This Is Now

by Maggie Gilbert

  ‘Christ, your hands are freezing.’ He pushed my hands away from the zipper and did it up, pausing only to push my hair out of the way before he zipped it to my chin.

  I stood, frozen by more than just the cold, and stared up at him. Was he for real? Was he secretly some psycho serial killer? No guy could be this hot, this talented, this charming and this, this — well, nice. I couldn’t read him at all, much as I wanted to. About as much as I wanted him to wrap his hands into the front of the jacket and pull me closer and —

  ‘Good night, Jess.’

  — kiss me.

  Damn. I watched him open the passenger door and slide onto the front seat, and I shoved my cold, shaking hands into the pocket of the jacket, his jacket, and ridiculously felt like crying.

  Anna revved the engine, impatient, and I almost swallowed my heart, snatching a sharp glance over my shoulder at the dark front windows of our house. It was early enough that the boys should still be out, but it was also a bit on the early side for Mum to have passed out yet. Or to have gone to bed with her latest loser boyfriend. I squeezed my thighs together, horribly reminded that I had a seriously full bladder, and turned to go inside.

  ‘I’ll call you, Jess,’ Sebastien said, just before I heard the car door slam. I turned back, half way to a hopeful smile, but Anna shoved the car into gear with an ugly crunch that indicated a short and painful lifespan for the gearbox and shot off.

  As I duck-waddled quickly and without care for my dignity, now that Sebastien was no longer around to see it, I was almost energised with happiness that at least he wanted to call me.

  Until I remembered, as I settled with blissful relief onto the cold cracked seat of the extra loo at the back of the house, that he hadn’t actually asked for my number. He could ask Anna, sure, but I figured that was wishful thinking.

  I flushed the loo and ducked through the next doorway into the bathroom, washed my hands and then cleaned my face properly with makeup remover, and brushed my teeth. I was swaying with tiredness by then so I skipped flossing, promising my reflection I’d do it twice tomorrow. My reflection looked sceptical, sure, but mainly too tired to put up much of an argument. Grabbing my hair brush, I shrugged and turned out the light. Going down the hall, I crept past my mother’s closed bedroom door, turned a corner, and went into my room. As I turned to shut the door, reaching for the light switch, someone moved in the darkness behind me.

  ‘Hey gorgeous,’ Jay said, and I bit back the shriek that wanted to come out and wake the entire neighbourhood, and managed a muffled grunt instead. I swung at Jay, clipping his shoulder, my heart pounding in hard, sickening thumps.

  ‘Ow, Jess!’

  I groped for the light switch, finally turning it on, and smacked him again.

  ‘Shut up, you’ll wake everyone up.’

  ‘Nobody’s home yet. Ow, jeez, stop hitting me!’

  ‘What are you doing, sneaking around in here, you idiot? You scared the shit out of me.’

  Jay, blinking in the light, looked both goggle eyed and a bit sheepish. His dark blonde hair was sticking up crazily all over his head and his face was creased and puffy looking. I glanced at my bed, took in the thrown back doona, my face flushing as I realised he’d been waiting for me. In my bed. Without me inviting him there.

  Embarrassment and anger surged in my blood. It might seem stupid, considering I’d been in his bed just the night before, but my room was my sanctuary. It was the only private place I had.

  Jay followed the direction of my gaze and looked even more sheepish. He’d grow wool next.

  ‘I didn’t think you’d be so late. I got tired.’

  I put my hair brush down on the bookshelf and started unzipping the jacket. Jay frowned.

  ‘Whose jacket is that?’

  What, did he have a freaking sixth sense now? Or had he not been asleep at all, but perhaps waiting in the lounge room. I shook myself. Yeah, smoking pot had seemed so harmless, but it was still making me paranoid.

  ‘It’s Anna’s brother’s.’ There, that should shut him up. We didn’t discuss Anna, she was definitely the elephant in the room of our on-off relationship.

  Jay’s narrowed blue eyes flickered from the jacket, to my face.

  ‘Why are you wearing Anna’s brother’s jacket?’

