Just Stay

by Michelle Abbott

  Fay lies back and rests her hands behind her head. “I’ve been bored without you. I’ve been to a couple of parties.” She sits up suddenly and rests her hand on my arm. “You’ll never guess who Antonio is dating.” She doesn’t wait for my response. “He’s going out with Lori, she’s a total slut.”

  Two weeks ago that news would have bothered me, but now I couldn’t care less. “They’re welcome to each other.”

  Fay giggles. “Yeah. I heard Antonio’s a crap kisser anyhow, apparently he slobbers.”

  I hear my phone beep, I’ve got a text.

  Did you get home safe?

  Fay reads it from over my shoulder. “Oh my God. Is that him? I thought you said it didn’t work out.”

  “It didn’t.” I frown and stare at my phone. I can feel my heart speeding up.

  “Are you going to reply?” Fay asks.

  I shrug my shoulders. “I guess.” I type out my message.

  Home safe. Are you on the hill?

  Seconds later I get a response.

  Am on bedroom floor. Get a signal there, remember.

  And then I get another message.

  Friended Jake on Facebook.

  Fay squeals. “He likes you.” I smile and roll my eyes at her. My phone beeps again

  Sent you a friend request.

  Fay reaches for her laptop and puts it on her bed. She sits crossed legged in front of it. “What’s your Facebook log in, Pia?” I frown at her, nudge her out of the way, and log myself in. Fay snatches her laptop back and accepts Trey’s friend request. “I’m going to check out his page,” she says. I lie back and close my eyes. Once she gets an idea in her head there’s no stopping her. I hear her breath in sharply. “My God, Pia, he’s beautiful. He’s a bloody work of art. No wonder you’re miserable.”

  I frown. “I’m not miserable.”

  “Let’s see who he’s friends with,” she says.

  “You’re a borderline stalker,” I tell her.

  She grins at me. “If he didn’t want me to see, he wouldn’t have sent me a friend request. Would he?”

  I sit up and glare at her. “He didn’t send you a friend request, he sent it to me.”

  Fay shrugs. “Minor detail.”

  I lie back down.

  “Oooh, this guy Ash is hot,” she says.

  I reach for Fay’s teddy bear and stroke my fingers over its soft fur.

  Fay’s dad calls up. “Fay, it’s almost time for dinner.”

  “I’ll chat with you online later,” I tell her.

  By the time I get back Mum has made dinner. Just a ham salad because she’s been busy unpacking. I sit down at the dining table. Dad fills the wine glasses. The television is on in the background, the weather report says it will be raining for the next few days. I guess summer is over already. Jake bolts down his food and then disappears to his room. I put my dirty plate in the dishwasher and head up to my bedroom. I flop down on my bed and close my eyes. Why did he text me? I wonder what he wants. Sighing, I get up from my bed and move over to my desk. I stroke the leaves of my mint plant, and then I log into Facebook. There’s a photo on Trey’s page of him and another guy at the beach. They’re both holding surf boards. I figure the other guy must be his brother because he looks like Trey, but taller. I notice Trey’s hair was longer back then, he looks hot but I prefer his hair short. I glance at his friend list and bite my lip. He has at least thirty female friends, and they are all beautiful. I get a message from Trey asking if I want to skype. I put on my headphones and log in.

  “Hey Pee Aitch, did you miss me?”

  I love his husky voice. “What do you want? Are you trying to enlist me into your harem?”

  “Harem?”

  I sigh. “Your Facebook Harem, I’m looking at them now. You have a collection of beauties there, Trey.”

  “I don’t speak to most of them anymore. I haven’t got around to unfriending them.”

  I shut down my browser; I don’t want to look at them anymore. “What is it you want, Trey? What do you want to talk to me about?”

  “I don’t have a speech planned, Pee Aitch. I just want to talk.”

  I clench my fists. “Why bother. You didn’t want to talk to me while I was there.” I take a deep breath, close my eyes and unclench my fingers. “We can’t bite each other’s heads off in person, so now we’re doing it via skype.”

  “Correction,” he says. “You’re biting my head off.”

