by S. K Munt
Hunter melted. His strength gave away under a surge of hormones and he fell back onto the trundle mattress, wanting to ‘whoop’ in excitement but knowing that it was probably a very uncool thing to do. Callie was going to let him... no he couldn’t even think it without risking a premature celebration! He sprang up again, took her hips and lifted her, as she giggled, only to put her back on the bed beside him.
‘One second,’ he said, rolling onto his knees, turning the stereo up and then pouncing over to his bed. He’d kept condoms, somewhat optimistically in his bed head compartment (along with his porn and other things he wasn’t about to let her see) for two years in anticipation of a moment very similar to this one. He just couldn’t believe that he was actually going to get to use them! He was pretty sure that he’d never been in a better mood in his life. He spotted the cordless phone sitting on his windowsill and reached to take it off the hook so the damn phone wouldn’t interrupt them, the way Ryan had been upstaged by lightning! ‘Get the lights Cal?’ He asked, picking up the lighter off the sill and lighting one of the bottle candles. Atmosphere- he needed atmosphere!
‘Okay...’ Callie still sounded breathless, and Hunter felt another wave of psychosis-inducing adrenalin pump through him. Damn! He was going to get laid! And his first time was going to be with someone who was not only hot, but someone he cared about as well! Someone who wouldn’t laugh if he fumbled, and very possibly, someone he wasn’t going to want to let go of once he’d thrown her down on their boundary line and made it redundant.
‘Take me down…’ He lit the second bottle but couldn’t wait for as long as it would take to pull the curtain away from the third. He chucked the lighter on top of his homework, shoved the condom into his jeans pocket and turned, pressing the ‘call’ button on the phone, to take it off the hook.
‘Want me to lock-’ Callie was asking. But the door opened then and Hunter’s heart and spirit broke as Ryan inched into the room with a welcoming smile, flinching to see Callie standing so close.
‘Whoops! There’s my girl!’ Ryan greeted, catching Callie in a fierce bear-hug and pulling her off the ground. ‘Sorry. Almost brained you there love!’
‘Oh…!’ Callie’s voice was a squeak. ‘Ryan! Hey!’
Hunter was going to kill him. Kill him! And the need to strangle something increased tenfold when Ryan swung a sleeping bag around Callie and onto the carpet next to the trundle bed.
‘I came over as soon as I heard you were going to be crashing here for a few days,’ Ryan said and though his words were for Callie, his knowing smirk was aimed at Hunter’s crestfallen expression. ‘Figured we could use it as make-up practice time. Your folks said it was okay if I stayed too, Hunter, and helped keep Callie… sensible.’
Hunter wanted to curse. He wanted to throw punches. He wanted to grab Callie by the panties, haul her into the bathroom and do her up against the shower door before she had a chance to regulate her thoughts or breathing, but he knew that none of them were workable plans. The best he could do, was keep what they had been about to do secret long enough to get a second go.
‘Sweet. We were just about to call you and invite you over anyway.’ Hunter held up the phone in his hand, saying a silent prayer that he was brandishing it, and not a condom wrapper.
‘And I was about to go to the loo!’ Callie disentangled herself from Ryan, shot him an: Oh crap that was close! look and then ducked out the door, half-slamming it behind her.
Hunter leaned over and switched the track to Usher’s; You Make Me Wanna was a much more appropriate song choice now! When he straightened, Ryan was leaning against the door, arms crossed across the front of his Korn T-shirt, appraising Hunter with one lifted eyebrow. Silently- the way Hunter had gone about tricking Ryan into a confession at his party the week before.
‘What?’ Hunter asked, picking up his Math textbook like it was what he’d been doing anyway.
‘How’s my timing?’ Ryan asked, curling his lip in a mean smile. ‘Timely?’
Hunter dropped his eyes to the textbook. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about man…’
‘Oh? So how’s algebra upside down? Easier?’
Hunter’s eyes focused on the text in front of him, which was indeed, upside down. ‘It’s not algebra.’ He tossed the text to the bed beside him. ‘It’s Integers.’
