by Jo Watson
“Neither. Social media repulses me.”
“Um…?” I was running out of questions. “Okay, describe yourself in five words.”
He flashed that mischievous grin again. “Funny. Devilishly good-looking. Sexy as hell and—”
“That’s more than five words.”
We looked at each other for a few amused seconds before laughing again.
“Okay, I have one more, actually two,” I said. “How did you become a comedy guy? And why are you so afraid of water?” As soon as I’d asked the question his mood changed. His smile was gone and he looked serious. I hadn’t expected that reaction.
“Honestly…?” he asked, leaning forward and looking directly at me.
“Well, aren’t the fundamental pillars of any successful relationship honesty?”
“Okay, honestly…when I was at school I was the fat nerdy kid.”
“No,” I gasped, looking him up and down.
“I’m serious. I was this big, fat, nerdy kid with glasses and braces. The kids used to tease and bully me. They called me…” He paused for the longest time as if the memory still had a physical hold over him. I guess it did. “They called me Svetty, another reason I dropped that name.”
“No. That’s terrible.”
“And the only way I could deal with it, or get people to like me, was to become the funny one. So I became the funny fat guy.”
“Wow!” I didn’t really know what to say. I felt my heart break a bit, imagining that little kid getting teased on the playground. Jane had been teased a lot at school. She’s adopted and looks nothing like the rest of her family. She’s also unusually tall, unique-looking and even has two different-colored eyes. Talk about a walking target! So I’d seen firsthand how devastating and life-altering teasing could be. I know she’s still dealing with the effects of it, and I could see Chris was, too.
“But now you’re good-looking, rich, and successful,” I offered enthusiastically.
“Yes, and it’s funny how all the girls only like me like this.”
Something flickered in my mind, and a little thought started forming. Of course he didn’t believe in real love, if he’d only experienced it as conditional; more specifically, conditional to how he looked, or how well he was doing.
“And water?” I asked. The mood had definitely changed. It was far more serious, and I wondered when Chris was going to throw in a funny comment to lure me off this line of questioning. Only he didn’t.
“Let’s just say that the bullies thought it would be funny to push me in the pool and then keep pushing me and pulling me down until I thought I was going to die.”
“That’s horrible.” I reached out and touched his arm.
He shrugged. And here came the casual downplaying. “What can you do, kids can be cruel.”
“But that wasn’t right. I’m sorry it happened to you.”
He shrugged again and I could see was searching for some witty retort. A joke, some humorous subterfuge. This time I wasn’t going to let him, though.
“And I’m sorry your parents got divorced. Mine did, too, and it sucks. I know.”
Chris started fiddling with a small piece of palm that had fallen on the table. I was starting to realize that he fiddled when he was uncomfortable. “It was my best friend’s mom, you know.” His voice was soft and he looked completely vulnerable. “He was my only friend really, but after that we didn’t speak much.”
My hand was still resting on his arm and I tightened my grip.
“In a way, I actually introduced them. My dad to her.”
“You don’t think it’s your fault, do you?”
“Well, if I hadn’t been friends with her son—”
“No.” I stopped him dead. “It had nothing to do with you, you get that, right?”
“When you’re six years old it’s all a bit confusing. Especially when your mother climbs into bed one day and doesn’t come out for a while.”
“I’m sure it is.” God, I wanted to hug him. To throw my arms around him and tell him it was all okay, and make him feel better. He didn’t deserve to feel this way, and if I thought I was attracted to him before, I liked him even more now. Funny Chris was great, but this Chris…was perfect.
“So that’s me, Annie Anne. My wildly traumatic story. Now tell me about you. And make it as traumatic as possible, so I can feel good about myself.” He was back to being funny Chris again.
“Okay…my parents also got divorced when I was sixteen. It’s nothing dramatic like your story, they just grew apart.”
“What else?”
“I hate Wednesdays.” I don’t know why I said it, it kind of just came out.
