by Lisa Swallow
“What about your girlfriend? You okay to leave her?” asks Nate. “Did she forgive you yet?”
“Will has a girl?” asks Jax. “You kept that quiet.”
“I don’t!”
“Tell him the story, little bro.”
“Fuck you,” I mutter.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, not another one!” complains Jem. “Jax. Give your mate some relationship advice.”
At his comment Nate barks out a laugh. “Man, that’s funny. How many days has it been since you argued with Tegan?”
“At least a week!” retorts Jax.
I switch off, let them finish their arguing and make a decision. I’m not in the bloody mood and did not want a reminder of Fleur when I’ve spent all day trying not to think about her. I attempted to call her yesterday and don’t blame Fleur for freezing me out.
Nate doesn’t understand, it’s one big fucking joke to him. I stepped back into nights out with him, but the hollow feeling inside grows and I can’t fill the gaps with other girls. No way. Since Fleur discovered my lies, I’ve spent more time than usual with a beer in my hand. Nate gradually backs off mentioning the situation and, after one too many ‘I told you so,’ I warned him to shut the hell up or I’d smack him. I meant it.
Numbing the situation doesn’t help. I fell for Fleur harder and faster than I imagined I could, and I scour my thoughts for a reason why this happened. Did I know the first time I saw her that something connected us besides my overwhelming desire to wind my fingers into Fleur’s long, blonde hair and get her naked? How else could I spend two years craving her attention when I saw her, even with everything else happening in my life?
Sure, when I was away from uni and indulging in my famous lifestyle I forgot Fleur, because I wasn’t around her. By the end of last year, I decided the reality of ‘an us’ was out of my grasp and threw myself into hedonism.
Then I came back and once we spoke, the pull to her took hold and locked me back into the fantasy.
This time, even though she’s out of my grasp again, I won’t forget Fleur or move on until I’m a hundred percent sure my chance is zero.
Chapter Twenty-Four
FLEUR
“No. No, birthday party.”
Anne pouts at me, holding her pen and pad in hand. “But I’m writing a list!”
This is all I bloody need. “Very nice. But no. Me, you, a couple of others, and a meal, yes. Party, no.” The bitten lip and avoiding of eyes worries me. “Anne?”
She taps the pen on the pad. “Um, I kind of already invited people.”
I freeze mid-way through taking my coat off. “What?”
“Sam and Nita said I should make it a surprise, but I know you better than that so I thought I’d check it was okay first.”
“And if it’s not okay?”
She fiddles with the corner of the notepad. “I’ll cancel the party.”
Following a day of classes and working on a tricky assignment, I’m not in the mood to be landed with my twenty-first birthday becoming the occasion I don’t want it to be. “Don’t. It’s really thoughtful of you, but why didn’t you ask?”
“I know. Sorry. We haven’t had a party this term. I thought it would be a good excuse.”
“I’m celebrating properly when I’m home around Christmas. I don’t want to do anything big.”
“Okay, well, I’ll just call it a party?” She doodles on the edge of the pad. “Although most people I told know.”
“How many?”
“Ten. Ish.”
“‘Ish’?”
“I’ll invite more. That’ll be better, right? You won’t be the centre of attention.”
“I doubt many people will come.”
Anne laughs. “It’s a party; of course, people will come.”
However much I pout, I know Anne is doing this to cheer me up. She’s seen the progress of my life the last few weeks, and I’ve sulked a lot the last few days. I’m fortunate to have a good friend who’s putting time into celebrating a milestone. I should get over myself and join in. About time, I stopped feeling sorry for myself and had fun.
I’ve no doubt Nate is. Will is.
****
Our mid-term papers are graded by our tutors and then moderated by other members of the department. This happens often when classes are taught by PhD students who are inexperienced tutors in order to average marks across the whole course.
When mine comes back moderated fifteen percent lower than the original grade, no surprises for guessing who re-graded mine. The second marker is anonymous, obviously, but this drags my average down for the term. Jake and Steph are surprised, they all received higher marks than I did and this never happens.
I’ve only seen Shaun when I’ve passed him in the department and I refuse to meet his eyes. Stupidly, I expected an apology. One thing’s certain; I don’t ask Shaun for help anymore.
Did Will complete his assignment? I saw him on TV last night, playing on a popular chat show. In the days following his betrayal, I turned over in my mind how much was my own naivety. Was I the only one who couldn’t tell the difference between the twins? How do people who know the twins well tell them apart? Oddly enough, the TV host asks the same question, even though something about one of them has clearly changed.
“Mannerisms. How they walk, hold themselves,” replies Ruby. “Took me a few months, but I soon learned. I can even recognise them from the back now.”
“It’s easier now, though. Isn’t it?” asks the host. “One of you changed your hair. Why’s that?”
Will’s hair is now shorter at the sides than his brother’s; fringe no longer spiked but brushed down at the front, touching his eyebrows.
Will shrugs instead of responding, and Nate grins. “Now I know I’m the good-looking one!”
A voice inside whispers Will did this because of me, and I push the notion away. But why would he suddenly decide to break the Ruby Riot image of the twins? Media fascination with their shared identity is part of the band image, and Will’s decision distances him.