‘Mm-hmm.’ Ryan began to saunter towards him. How he managed to do so and look cool on the six inches of carpet between Hunter’s bed and Callie’s was beyond Hunter. ‘Call me paranoid but I don’t believe you.’
Hunter tried to look offended. ‘Look man. We had a deal and I am honoring-’ But he flinched when Ryan’s hand shot out, ripped the hat Hunter had forgotten he was wearing off his head and then smacked his face with it before dropping it onto his chest.
‘Dog.’ Ryan grumbled, turning away.
Hunter cringed, knowing he was right. But before he put the hat on Callie’s bed, Hunter brought it to his nose and inhaled her scent deeply into his system.
Yep. Cherries. Ripe for the picking.
*
Callie was so stiff on the trundle bed between Hunter’s bed and Ryan’s sleeping bag that she was certain that she had levitated like a Magician’s assistant and they would awake to find her sleeping just below the ceiling, like Dean Cain in Superman.
Or Cal El, she thought, rolling her eyes. Super Ho! Callie covered her face with her hands on reflex, but blocking her view of Hunter’s bedroom ceiling did not block out the image of him curled around her, grinning down at her in excitement. And it didn’t stop the way her own breathing was speeding up again. She rolled over onto her side, squeezing her thighs together and flinched when she saw Ryan’s face only inches from hers, staring at her.
‘You okay?’ He whispered. ‘You’ve had a weird week.’ Moonlight strained through Hunter’s curtains, the shadows of lace splashing patterns across the apples of Ryan’s cheeks. Callie almost sighed in sheer appreciation for the arrangements of his facial features, and the concern in his eyes. But then she remembered the way he’d frozen her out and she averted her eyes. ‘I’ve had a weird life. What’s one more week?’
Ryan smiled, reached out and stroked her cheek. ‘I’m here for you hon, you’re not alone’
Callie sighed because she was alone. And the proximity of her two best friends was only heightening that feeling. Once, she could have told them both everything but now she felt like she had all of these secrets and they were building inside her, weighing her down like they had mass. The weather, the adoption thing… they were heavy, stressful issues, but she knew she could handle everything if she got to keep Hunter and Ryan. But how was that going to work? She’d been swept away by Hunter’s (sober) interest in her earlier. It had struck a chord deep inside her, flicking her brain into the ‘off’ position just long enough to leave her body as frustrated as her mind had been.
Now she wished she could be pissed at him again, as she had been since the start of October. It had been distracting, helping her crave distance. But once he’d looked at her like that and pinned her to the mattress… she sighed again. It was like Ryan and Hunter had been coloring outside the lines all week and she had been policing them. Then, in complete frustration, Callie had grabbed a black marker and slashed it over the flawed picture, rendering it unrecognizable.
Now she had to live with the knowledge that she actually liked Hunter. Since their close encounter that afternoon she’d been so hyper aware of his body language that she’d kept tuning out of the conversation, analyzing every breath he took, every look he shot her. She didn’t know how deep her feelings ran for him in the romantic sense, but she knew she probably wasn’t going to be able to think anything over rationally until the fog of hormones lifted. And under those hormones was a foundation of friendship. So if the two could come together like that, then wasn’t falling in love sort of inevitable?
Maybe it seemed that way, to her. But she had no clue what Hunter was thinking. Yeah he’d made the moves
, talked the talk- but what path was he going to walk after? Meredith had called after dinner, and Hunter had taken the phone out to the porch and spoken to her for twenty minutes. So did he think that he could just sleep with Callie behind his girlfriend’s back and then carry on like nothing had happened? And if he did, was that what Callie wanted? Had she accidentally offered herself to him as way to break the tension with no-strings attached? Or had she hoped that the encounter would have been so wonderful that things would have just fallen into place after, or gone back to normal?