“Why?”
“Hump day. You know, right in the middle of the week.”
Chris laughed. “What else?”
“Well, I have a sister and a brother-in-law, they’re great. I have a gorgeous little niece who has these chubby little cheeks that you just want to eat.”
“Yeah. I love kids,” Chris said.
“Really?” This statement caught me off guard. He didn’t seem like the type who would like kids, not that I knew what that type looked like, exactly.
“My ex has a son, he was three when we got together. He was pretty awesome; in fact, a few years down the line he was actually the only reason I was staying in the relationship…hence the pasta strainer.” His voice was softer now and his fun demeanor had faded away.
“You must miss him,” I said.
“I do see him from time to time, but it’s not really the same.”
“So you want to be a dad one day?” I asked.
“Sure. That would be cool.”
“But you don’t believe in love and marriage?” I asked.
“Maybe I’ll just pull an Angelina or Madonna and get myself an orphan. They’re very fashionable in Hollywood these days.” He was all smiles again, as if he could turn it on and off at the snap of his fingers.
“But enough about me…you still haven’t given me any angst, Annie.”
“Angst. Oh, you mean, besides the fact I walked in on my future husband cheating and my whole fucking life fell into a large pile of crap.”
“Your whole life hasn’t fallen apart.”
“Oh, trust me. It has. I’m not the person I was before it happened. I have no idea where the hell that Annie went.”
“Maybe the new version of Annie is a better one?”
“No, she’s terrible. She’s lame, she’s always making an idiot of herself, she’s insecure and—”
“I think she’s fucking great.” His words stopped my talking. “I think she’s perfect, just the way she is.” And now they stopped my heart.
“Why are you being so nice to me, saying all these things?”
“Hey, what are fake boyfriends for?”
And then my heart plummeted. Of course, I’d almost forgotten, none of this was real. This was all part of the script we were playing out.
A loud noise made us both jump and we turned to investigate. I looked at the wall of jungle-like palm trees. The noise was definitely coming from there. And then suddenly a hand appeared.
I jumped.
What the hell was a hand doing all the way up there in the palm tree?
And then another hand appeared, and the two hands pushed the palm fronds apart to reveal a face.
It was Trevv.
And he was beaming at us dangerously.
“Busted!” he shouted, waggling a finger in the air.
Oh God, this was it, he’d heard our entire conversation and now this game with Chris was over before it had even begun.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Chris and I exchanged nervous looks. I could see he was thinking the exact same thing as I was.
“Busted, what?” I finally managed to stutter. If this was it, Trevv should just get it over with instead of dragging it out.
“Busted having fun.”
And then he burst out laughing and both Chris and I joined in. It was
n’t a forced laugh, either. It was genuine, the kind that comes from total relief.
“But seriously, howdy, neighbors!” he said, attempting a terribly cheesy Australian accent. It was almost as bad as Chris’s.
Why, pray tell, was he doing that? There seemed to be no way of shaking the T-Squared scourge. They were like an irritating rash that wouldn’t go away. That itch that was impossible to scratch. That big, painful pimple in the place you couldn’t reach to pop, or that unwanted pile. And God, I wished I could pop his little head right now. Trevv had obviously gone to a lot of trouble to get the other presidential suite, just to be next to us.
But why?
To get one up on us again?
Was he really so egotistical that he couldn’t bear the idea that our room was bigger and better than his? (Swinging his dick in the wind again.)
“Heya, guys.” Then Tess’s face appeared, sandwiched between Trevv and a big green palm leaf that looked like it was poking her in the eye.
They looked absurd.
Two little heads completely surrounded by green foliage.
Looking at us.
Blinking and smiling.
I was starting to get the distinct impression that perhaps they were both psychotic, bordering on the edge of lunacy. And then just to prove my point, as if I needed any more convincing, Trevv uttered the unthinkable.
“Do you want to join us for some rooftop drinks?” Bright white dental advert smile again.
