For a moment she continued to look at me sadly, but then she rearranged her features so she was looking slightly bored and I gave her another fierce hug for understanding.
"So, you and Elliot K-I-S-S-I-N-G," she sang as I headed over to my chest of drawers to start unpacking, "what's that all about?" She paused and then added, "It was Elliot, right?"
"As the only other guy I've been in contact with recently is Jonah," I pointed out, chucking my sponge bag in the vague direction of our bathroom, "I think we can safely say, yes, it was Elliot."
"Jonah's a good kisser," she said defensively, throwing herself down on her bed in a jangle of bracelets.
I smiled slightly. "Maybe so, but I'm perfectly happy taking your word for it." I shoved my last pair of undies back into the dresser and turned to see that Abi was staring at me, eyebrows raised.
"Argh, OK!" I plopped down onto my bed too and felt a strange little smirk pull at my lips. "Brace yourself for this. Elliot and I are, um, planning to pash on a regular basis."
Despite seeming to have been pushing for this result for weeks, Abi's mouth dropped open in astonishment. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" She asked slowly when she seemed to have recovered slightly from the shock. "Because this plot has clearly advanced a little since last time I checked in."
Poor Abi. From her perspective I'd gone off with Elliot to collapse into the deepest depths of grief…only to return all canoodle-y. I could see why she'd be confused. So I went through it, from the almost silent car ride at the beginning of the trip, to the one punctuated with hot kisses on the way back.
It was kind of therapeutic actually, laying it all out so that Abi and I could both pick it over. I refused to let us dwell on the Nan stuff, and, in that way, I was able to really see what had been going down with Elliot and me. It was actually quite something.
"So…" Abi said a good two hours or so later. "Elliot's not really forgiven for the whole money thing, you both know that, but you're together anyway?"
I was lying on my back by this stage, tossing a little foam stress ball we'd got free at the start of exams last year back and forth. I grimaced at the ceiling as she cut right to the heart of it; she was way too good at that. "That's pretty much the long and short of it," I had to agree.
I wasn't looking at her, but I could hear Abi's hesitation as she added, "Not traditionally the best basis for a healthy relationship."
I shrugged uncomfortably, a difficult manoeuvre as I was lying down. "It's as far as we've got."
There was a long period of silence and then I heard Abi's jewellery clanging again as she sat up, and I rolled my head round to look at her.
"Traditional or not, I think this is a good thing," she said decisively. "I like bouncy Rox and I never had a problem with Elliot even when he was your public enemy number 1."
"Traitor," I muttered.
"And, Rox?" There was a perceptible shift in Abi's tone and I braced myself. "I know you don't want to talk about Nan now, but if you ever do…"
"I know," I said, thankful that Abi would understand the combination of appreciation and frustration in my tone. "Thanks."
She was clearly going to add something else, but as she opened her mouth it got overtaken by a massive yawn and I suddenly realised how late it was. It had been an insanely full on day, but I didn't feel tired. I felt…itchy. Unsettled.
Still, I took pity on my clearly knackered best friend and we started getting ready for bed. An hour later, teeth brushed and pyjama clad, I lay in the dark, my eyes wide open and my head whirring.
The last time I'd lain awake in this same bed I'd just kissed Elliot for the first time and was trying to get my head round all the awesome and not-so-awesome elements of it. Nan had been alive, Mrs Sinclair had been a cardboard-cut-out of evil and I'd been on the fence re good-guy-Elliot versus annoying-pain in the arse-Elliot. Contrast it to only a week later and… It was weird.
My phone gave a little buzz on my bedside table and lit the room up in a pale blue. I grabbed it up before the light woke Abi and felt my stomach give a swoop as I saw the message from Elliot: This is weird.
I smiled and, despite everything, it was one of those irrepressible smiles; the kind that make your cheeks start to hurt and won't go down no matter how much you try to smooth your face out. Next thing I knew I had slipped out of bed and grabbed a jacket out of my wardrobe.
