack. Suck it. Were his mates even still here? Neither of them had bothered to come to my rescue. I hadn’t set eyes on them yet and already I didn’t like them.
“That’s not fair! Why can’t she go inside?”
No. I gasped, craning my neck to catch Dad’s reaction. Please don’t make me go inside.
Dad swiped a finger across his sweaty forehead, before drying it on his shorts. “Because it’s hotter than a Holden’s dashboard in January.”
“Then why aren’t you out here?”
He’d been inside drinking beer and re-watching the season-opener of rugby league, that was why. And Anna—his second wife—had gone out with our little brother, Will, and Dad was taking advantage of the peace and quiet—which we were ruining, but whatever.
“Stop arguing and look after your sister or I’ll tell your mother. She won’t let you come back here.”
Dad always used Mum as a threat. He didn’t realise that he was the only one afraid of her. Her and her lawyers, that was.
“Do it.” My brother dared.
“One more word and you won’t be borrowing the car anytime soon.”
Ooh, snap. Way to go, Dad. Hit him in his weak spot—freedom.
Spewart clamped his lips together and I heard snickers from behind me as the screen door slapped shut.
They are still here.
“Burn, bro.” One of his mates finally spoke up.
I turned to see who it was. A gangly, freckled redhead had one side of his mouth quirked in amusement. Next to him—hell ... oh. Who are you?
I sank into the water, my eyes level with my fingertips as they gripped the tiled edge. Dark hair framed a gorgeous face. Blue—the bluest—eyes stared back at me. His gaze shifted to Spewart, a line creasing between his brows. He wasn’t as tall as the other guy, but he was built like he lifted hay bales all day. Something in me roared to life. For the first time, my entire body tingled.
And then he spoke.
“You took it too far, idiot. I was about to jump in.”
He hadn’t been the one to speak before. Deep, soulful tones sashayed off his tongue. Oh, damn. Now I was thinking about his tongue. If only he had jumped in. He could’ve given me mouth-to-mouth.
I’d only kissed two boys so far. My first kiss had been another near-drowning incident—nearly drowning in spit. Jonathon White had pulled me aside after phys ed class and laid one on me for five minutes straight. I hadn’t known how to stop it. The guy had been determined to check thoroughly for cavities. I’d managed to avoid him for six months afterwards until he cornered me
one day after school and I had to tell him that he was a sloppy Joe. Or sloppy Jon, in his case. My second experience had been with a peck and retreater. Even after we’d chased each other for a whole year. So disappointing.
I sized up Spew’s friend again, feeling hopeful for a passionate encounter in the near future.
“Are you here to swim, or not?” Stewart snapped.
The redhead copied my move and bomb-dived, sending up a huge splash. Hmph. I bet Spew wasn’t gonna drown his friend for spiking the Coke with chlorine.
The big guy sat on the edge a couple of feet away, sinking his legs into the water. He smiled at me before sliding into the pool and gliding to the middle. I swam to the steps so I could sit and watch. I never wanted to look away.
“Who are your friends?” I figured I’d ask, since nobody was offering introductions.
The redhead raised his hand. “I’m Bradley.” He pointed to my crush. “That’s Ben. Are you Bree or Andrea?”
Stewart butted in before I could answer. “Bree has a different dad. She doesn’t come here.”
And Bree is only nine, but whatever. I wished she was here. There was a little too much testosterone in the waters. Which normally would’ve been fine with me, but I shared chromosomes with one of them and he was pissing me off. I needed backup.
Bradley nodded. “Oh, right. Sorry. So this is Andrea.”
“The one and only.” I put my hands on my hips and gave him a toothy smile.
“I see shyness runs in the family,” he joked. “I have a younger sister. I should introduce you.”
“Yeah, you should. What’s her name and what year is she in?”
“Letitia. And she’s in year six.”
“Did she get the redhead gene?” I straightened out one leg and wiggled my toes above the surface.
“Not exactly. She’s a strawberry–blonde.”
My foot sent up a splash as I dropped it back in the pool. “Then she’s awesome!”
Ben’s eyes focused on me, a hint of laughter in the tilt of his lips. He didn’t say a word. Mm, mm, mm. He was the strong, silent type. Me likey.
Throwing my chin out in Stewart’s direction, I asked, “How did you two get mixed up with this idiot?”
“Hey!” Big bro swung his arm, sending a spray of water my way.
Ben flashed his teeth, but still kept his silence.
Bradley jumped in with the answer. “I’m playing with the under-sixteens at the North’s Knights this year. Stew and I are teammates.”
You poor bugger. I sent him a look of sympathy before turning back to Ben.
“What about you?” Delicious, scrumptious, male—please tell me you’re just tagging along because of Bradley.
“I play union with the Colts.”
Union, hey? Dad wasn’t gonna like that. That didn’t explain how he could possibly be friends with my brother.
Bradley, I understood. He was kinda like a Golden Retriever from what I could tell. Eager and friendly with just about everyone. But Ben ... he seemed more like a wolf. More discerning about who he let into his pack. “So, how do you know Spewart?”
His eyebrows popped before he choked on a laugh. “I met him through Lee.”
“Lee?” It took me a second to figure it out. “You mean Brad-Lee?”
“Yeah.”
My thoughts rewound to the moment underwater. “That’s right, Spew called him Lee Major.”
Ben dipped his chin in affirmation.
“And you were Benny-boy.”
His mouth turned down at that.
“I think I’ll call you Benji. And Bradlee shall be Lee Lee.”
“That’s what my Mum and sister call me.” Lee smiled.
