by Kirsty Eagar
‘I said it because I was tied to a chair with my pants down and a dick so hard it hurt. I was pissed off.’
‘See, I won’t accept that. You could have said anything, anything else. But not that. It was below the belt. And no snide remarks, thanks. I realise it’s a poor choice of phrase.’
‘Jess, when it comes to me, there is no belt,’ Mitch said, and something in his voice stilled her. Resignation? Defeat? ‘I am the other guy. Worse than that even. What do you want me to say? I take it back?’
It wasn’t exactly an apology, but for some reason it was enough. ‘No,’ Jess said with a sniff. ‘I want you to revise your attitude. Women, amazingly enough, are allowed to like it. If that’s news to you, then you’re not doing it right.’
‘I’ve never had any complaints.’ Jess said it at exactly the same time as Mitch, and then lost it, giving in to a laugh that vibrated her whole body and sounded vaguely like the wukka-wukka-wukka of chopper rotors. Shaking his head, Mitch started to push the trolley again.
‘It’s not my fault you’re predictable,’ she told him, wiping a fingertip under each eye. They were over the crest of the hill now, heading down the other side, speeding up. She dug around in her bag, finding her Zippo, and unfolded Brendan’s letter. Flick-spin-scritch!
‘You’re not even going to read it?’ Mitch asked, and something in his tone made Jess wonder just what, exactly, Brendan had revisited. Thank God she’d never let him film anything.
‘How bad is it?’ Jess asked with a grimace.
He smiled. ‘Why do you think I’m here?’ Jess groaned. ‘Oh, relax. I’m just messing with you.’ He was silent for a couple of strides, then added, ‘Bit porny.’
‘You can talk!’ Jess exclaimed with scorn. She deepened her voice: ‘That’s it, baby, bend over. Yeah, that’s how I’d do you. Like a boss.’
Mitch coughed. ‘At no stage did I use the terms “baby” or “boss”.’ He sounded embarrassed, though, which pleased Jess. ‘Anyway, you liked some of it. You admitted that much.’
Jess snapped her Zippo shut. ‘Don’t say “admitted” like you scored a point. I told you that quite willingly—’
‘Just before you killed my dick.’
They were hit by a weird silence, unable to meet each other’s eyes. Things felt loaded, what they’d done pressing down on them. When Mitch cleared his throat, Jess tensed.
‘Listen, is he harmless, or … I’ll have a word to him, if you want.’
‘What? Oh. No, I don’t need saving, but thank you and everything. Really, this is the worst he can do.’ Jess held up the letter. Then she blinked. ‘Wow. A guy trying to shame a woman sexually, motivated by a sense of entitlement. Who would have thought that could happen?’
‘Yeah, all right, all right,’ Mitch said. As Jess flicked her Zippo on again, he added: ‘Why don’t you subvert the patriarchy by doing a reading?’
Jess giggled. ‘Too risky. What if you got all hot and bothered and left me rolling down the hill while you went to visit your girl in Depper Street?’ She held her Zippo up so that light from the flame illuminated his face. ‘Tell me about her.’
‘Nothing to tell.’
‘Is she the girl from the toga party?’ Jess asked, keeping her voice light, but suddenly desperate to know.
Mitch stared at her a moment, his blue eyes unreadable. ‘No.’
One word, but unmistakably a roadblock. Jess ignored it. ‘So, who—’
‘I told you, Depper Street is just a girl I used to fuck,’ he said firmly, offering a detour. ‘I haven’t seen her in over a year.’
‘Huh,’ Jess said, allowing herself to be diverted. ‘So you’d just—What? Turn up when you were horny?’ Mitch nodded. ‘Now, see, a girl could never have an arrangement like that. It’s not fair.’
‘What are you talking about? She had an arrangement like that.’
‘Did she ever visit you?’
‘No.’
‘I rest my case.’
Mitch leaned forwards, pulling the trolley closer to him, and she caught a whiff of his aftershave. ‘Why? Would you want an arrangement like that?’
Jess swallowed, pretty sure he was asking a theoretical question, but not one hundred per cent. ‘Maybe. But I don’t see how it would work. At least not for me.’
‘Pretty straightforward, if you ask me.’