  I glare at my laptop screen. “I’ve got to go, I’m busy.” I log out before he has chance to respond.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Trey

  I thump my head against my desk. That didn’t go to plan. I didn’t mean to piss her off. I study my list of Facebook friends. I can see why Pia got mad, there must be about thirty women and they’re all hot, but Pia leaves them in the dust. I don’t even know why I friended all these people. I shake my head, lonely much. I begin the process of unfriending them. I’m halfway through the list when I hear Mum call me.

  I take a deep breath as I open her door, I never know what I’m going to find. She’s sitting in bed, wearing her pyjamas. Her hair is straggly and her eyes are red, her cheeks are streaked with tears. There are photos spread all over her bed. There is a box of tissues on the table by her bed. I sit down beside her, and wipe the tears from her cheeks and the snot from her nose. “What’s wrong, Mum?”

  She picks up one of the photos. “I miss Jowan,” she says, her bottom lip wobbles.

  I glance at the photos. Old pictures of Dad, Jo and me when we were younger, back when we were happy. The volume on her television is loud, they’re showing an old sitcom and the canned laughter seems inappropriate right now. I snatch up her remote and turn the volume down. I put my arm around her thin shoulders, she doesn’t eat enough. “I miss him too, Mum, but he wouldn’t want you to be unhappy like this.” I check my watch. “You can have some meds in an hour; they should make you feel better.”

  She rubs her eyes, and sniffs. “Will you call your father, and see if he’ll come over to see me for my birthday tomorrow?” She runs her fingers over a photo of Jo and Dad standing in front of Jo’s first car. I remember that car; two weeks after that picture was taken he reversed it into a concrete post. “I’ll give this photo to your father when he comes over,” she says.

  I sigh and give her a squeeze. “Don’t get your hopes up, Mum. You know how busy he is trying to build up his business.”

  Her bony fingers grip her yellow blanket. “He doesn’t have to stay for long. Ask him, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

  It’s started to get dark so I hit the light switch in the lounge and close the curtains. I pick up the cordless phone, and lean back against the wall as I dial Dad’s number. She answers. “Can I speak to my dad?” I ask.

  She makes a tutting noise. “He’s busy putting the kids to bed. What do you want?”

  “I need to talk to my dad, it’s about my mum.”

  She raises her voice, and I hold the phone away from my ear. “What does she want this time? She needs to get it through her head that they’re divorced.”

  I hear a scuffling noise, and then whispered tones. Finally, my dad speaks. “Why are you calling Trey? Is something wrong?”

  I notice some toast crumbs on the carpet next to the sofa, I should vacuum tonight. “Mum’s upset; she’s been looking at pictures of Jo.”

  “You should keep those pictures locked away.”

  I ignore his comment and pick at the hem of my t-shirt. “It’s her birthday tomorrow, she wants to see you.”

  “I’m busy tomorrow, I’m meeting a client.”

  I pick up the framed photo that is beside the phone. It’s a photo of all four of us, and I remember when it was taken. Mum wanted a professional photo, so we’d gone to a photo studio. We’d all sat on cushions on the floor. Dad has his arm around Mum’s shoulders. I’m sitting in front of him, and Jo is sitting next to Mum. Jo was pissed because he had a zit on his nose. “Maybe you could come o
ver in the evening; you don’t have to stop long.”

  I hear Dad huff. “It’s always something with her. I can’t be expected to drop everything to pander to her every five minutes.”

  My fingers grip the phone, and my voice rises. “Every five minutes, we haven’t seen you in a year.”

  “You should hire someone to take care of her.”

  I slam the photo frame down onto the table. “Genius idea Dad. What shall I pay them with? Food?”

  “You can always get a job.”

  I step away from the wall and clench my fist. “Newsflash, Dad. I can’t get a job because I can’t leave her on her own. In case you’ve forgotten, she’s suicidal.”

  “How could I forget that? I’m not giving you any more money. I already pay the mortgage, and I gave you the car.”

  Spit flies out of my mouth as I scream down the phone at him. “I’m not asking you for money. You know what, Dad, don’t bother.” I slam the phone down and glare at the framed photo. Those fucking smiling faces are mocking me. I pick it up and hurl it against the wall, the glass splinters.

