Lovesick Little

by Leslie Phelan

  “You’ve had candy this whole time?” he asked suspiciously, joking but partially offended that he hadn’t been offered any.

  “Yeah, sorry,” she said with a giggle. “I didn’t think you’d be interested in these ones; they’ve been bouncing around in there for weeks. It’s gross of me to be eating them; I wasn’t about to offer them to you!”

  “Well it might have been nice to have been given the option,” he asserted. “The Erica I knew would never hold out on me! I thought we were pals . . . this changes everything.”

  She laughed. “You’re right, I should have at least offered you a few of my rancid candies.” Then she pulled out another handful of purse-bottom debris, picked out a red jujube and handed it to him, and picked out an orange one for herself. “Of course, we could always just go get some fresh ones,” she said, but Gabriel just wiped it on his jeans and popped it into his mouth. “Are you kidding?” he said. “The things I’ve dusted off candy before eating it! I’m pretty sure I invented the two-second rule.”

  “Oh please!” she said, slapping his knee. “I’ve been fostering the TEN second rule for longer than I’d care to admit! Dusting off is child’s play . . . the things I’ve rinsed off my candy before eating it!”

  “Bang!” he said, “That’s disgusting! And I think I might be in love . . .” He was exaggerating of course, but was feeling very glad to have found a kindred spirit where it pertained to candy. “Favourite flavours?” he asked.

  “Same as most, I’d expect,” she responded casually, pretending not to be thunderstruck by his last comment. “Reds, pinks, purples, and, depending on the variety, blues, whites, clear ones. The usual suspects. I favour the sweet ones.”

  “And what of the inferior colours?” he asked her. “And by ‘inferior’ I mean the greens, oranges and lemon-yellows. And of course, black. It takes a special palate to appreciate black licorice candy, and I don’t have it.”

  “Well, I eat ‘em all,” said Erica, taking down a lemon yellow and passing another red one to Gabriel. “I like to think of the lessfavourable ones as palate cleansers,” she explained, “ginger slices to my sashimis.” Gabriel found her outlook amusing, and couldn’t help but be touched that she’d given him the last two reds in a row. “You’re giving me all your sashimis,” he said. “I guess that means I like you,” she replied. And under the dim patio light in the stillness of the foggy evening, they both chewed their old candies and thought about each other. “You’re beautiful,” he blurted out. “More beautiful than I could’ve imagined you’d turn out.” She smiled, blushed, and cast her eyes down into her coffee. “And you’re smooth!” she shot back. “You know just what to say to take a girl’s breath away!” He shook his head earnestly. “Actually, if you get to know me (again), you’ll see that there is nothing smooth about me.” She raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. “Well, with a face like that, I guess you never needed to be!” “Now who’s smooth?!” he said, reaching out and tickling her sides. She jumped and screeched, almost spilling her mug, then came back at him with tickling fingers until she was sitting on him, her face hovering just above his. They both paused in truce and caught their breath, their foreheads just an inch from touching. “You know, I spent the whole next day hoping you’d come by again,” he said softly, pulling her onto his lap comfortably (and smoothly). “I thought you definitely might,” he said. “And I felt only slightly dissed when you didn’t.”

  “Well how do you think I felt?” she asked him, catching him off guard. “Because I did come, I must’ve just missed you, and I got to spend all winter kicking myself for not getting here in time.” He argued that at least she knew where to find him, and she argued that with no guarantee he’d be single when she returned, that fact was of little comfort.

  “I hope you didn’t worry too much about that,” he said with a chuckle. “I pretty much gave up on love when the only girl I ever liked rode away on a white mare last Labour Day.” She could hardly believe he was saying such things to her. Every word was so sweet, it had to be a line. And he was so beautiful, he couldn’t be real. But he was, and when she peered into his dark eyes, all she could see was genuine interest, attraction, and blooming adoration. He was real. She was so taken, she thought she might cry, so she spoke to break the spell.

  “I’m so glad you stayed cute,” she said flirtingly, but also with a tone of relief.

