“Eh? What are you talking about? Fuck, my head fucking hurts,” he moans.
“You’re lucky that’s not the only thing that hurts. You made a complete spectacle of yourself last night in the bar,” I throw at him.
“What are you talking about?” he tries to open his eyes to look at me but one seems to be bruised and is only opening half way.
“OK, so you don’t remember?” I fire straight back at him.
I don’t wait for him to reply, I head into the kitchen to look for frozen peas to put on his eye to try and reduce the swelling, it’s maybe a bit late for that now though. I open the freezer to see it is empty, and actually, I already know that we don’t have any frozen items so I don’t know why I bothered looking. There is barely anything left in the fridge so I grab an apple that was in the fridge rather than the fruit bowl and press it to his eye.
He flinches in shock and looks at the apple like it’s poisonous, “Wh… what are you doing?”
“You got hit in the face last night after you kissed me. Yeah, you kissed me, Joel, right in front of Marty after I’d been out on a date with him all day. I couldn’t get you off of me, so he floored you in the bar. Any recollections yet?”
His chin hits his chest, “Oh…”
“Yeah,” I exhale and heavily sit back down on the armchair. “Sorry, there’s no frozen peas, or ice, but the apple is at least cold. Put it on your eye for a few minutes, it’ll maybe help a little bit with the swelling.”
He does as he is told and flinches again but pulls himself up to a sitting position. His blanket falls off and he is shirtless but still has his jeans on from last night. His shirt was soaked through and I managed to strip that off of him, but he was too heavy to try and manhandle to get his jeans off. He leans forward to get his coffee and sips it slowly.
“I… I’m sorry,” he says quietly as he takes another sip.
“Bit late for that now, Joel,” I watch him squirm and his left peck flinches, but I can’t feel bad for him, he was bang out of order and I’m not sure where we go from here.
He leans his head right back on the sofa, “Fuck. My. Life.”
I frown and carry on watching him for a moment, “What’s wrong with your life, Joel?”
He takes a moment and slowly takes a deep breath, “You have no idea. Absolutely, no freaking idea. Just forget it.”
“Forget it? I don’t think so, Joel,” he just hit a very raw nerve. “I need some sort of explanation from you. I think you owe me that more than anything. You’ve been acting like a total weirdo from the get-go of this trip. I don’t know if the others have noticed, they’re so caught up in themselves, but I’ve been tiptoeing around your strange mood for the last few days, and frankly, I don’t know why. I’m sick of it. I have my own bloody problems right now without you adding to them and making me feel like even more shit, than I already do.”
I take a breath and glance back over at Joel to find him smirking like an adolescent.
“Are you actually smirking at me?” I suddenly rage at him and stand up.
“Sorry,” he wipes it off his face, but replaces it with a small grin. “Sit down, Rach. Please. I’ve got the fucking hangover sent from Satan himself, my eye has it’s own pulse and I can’t help but wondering whether you think I’m a good kisser?”
I look at him and feel like punching his other eye, “Are you actually serious? Are you honestly asking me that?”
He shrugs and I uncharacteristically kick his foot. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t tell my brain to move my foot. It just did, all by itself.
“OUCH! What the…?” He sloshes some of his hot coffee on himself and quickly puts the cup down on the table again so he can grab his foot and wipe the coffee off of his torso.
“Sorry, but I’m not sorry. You need to stop being a fucking jackass, Joel. You fucked with me last night, and I’m not having it! OK? Do you hear me? I put up with shit from everyone, I let my fucking imbecile of a boyfriend – if you can even call him that – walk all over me, I’m sick of it. Everyone needs to stop treating me like I’m a fucking idiot. I’ve had enough.”
With that, I pick up a cushion and throw it at the wall, then I run blindly to my bedroom and slam the door shut. I feel the adrenaline pulsing through my veins and I feel the hot tears as they traitorously escape from my stinging eyes. I don’t do crying, it’s just not me, I try to punch the mattress to let my aggression out but the tears overwhelm me and I curl up on the floor instead.
“Oh, Rachey, come on,” Joel’s voice soothes me as he tactfully strokes my hair like I’m a purebred pedigree.
I sniff loudly and rub the tears away from my eyes roughly, Joel hands me the box of tissues that were thoughtfully provided on my bedside cabinet. I’m not sure when he came through, I don’t recall hearing my door opening and him coming in.
“Thanks,” I garble as I pull a couple out.
“What a pair we are, aren’t we?” he says as he lays his head against mine and then pulls me onto his knee like a father would do to his crying child. “I’m sorry, Rach. I have no idea what I was doing last night. I met up with some old friends and lost them in the bar. Some locals were doing shots and I thought it would be fun to join them. I saw you, and well… you know the rest. I don’t know why I kissed you… well, actually that’s a lie. I do know why I kissed you, but I shouldn’t have, it won’t happen again. I need to talk to someone, coming up here probably wasn’t my smartest move to be honest.”