  I stand outside Mum’s room, rest my forehead against her bedroom door, and close my eyes. She isn’t going to take it well. I open the door and she looks up at me expectantly. I sit on the bed beside her and put my arm around her shoulders. “Dad won’t be able to make it. He would if he could, but he’s got a meeting that he can’t get out of.”

  She knocks my hand off her shoulders and glares at me. “You didn’t call him, did you?”

  I gaze into her bloodshot eyes. “I did.” I reach for her hand and force a smile to my face. “We can celebrate your birthday together. I’ll bake you a cake and we can watch a movie, or we can go out somewhere if you’d like.”

  She snatches her hand from mine. “You didn’t want him to come here, did you?” She fists her hand in her hair and pulls at her roots.

  I prise her fingers from her hair. “Of course I did, Mum. I know seeing him will make you feel better, and I want that. I’m sure he’d come if he could.”

  She scowls at me. “You were nasty to him weren’t you? He knows you don’t love him, and that’s why he won’t come.”

  I stare at my wrist, and twist my friendship bracelets around and around. “I do love him, he just annoys me sometimes.”

  He face is red, and she’s clenching her fists. “Its your fault he doesn’t come here. You’re selfish. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

  I rub my hand over her back. “I know you’re upset, Mum, but it’ll be okay, we’ll-”

  “I don’t want you,” she screams. Her face is screwed up.

  “Mum, you don’t mean that. You’re upset, I’ll-”

  The force of her palm hitting my face knocks my head sideways. I put my hand up to my cheek, it feels hot and it stings. She’s glares at me. Her hands are fisted in her hair, and she’s shaking. “Get out of my room; I’m sick of the sight of you.”

  I open the refrigerator, crack open a can of beer, and down it in one. I crush the can, toss it in the trash, and head back to the lounge. I pick the picture frame up from the floor, take out the broken glass, and place the frame back on the table. Then I head to my room and slump down at my desk. I stare at my Facebook page. Those girls have got to go. I unfriend everyone until the only people that remain are Pia, Jake, Ash, Liam, and Coll. I gaze at Pia’s photo. It’s a recent one and her hair looks soft and shiny. I love her long hair and the way it smells of coconut. I imagine how it will feel to run my fingers through it as I pull her towards me for a kiss. My gaze falls to her lips, which are full and shiny in this picture. She must be wearing lip gloss. I wonder if her lip gloss is flavoured. Strawberry tastes good. I close my eyes and imagine my tongue running along her lips. I suck on her bottom lip, and taste the sticky strawberry. My hand slides down to my crotch, and I squeeze my dick as I imagine her tight little body pressed up against mine, my fingers kneading her round ass, her hot breath on my neck. Fuck. I open my eyes and type her a message. I don’t want a harem PH. I want you. Only you. Skype with me tonight? Please. Text me when you’re online. I head to the bathroom and dig in the pocket of my jeans for the key to the medicine cabinet. I unlock it, and take out Mum’s meds. Hopefully they will keep her calm for the rest of the night.

  I place my phone on my bedroom floor so I can get a signal, hopefully I’ll get a text from Pia. I vacuum the lounge, and now I’m feeling hungry. I’ll see if Mum wants to eat with me. I push open her door, the TV and her bedroom lamp are still on, but Mum’s asleep. Her blanket is tangled up by her feet. I don’t want her to get cold so I untangle it, and cover her. She stirs but doesn’t wake up. I turn off the lamp and her TV.

  I open the refrigerator. There are eggs, cheese and ham. I guess I could make an omelet, but I can’t be bothered to cook just for myself. Instead, I grab a can of tomato soup, tip it into a mug, and put it in the microwave. I grab a bread roll, and tear it into chunks. As I watch the microwave turntable spinning I think back to when I cooked a meal for Pia, and how she thought I would just nuke her something in the microwave. I smile and shake my head; I guess she wouldn’t appreciate tonight’s meal.

  I take my soup through to the lounge and put it on the coffee table. Then I head to my room to check my phone. No texts yet. I sit on the sofa, tossing the cushions onto the floor. Mum has a thing for cushions, I don’t see the point in them. I pick up the TV remote and flip through the channels. A period drama…boring. An old sitcom from the 70’s…nope. A war documentary…I’m not in the mood for that. I end up settling for a cookery show, those damn shows always make me hungry, but I don’t mind watching them while I eat.