Cutting a furtive look across at a motionless Abi, I ripped a page from a nearby exercise book and scribbled a quick note which I left on my pillow. Then I slipped into some shoes, gingerly picked up my keys and let myself out of the room.
The night air was crisp as I set off and it felt good slapping against my cheeks. My inane grin popped up at random intervals as I marched along, so I at least fit in with the jovial groups of drunken uni students I passed on the pavement.
Arriving outside Elliot's flat I was amused to find myself springing about on my toes a little bit as I stopped to knock on the door; there was the bounce. I heard soft footsteps approaching from inside, then the door opened and there he was. My beau. Ha!
He was wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms, but nothing else and looked dishevelled. Instinct told me he'd been suffering the same 'it's all too odd, can't sleep' issue as me, though. His lips curved in a slow smile as he saw me and I'm pretty sure that several of my organs melted just a little bit.
Before I totally slipped down into a puddle at his feet, I lifted my chin and said what I'd gone over to say. "Yes."
Elliot quirked an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"Yes, this is weird," I explained.
His smile widened. "You know how your phone works, right? He asked. "If you want to reply to a text all you have to do is press those little buttons."
"Oh, I'm sorry," I said tartly. "Did you want me to go do that then?"
He'd reached for me even before I'd finished speaking, wrapping his arms around me and walking us both backwards into his flat.
"No," he murmured into my hair, "this is just fine."
Which is how things got less weird and more just awesome.
~*~
"Out of interest, what happens if it doesn't work out tonight?"
It was two weeks later and, after exactly 14 days of indulging in purely 'new couple' activities, Elliot and I were venturing out into the world. Unfortunately for me, tonight 'the world' consisted of a get together with Elliot's friends. I was nervous as all hell.
As just the two of us, Elliot and I were working out fine. We argued constantly because we were both good at it and it was fun, and then we'd have sex…because we were both good at it and it was fun. I didn't know if that equation was going to work so well when others were thrown into the mix, however. Arguments and sex both got a little awkward when performed in a public place.
Elliot had assured me about a hundred times that his mates now were nothing like Henderson and the like that he used to muck about with, but I still found myself chewing at my lip as we walked towards his friend Scott's house.
Well, really, how could I not be freaked out? I was used to hanging out with the scholarship kids and the ones selling everything up to, and including, their souls to attend our incredibly expensive university. Elliot's friends, however, were the sort who thought nothing of merrily trotting off on annual international trips and whose families were able to pay tuition outright.
Oh, monkeys, money.
My mind shied away from this topic like a startled horse. This was the third thing that had made the two weeks with Elliot so good; arguments, sex, and absolutely no mention of my conversation with his mum. It was a constant niggle, like a toddler tugging at my hand for attention, but I did my absolute best to ignore it.
"What if they hate me and I hate them?" I pressed, stamping down on my money thoughts with great force of will and returning to the issue at hand.
Elliot looked across at me, then slung an arm across my shoulders and pulled me in tight against him, although his words weren't as reassuring as his actions. "We
ll, you know the saying." I looked at him blankly and he smirked. "Bros before hos."
"Bros before, what exactly?" I choked, glaring at my obnoxious boyfriend. "Oh, we will be discussing that word choice later," I promised him. "At length."
He grinned and then leant forward to kiss me on the temple. "See, the thing with you is that there's always something to look forward to."
Then, presumably seeing that I wasn't feeling particularly reassured, he gave me a squeeze. "Don't worry, I asked them to put the tar and feathers away, just for tonight."
I elbowed him in the stomach, but tucked in against him, I felt a bit better. Jonah and Abi would be there too, and, in my heart of hearts, I knew Elliot wouldn't throw me to the wolves. He'd just about bitten Henderson's head off at Haze when he'd brought up my past employment and it wasn't as if we'd been doing anything half as fun then as we were now.
Entering Scott's house it was immediately obvious that it was a typical student rental, which made me feel even more reassured. No fancy toilet seat that automatically lifted for you here, it looked more like the sort of place where the toilet seat had been ripped off so someone could wear it as a hat.
