Selling the Drama

by Theresa Smith

  Charlotte swallowed deeply, her gaze locking onto his. She could pretend, easy, knowing she got to be with him in private, pretending in public would be no big deal. She sat very still, his arm still holding her elbow, assessing him, thinking about what to say. She had not expected this from him. Perhaps, he had not been running away from her last night, after all. Perhaps, he had been just finding his way back. "When you say that you won't do this with me unless I agree to keep it a secret, what is it you're actually wanting to keep secret?"

  Toby moved his hand higher up along Charlotte's arm, tracing his fingers along the delicate skin of her inner arm. "Everything we do together."

  "What are we going to be doing together?"

  He exhaled sharply, pulling his hand away and sitting back in the lounger. "I don't know what you want from me, Charlotte." He seemed nervous all of a sudden.

  "I want you to tell me what we will be doing together."

  "What we did last night. What we did in the pool last year when I first got here." His voice was tinged with frustration.

  Charlotte pressed on, pushing him further, confident in doing so now that she knew she had him. "Is that all you want to do?" She wanted him to say it, the 'girlfriend' word, but it would seem for now that he was not intending on making that sort of commitment to their 'thing'. Not even in secret, just with her.

  "No. Obviously. Will you stop asking me all of these questions?"

  Charlotte sat up and turned to face him, changing tactics, stretching her legs out to his chair and placing her feet up onto the side. "Toby, I want you to be able to tell me what you want me to do to you. So that I know. Because I'll happily tell you what I want you to do to me, but you need to be able to do the same back. I want you to be able to talk freely with me. Because that makes me want you even more."

  Toby rested his hand onto the tops of her feet. "Charlotte, you can do whatever the fuck you like with me. You want me to tell you what I want. I want you. I want you all over me and I want to be all over you and I want it to happen right now because ever since last night I haven't been able to get what we did out of my head but you've wasted so much time asking me questions and trying to get me to talk that you just missed our first opportunity to actually have sex because in five minutes your mother will be home. Less talk, that's what I want." He stood up and winked. "I'm going to get changed. I've got training. I'll see you later when I'm hot and sweaty."

  Charlotte smiled as she watched him go. He would see her later. He could count on it.

  The ink on the letter was smudged in places, as though water had been dripped over it. It was only as Charlotte continued to read, did she realise the marks had most likely been made from tears, just like the ones that were dripping off of her own face right now. Poor Jenna. Her poor, sweet, Jenna.

  Dear Charlotte,

  I have to leave Ireland. As soon as possible. I can't stay here anymore. Dermott thinks that everything is okay, that you can just pop over to England and abort your baby one day and then go back to work the next. He pretends it didn't even happen. And I can't do that because it's all I think about, day and night, and I know now, now that it's way too late, that I should not have done it. I should have thought more and waited. I should have just come straight home.

  I hate it here now. I hate him for not understanding, and I hate myself for being so weak and stupid. I can never forgive myself for this. I'm sorry to do this to you, but can you please ask your mum for enough money for a ticket home? I have nothing left to get me back and I can't put myself out there to her, I just haven't got it in me. You'll explain it all to her in a way that will make her help me. If I ask, she'll punish me for being so reckless and stupid and I can't deal with that right now.

  I just want to come home. Charlotte, don't ever make this mistake I have. I can't even begin to tell you how bad I feel. It was the worst thing I could have done, and I did it to keep Dermott, but here I am after, and I don't even want him anymore. How ridiculous is that? So I've lost everything. For nothing.

  Instead of sending me money, can you just buy the ticket, the first available one, and then ring me with the time and date? Please? It will be much quicker that way.

  I love you,

  Jenna xoxox.

  Charlotte thought for a few moments, calculating the total of her bank balance combined with what she had stuffed under her mattress. It would depend on how much a ticket from Dublin to Brisbane cost at such short notice, but there was a good chance that she might be able to swing it without involving her mother at all. To save Jenna that humiliation, it would be worth being totally poor for a while.