  I put my mug in the dishwasher, the soup wasn’t filling, I’m still hungry. I search through the cupboards and find a pack of chocolate chip cookies. I use my teeth to tear the pack open and shove a cookie in my mouth. I turn the heating up a notch, take my t-shirt off, and change into my sweatpants. I’m going to be home all evening so I may as well be comfortable. I lie down on the sofa and continue watching the food channel. Bisley jumps onto my chest, and butts my chin with his head. I stroke him behind the ears, but I swat him off when the little fucker digs his claws into my bare chest. He looks up at me from the floor as if to say ‘why did you do that?’ I frown at him. “I’m not a fucking pin cushion.” He pads out to the hallway, and I can hear him meowing. I drag myself up from the sofa, and glance out of the window. It’s too dark to see anything, but rain is running down the window pane in rivulets. I scoop Bisley up, and hold him under my chin. He’s a vibrating ball of fur. “It’s raining,” I tell him. “You don’t like the rain, you’ll get wet.” I carry him back to the sofa, but he jumps off and returns to the door. I lie back down and start channel hopping, but Bisley’s constant meowing gets on my nerves. I walk to the door and stare at him. “Dumb cat.” I open the door, and shiver as the cold hits me. Raindrops are bouncing off the driveway, and Bisley is perched in the doorway, half out and half in. I press my foot up against his rear end. “Go on, out you go.” He turns and runs back inside. I head back to the lounge; the little fucker has stolen my spot on the sofa. He’s all curled up and comfy, and I ain’t got the heart to move him. I turn off the TV, and go to my room. I check my phone again, still no text. Maybe she didn’t get my message. I lie down on my stomach on the carpet, and fire off a quick text, asking her to text me when she wants to skype.

  I sit down on my bed and sigh. Maybe I should read a book. I search through the piles of books on my floor, and find a thriller. I turn it over to read the blurb, yeah, maybe I’ll give this a bash. I lie back on my bed and begin to read. After three pages I close the book, and give up. The words are passing through my head, I’m not taking any of it in. I go into Jo’s room, plug in my guitar and tune it up. I always feel calm in here; I guess it’s because of the space. The clutter in my room winds me up, I can’t relax. My fingers strum the strings and I play, ‘My Recovery.’ Feeling better I return to my own room and check my phone. I
grin as I read Pia’s message, ‘okay let’s skype.’

  “Have you got a webcam?” I ask. As great as it is to hear her voice, I want to see her. A minute later she appears on my screen. Her hair is loose and falling over her shoulders. She’s wearing a pink top with thin straps and her plump lips are glossy and shiny, I lick my own lips as I study hers. “You look amazing,” I tell her. I smile as her cheeks turn rosy, and she twirls her hair around her finger.

  “Am I going to get to see you?” she asks. I reluctantly turn on my webcam. I rub my hand across my jaw, I need a shave.

  She chews her thumbnail. “I see you’ve deleted the harem.”

  I nod. “I did. Your friend, Fay, sent me a friend request.”

  I watch as her eyes open wide, and her shiny lips fall open. “Oh my God, I don’t believe she did that.”

  I laugh. “Don’t worry, I didn’t accept. I don’t want you thinking I’m rebuilding my harem, Pee Aitch.”

  She tucks her hair behind her ear. “Go ahead and friend her, she’ll only moan if you don’t.”

  I lean on my desk and rest my chin on my hand. “I’m not going to get Alfonso friending me as well, am I?”

  She screws up her big brown eyes. “Who?”

  I shrug. “What’s his name, the prat that calls you sweetcheeks.”

  She smiles, and her eyes gleam. “You’re not jealous are you?”

  I lean back and raise an eyebrow. “No more than you were over my Facebook friends, Pee Aitch.”

  She shakes her head. “I’m not jealous.”

  “You keep telling yourself that, Precious. What have you been doing?”

  She shrugs, and I can’t help staring at her smooth, bare shoulders. I move closer to my computer screen.

  “I’ve been getting my stuff ready to take to uni,” she says.

  I frown. “When do you leave?”