15 or so people were situated around the open plan lounge room/dining room/kitchen, most of whom I recognised from the day Elliot and Jonah had returned from Papua New Guinea. The TV was showing a rugby game and this seemed to have garnered the attention of most of the guys, whilst the majority of the girls were sitting at the dining table chatting. No gender stereotypes here then.
I'd only taken in this first, brief, impression when I realised that the girl bucking the trend and sitting with the boys was the same girl who had kissed Elliot in front of me that time. The incredibly good looking one who wore side-boob revealing tops. What was her name again…? Samantha!
"Look," I hissed, dragging Elliot back as he went to walk forward, "it's the girl who thinks I'm your chambermaid."
"Only because you told her you are," he pointed out reasonably and, if I hadn't been keeping an eye on the seriously pretty girl on the couch, I would've glared at him.
Samantha tossed her thick hair over her shoulder, and then turned her head; perhaps realising someone else had entered the house. Feeling a sudden and overwhelmingly primitive desire to stake my claim on her ex-bedfellow, I squeaked and swung round to face Elliot.
"She's looking! Quick! Kiss me!"
"Always happy to oblige." He bent his head down to mine and I curled my hand around his collar to pull him close.
I very quickly forgot all about Samantha as kissing Elliot was one of those things that just didn't get old; being overwhelmed in his green scent still made me feel dizzy. When we eventually pulled away, I was breathing hard and had to rest a hand on his chest to steady myself. As I recovered, Elliot looked over my head towards the lounge room and smirked.
"Samantha's not even looking," he reported. "After any excuse, hey?"
"She was looking," I peeked round to see that, as he said, the blonde was chatting happily to some guy and not looking in the slightest bit put out by our display.
God, she really was stunning. I didn't usually give a monkey’s about what I looked like, but I couldn't help but acknowledge that Elliot and Samantha would've made a much more likely couple than Elliot and me. Oh my. Maybe Elliot smelt green, but I was the one feeling it.
"What exactly did Samantha say to you that day you got back from PNG?" I asked, thoroughly disgusted with the spiky flickers of my jealousy, but unable to stop myself asking. "You know, when she whispered in your ear before she left."
Obviously sensing that he was treading on dangerous ground, Elliot hesitated a moment before answering. "Uh, she suggested that I give her a call when the chambermaid wasn't around," he admitted in the end.
"And?" I asked archly, knowing there was more than that.
"And she sketched a brief outline of what I could expect if I made that call," he admitted, before adding quickly, "Which I didn't, by the way."
There was a strain of pure disinterest re his interaction with Samantha running through Elliot's tone and, thankfully, that seemed to satisfy the crazy, jealous alien that had momentarily used me as a host. I gave myself a little shake to make sure I was rid of her and then said awkwardly, "Ewgh, that was an unnerving new facet to my personality."
"Yeah, who knew you were the jealous-type?" He laughed, not appearing particularly bothered. In fact, I could've sworn his chest had puffed out a little. Typical.
"Not me," I said fervently. "But, it's OK, I'm normal again now."
Elliot opened his mouth, but then closed it again and shook his head. "Too easy."
"Are you guys actually going to join us at any stage, or is my front door so stimulating that you're just going to stay there and make out?"
I reddened and turned to see Scott, who I recognised from some fairly alarming photos on Elliot's facebook, twisting round on the couch to smirk at us. As the whole point of the evening was to acquaint myself with Elliot's friends, I posted a sheepish smile on my face and went to say hello.
With Elliot's arm reassuringly tight around my waist, I was introduced round the room. The guys, basic creatures that they were, obediently said hi and went back to watching the game, but the girls took a great deal more interest. Yeah, I was kind of being peered at, but I forced myself to acknowledge that for what it was, a group of friends sizing up their new addition.
Thankfully, Abi appeared at my side in the next moment and, as she dragged me down into a seat next to her, started to make the links between everyone in an undertone. They were the typical motley crew of old friends, new friends, friends of friends, girlfriends and boyfriends; nice and normal.