  She waited until the house was quiet, until the creaking above her had ceased and she could detect no further movement. Easing out of her bed, she slipped out of her room and into his, locking the door before crossing to his bed. He was lying on his back, his hands behind his head, waiting for her.

  "I saw your note."

  She said nothing, hoping he couldn't see her blush in the darkness.

  "It's very deep."

  "I'm a very deep person," she replied, only partly in jest.

  He reached out and took hold of her hand. "I know." Tugging lightly, he pulled her down to lie beside him. She curled up in the way she had wanted to that night she'd crept into his room so long ago.

  When he next spoke, Toby's voice held a confessional tone. "I haven't done anything more than what I've done with you. Anything I've done with anyone else has been much less."

  Charlotte stilled. She had not thought of him as being a virgin. Both times they had been together he had seemed to know exactly what to do with her. "Really? You seem pretty confident with your hands for a novice."

  "It's not rocket science. Instinct is a powerful thing. And maybe you're not the only one who reads those books." His hand found its way into her hair and he sifted through it, letting the strands fall from his fingers before gathering it back up to repeat the entire process. "You have beautiful hair."

  "You've read one of my books?"

  "Not just one. Bits of a few. I've seen you reading them, when you don't know anyone's around. I've seen what you do to yourself, as you read them. You think I wasn't going to try and find out what they had in them? I've been reading them for ages." His hand continued to play with her hair.

  Charlotte laughed lightly. "Sneaky. I never would have guessed."

  "I'm nothing if not resourceful. There's some freaky shit in some of those books."

  "I know. Some of it's kind of…uncomfortable to read. The stuff about pain."

  "Yeah. That didn't do much for me. And I'm not that big on the homo shit either. Well, the women together worked for me, but not the blokes."

  Charlotte laughed quietly at that and he joined in. They lay there together, listening to each other's breaths. Charlotte could not think of any other time when she had felt this content. "Can I sleep with you? All night?" The minute the words left her mouth, she wished fervently that she could take them back. The neediness of the question appalled her.

  But his response was easy. "As long as you wake up before your dad."

  "I will." Charlotte exhaled deeply and found Toby's free hand with her own, threading their fingers together. "Toby, do you miss your parents?" He was quiet for a long time, so long she suspected he wasn't going to answer and she began to regret even asking him the question in the first place. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

  "No, it's okay. I don't mind you asking." He paused, as though searching for the right words. "I don't miss them. There isn't much to miss."

  She turned slightly, stretching out her body against his. "Really?" She found this so hard to believe. Her parents, particularly her father, were the foundation of her existence. She couldn't imagine life without either of them, much less both of them.

  "Really. Charlotte, my father used to beat my mother. Badly. And I'm not talking about the occasional smack. He was a doctor. He knew what a body could take and he'd beat her down until she couldn't t
ake anymore. Then he'd fix her up, make her feel grateful for the attention, buy her something pretty and expensive, and tell her how much he loved her and how he couldn't possibly ever live without her. She didn't have much left in her for me. I tried to make her leave him but she wouldn't. There's not much more to it than that. I don't like to talk about it and I don't want other people to know. I'm a different person here. My parents, they don't exist here. And that's the way I want it to stay." He had stopped playing with her hair and had instead settled his hand into the curve of her back, wedging his fingertips into the waist band of her pyjama shorts.

  "I would never tell anyone."

  "I know that. I never thought you would. But I don't want to talk about it again."

  "Okay." She gave his hand a squeeze and was relieved when he returned the gesture, secretly worried she had overstepped the mark with him.

  "This is the best my life has ever been. I have a real chance at a future that is not all shades of fucked up. I never thought I'd have that."

  She understood him so much more now. His resistance to her initially, his continued determination to not do anything that would risk getting himself in trouble with her parents. She felt slightly ashamed of her efforts at trying to force him, for being so narrow sighted and vain. He had not been rejecting her. He had been rejecting risk. Two entirely different constructs.