I shot to my feet and clapped my palms together. “Excellent!” Putting on a British accent, I added, “I hereby declare, from this moment forward, you shall be known as Lee Lee and Benji.” I sliced my arm in the air as if I were the queen wielding a sword.
Big brother screwed his nose up at me. “You’re such a friggin’ fruit cake.”
“Fruit cake is sweet and loved globally, so I’ll take that as a compliment.” I got out of the water and backed up, ready to show Lee how it was done. “You better cover your drink, Spewart, unless you want it diluted some more. I’m about to unleash a tsunami.”
“Jesus, you’re embarrassing.”
“Not as embarrassing as your face.” Seriously, the bum fluff was so bad. And to think we used to look like twins. Ew.
I loved him. I really did.
Sometimes.
Andrea
Brisbane, Australia
24th December, 2016, 4:04 p.m.
A rumble of thunder interrupted my reverie. I blinked my eyes, disoriented as to where I was and why I was all sticky. Shivers tracked along my skin as I looked down. Why was I only wearing underwear? My gaze found the clock. 4:04 p.m. More thunder shook the house with a massive crack of lightning.
A thought constricted my throat, trapping a gasp. I peeled my legs apart and slid them off the couch, pushing my body upright. I’d left the bloody washing on the line, hadn’t I? “Ssshhhhiiiiiiiiit!”
“Andy?”
My gaze shot to the doorway, finding Ronnie standing with a basketful of washing and a bucket of pegs dangling from one wrist.
Oh, I’m saved! “You are an angel! How did you get in?”
“You left the garage open.”
I grimaced. “Crap. Whoops.”
“Why are you almost naked?” She dumped the load on the table before copping an eyeful of the kitchen, freezing on the spot. “What the fuck happened in here?”
“Runaway bottle of red creaming soda.”
“Bastard,” she snarled.
“I know, right?”
“In my head, I saw you covered in blood, passed out on the couch.”
Sometimes Ronnie’s psychic gifts came in handy, although she’d tried to deny them for so long. Being able to remote view must have its uncomfortable moments. And that was just one of her talents.
“You weren’t far off.”
“Um, do you need help getting in the shower?” She cringed like she’d rather pull a tooth than see me naked.
“No, I’ll manage.”
Her face relaxed into a smile. Clasping her palm to mine, she gave me a boost off the seat before shooing me down the hallway.
I had a quick shower, hoping the soapy water running down my legs would be enough to wash away the stickiness because I wasn’t going to bend or lift anything unless I absolutely had to. This body didn’t feel like mine. Everything was puffy and sore. My boobs had their own postcode. Each. I had no chance of being able to fold my arms. My cheeks looked like I’d been storing nuts for the winter. I couldn’t bear my reflection.
Not bothering with underwear, I threw on a stretchy sleeveless dress and made my way back to the living room.
Ronnie watched me as I entered the room. “Hey. How many days overdue are you now?”
She knew the answer to that, but I said it anyway. “Five.”
“Yeah. It shows. The couch is clean if you wanna beach yourself.”
“Har-de-har. Bitch, wait your turn.” I playfully bared my teeth, watching her face drop. She averted her eyes and got back to work.
Cocking an eyebrow, I did exactly as she’d suggested and stretched out on the leather. I wasn’t good for much else. The kitchen cupboards were all clean and the shopping had been put away. She’d tied her dark hair into a messy, high bun and was working the mop like a champ. She really was an angel.
My throat got tight again. “Thank you. I couldn’t face it.”
“Fair enough.” She acknowledged with a nod. Ignoring me, she flicked the mop back and forth, seemingly engrossed in the task. But I knew her better than that by now. Her synapses were always firing, and her senses were on alert, picking up messages and vibes about the people in her life almost constantly.
Ronnie kept things close to her chest. She had sharp edges that came with a warning,
but we understood each other. I’d had my doubts when she’d moved in with our friend, Bradlee, but they’d worked their shit out in the end.
“How’s Lee?” I asked.
Her shoulders twitched for a second. “Why the fuck wouldn’t you use the dryer?”
Avoidance. Hm. “Because it’s bad for the environment.”
She glanced at me, rolling her eyes. “So are disposable nappies.”
“I won’t be using disposables.”
“You’re going to kill yourself washing nappies?” Her brows jumped.
“No. Parents managed for millennia before disposable nappies were invented. I’m sure I’ll survive.”
“Bleach is bad for the environment, too.” She mopped the same spot repeatedly, her distant gaze fixed on a point on the wall.
My forehead tightened. Something was off. “How’s Lee?”
She blinked before dunking the mop in the bucket. “He’s fine.”
“Fine?”
A streak of lightning lit up the sky and the wind tossed dead leaves and dust into the air as if warning me not to stir shit up.
“That’s what I said.” Her foot slammed on the bucket’s pedal and she yanked at the mop a little too forcefully. What the hell is going on?
I decided to change the subject, but something inside me probed around for the answer.
“Are you seeing your sisters over Christmas?”
The tension around her evaporated and she looked over with a grin. “Yep. On Boxing Day we’re taking them up to Noosa.”
Okay, so the family were fine. Lee was definitely involved in whatever heaviness she was carrying. “The beach will be packed.”
“Not where we’re going.”
Baby.
The word pressed into my head from somewhere other. I’d always imagined a force reaching down to stamp its mark on my stream of thought. A reminder that I possessed extraordinary abilities and had a responsibility to use them to help people. But it didn’t matter how many times I’d experienced the intrusion, I still had trouble trusting and deciphering the messages.
My hands flew to my stomach and I received a reassuring bump on my hand. No, Ben Junior is fine. “What do you mean?” I voiced the question, although it wasn’t intended for Ronnie. It was directed to the source of the message. Whomever or whatever that was, I didn’t know.