Is there more to this story than I see? Perhaps it isn’t me? Could there be animosity between the brothers?
The twins return to campus the following week. I see them around occasionally but keep my distance. The mid-semester holidays approach and I’m looking forward to a break from the stress.
Not before this birthday party is out of the way.
****
I enjoy parties but not so much at my house, because there’s no opportunity to end the night and return home. This invariably leads to me drinking more than I’m aware. Or hiding in my bedroom. When I find out Anne has Facebook invited everybody we know, and included the option of adding guests, I’m cross with her. I agreed to a party, not a festival.
As expected, half the party guests are people I’ve never met from the Economics department. Anne decided my circle of friends wasn’t big enough to make this anymore than a soiree and I relented. Half the people don’t realise it’s a birthday, others come with birthday cards and bottles of alcohol as gifts, which, once lined up in the kitchen, soon disappear.
I never enjoyed parties at school, back when people separated into their cliques; but here everybody is friendly. A couple of semi-drunk guys attempt to give me bigger, more intimate birthday kisses than I’d like, but I’m flattered as well as mildly disgusted.
Anne has a new guy; and as Jake’s here too, there’s some tension. Until the alcohol flows more freely and he meets a new girl. Anne doesn’t care, apparently her new boyfriend, Kyle, is somebody she’s lusted after for some time and finally he noticed. Kyle’s sweet with her, attentive. Looks like at least one person I know has some success with men.
We have a small backyard and as the numbers swell, people spill out there too and our summer plastic furniture is used by guests. This time of year isn’t weather I’d sit outside in; but enough people don’t mind, and there’s breathing room in the house.
I sit on the bottom of the carpeted stairs, plastic cup
of beer in one hand and slice of pizza in another watching people come and go. Mostly come. I’m not worried about the party getting out of hand, but I don’t know the majority of people walking through the door. A lot are from the History and English departments, although most don’t even notice me.
The pizza sticks in my throat as the latest arrivals step inside.
Will and Nate.
They have a bloody nerve.
I shuffle sideways and duck behind a couple standing in front of me, heart thumping. Seriously? Do they know whose party this is or are they arrogant enough to think I wouldn’t care? I’ve already spotted Ethan who is also taking the piss by attending.
Does something in my demeanour suggest it’s okay to disrespect me?
I swallow down the beer, happy I’ve paced myself tonight; and I have a warm relaxed feeling rather than a situation where I study the carpet with my head on the floor. Who says I need to talk to either of the twins; there’re almost thirty people here.
I head towards the kitchen for a refill, see Will, and swivel 180 degrees. Anne sits on the nearby sofa with Kyle and I hold my plastic cup out.
“Can you fetch me a drink, please? I don’t want to go in the kitchen.”
“Why?” She looks over her shoulder. “Ah.”
“Did you invite them?” I ask.
“Seriously? No.”
“I guess they missed the reason for the party?” I point at the banner Anne attached to the wall above the lounge door. Happy Birthday. With cartoon pirate. Colourful balloons were also up there but have fallen down in the heat and were batted around the room until they burst.
“Ignore them. Anybody else around you want to talk to?” Anne makes inverted commas with her fingers around the word talk.
“There’s the guy from my lit class. Rowan. He’s cute. Not sure he likes me, or if I’m interested in another guy using me.”
“You never know until you try. He might be a great guy.” She stands. “I’ll grab you a drink. Want me to tell the twins to leave?”
“It’s fine. If you do, everyone will know why and probably embellish the story to include I’ve had sex with one – or both – of them.”
I glower in the direction of the kitchen as Anne heads off. Yes, I would like them to leave. The last party we were both at, Will started this whole situation off with his drunken antics.
Replenished drink in hand, I head back to the stairs. Rowan stands in the corner chatting to a girl; there goes that idea. The guests have stopped arriving now, a good thing because I expected Shaun, the last of my triumvirate of male arseholes, to join in the fun.
I stare at the mud on the carpet in front of me and debate whether to go to bed. The fuzziness grows and I’m too tired to deal with my ex or whatever Nate is. Will. When will I get into my head his real name? A pair of combat boots appears in front of me and I look up the black, denim-clad legs, past the muscled torso covered in a Foo Fighter’s t-shirt and into the eyes of one of the twins. His fringe reaches his eyebrows. Will.
He gives me a hesitant smile. “Happy birthday, Fleur.”
I clench my jaw and dart a look around. Nobody else is in the hallway, but I don’t want another scene.
“Thank you. My birthday was last week.”
“I know, but I wasn’t around last week.” He rummages in his leather jacket pocket and pulls out a rectangular box wrapped in patterned birthday paper. “I bought you a gift.”
My mouth drops open and I snap it shut. “What?”
“I bought you a gift. For your birthday. ‘Cause that’s what people do when they go to birthday parties.”
“But I didn’t invite you.”
Will picks at the rough edges of the paper. “I’ve carried it around campus in case I saw you. I kinda guessed you’d be here tonight.”
“Very astute, since it’s my party.”
He chews on his lip piercing and an involuntary memory of the touch of the metal on my mouth returns. “I’ve been away.”