Pause.
Let’s take a moment to reflect here, please…
They—cheating, heartbreaking boyfriend, and gorgeous slutty mistress—were asking us to have drinks with them. As if nothing was wrong. As if nothing had ever transpired between us. Long-lost friends, buddies, pals. I take back that “bordering” part; these two were certifiable. And the sooner they were certified, the bloody better.
The only reason Trevv was asking us for drinks was so he could take center stage in his one-man show entitled My Wonderful, Super-Awesome Life. I’m sure all he wanted to do was tell us about his new sports car, his successful new firm, his amazing sex life, and his blessed joys. #happiness #blessed #lifeisgreat #love #mylifeiswayfuckingbetterthanyourlifesobegreenwithenvy
“I don’t think so…,” I started, but didn’t get very far.
“Absolutely!” Chris shouted.
“What?” I shot him sharp dagger eyes. “Absolutely not. We can’t. We were just about to…to…” I couldn’t think of one thing that sounded like a good enough excuse to get out of drinks and my brain was frantically scrambling for something. “I’ve stopped drinking.” I declared as confidently as I could.
Trevv’s eyes drifted down to the table where two glasses of wine sat. Shit.
“As of now! I’ve stopped drinking as of right now.” I smiled at him stupidly.
Trevv and Tess nodded and their heads finally disappeared behind the leaves. I swung around and glared at Chris. “Why the hell did you say yes?” I demanded.
He shrugged. “I thought it would be funny. And weird. We would have come back with enough fodder to mock them for the next year!”
“Hey.” I stepped forward assertively. “Do I have to remind you again that this is not character research for one of your movies? Or some fun, entertaining story line for your personal amusement. This is my life.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry, it would have been horrible to put you in such an awkwa—”
“HAHAHAHAH!”
POP!
Raucous laughter pierced the air, followed by the loud pop of a champagne bottle, followed by a thud, as the cork—which had no doubt been intentionally aimed in our direction—flew onto our deck and bounced a few times, before falling into the pool with a tiny splash.
We stared at it. This foreign body, bobbing up and down in our pool. And then…
“HAHAHA!”
CLINK!
“CHEERS!”
It was loud. Too loud. They were doing it deliberately. Trying to smear their merriment in our faces.
“Oh my God, they’re not?” Chris walked over to the balcony and peered through a crack in the palms. I joined him to see that Trevv and Tess were toasting and drinking champagne as if they were in one of those glamorous overlit alcohol adverts.
“We cannot let them get away with this,” Chris said, running inside and returning with two bottles of champagne. “Okay, on the count of two, I’ll pop this one, and on the count of three, you pop the other one.” He handed me the bottle and readied himself.
This was ludicrous. “No, I’m not going to do that. I refuse to be pulled into this game.” But then…
“Hello, is this room service?” It was Trevv. “Please can you bring me a bottle of Henri Jayer Richebourg Grand Cru, Cotê de Nuits, and your platter of lobster and oysters.”
I looked at Chris. “Okay, on one, two…”—Chris popped his bottle—“and three…” I popped mine. The corks flew in different directions and champagne gushed out all over the place.
And then we burst out laughing. Not fake, forced laughter like T-Squared, but genuine laughter that rises up from the pit of your stomach and reverberates throughout your entire body.
“If I had a helicopter right now,” Chris said between laughs, “I would take off from this roof and wave down at them as if they were mere peasants, or if I was a big Mafia boss who kept a suitcase of cash in his trunk, I would throw it in the air and let it shower down on them. Then I would set the rest on fire while swimming in my diamond-encrusted pool of Cristal.”
We laughed, louder than Trevv and Tess—which I imagine must have really pissed them off. But when the pain in our stomachs and cheeks became too much to bear, we collapsed onto the big comfortable daybed. We were still holding the bottles of champagne and I had no idea what to do with mine, I’d never liked the stuff. Bitter, sour, massive-headache-inducing dreck.