  “Oh yeah?” he asked, noticing her tone. “Was there a big chance I might not have?”

  “Just sayin’,” she continued, running her fingers through his thick black hair as if he belonged to her and always had. “I’m just incredibly grateful for you that your boyish good looks didn’t go the way of, say, Macaulay Culkin’s or Ralph Macchio’s, leaving you awkward and troll-like in adulthood.”

  He laughed, not used to receiving such wayward compliments. “Well Miss, I, too, am very glad there’s nothing troll-like about the grown-up you. Except maybe for that jewel in your belly button,” he said, pointing to the canary rhinestone pierced through her navel. She laughed out loud, not just at his joke, but because it was simply too much that he was this beautiful AND this clever.

  “I’m glad you finally made it back,” he said cheerfully but seriously. “And I’m very glad you didn’t go off and marry some foreigner on your travels.”

  “Me too,” she said sweetly as she wiggled in closer. “I thought of you all the time.”

  “I thought of you too,” he said, placing his warm hand on the small of her back. “I thought of that kiss every day.” Every part of her felt like it was surrendering to him. They could both feel that their next kiss was upon them but they let it linger, for the anticipation itself was its own brand of delicious.

  Moments passed, and they didn’t kiss. They got to talking, for there was still so much catching up to do. They spoke of likes and dislikes, of biggest fears and of wildest dreams. They told each other stories about their lives since losing touch, of her adventures in growing up without parents, and of the bewildering void he often felt carrying on without his twin sister. When she spoke, he watched her face, looking for clues that the beautiful woman in front of him was actually just a version of the little friend he used to know. When he spoke, she wondered, like she always used to, whether he was even aware of the charm and power he wielded with his almost insufferable champion’s grin. Then, without another thought, she puckered up and kissed him right on it. This kiss was even better than the last.

  The following day when the sun was high in the sky and it was a little too sweltering to be anywhere but in the shade, the young souls of the house sat in the breezy solarium under the fan, enjoying the afternoon from the air-conditioned indoors. Sprawled comfortably across sofas, ottomans and armchairs, Gabriel and Ava read, Erica added to her scrapbook, and Demetra painted watercolour onto origami sheets while Arielle strummed at the harp. Their peace was disturbed when they heard a vehicle pull into the driveway and a voice over a loudspeaker say “GABE O’FAOLAIN!” When they looked up, they saw a white van with a massive LCD screen hung across the side of it. Gabriel, Erica and Arielle ran out to see what was up. The writing on the screen read:

  On this the eve of July the thirty-first, Come lose your head and quench your thirst! It’s time for the tenth annual TEN PARTY THROWDOWN!! Kicking off at sundown @ Jy & Jaz’s 23 Boundary Rd.

  Next venues to be revealed as the night progresses! BE THERE!

  “Yessss!” cheered Gabriel excitedly as the van pulled out. “I totally forgot this jam was tonight!”

  “I’ve heard about this before!” said Erica. “It’s the big house party crawl, right?”

  “Yup!” he replied. “We’ll stay in one spot just long enough to dance a bit, take a few pics, and when all the supplies are depleted, it’ll be on to the next one!”

  “I’m so down!” said Erica ardently.

  “It’s going to be epic!” he assured her. “Arielle, ‘you coming?” She nodded enthusiastically. “Ava?”

  Ava set dow
n her Vogue, pulled her shades down her nose and glared at him. “Well I am free tonight, but it just so happens I’d rather stay in and clip my toenails than drink from the same trough as all those unwashed island rats, thanks. I’ll pass,” she said coldly as her eyes went back down to her article. No one fought to convince her to join.

  “What about me?” asked Demetra, slightly offended.

  “Oh Meaty, I know you’d make a swell addition to any party but I think you might be a little young for this one,” he replied in a big brother tone.

  “How’s that?” she asked, “because I’ve been the toast of parties where the average age was at least fifteen years older than that of this one, I’d suspect!”

  “You make a good point,” he conceded, “but as long as I’m your big brother, I’m not bringing you anywhere near the kinds of guys that will be out wheeling tonight.”

