Selling the Drama

by Theresa Smith

  Two boxes of condoms, flavoured with Bailey's Irish Cream.

  Now that was how you became somebody's favourite aunt. It was just too bad that Toby didn't seem the slightest bit interested in her. Maybe they had a long expiration date.

  Charlotte invited Toby to a party toward the end of the holidays and he happily accepted, eager to meet people in advance of starting at school. He was keen to get into some sports here, make some friends and gather some interests that might divert his attention away from Charlotte. They existed in a bubble together at the moment, and Toby was becoming more and more aware of how limiting this was.

  They walked to the party together, Charlotte giving him a bit of run down along the way on the various people he was about to meet. He doubted he would remember a thing she was saying, much less have the ability to put her tales to the faces of the names she was dropping. She was giving him way too much credit in the memory department, but he let her talk uninterrupted because he liked the sound of her voice and the many expressions that lit up her face as she spoke.

  Once at the party, Toby found himself falling into company fairly rapidly. He had always had an easy ability to make friends, his interest in sport an icebreaker that never failed to deliver for him. Charlotte wandered off to her own crowd, which in all truth suited Toby well. He did not necessarily want to become a part of her crowd. Living with her was enough, attending classes with her more so; hanging about socially would eventually prove too much.

  "So, you live with Charlotte?"

  He looked over at the guy who had just asked him the question; Jake, that was his name, Toby thought, nodding to him. "Yeah. Her mum is my godmother."

  "Dude, what happened to your parents?" He did not sound as though he was digging for gossip, merely curious.

  Toby was prepared for this question. If he answered it right, with just the perfect amount of sobriety, he wouldn't have to answer it again. "They died in a car accident. It was a real mess. I don't like to talk about it. It still…" he paused for effect, swallowing deeply and blinking a few times with a sincerity he did not feel.

  Jake put up his hand and rested it on Toby's shoulder, giving him a comforting pat. "Geez man, say no more. That's horrible. Lucky you had Charlotte's family to fall back on then. So, you ever played touch football? That's our summer football up here. We play rugby league in the winter. None of that aerial ping pong they pass off as football down south." Jake laughed, moving along with the conversation, seamlessly leaving the awkward behind, much to Toby's relief.

  Toby shook his head at Jake's question about touch football. "No, but I'd be keen to try." They talked about the game for some time, Jake attempting to explain the rules. It sounded like a game Toby would pick up without any trouble. They were gradually joined by more guys Jake knew, and before too long, Toby felt completely at ease and already a part of the group.

  "Check it out." One of the guys nodded his head to something over Toby's shoulder and a few of them snickered knowingly. "She's at it again." Toby cast a look over his shoulder but saw nothing they might be referring to. Jake leaned forward to fill him in.

  "How well do you know Charlotte?"

  Toby shrugged. "I've only known her for about a month."

  "Has she tried to suck you off yet?"

  Toby felt himself grow cold, and then hot immediately after, but he refused to let his demeanour reflect his unease at this turn in the conversation. He simply laughed and shook his head, as though Jake's question was one of the most typical he had ever been asked. "No. Get out. As if."

  Another of the guys laughed along with him. "Man, that chick is the hottest piece of arse around. She gave me the worst case of blue balls last term in science and then made me wait two weeks before I could get it into her. But it was worth it, shit, you have no idea, absolutely worth it."

  Jake shook his head in wonder. "That mouth of hers, it's all you can do not to pass out."

  The comments flared then, the talk deteriorating as they each compared the many skills and charms that Charlotte had to offer. And on and on it went, Toby standing amongst them, a look of amusement on his face he did not feel, trying not to judge these guys, these new friends of his, too harshly for their conversation. It was what guys did, they talked trash and compared notes, there was no harm in it and it was not unique to this group. They were not running Charlotte down in the process either, in fact, they seemed all quite enamoured of her talents, her beauty, her sense of humour, and her out of this world cock sucking mouth. Toby excused himself and headed out of the yard, intent on leaving the party. He wanted to be friends with these guys, but there was no way he could stand and listen to another minute of them talking about Charlotte like that.

  He meandered about the strip for a while, walking along aimlessly before heading into a fish and chip shop to get himself a serve of hot chips. The server looked at him strangely when he asked for vinegar. She indicated a bottle of tomato sauce on the counter and then turned her back to him. There were times when he felt so far from home. It would grab him at the oddest moments, like right now, in a greasy fish and chip shop. The melancholy would descend and he would feel it, like a weight settling over him, seeping into his pores, choking him. Overwhelming him. He took his chips, without sauce, and ate them down on the beach, sitting in the sand watching the moon rise in the night sky, his dark mood slowly lifting. Should he be watching out for crocodiles? Did they come up onto the beach? Lurk in the bushes and dart out to grab you? He had no idea, had only seen the signs warning about swimming. Realistically though, if they were in the water, then they could be just as likely on the sand. Looking around, he took note of the fact that there were actually not too many people down where he was and decided to move himself up to the park area, just to be on the safe side. Imagine surviving his father for sixteen years only to be eaten by a crocodile a month later.