‘No, you think I’m something I’m not, because of the other night, and because of this.’ Jess held up the letter, then set fire to it. ‘But I’m actually a control freak. I’ve only slept with two guys: Brendan and my boyfriend in Year 12.’ She glanced at Mitch, expecting him to say something snide, hoping he wouldn’t.
‘Okay,’ he said, carefully.
‘I mean, I’ve hooked up with people, sure.’ It occurred to Jess that technically he was one of them, and she flushed, shaking the sheath of paper gently to give the flames more air. ‘But I can’t have sex without trust. Actually, it’s worse than that. I have to be sure they care about me. Too bad if I could do better, just so long as they’re safe.’
She turned the wad of paper over to slow the burn, holding it by a corner. ‘It’s frustrating, really. Sometimes I’m gagging for it. You know when you’ve been studying for too long?’ Mitch laughed, acknowledging what came of those circumstances. ‘But if it came to the crunch, I wouldn’t be able to do it anyway. It’s hard being me.’ Jess tossed the burning stub towards the road, where it landed in the gutter. ‘I wish I was more like you.’
The stub would have gone out unassisted, but Mitch let go of the trolley to stomp on it. It took Jess a moment to comprehend what that meant, and by the time she did, she was rolling away from him, travelling backwards down the hill, getting faster and faster, feeling the rattle of the trolley in her teeth.
Mitch looked up abruptly, realising what he’d done, and sprinted after her. ‘What the fuck, Jess?’ He jerked the trolley to a stop, glaring at her, his shoulders rising and lowering as he took audible breaths. ‘Why didn’t you yell out or something?’
‘I don’t know,’ Jess told him, as shocked as he was. ‘I just knew you’d get me.’
He shook his head. ‘Are you fucking insane?’
Jess laughed, looking up at him, hit by that mix of lightness and warmth otherwise known as relief. ‘Maybe,’ she breathed, unpeeling her hands from the sides. ‘But you did.’
She saw how his face changed. Charmed, even though he didn’t want to be.
CHAPTER 14
WARM WATER
To reach the apartment complex’s swimming pool, they had to scramble over a brick wall fronting the road. It wasn’t as difficult as it might have been due to the fact that you could climb up a small embankment and haul yourself over from there. Jess had already laddered her stockings getting in and out of the shopping trolley; going over the wall finished them off.
‘Don’t look up my skirt,’ she grunted at Mitch, throwing a leg over the wall.
‘Hard not to,’ he said dryly.
For some reason that sent Jess into hysterics, and she could only lie there on top of the wall giggling helplessly until it passed.
‘Hurry up!’ Mitch hissed, smacking her on the butt. ‘There are cars coming.’ Jess swung her legs to the front and jumped down onto the lawn on the other side. Seconds later, Mitch landed beside her. He started to say something, but Jess gripped his sleeve, cutting him off with an urgent ‘Shush!’
‘What’s wrong?’ he hissed, frozen beside her.
‘I love this song! Banks. Listen. You can just hear it.’
Mitch muttered something, pulling away, but Jess was mesmerised. The music, faint and haunting, wafted down to her from somewhere up high in the two apartment blocks. It made the moment seem magic, unreal, the pool glowing blue in the night, throwing light patterns onto the wall of the amenities building that fronted it. How strange that she was there with him, about to go swimming.
She checked her phone. There was a text from a number she didn’t recognise, which pu
zzled her until she realised it was Leanne using someone else’s phone: Where u at dickhead!!!!! L The concern was in the five exclamation marks. Jess replied with: Got a cab to my aunt’s J xo. Technically, not a lie, because she hadn’t said when she’d done this. There was a missed call from Farren, which must have come through when she was at the RE—impossible to hear anything in there. She’d left a voicemail, also nearly impossible to hear because she seemed to be shouting the words over the background of a live band:
‘Okay, I’m just saying this while I’m pissed, and tomorrow I’ll pretend it never happened, so don’t bother bringing it up, but … Sometimes it makes me so angry, Jess. You’re a good friend. The toga party reminded me I’m not alone. That I’ve got mates. Loyal mates. So, thanks. Yeah.’
Jess slipped her phone into her bag. She looked across at Mitch’s muscular back, watching him pull his jeans down to reveal black trunks, her mouth dry. It’s a time-out, she reminded herself. Tomorrow, you’ll be loyal again.