  “How old will I have to be before you bring me to parties with you?” she asked.

  “At least nineteen,” he answered. “At least then you’ll be legal.”

  “Well why does Arielle get to go? We don’t know for sure how old she is.”

  “Because she’s definitely older than you.”

  “By how much, would you say?”

  “At least five years, Meaty.”

  Making her what? Fourteen?”

  Gabriel thought about it for a second. “She’s got to be older than that.”

  “But there’s no way to know for sure!”

  “You’re right about that. Okay you win! I guess you’re coming, if Mom says it’s okay.”

  Demetra relaxed down into her seat, satisfied. “Meh, it’s alright. I never really wanted to go to that horny drunkfest anyway; I signed up for debate squad this fall and I just wanted to practice arguing.” She smiled cheekily at her brother. “For the record, this one was mine.”

  “It’s true, you’re good!” he admitted.

  “You’d be bringing me if I wanted,” she teased.

  “If Mom said it was okay,” he corrected her with a wink.

  That evening while the girls got ready for the party, Gabriel shaved in his bathroom mirror while his mom sat chatting with him, sipping a glass of pinot grigio.

  “Well tonight sounds like fun,” said Lucia, “but I was thinking . . . maybe you should just bring Erica.”

  “I already invited Arielle, Mom,” he said. “I can’t un-invite her now! She’s up there shining her rain boots, all stoked to go!”

  Lucia’s motherly instincts tugged at her. “I just don’t know how I feel about you taking her to the ten parties shindig; she’s so little and naive, I fear even the ants could carry her off.”

  “No one’s going to take her, mom. We’re on an island, remember?”

  “I’m just afraid you could lose her if you weren’t watching her closely.”

  “Mom, it’ll be fine. Erica and I will both watch her; she’d be heartbroken if we left her behind.”

  “Well, just make sure the guys there keep their groping hands off her. We don’t know how old she is, but we know she’s far too young for that,” said Lucia with concern. “And don’t let her drink, either. You’re responsible for her tonight so I think you should know that I read somewhere something about how kids that drink before the age of sixteen are about a hundred times more likely to become raging, belligerent undignified alkies.”

  “I won’t let her drink, mom,” he reassured her. “And I won’t let anyone touch her, and I’ll bring them both home at a decent time.”

  “Okay, son. I trust you. Just sayin’, she has the heart of a baby.”

  “I know,” he said. “I know.”

  Arielle was particularly excited for the party, as she had been feeling like she was losing ground in the fight for Gabriel’s heart ever since Erica showed up. She was dying to dance for him again, to use the only means of seductive expression she felt she had left. She tried on several things, but decided on a pair of white denim shorts, an army green t-shirt and, of course, the big yellow rain boots she loved so much. She figured they’d be going to the kind of place where people would be spilling and she couldn’t be too careful. Demetra weaved her large mass of blond hair into one big side braid, and tied a few feathers into it, just for fun. She preferred the way Arielle’s hair looked when she first arrived, with all the stuff she used to have dangling from it. She had never had any feathers before, though!

  When they arrived at the first party, the yard was packed full of young adults drinking, smoking, dancing and mingling. It was definitely more relaxed and nowhere near as classy as the last human party she had attended, but there was something in the air at this one, at this un-catered but hip and rowdy fete. It was vibrant and full of people yet to reach their prime, where everyone bounced gleefully around just basking in the collective glow of youth.

  “Ava wasn’t exaggerating when she said there would be a few island rats,” said Gabriel, gesturing towards a crowd of shirtless guys in backwards hats playing an aggressive game of beer pong. “It takes all kinds to give a party flavour!” said Erica through her slick red lips, glad to be out among partiers their age. “Looks like we’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” she said, pulling Gabriel and Arielle towards the keg and the stacks of red plastic cups.

  “Gabriel, fancy a beer?” asked one of the girls pumping and pouring.

  “Rachel! Yes thanks, one for me, and one for my girl.” While he made chit chat and caught up with Rachel, Erica beamed. He called me his girl! Arielle pretended she didn’t hear that.