  Eventually he made his way back past the party, checking in and spending another hour with the same group of guys, deciding that as long as they weren't talking about Charlotte, then they were an alright group to hang with. He intercepted her at one point as she was making her way up to the house, and she greeted him with a wide smile.

  "I was just looking for you." She brushed her hair off of her face as she looked at him.

  Toby couldn't help but notice how messy it looked in comparison to when they had arrived at the party earlier in the evening. She also had a small twig caught up in it. He resisted the urge to pluck it out of her hair and decided he wouldn't mention it. "Why?"

  "I want to go home. I was seeing if you were ready? Mum would freak if I walked home alone." She fiddled with her hair, finding the twig and discarding it with a blush that did nothing to make her appear less enticing. Anyone running into Charlotte on a dark path probably had more to fear than her.

  He nodded at her, dropping his gaze. "Yeah, okay. Come on, let's go."

  They set off in silence, Toby unsure about his ability to speak to her normally in light of all he had learned about her tonight. Charlotte was quiet, walking slowly, her gaze fixed to the path.

  "Did you have a good time?" Lengthy silences seemed to bother her, she was always the first to break in with idle chatter.

  "It was alright. I met some guys who were okay. I'm going to join up for touch football." He deliberately kept his response brief, wishing they were already home so that he could just leave her and wallow in his own disappointment.

  She nodded, casting him a sideways glance. "That's good. You'll have friends when you start next week then."

  "Yeah, I will." He left it at that. Charlotte touched his hand lightly, sliding her fingers over his palm as though to hold his hand as they walked along. The feeling of it was so beautiful it brought tears to his eyes and he jerked away from her touch, stung by her presumptuousness. Her hand in his, it was all he wanted, yet it was spoiled now. The dream, the secret hope, all of it. She had been with someone else tonight, of that much he was sure. The jealousy within him was not som
ething he felt able to contemplate at present, but it motivated him towards anger. He whirled on her, pointing a finger in her direction. "You're a slut."

  She stopped in the middle of the path, her face falling, her shoulders slumping. She visibly shrank before him, and shaking her head, she merely whispered, "No, I'm not," but with little conviction.

  Toby stared at her, willing her to deny it further, hoping for a spark of anger that might prove all he had heard as wrong, yet she did nothing more than stand before him with a stricken expression. "Tonight I learned that you've had sex with four of the guys I'm about to be friends with, sucked all of them dry, and let all of them stick their fingers into you on multiple occasions. You are a full on slut."

  She advanced on him then, reaching out to grab a hold of his sleeve, but he ducked away from her, not wanting her to touch him at all. "That doesn't make me a slut!" she cried out to him. "Just because I like having sex does not make me a slut!" Her face still wore that stricken expression though, and Toby wondered who she was trying to convince.

  "Having sex with so many different guys, does! They talk about you, compare experiences! If you like having sex so much get a boyfriend and stick to one person!" His anger was mounting. She had been so perfect. This was not what she was supposed to be like.

  "That's boring!" she burst out. "Did you see who was there tonight? Why would I ever want to have sex with any of them more than once? They're ridiculous! They know nothing, and it's all over before it's even started." She crossed her arms and shook her head, as if that explanation was perfectly reasonable and the problem lay with him for not accepting it.

  "Stop it. I don't want to hear it." Toby turned to walk away, disgusted with the conversation and disgusted with himself, because he still wanted her, despite all he had heard and all she had just said. She was tainted, but he still wanted her, so badly it actually frightened him and confused the hell out of him as well.

  She grabbed the back of his shirt then, pulling on it but he kept on walking, so she hurried along after him, speaking to his back, clinging to him weakly. "Then you become my boyfriend. Then I'll only ever have sex with you and I won't have to be a slut."

  He stopped, turning to face her. It would be easy, so easy to grab her and kiss her. Take her home, sneak into her room and have her. Do it every night; that and more. Let her teach him all those things from those books she like to read. He wanted her to, so badly. She was so beautiful and so sensual, and he had already tasted her, felt her skin, and he knew what those hands of hers could do, what that body of hers looked like under her clothes. He knew the sound of her laugh now, and the way her face lit up when she talked about the things that interested her. But it was just sex to her; he would be nothing more than a thrill to have on hand and he had far too much at stake to lose it all for something as base as that. As much as he wanted her, he wanted a life more. This life, that he had, right now. It was better if she hated him and thought he was sickened by what she was doing. It would all be easier that way. The solution stretched out in front of him and he knew it was the very best thing to do. Reaching out, he touched her cheek lightly, despising himself as she sunk into his hand, misinterpreting his gesture.

  "Why would I want to stick my dick into the same place everyone else has? Who knows what the fuck I'll catch?"

  Charlotte jerked away from him, her expression cutting him deep. He watched as tears filled her eyes and she stepped forward, shoving him roughly in the middle of his chest. "You're an arsehole! I thought you were different but you're just the same! You're just the same as all of them!" She was crying now as she gave him one last shove before turning away and stomping off up the path.