  ‘It was cold.’ I slipped it off and draped it over the back of the chair at the small battered desk where I did my homework. Attempted to do my homework. Taking a look at Jay’s scowling expression, I added: ‘Anna and I went to the club and her brother tagged along.’

  ‘What’s he like?’

  A loaded question if I ever heard one. I shrugged. ‘He’s OK. He’s younger than her.’ I played it down, so he wouldn’t get jealous. Once I’d have done the opposite but not these days. ‘Why?’

  ‘Just curious.’

  ‘You should ask Anna.’

  Jay gave me a reproachful glance, and I shrugged. I reached up to start taking out the combs and pins that held my hair in place.

  As if reminded, Jay deliberately ran his hands through his hair, smoothing it down. His eyes, however, dropped to scan the front of my body, now my outfit was uncovered.

  ‘You look edible,’ he said, grinning.

  ‘Thanks,’ I said automatically. Had I ever thought that kind of comment was sexy? I winced, half at the bobby pin snarled in my hair, half at how easy it was to have that thought after spending the evening with Sebastien. But he wasn’t here now, was he? Hadn’t even asked for my number. I wondered if Anna had put him up to it for some reason. Spending all that time with me. Maybe they had some sick game they played, picking up from our neighbourhood, just a walk on the dark side for them. It was so obvious, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it sooner. Or maybe that stupid dope-induced paranoia again, who knew. It all made my head just about explode.

  ‘Which club did you go to?’

  ‘Nikki’s.’

  ‘I went there, but I didn’t see you.’

  My stomach lurched and I turned away from him quickly, reaching for my brush. Had he seen me with Sebastien? Was he just leading me on to see if I tripped myself up with a lie? I started brushing my hair, taking my time before I answered.

  ‘I didn’t see you either. We must have missed each other. Did you go early? Because Anna dragged me along to some stupid concert her brother was playing at first.’

  ‘Concert?’

  ‘Yeah. Classical music. He plays the violin or something.’

  ‘Right.’ Jay lost interest. He came across the room and took the brush out of my hand. ‘I missed you, though. I really wanted to see you.’

  ‘Yeah?’ I said. Jay ran the brush through my long hair, careful not to yank it on the few tangles I hadn’t got to, and I could have purred. I loved having my hair brushed, washed, braided, whatever. The best part of going to Michelle’s salon was having her wash my hair for me and massage my scalp.

  ‘Yeah. Last night was great. It reminded me how good we are together.’ He slid the brush through my hair with a slow, steady rhythm, clearing the last of the tangles. I closed my eyes, relaxing under his hands. He pushed my hair to one side, baring my neck, and I felt his lips press against my skin once, twice, and again, following the line of my shoulder. I shivered, and tilted my head, and he sucked gently on the spot right where my neck joined my body, knowing it was sensitive. I sighed, and leaned back into his caresses, eyes closed, my skin prickling.

  Don’t do this again, don’t let him get to you. But as his hand moved up along my ribs, over my boobs, moved on to lightly rub my collar bone, I was lost in the comfort of familiar sensations.

  I’d wished so many times that I’d waited until I met Jay, that it had been him who punched my v-card and not some stupid arsehole from my school who’d dumped me as soon as he got what he wanted. I guess I should have listened to the gossip, that he was trying to shag as many of the younger girls as he could, now that he’d finished year 12 and was leaving. Troy had tracked him down and put him in th
e hospital, but I hadn’t asked him to do that and it didn’t make me feel any better. OK, so maybe it had made me feel a bit better that he’d had some hurt of his own, but it didn’t take mine away. Growing up in the neighbourhood I had, I’d been as much humiliated by being so gullible as I was by being used. I really should have known better.

  Now, as Jay cupped his hand to my jaw and pulled my face around for a kiss, I had a fleeting thought that maybe part of my problem with Jay was I felt like I owed him for something. I was trying to make it up to him, even though I had no idea what ‘it’ was. Last night and this morning I’d been crawling with guilt for going to bed with Jay when I knew he was seeing Anna, and tonight at the club I’d had flashes of guilt for having so much fun with Sebastien, even though I wasn’t committed to Jay. Or wasn’t I?

  Why couldn’t I make up my mind about him?