It sure seemed like Hunter was up for the drive-by sort of hook-up. Obviously, he didn’t like her enough to break up with his girlfriend or even try to hold her hand or something in front of Ryan. In fact, when she’d all but said ‘take me’ she’d held her breath for a kiss that hadn’t happened because he’d flown off for a franger. Just recalling that made her feel cheap. Maybe Hunter, being a boy could just have sex with his female friend and not put any thought into it, but though Callie could separate sex from love; what mattered to her was the dynamics of their friendship- and the way she had been obsessing over Hunter’s every smile and laugh all afternoon told her that she wanted more than an exchange of virginities with Hunter. Maybe she wanted to be his girlfriend. And if she slept with him and he went back to Meredith without a backwards look, it was going to hurt her. But she didn’t want him to know that in case it scared him off, not just as a lover, but a friend.
And then, at the end of it all there was Ryan, who had been the first one to drag his crayon over the line. The idea of being wanted had never really occurred to Callie before. She’d never felt butterflies, had never even been turned on. But it was like one look from Ryan that previous Friday night had grabbed her by the hormones and shaken her senses clean out. Maybe she didn’t want Hunter at all; maybe she just wanted to feel like she mattered to someone because Ryan had stolen her breath and then punched her in the stomach with rejection. Maybe it was Ryan she wanted to be with and was just working her exasperation out on the nearest warm, deliciously hard body.
Maybe she was like every other girl after all. Maybe she was just as stupid and show-offy and narcissistic. Maybe she only wanted Hunter because he had been ‘hers’ and now she didn’t want to share with the other kids. The only thing she knew for sure was that if she didn’t get her act together, she was going to ruin everything.
Her sanity felt like it was threatening to slip away. Maybe she had freaked out on Monday afternoon and imagined the whole scene with Imogen in Mr Banks classroom, but she had not imagined the way the woman had confronted her at the disco, and she had Marnie to witness it! So what had happened? For all the times Callie had suffered panic attacks from her phobia, she had never imagined women attacking her or breaking glass or submersion in unseen water before. Nothing was making sense. So there was only one thing to hold onto; music.
‘I hope the gig goes well tomorrow night.’ She whispered. ‘This cyclone is getting close though. Will the bar even be open?’
Ryan shrugged. ‘If Cyclone Addison is that close, then there won’t be a gig because we’ll be here passing you paper bags.’
‘Not if the music is loud enough,’ Callie whispered back, actually confident in making that statement as she tweaked the end of his nose. ‘Or good enough. It’s all on you fellas.’
Ryan mock-nipped at her finger then grinned. ‘I’ll sing my heart out then Cal, just for you.’
Callie flushed pleasantly and a squeak of bedsprings prevented her from having to answer.
‘What are you two whispering about?’ Hunter’s voice sounded agitated. ‘We all need our beauty sleep, you know.’
‘Precisely what we were discussing,’ there was an edge to Ryan’s voice.
Callie sighed and rolled onto her back. ‘You’re right Hunter. Sorry.’
‘It’s okay.’ Hunter’s voice had softened. A second later, Callie felt one of his fingers trace up the centre of her wrist and then stroke the sensitive flesh there. Her heartbeat accelerated again. Out of the corner of her eye to see that Hunter had rolled to the very edge of his bed, so close to the edge that he was half hanging off it in order to touch her.
Why are you doing that? She wanted to ask him, but couldn’t. What about Meredith? What about Ryan? Why did I lose my mind this afternoon and jump you right back when I’m supposed to be the level-headed one?
But then Hunter’s fingers laced through hers on one side, just as Ryan snuggled closer to her, resting his forehead against her bicep. Callie stiffened, opening her mouth to exclaim: ‘What is going on with us?! If either of you actually want to be more than a friend to me speak now, or forever hold your piece- and your own damn hands!’ And just clear the air. But she couldn’t because if they turned that question on her, she didn’t have an answer either! So she lay in the dark and wondered if they could feel the thickness of the air as she did. Then she wondered if they were each flooded with warmth and desire, as she was.
And then, she wondered if, after the gig was over, they would be too. She reached down, pressed her headphones to her ears and hit play on the Discman, letting Shania sing her to sleep.
Now was not the time to rock anything- but roll right under the radar.
11.