  "Why change your mind then, about us?"

  Toby sighed, reaching his hand down further into her shorts so he could squeeze her backside. "I'm sick of jerking myself off." Then he laughed and Charlotte could not help but laugh along with him. "Go to sleep. It's late and I'm really comfortable right now, lying here with you just like this."

  "Be careful, Toby, I might get the wrong idea and think you like me for more than just sex." Despite her teasing, hope filled her. This was good, the two of them connecting like this, as if they were, dare she even think it, beginning a relationship.

  "You'd be right, I do like you for more than just sex." He stretched and rolled toward her, hooking his leg over her entire body and crushing her against him. "You're incredibly soft and warm, just like a pillow that moulds itself to me." She gave him a shove but it was a useless effort, crushed against him as firmly as she was. He kissed her on the forehead. "Go to sleep. And wake me up with a blow job."

  She shoved at him again. "Did you just say that out loud?" Disbelief, combined with humour, warred inside of her. She pinched him on the inside of his arm. "Unbelievable!"

  He laughed at her obvious outrage. "You said you wanted me to tell you what I want from you! And I am seriously curious about that piercing on your tongue."

  "I take it back."

  "Yeah, it's out there now. Too late." He pressed his lips against her forehead again before moving down to her mouth, kissing her so slowly and thoroughly, she thought she might just pass out from the thrill of it. It was so completely different to any other kiss he had given her, yet at the same time, he felt so familiar it wrought a feeling deep inside of her that almost made her want to weep.

  Charlotte pressed her face against his chest, breathless in its wake. "I meant what I wrote in the note." Her whisper was so light she couldn't be sure he would even hear her; she was not entirely sure that she even wanted him to.

  After a pause that seemed to stretch out far too long, he whispered back to her, "I feel the same way."

  CHAPTER THREE

  Charlotte was sitting with a group of her friends in the stands overlooking the school oval. They were there to lend their support for the home game of an interschool rugby league match, at least, that was the official story. In reality, they were perving on the players and scouting for fresh faces to try their moves on. This used to be a particularly enjoyable past time for Charlotte, football teams from other schools never failing to deliver on at least a few promising prospects. She feigned interest today in the conversation though, keeping her gaze fixed on Toby, who had taken to rugby league as though it were his true calling. As Charlotte watched him on the field, her desire to completely have him increased exponentially. She had been content these last few weeks with just fooling around after dark. Toby was quite skilled at fooling around and the thought of delaying the inevitable had become deeply thrilling.

  For some unknown reason, Charlotte had always found hulking, sweaty footballers the pinnacle of desirable males and right now, one in particular was giving her reason to squirm in her seat. Over the course of the afternoon, he had taken to glancing in her direction during idle moments, appearing as casual as possible, giving Charlotte a cautious grin and just now, being a little bolder with a wink as he caught her eye.

  A sharp elbow jabbed her in the side. "Did you just see that?" Ellie, her best friend, screeched in her ear.

  Charlotte dragged her eyes from Toby, turning to Ellie in surprise. "What? See what?" She had no idea what Ellie was on about, having totally tuned her out about ten minutes previous.

  Ellie leaned closer, a pleased expression on her face. "I think Toby likes me!" She clapped her hands with excitement. "He keeps looking up in this direction and he just winked at me! He is so hot, I am totally going for him tonight."

  Charlotte stared at Ellie with a growing sense of horror. No! No, no, no! This was bad. Very bad. She felt her palms grow moist as her heart rate increased, the makings of an angry flush creeping up her throat. She did not want to slap her best friend down, but if Ellie so much as attempted to lay a single fingertip on Toby, then she would know about it. This was the problem with having a secret relationship! Being forced to listen to your best friend pant over your boyfriend.