Mitch dived in, splitting the water’s skin cleanly. Jess untied the laces on her Docs, kicking them off, and started to unbutton her blouse. Was he watching? She couldn’t bring herself to check, suddenly terribly self-conscious. She should have been wearing big occasion stuff, but no, she had to be in cotton hipsters and a sports bra. Cut to the stockings, she thought desperately, and sell those babies like Wall Street. They were stay-ups, and therefore sexy. She stepped out of her skirt, placed her foot up on a sunlounge, and rolled down one sheer black leg and then the other—delicately, as though they weren’t already ripped to bits.
Then and only then did she look to the water.
Mitch was floating on his back, arms outstretched, not watching her at all. Feeling sheepish, Jess thanked God that only she knew how ridiculous she’d just been. Then she grinned, running silently to the side of the pool. She leaped high, bringing one leg up to her chest, and bombed him in the water. When she surfaced, laughing, residual drops from the splash she’d caused still rained down on her head.
Mitch shook his head, his mouth open. ‘You wait.’
She shrieked, going under and pushing off the side to get away from him. But he got her when she surfaced, clamping both hands on her shoulders and forcing her under again. She came up coughing because she was still laughing. When it had subsided, they regarded each other warily, treading water.
‘Graceful entrance,’ he said.
‘Poncy dive,’ she said.
Jess freestyled to the other end, tumble-turned, and then completed the next lap underwater, surfacing with a gasp. Floating on her back, she looked up at the apartment blocks, wondering if they’d get busted. But there was nobody glaring down at them. Most of the units were in darkness. She flipped over and stood up, waist deep in the water, eyeing Mitch. ‘Hey, want to play Stuck in the Mud?’
‘How old are you?’
‘What about Marco Polo then? Please.’
But Mitch just ignored her, pulling himself out of the pool. She turned away, giving up on him, but a second later he whistled, holding up a tennis ball. He jumped back in the pool, and then threw it to her, treading water, his throw soft, measured and careful.
Jess caught the ball one-handed. ‘Oh, my God, how embarrassing.’
‘What?’
‘You can’t throw for shit,’ she said, pegging the ball at him as fast and hard as she could, using the sideways action her dad had taught her, just like the cricketers they’d watched on TV. Mitch caught it, which was lucky, because otherwise it would have smacked him in the face, and he shook his head at her, sucking air through his teeth, pretending to be pissed off. It gave her a secret thrill.
But then she forgot about all that, slapping the water excitedly. ‘I know, I know! Let’s play Classic Catches!’
‘Yeah, all right,’ Mitch said.
•
Later, as the water calmed after a series of spectacular catches from each of them, Jess watched Mitch glide towards her underwater, as sure as a shark. She shivered as he surfaced, flattening her back against the pool wall. He wiped his face, blinking the water from his eyes, then placed one arm either side of her, their bodies close, but not quite touching. After that he didn’t seem to blink at all.
‘Jess.’
‘Hmm?’
‘Just saying it.’
‘It’s cold now, isn’t it?’ Jess said with a shiver, hugging herself.
Mitch rubbed her leg with his knee. ‘How’d you get those hamstrings? You’re cut.’
‘Running. Intervals, mainly.’
‘Times or distances?’
‘Both. Like, I might do four-hundred-metre intervals, but the fast lap has to be under a certain time, and the recovery lap has to be within a certain time, too.’
He raised his non-existent eyebrows. ‘Hard core.’
‘I’ve done a lot of reading on it—how to improve your VO2 max—the lactic acid thing. I guess you’d know all about it because of rugby.’
‘So, is this a serious thing, the running?’
‘No. I mean, it was, till I got down here. Then I wasn’t winning anymore. There are girls I can’t beat, you know? They’ve been doing Little Athletics since they were three or something. Or maybe they’re just better, I don’t know. Like, I am competitive, but only when I’ve got a chance of winning. So now I just compete against me. Sorry, talking too much. Nervous.’
‘Why are you nervous?’
‘You know why.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Because you’re …’ Too close. ‘Examining me. Tell me about the rugby thing.’
‘Not much to tell. I played Colts One in first year. But because I had the year off, I’ve missed the boat. Only made First Grade this year. Was hoping for Reserves.’
Jess thought about all that. ‘I’m confused. Isn’t First Grade the best?’