  He kissed me in a way I knew meant business, tongue sliding in to tangle with mine, and it was so warm, so good, so safe. He turned me in his arms, and pulled me closer, and I could feel how much he wanted me, the hardness of him pushing against my belly.

  I knew who Jay was, where he came from, what he wanted. He had an icy-bad rep, but I also knew he’d never do anything to hurt me. For all that he was a bad boy to the rest of the world, to me, he felt safe. He made me feel safe.

  And so when he steered me towards the bed, I went.

  Chapter 5

  My phone alarm shrilled in my ear and I fumbled beneath the pillow for it, seeking the snooze button with sleep fuddled fingers.

  Finding it, I snuggled back into my pillow, brain sluggishly hovering on the brink of dozing back off. Friday. Classes. Haven’t done my essay, got that test today. Should have studied last night instead of clubbing with Sebastien or yet again sleeping with Sebastien’s sister’s boyfriend.

  I opened my eyes wide, checking that Jay wasn’t crashed out beside me or something, but the returning memory of him creeping out at some ungodly hour mustn’t have been a dream or a flashback after all. I was such an idiot.

  I groaned and draped my arm over my face. I was so not ready to face the whole morning drama of getting up and getting ready, or the irritating and aggravating does he/doesn’t he, was I an idiot/was I not drama on an endless loop like when you get a song stuck in your head after hearing it on the radio, only worse. And now I had a double dose to torture myself with.

  I grabbed the pillow and stuck my head under it, and when the snooze delayed alarm on my phone went off it nearly deafened me.

  Screw it, I may as well get up.

  Half an hour later, showered, dressed, teeth brushed, I was out the door and on my way to the bus stop. I hadn’t eaten (there was no bread for toast), wasn’t totally awake despite the hot shower and lengthy hair- and face-washing and until I got a coffee (no milk either) I was going to be barely human. Leaning against a pole to ease the weight of my backpack, I took out my coin purse and peered into it.

  I had a rule; I could only buy coffees if I had the small change to cover it. Notes and gold had to go into savings. I really needed coffee this morning, so I counted coins a little more hopefully than usual, but, also as usual, I hoped in vain. I was about ninety cents short. What was a dollar, you might think, on a bright but cold morning when I was in dire need of a nice strong latte for my caffeine fix?

  The thin edge of the wedge, that’s what. Regretfully, I zipped my purse and tucked it back into my pack. I’d seen what giving in to that ‘just a little bit won’t hurt’ mentality had done to my mother, and even, to a lesser extent, to my brothers. I wasn’t going to go down that same path. Somehow, someday, I was going to do better. I was going to get a job, get a car, move away from here. Get into Uni and actually have a crack at the career I wanted rather than just cave into Michelle’s offers of a hairdressing apprenticeship. Rent somewhere of my own, maybe one day even buy a place I could call my own. Or travel, I hadn’t decided yet. But I wasn’t planning on staying here.

  My phone beeped, and I almost swallowed my heart. It was from Jay. I just had to go there again, didn’t I? Wrong guy and the wrong time. That had been the story of my sister’s life, until she shocked us all by leaving when she got pregnant and dumped in the same week. I didn’t want to believe I was just repeating the same mistakes she made, even if I was at least smart enough to be on the pill and insist on condoms. I didn’t want that kind of life at all. I just didn’t know how. Or if it was even possible.

  As I was walking down the hall between lectures, my phone beeped again. Guiltily, I realised I hadn’t answered Jay. I’d send him something short and sweet once I got into the class room; if I stopped here I’d be late.

  My phone rang; I’d been in such a fog I’d forgotten to switch it to silent. Five minutes from now that would get me in trouble for ‘disrespecting the learning environment’. Most of the teachers turned a blind eye to a bit of texting, but not anything else. Bloody Jay, couldn’t wait half an hour at a time, never thought I might be doing something important.

  ‘Hello,’ I said impatiently.

  ‘Jess?’

  I stopped, and someone walking behind me slammed into me, swearing, but I didn’t care. I’d recognised Sebastien’s voice instantly.

  ‘How did you get my number?’

  ‘From Anna, of course.’