Well...sort of normal. It must be said that, a few hours later, I did find myself in the corner with Scott's brother, Al, who had revealed himself to be a bit of a closet military conspiracy theorist...who seemed to have misplaced his closet.
"But what about if you just accidentally press the big red button that fires the nuclear missiles?" I asked, nibbling on the edge of my plastic cup half full of tepid beer that Al had been courteous enough to bring me before starting on his rant. Maybe past experience told him that alcohol was linked to a better rate of success with his choice of topics. I'd been a bit leery of alcohol since the whole 'black out drunk' debacle, but beginning to wish I was absolutely hammered.
"There's no takesies backsies in nuclear warfare," he informed me ominously and I nodded sombrely to show that I understood the seriousness of what he was saying.
This was perhaps not the wisest of moves, however, as, apparently emboldened even by my lacklustre agreement, he launched into another rather alarming theory about unsecured armaments.
I glanced up as he rattled on, hoping to see Elliot, Abi or Jonah nearby and garner their assistance. It wasn't that Al wasn't a nice guy, it was just that it was beginning to feel like I'd spent the last decade talking to him, and his fervent belief in the imminent outbreak of World War Three was probably going to give me nightmares.
My rescuers of choice, however, were nowhere to be seen, and my desperate gaze only seemed to have been picked up by one other person. Oh dear.
"Seriously, Al, you're not back on that end of the word stuff again, are you?"
With a flick of her shimmering golden hair Samantha was upon us, giving Al a friendly shove which he returned with a slightly shame-faced smile.
"He's not freaking you out, is he?" She asked me. "Because, honestly, I didn't sleep for a week after our first conversation."
"Hey, Al!" I didn't get the chance to respond to Samantha as there was a sudden shout from over by the TV. "Isn't this the ad with that chick you like?"
Apparently the end of the world was no match for a beer ad with a scantily-clad girl in it and Al waved a vague farewell and ambled off to get his perve on.
So…
I'd spent quite a while sitting with the girls earlier and had found them to be a good group. I hadn't really had much to contribute to the
conversation, rather I'd sat quietly and started to come round to the idea that Elliot had good taste in his choice in peers after all. Samantha, however, was a different barrel of monkeys altogether. The memory of how I'd felt talking to her on Elliot's return from PNG still smarted, and hearing what she'd said to him then hadn't helped either.
Still, she didn't seem to have any trouble with me as she rolled her eyes in a conspiratorial 'aren't boys such losers' kind of way and said, "Sorry about him. His dad's some really high rank in the military and I think he heard too many 'and then we nearly killed everyone' stories at the dinner table growing up."
"Rich people and their daddy issues," I said knowingly, before remembering that she was one of Elliot's posh posse and grimacing. "Sorry."
"No problem," she shifted from one incredibly flattering pose to another and I wondered if she even had a bad angle. "Just for the record, though, my dad's great."
"Yay," I cheered weakly, not really sure how else to respond.
"So," she said after a moment's awkward silence, during which I did another desperate scout for Abi, "you've got Elliot kind of infatuated, hey?"
Well, that got my attention. "I do?" I asked, startled.
So far, Elliot and I had described each other as colours and I'd surprised a brief 'you're awesome' out of him with the presentation of a slingshot. Beyond that there'd been plenty of fond, and not so fond, 'you're an idiot' sort of comments, but this was the first time something as intense as 'infatuation' had been suggested.
"Well...yeah. Didn't you know?" She seemed suspicious of my surprise, but I could only shrug at her narrowed eyes. "Look, full disclosure," she said suddenly, in the alarming tone of someone about to say something off-putting, "Elliot and I had a thing a while ago, just after Sophie broke up with him. And, honestly, I wouldn't have minded it keeping going, but ever since Papua New Guinea, his head's totally been somewhere else. I didn't realise until tonight that that was because of you."
It was a lot to take in. The weird jealousy alien within me wasn't sure whether it was enraged or calmed. Feeling that I at least had to say something to acknowledge her honesty, I mumbled, "Right, well, um...sorry my boyfriend won't sleep with you anymore."
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