  Toby watched her go, every part of him filling with regret and hurt, an emptiness leaching into him. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before; entirely foreign, and he wished for the moment not long past, so he could take it all back and just kiss her and tell her that none of it mattered to him. But you can't have it all. At best you only get half measures, never everything all at once.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Iris insisted on a celebration for Toby's seventeenth birthday, and while he got her to move on from the idea of a party, she would not budge on the cake. And what a cake it was, a triple layered chocolate creation that contained cream, raspberries, and a very heavy dose of some sort of liqueur. They had bought him a stereo for a present. He was overcome by the extravagance, but their joy at giving it to him prevented him from refusing it or protesting that it was too much. That Iris and Royce had absorbed him into their family so completely never ceased to amaze him. He didn't fully understand why they treated him so well, almost as if he was their own son, but he never took it for granted. They were good people and he was so lucky his mother had known Iris all those years ago. Who knew what his life might be like right now if she hadn't?

  Charlotte helped him carry the stereo and the speakers up to his room, waiting patiently in the doorway while he cleared a space on top of the drawers.

  "So, you like it?" she asked, somewhat timidly.

  He looked at her over his shoulder. "What do you reckon?" She grinned and he felt that tug inside that he always felt whenever he saw her smile.

  "I haven't given you my present yet." Her smile had turned coy, her timidity from moments ago now gone.

  "You got me a present as well?" He was nervous at the thought of a present from Charlotte. You never knew what she might come up with. The ice between them, put in place by Toby's cutting rejection, had thawed somewhat over the last few months, but they were far from easy with each other. A certain element of tension was ever present between them, so they moved in different circles at school, and limited their interactions at home to talking from doorways and over balconies. Toby missed the easy banter they had begun to share. Sometimes, he would lie in bed at night, listening to her music through her wall, picture her lying on her bed reading some book, and he would literally have to hang onto the side of his bed to prevent himself from getting up and launching himself into her room just so he could lie beside her and breathe her in. Pathetic didn't even begin to cover how much he lusted after her, after every part of her, even just the sound of her voice or the glance of her eyes.

  "I have a couple of things for you actually. Come into my room for a sec." She spun on her heel and ducked next door.

  Toby straightened and followed her, not needing to be asked twice. The room was very Charlotte in its decor, an eclectic blend of scattered tastes. She had so many different pillows on her bed in all sorts of colours and fabrics that they took up half of the available space. She had shelves upon shelves of books and music cassettes piled all over her dresser. Posters covered her walls: music artists, enlarged book covers, artistic and abstract mythical scenes that were both weird and wonderful to take in. He had a sense, as he looked around her personal space, that she was so much more than what most people thought. So much more than what he had pegged her as. All these pieces of her scattered around the room reflected something important and when you took it all in as a complete picture, it was one so magnificent, he wanted nothing more than to sit back and gaze at it for an unending amount of time.

  "Okay, so your first present is on my wall. Ta da!" With a flourish, she pointed to a poster she had made and pinned above her desk. Toby moved closer so he could get a better look at it. He stared at it for a while, not entirely sure what it was he was supposed to be seeing. He preferred the poster above her bed. While clearly it was a copy of a painting and thereby qualified as 'art', the couple openly having sex within the folds of the fabric draped revealingly over their bodies was a sight to behold. Did Iris or Royce never come in here? Toby dragged his gaze away from that poster in order to concentrate on the one Charlotte had intended for him. After a few moments though, he gave up and turned back to her with a shrug, puzzled.

  "I don't get it. Sorry." He sent her a sheepish grin.

  She smiled back, bouncing over to stand beside him. "That's okay. I didn't real
ly think you would get it. It's all in code so Mum can't read it."

  So Iris did visit Charlotte's room from time to time. Toby supposed she must appreciate Charlotte's taste in wall decor from an artistic point of view, for if she had found it offensive, it probably wouldn't be there. He flicked his eyes to the provocative image once more, before settling his gaze back onto Charlotte herself. "So, how am I supposed to know what it says then?" He looked down at her as her arm brushed his. He teetered a little in her direction, wanting his body, any part of his body at all, to be touching hers, no matter how light and insignificant. His finger touched the back of her hand and his heart jumped; he wanted to thread his fingers into hers and bury his nose into her hair, but Charlotte was talking to him, oblivious to his hand brushing hers and his near on mental breakdown at being so close to her for the first time in months.

  "I will explain it to you. Basically, it's charting my celibacy. My journey to growing back my virginity. Now, I don't know if you've noticed, being as wrapped up in Miss Prim as you have been these last few months, but I have been solidly single. And this is my journey." Charlotte gestured with a flourish once again to the chart and its indecipherable symbols.

  There was so much within her statement to respond to that Toby had no idea where to start. So he went with what had made the most impact on him. "You've been solidly single?"

  Charlotte nodded. "Right down the wire. Ever since that night you called me out on it."

  That night he'd called her a slut. That night he ruined all chance of even being able to speak to her normally, much less have anything more. Toby stared at her. "That was last year; ages ago. You've done nothing since then?"