  “Anything for your other lady?” asked Rachel.

  “Do you have any pop or juice?” he asked. Arielle furrowed her brows; she couldn’t understand why she couldn’t have the same drink as they.

  “What’s the matter, your friend can’t handle a few pints?” she asked, reaching for another red cup and some iced tea.

  “She could handle anything;” Gabriel said nobly. “But I wouldn’t want her to pollute herself.” Just as Arielle smiled at that, her heart sank when she saw him grab Erica by the waist. “You, we can pollute,” he said softly into her ear, just as Arielle wedged herself between them and stood on her tippy toes to pop her head between their faces, grab each of them by the hand and lead them inside toward the lively music.

  The home’s sizeable dining room had become the dance floor and therefore, the centre of the party. From the giant speakers on either side of the DJ table, music boomed and bounced off the walls as a mix of melodious electro tunes set over hip hop beats had the crowd dancing. A group of attractive girls in the middle of the floor strutted sexy beat-triggered gyrations but the second Arielle hit the floor, all eyes moved to her.

  The crowds parted around her as she took to the floor, giving her room to flow with the music and, with her arms, punctuate the rhythm of her hips. Not only was she the most graceful dancer on the floor but her moves were the most precise, even with her chunky rain boots on. Everyone watched her in awe like she was performing magic tricks with her little body, gliding and lifting as if she was hooked up to wires from the ceiling. Just like before during Arabella’s song, she moved with the confidence of a dancer who had rehearsed the choreography a hundred times. While she danced, captivating every soul in the room, Gabriel and Erica stood side-by-side, watching her proudly. His eyes were on her, and that was all that was important. She had his attention now! And she smiled with every move, effortlessly winning hearts with every thrust and spin.

  At the mercy of her cheering crowd, she jumped up onto the solid wood dining table that, for the night, was doubling as a stage. From the sexy, almost interpretive jazz routine she had just thrown down, she went straight into a hard-core crunk routine to complement the hip hop track that was fading in. From up there, she soaked up applause and accolades while they watched and waited to see what she would pull next. She was the star of the party and she loved it but when she looked up to make sure Gabriel was still watching her as intently as everyone else, she was distraught not to see
him or Erica anywhere. Her dancing slowed and she lost her rhythm as her eyes squinted against the strobe lights, scanning the room for their faces.

  And then she spotted them across the room, embracing each other intimately, face to face amid the party lasers and dry ice smoke. She watched as they laughed together closely and, as if in slow motion, watched as their arms tightened around each other, hers around his neck and his around her waist, and she kissed him on the cheek with her glossy red lips. Arielle felt herself fall apart from the inside as she saw their faces meet, linger for a moment, then close their eyes and press their lips together. As they kissed, their passion was electric, and the sight of it felt like a punch to the stomach, causing her to double over in breathless agony.

  Feeling queasy, she slumped down off the table and made a beeline for the bathroom. As soon as she got inside and slammed the door shut behind her, she threw up violently into the toilet before dropping down to the floor in despair. Suddenly, she heard coughing coming from inside the shower ring, and she pulled the curtain back to find three girls laughing, smoking and taking shots from a bottle of Baja Rosa.

  “Well that almost killed my buzz!” said the girl on the far right who was wearing bejeweled sunglasses and had stacks of bangles up her arms. “Next time be sure to take a huge dump in front of us too!” The other two girls cackled deliriously. Arielle frowned and turned for the door.

  “Oh don’t be sad, she didn’t mean it!” said the nice-looking blond girl in the middle who wore a white baby tee with a red sequined anchor on it.. “Hide out in here with us if you like; what’s your name?” But Arielle could only pat herself on the neck to let them know she couldn’t talk. The third girl in the tub, a little dreadlocked redhead stood up excitedly and started using sign language. “I - have - been - looking - for - someone - to - test - my - new - skills - on!” she said with her hands, but Arielle just stared giggling at the funny hand dance the girl was doing, fumbling to try and imitate the gestures with her own.