Callie spent most of the day barricading herself in Hunter’s room, attempting to read her book and not act like a complete nutcase every time the wind whistled through the trusses of the house in a way that sounded like one thousand banshees were descending to rip her head off her shoulders.
The heavy rain started at about one in the afternoon and when the lightning started around two, Callie rushed into the living room like a snake had bitten her, throwing herself at Hunter’s mum, holding the too-narrow woman tightly.
‘I’m sorry.’ She whispered, staring at the television over Josie Mark’s shoulder, where the Channel 7 team were showing flooding in Proserpine. Then it flashed to a neon satellite pic of a red and purple circular cloud rotating closer and closer to the central part of QLD. She cringed; Horizon wasn’t on the map but Araulen Valley was and it was well within the ‘red’. She shuddered and looked around the room, noting that Josie had put away her breakables and marked the glass of the windows with large ‘X’s’ in masking tape. They were in trouble then- Hunter’s mother didn’t even allow blue-tack on walls.
‘It’s okay sweetheart.’Mrs Marks whispered soothingly.
After Josie had held her for a while, Callie accepted a sandwich and sat across from her, sipping tea and trying to make idle chit chat while hiding the fact that she was squeezing a balled-fist between her knees and trying not to scream. The rain sounded like machine gun fire on the roof. She blew the steam off the top of her cup and smiled gratefully at Mrs M. ‘Thanks for this.’ She said softly. ‘I know how busy you guys are.’
‘Oh honey, think nothing of it.’ She reached over and patted Callie’s hand. ‘And it’s the least we can do for you, Callie. You’re such a good influence on my boy.’
Callie thought of the way Hunter had sucked back a tequila worm the week before and then had scrambled around his room the day before, looking for a condom packet on her behalf, and blushed down into her fine china tea cup. ‘I don’t know about that…’
‘Oh I do.’ Josie began to say. But then there was a sudden crash and both she and Callie jumped. Callie screamed, then clamped a hand over her mouth, then immediately turned to see what had caused the sound.
‘Oh my goodness! Oh and we just re-stained the deck!’ Hunter’s mum was up already, heading for the screen door leading to the porch. Callie didn’t have to get up to see the massive tree branch which had flown from goodness-knew-where and smashed into the verandah railing. It was wedged between the topmost and middle railing and looked old, brittle and still breaking. Then another crash resounded, this one on the roof, and Callie bolted to the nearest corner, backing up against the breakfast bar, and screamed again as she began to crouch. She hugged herself and rocked, trying to keep it together. ‘What
was that?!’
‘Nothing honey, just branches coming off the trees over in the meadow. The damn council should have had them lopped back before bushfire season!’
‘Is it safe for you to be standing there?’ Callie whimpered the question. Mrs M didn’t even hear her. She was holding her hand out, as though the sensation of the sheets of rain coming sideways through the door and onto her polished floors was pleasant against her palm. ‘Hey! Rick’s home! That’s odd.’
Callie felt slightly better, knowing that a masculine type was going to be around. She got to her feet and glanced out the kitchen window to the forest behind them, wondering how strong the trees were… what the chances were that one would topple down on Hunter’s house- or hers!
‘Rick! What’s going on?’
‘Close the door woman! Those winds are already up near fifty knots.’ There was a bang, the metallic one of the flimsy screen door shutting followed by the thunk of the ornate timber door slamming behind it. Callie saw Mr M walk inside and toss an inside-out umbrella onto the couch. His wife instantly clucked her tongue and picked it up like it was a dead rat; by the end, and carried it into the kitchen.
‘So… faulty umbrella?’ Callie made a weak attempt to joke. She couldn’t help it; Hunter’s father was so wet that he looked like he’d swum home. In fact he was a handsome man and sort of looked like Hunter had been soaking in water until he wrinkled.
‘It is raining cat’s dogs and well, I think I saw a Zebu land next to the rhinos in the pond which was once that meadow.’ Hunter’s father had golden hair like his wife and son but grey eyes which were always crinkled in humor. He cocked his head at Callie and said: ‘How you holding up now that it’s shaping up to be a category five?’