“I hate champagne,” Chris said, plonking his bottle down on the floor next to him.
“Me too.”
“It’s so bitter.”
“And sour,” I added.
“Like cat pee.” Chris inevitably took it a step further.
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”
We were seated about a foot or so away from each other, and I could actually feel the heat coming off his body. It became so intense that at some stage, it was all I could feel. The space between us buzzed and crackled with some kind of electrical charge. It prickled my skin and made my palms sticky.
“Wow!” I sat forward.
“Wow what?”
Oh shit. Did I say that out loud? I had. Hopefully he had no idea what it was in reference to. It could easily be interpreted as “Wow, amazing weather” or “Wow, interesting night.”
But then Chris smiled and said it back. “Wow!” His voice was whispery and strange and I knew that he’d felt it, too. We let the implications of our wows wash over us. Something strange was happening. Something that I couldn’t quite explain—
SPLISH. SPLASH. GIGGLE. GIGGLE.
I was immensely grateful when Trevv and Tess’s loud water splashing shattered the moment that was starting to make my skin crawl. They were obviously cavorting in their plunge pool and I was about to suggest we get in, too, and splash even louder, when I heard some familiar sounds.
They were not?!?!?
Tess giggled breathily.
Trevv moaned slightly.
I turned and looked at Chris. He raised his eyebrows. “You’re kidding.”
I shook my head. “I think they are!”
“No, they’re not.” He sounded adamant. “They can’t be?”
“It hasn’t stopped them in the past.”
“Ooohhh.” *Giggle, giggle giggle* “Trevv.” *Whisper, whisper, whisper*
I felt positively nauseous.
My stomach turned itself inside out as I imagined the two of them in the pool. I wondered if his nipple clamps were waterproof. This was bringing back a barrage of painful feelings. I felt slightly dizzy
and uneasy on my feet as my head swam with the memories and images from that fateful day.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Come on, let’s go watch a movie.”
We walked downstairs and sat on the couch in total silence for a while.
“If it’s any consolation, I hate them,” Chris said while cracking open a bag of chips and crunching one loudly for added effect.
“But you think Tess is so hot.” I couldn’t believe I’d actually said that out loud. It sounded so childish and shallow, but the fact that she was so hot definitely hurt. I would be lying if I said it hadn’t been a blow to my ego.
“I…I felt like the ugly duckling being kicked out of the nest for the swan.” My voice quivered slightly as I spoke, and I couldn’t believe I’d just said that out loud.
“Jesus!” The volume and firmness in his voice surprised me and I looked up. “You’re crazy.”
“You can’t deny it, Chris. She’s smoking hot. She’s basically sex on legs. Any man would let her clamp his nipples, just to be near her!”
“I’ll admit that when you first see her, she’s pretty hot, but she’s also the most irritating person I’ve ever met.” He jumped up off the couch and started doing a Tess impersonation in a high-pitched squeaky voice, “Oooh, the flowers are like our blooming love, my ring is so shiny and sparkly, giggle giggle, oh, Trevvy, you’re the best!”
He paused to see my reaction. “Trust me. All her hotness fades away the second you spend more than a minute in her company. Besides…” His voice softened slightly. “Besides, you’re beautiful.”
Wowza.
My body temperature rose by a hundred degrees, but then it dropped again. This wasn’t real. None of this was real.
“You can cut out the whole fake boyfriend stuff now, no one is watching.”
“It’s not fake, Annie.” Without warning, Chris slid closer to me.
“It’s…it’s not?” Tongue tying, legs turning to cooked spaghetti, pulse like a racehorse, dizzying thoughts…it was happening again.
“I mean it, you’re really very…” A little pause. A beat. A moment filled with anticipation. And then in one more little movement, he was right next to me. Looking. What was he doing?
My eyes drifted to his lips for some reason, and the second they did, he smiled.