“I saw. How’s the album going?”
His brow creases. “Uh. Good. Yeah. Thanks for asking.”
“Superstar yet?”
“Working on it.” Instead of a Will grin, he chews on a rough fingernail.
Is he nervous of me? He’s soberer than usual for a party.
“Anyway.” He thrusts the package at me. “Here.”
I pull away the paper and open the small box. Inside rests a rock. I’m not talking diamonds here; this is literally a three-inch piece of blue-painted rock. “Umm. Thanks?”
Will nods his head at the gift. “Read the card inside.”
Printed on the small card are a limited edition number and a small photograph of a graffitied wall. The Berlin Wall. Will bought me a piece of the Berlin Wall? I shake my head, unable to believe he thought of something this clever.
“Wow. Thanks, Will.”
He shoves his hands in his pocket. “No problem. I thought it suited you. Y’know, European History study group and shit.”
“And shit,” I say and smile at him.
Will’s stiff stance relaxes and he smiles cautiously back. “Can we talk?”
“I’d rather forget what you did. Let’s pretend it never happened.” I clutch the box. “I wish you hadn’t bought me a gift though.”
“It’s an apology too.”
“A sweetener?”
“Ice breaker. So you might talk to me and let me explain.” Will sits next to me and I shift as his leg touches mine.
“I was hurt and now I want to forget. Honestly.”
“But if you do forget, you’ll never talk to me again.”
“So? You’re leaving campus soon anyway. There’s no reason to stick around anymore.”
Will twists his body towards me, knees touching mine again. I chastise my body at the unwarranted flare of arousal from this simple act, at how the scent of his leather and him pulls me back to our kiss. “I’ll be on campus on and off. If things go really well, we might need to stop but not yet.”
“And not finish your degree.”
“Yeah.”
“So lying to me to join the group because you were desperate not to fail was a waste of time?”
“How do you know that’s why?”
“You spoke to Sam. He told me your motivation wasn’t to hurt me. Very clever, you knew he’d pass the information on.”
“Right. That’s half the story though.”
“Nate being the other half?” I ask with snark.
“Ha. No. What I said before things went to shit that evening you found out. They were true. And you need to know I never swapped back and forth with Nate. It was always me. I should never have pretended, but it just happened.”
“Just happened?”
“Yeah, you know my mouth isn’t always connected to my brain. Seemed like a good idea at the time. I was desperate to stay in the group.”
“Huh.” I place the lid back on the box.
“I didn’t think I’d fall for you,” he says in a low voice.
“Why did you keep lying though? When you knew we were growing closer?”
“Because I’m a dumb fucker. I was waiting for the right moment, until I realised there was never going to be one. I made the decision to tell you and hope you’d forgive me if I explained it wasn’t a joke. Then the screw up with Nate being there happened first.” He drags his hand through his hair, fixing me with concerned eyes.
“The things you said… The kiss. Why do that when I thought you were somebody else? You made me feel like a joke and that hurts!”
“I didn’t just say them. You felt them. When I kissed you.”
I want to retort no, but he’s right. The kiss was different to any I’ve experienced before, a pull to this guy I never expected, which hasn’t totally left. I shake sense in. “Doesn’t change the fact you lied.”
Will sighs and rubs his hands on his legs. “Can I say the things I was going to that night?”
“If you want. I doubt the words
will make any difference.”
“Yeah. Well. At least I’ll have said them. And every word I’m about to tell you is the truth. I have no reason to bullshit you.”
“And I know you’re Will now.” I gesture at his hair. “Image change?”
He pushes his fringe back. “I didn’t want anybody to confuse me with Nate again. Ever.”
The intense look he gives me confirms my earlier suspicion. Will did change how he looks because of me. “Three facts: one, I have wanted to get to know you for two years. Two, I regret lying to you more than you can imagine. Three, you are an incredible girl with a big heart, which I wanted a piece of.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Nice, you wanted a piece of me.”
“No, I wanted a piece of your heart. Yeah, the first reason I told you I was Nate was to join the group. But the fact is, I spent time with the girl I’ve obsessed about for a long time and she got under my skin.”
I set the box on the stair next to me. “How could I ever trust you?”
Will points at his head. “I changed because of you. Not just my hair. Even before, I realised how shit I was being with chicks and how I was doing it to keep up with my brother. When I saw you with Shaun that night, something hit home; disgust over how guys can treat girls like Shaun does.”
I shake my head. “Are you trying to tell me you’ve transformed into a sensitive, loving guy?”
He peers at me from under his fringe. “Why not find out?”
“The self-assured aspect hasn’t left then?”
“Give me a chance, Fleur. Something was building between us; now I have a different name, that’s all.”
I look past him, fighting the part of me who’s missed the guy’s humour and attentiveness. The girl who, even though she didn’t want to, adored his protective nature and the affection in his eyes. I believe he never deliberately played games; the only thing he hid was his name. But that’s a huge hurdle to me.
“I remember that night after the concert, when Nate was rude. Your reaction surprised me and for a split second, I thought you’d switched that evening. I thought maybe Nate was the Will I met at the first party.”
“No, that was all me. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I genuinely wanted to talk to you.”