Mitch smiled. ‘No.’ He started to stroke the skin under her eye with a thumb. ‘What’s with all the make-up?’ he asked, and Jess realised that courtesy of Georgie’s efforts she probably looked like a racoon. ‘I didn’t think you were the type to wear a lot of make-up.’
‘I don’t normally,’ Jess said. But she was thinking about Diamond Girl from the toga party. She’d been wearing a lot of make-up. Therefore, what Mitch was really saying was Jess wasn’t his type. I doubt it.
He smoothed away her frown, running his thumbs over her eyebrows. ‘What’s that about?’ he asked.
‘I’m confused myself.’ Jess drew a sharp breath, trying to relax. He drew a line around her ear and tweaked her lobe. ‘Don’t,’ she said, clapping her hands over her ears and giving a nervous laugh. ‘I know they stick out a bit. It’s embarrassing.’
‘No, it’s cute.’
‘Cute is for baby ducks.’
‘Okay, it’s sexy. You’ve got very sexy, only-slightly-sticking-out ears.’
‘Stop it!’ Jess wailed.
‘Well, what are you worried about your ears for? You’re a glamour. I’m the one without any eyebrows.’ Mitch leaned closer, close enough to make Jess stop breathing, his fingertips brushing her cheek, his eyes narrowed.
‘Had a cigarette when I finished work. Sorry,’ she blurted, worried about how she’d taste.
Mitch shrugged, completely unconcerned. ‘I can’t smell it.’
He hadn’t been going to kiss her, Jess realised. Probably hadn’t even thought of it at all, until she’d made it obvious.
‘What happened to your nose?’ he asked.
‘I broke it,’ Jess said in a flat voice, and turned her head.
‘What’s over there?’
‘Nothing. I’m trying not to breathe on you. That’s the only reason why I said that about smoking, by the way. I’m cold. I’m getting out.’ She tried to push him out of the way, but he didn’t budge.
‘I just don’t do kissing, Jess.’ He gave her an odd smile—wry, sympathetic even. There was no smirk in it. ‘It’s not you. I’ve never been into it.’
Jess was still. She co
uld have kept up the pretence, but it would have been difficult in the face of that steady blue-eyed gaze. ‘I wasn’t wanting it, honestly. But when it looked like that’s what you were going to do, I thought, Oh well, it’s a time-out. It might be nice.’ She sighed. The night had been popped like a bubble; all the magic gone. ‘I feel so dumb.’
‘It’s not dumb.’ Mitch hooked his hands under her thighs, lifting her effortlessly in the water and pulling her to him, and Jess wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, her legs around his waist, more comfortable pressed against him than having him look at her. ‘Anyway, other things might be nice,’ he murmured, and then kissed her cheek.
‘I thought you didn’t kiss,’ Jess said, with another shiver.
‘I do, just not like that. But I’ll kiss you here …’ he kissed her jaw, ‘here …’ he kissed her neck, making her squirm because she was suddenly ticklish, ‘and on your sexy, sexy ears.’
Jess giggled, hunching her shoulders as he went to do it. ‘Would you shut up about my ears?’ She pulled back to look at him, and was still, overwhelmed by a feeling of being caught somehow. She touched his hair gingerly, then traced one of the pale-pink rivulets running down his neck, the only sounds their breathing and water lapping at the sides of the pool. She gently rubbed her knuckles along his jawline, feeling the rasp of his stubble.
‘Should I have shaved?’ he asked.
‘No, I like it.’ Jess ran a hand over his chest, feeling regrowth. ‘You shaved this for the toga party?’ He nodded. ‘And you trim downstairs, too.’
‘I might have let myself go. You should probably check.’
Her laugh was high and breathless. ‘No, I’m okay. I was just curious.’
‘Jess?’ Mitch said, and Jess sucked in air that was too thin, like she was getting it through a straw, before finally, reluctantly, meeting his eyes. ‘Can I touch you?’
‘I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. But I can’t,’ she said in a rush. ‘I’m trying so hard to relax, honestly, but it’s just not working. I think kissing was probably it for me.’
There was a beat while Mitch adjusted to the gap between what he’d thought was going to happen and reality. ‘That’s okay.’ He nodded for a bit. ‘That’s all right.’ An awkward moment followed, the two of them looking at each other as if to say, Now what? ‘You still cold?’ he asked.