  "You live with him. Do you think he likes me? Has he asked about me?" Ellie leaned forward eagerly, her eyes now following Toby all over the field.

  Charlotte wanted to scream. Instead, she smiled, giving Ellie a look that belied her inner rage. Putting her hand on Ellie's arm, she put her head close to her friend's ear. "Oh, Ellie, I don't how to say this without disappointing you, so I'll just blurt it out. I'd hate for you to make a fool out of yourself. Best friends need to stick together, right?"

  Ellie looked at Charlotte warily, nodding slowly. "Yeah, of course we do. What's wrong?"

  "Toby wasn't winking and smiling at you, Ellie." She gestured with her head to the row in front, where some guys supporting the other team were seated. "He's, well, you know, a homo." She paused for effect, delighting in the way Ellie's face registered her obvious shock. "I know, a sad day for all women, but there you have it." She patted Ellie on the knee, trying to look as sympathetic as she could. "Too bad, but hey, have you seen number seven on the other side? He's a sexy beast. He was totally checking you out just before." Charlotte pretended to fan herself. "Hot."

  Ellie searched out number seven. "Ooh, you're right, he is hot."

  Satisfied at having prevented a calamity, she sought out Toby on the field, giving him a wink and a smile as she caught his eye.

  "You told her what?!" Toby looked at Charlotte, unable to believe what he'd just heard come out of her mouth. "You can't say shit like that! What is wrong with you?"

  Charlotte pouted, her hands on her hips. "Ellie was going to come on to you. She was going to try and sink her claws into what's mine and there was no way I was about to let that happen."

  Her possessiveness was thrilling, yet the excitement of it was considerably dampened by the fact she had told her best friend he was a fag. She had no idea, standing there in front of him, what damage she had possibly done to his reputation. People believed this sort of shit, hung onto it, recycled it and built it up into something they could later smash you to pieces with. He knew this; he had seen it, had participated in doing it to other people. He pointed at her, angry at her impulsiveness, at her uncontained jealousy. "You need to fix this before she spreads it around. I'm not kidding, fix it!" He picked up his kit bag and headed to his room, intent on having a shower. He was hot, filthy, covered in sweat, and now completely pissed off.

  He threw his bag on the floor
and pulled his jersey up over his head. Charlotte appeared in the doorway, a contrite expression upon her face.

  "I'm sorry. For upsetting you. I couldn't help it. It was either tell her that or throw her down the stands. I went with the wrong option, I'm only human." She gave him a shrug and then entered the room, crossing to stand before him. She lifted her hand and placed her fingertip onto his stomach, running her fingernail along the waistband of his shorts.

  "Yeah, well, you still need to fix it." He trembled as she hooked her finger into his shorts, taking a step closer to him.

  "I will. I'll ring her soon. She won't be home yet, I diverted her attentions so I expect she'll be quite busy about now. I'll make something up, don't worry. But you have to try and understand where I was coming from. It's hard just sitting and listening to your friend talk about how much she wants to get your boyfriend's dick inside of her." She leaned forward, pressing her lips to the centre of his chest, kissing him lightly before drawing back to inhale his skin.

  Putting his hands onto her hips, he squeezed them gently. "She wanted my dick in her? And you intercepted that?"

  Charlotte hit him then, in the middle of the chest, right where her lips had caressed him only moments ago. "Say that again, arsehole!"

  He laughed, reaching out for her once more, wedging his hands into the back pockets of her jeans, pulling her up against him. "The most ridiculous thing about this, is that you've completely overlooked the fact that I wouldn't have said yes to her. I would have blown her off, and that would have been the end of it. Give me some credit. Why would I want her, when I can have you?"

  Charlotte trailed her tongue along his jaw. "If I hadn't said something then, I would've had to sit and listen to her go on and on about how hot you are, how big she thinks your dick is, what she was going to let you do to her, and so on, and so on. I have had these conversations before, they never change. I can't listen to that about you. I just can't."