  Of course. I gave myself a forehead smack. But not too hard. He already thought I was stupid without me knocking myself unconscious while he was on the line.

  I searched my un-caffeinated sleep-deprived brain for something witty or flirty or even half-way intelligent to say. Yeah. Most inconveniently, all that was going through my brain was the guilt-dog, chasing its own tail: you slept with Jay and you’re taking to Sebastien, you slept with Jay and you’re talking to Sebastien. You’re a slut, you’re a slut, you don’t deserve a guy like this, you’re a slut, you’re a sl— enough already! I’d been silent too long, and I wondered if he was still there.

  ‘Uh, is it OK that I called?’

  ‘Yes!’ Down, girl. ‘Yes, of course.’ Could I sound any more like I was gagging for it? Maybe I should have knocked myself unconscious.

  ‘Good good. So, I was wondering, if you were doing anything tonight?’

  My heart leaped, and then did a massive belly flop. Damn, I was working.

  ‘I am, actually.’

  ‘Oh.’

  He sounded disappointed. I think. I clapped my hand over my other ear and huddled against the closed door of a class room.

  ‘I’m working,’ I added.

  ‘What time do you start?’

  ‘I have to be there at five.’

  ‘Oh. What time do you finish classes?’

  ‘Four o’clock, but it takes me that long to get changed and get there.’

  ‘Right.’

  I pressed my teeth into my lip, considering.

  ‘I should be finished by nine or so, if that’s not too late?’

  ‘Not too late at all. Can I pick you up?’

  ‘Better if I meet you somewhere. I don’t know exactly what time I’ll get out.’

  ‘OK.’ He suggested a couple of places I knew and I picked one that was an easy walk from work where the coffee and cake was good and the prices weren’t a total rip off. We agreed that I’d text him if I was going to be later than nine thirty but if not, I’d see him there.

  It was only after I hung up that I realised the hall had emptied. Swearing, I slung my back pack over my shoulder and ran. And it wasn’t until lunch time, when I checked my phone and saw three missed calls, that I realised I’d also forgotten to reply to Jay.

  School sucked the first time and now, at TAFE, it sucked again. Why did it have to be so friggin’ hard? I didn’t see the point of making us fail all the time, and loading us with so much homework that it was impossible to get through it all. It wasn’t exactly the same at TAFE, a lot of the teachers left it up to you whether you did your work or not, but that just made me feel worse. I wished I could time-travel and be back at high s
chool, and this time actually listen in class and do my work instead of partying most nights of the week and skipping school most days. If I’d realised I wanted to go to Uni sooner, I might have had a crack at getting my HSC the first time. But I didn’t, so I hadn’t. Too bad.

  I stared down at the maths test on the desk in front of me and chomped on the end of my pen, my eyes burning. I’d been looking at it for twenty minutes, but nothing had changed. It still could have been printed in a foreign language for all the sense I could make of it.

  Maths was a foreign language, I guess; maybe that was the whole point.

  I glanced up, accidentally catching the eye of my teacher. Smug prick. I quickly dropped my glance back to the paper in front of me. He was the only teacher at TAFE I didn’t like. Actually, that wasn’t quite true. I hated him. I was pretty sure the feeling was mutual, the way he liked to call on me in class when he knew I had absolutely no idea what the answer was.

  ‘Problem, Miss Carter?’

  Yeah, see what I mean?

  ‘No,’ I said. I’d give a lot to see that smirk wiped off his face but at least he was the first one to look away this time. And a couple of the girls in my class thought he was hot. Seriously, I don’t know what drugs they were on.

  I stuck my pen back in my mouth and chewed thoughtfully for a bit, scanning the questions, slowly turning page after page. Nope, the answers hadn’t magically come to me; maybe I’d have a better chance of that happening if I actually understood the questions, but that hadn’t magically occurred either.

  This was hopeless. I was hopeless.

  No, don’t think like that. You can do this.

  I turned the test back to the first page, and tried to compose myself. OK. The first part was multiple choice. That meant two options were ridiculous, so I only had to choose between two answers. That gave me a fifty percent chance at getting the right answer. Hey, I just did maths, woohoo.