The last of my tears have subsided and I relax into him feeling comforted for a change.
“It’s probably about time I spoke to someone too,” I admit. “I kind of spoke to the beautician the other day, and she made me feel a bit better about things, but I don’t even know her.”
“You confided in your beautician?” he asks and I can hear his judgment.
I can’t help but turn to look at him and start laughing, I don’t even know why that is funny, but for some reason, it is.
I nod, “I did. She was great.”
Joel has started laughing too and before I know it we are both grabbing more tissues to dry our wet faces again.
Once we’ve both simmered down again, Joel speaks, “Listen, why don’t we go and walk into town for some lunch and maybe we can find somewhere to sit and have a chat?”
“I think that would be a really good idea,” I smile at him. “And by the way, you’re forgiven, for last night I mean.”
“Now, see? You’re way too nice, Rachel,” he eyes me with an unimpressed expression.
“What do you mean? Would you rather I held a grudge against you forever?” I pull back surprised at his sudden character estimation of me.
“Of course not, but I think you’ll find, you are just too nice.”
“Well, I take that as a compliment, Joel. Not a negative,” I snap back at him.
“OK, let’s not get into this right now. I’ll explain over lunch, my treat,” he says as he pulls himself up and winces at the pain in his eye and of course, foot now too.
“It’s the least you can do,” I fold my arms and watch as he leaves my room pathetically holding his head in his hand.
Chapter 13
“Umm, can I have the BLT with extra bacon please, and also some cheese too. Can I get chips with that as well, not French fries, but the home made big fat steak ones, please, and a double shot Americano. Oh, and some pancakes,” Joel tells the waitress as he closes his menu and looks at me. “With extra butter and no syrup.”
“Joel, that would feed an army, have you seen the portion sizes in here?” I ask him with big round eyes.
“Rach, I am nursing a hangover here and I didn’t eat yesterday other than at breakfast time. I am literally wasting away. My stomach has started eating itself, I’m ravenous,” he exaggerates.
“What would you like, Miss?” the waitress appears to be finished gazing at Joel and is now acknowledging my presence by taking my order second.
“Can I just have the continental
breakfast please with some orange juice,” I close my menu and hand it back to her before she snaps her pad closed and heads off with another quick glance at Joel. Sheesh.
As I look around the café I’m surprised by how busy it is. It’s just gone ten o’clock in the morning, but for a small place like Aviemore, it would appear that there must be plenty of tourists over Christmas. The air is fresh this morning, the wind has died down and although there still doesn’t appear to be any snow yet, it is starting to feel a whole lot more like Christmas.
“So,” Joel grabs my attention while making his fingers into a steeple.
“So,” I answer him back.
“Where do we start?” he asks and leans back in his side of the cosy booth we managed to grab.
“With you. Let’s start with you,” I take the easy route for myself.
“I knew you were going to say that,” he scoffs and moves his arms off the table as the waitress returns with our drinks.
“Thanks,” I routinely acknowledge.
“You’re welcome, your brunch shouldn’t be long,” she smiles at Joel. It was me that thanked her, not him.
“OK, well, what I am about to tell you, you need to promise me that it will go no further,” he studies me seriously and I start to feel slightly uneasy and anxious for some reason.
“Uh, sure… is everything ok?” I look for any telltale signs that might show on his face. There are none.
“Yes, of course, well, kind of… umm, actually no,” he completely confuses me.
“OK, Joely boy, you’re making zippo sense here,” I frown feeling even more uneasy than a few moments ago.
“Uh, I know,” he sighs and rubs his forehead. “Sorry, this is really difficult, and it’s really hot in here.”
“No it’s not, it’s freezing. Take your hoodie off if you’re hot, and please, get on with it. You’re killing me with anticipation here,” I try to hurry him along, surely it’s not that big of a deal.
“Ehm, right. Well, firstly, I truly am very sorry about last night. That kiss was the most stupid thing I’ve done in a long time, I just needed to do it for myself, no offense by the way, but you’re really not my type,” he half smiles at me but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
I actually feel slightly rejected by his admission that I’m not his type. I mean, like what? Why? Am I not good enough for him? Not pretty enough for him?
“And before you start over thinking that you’re not good enough…” he totally reads my mind and I choke on air. He gives me a moment, “You alright?”
“Yeah, sorry,” I croak and drink some of my juice.
“Well, you’re not my type because I don’t like girls, you see,” he seems to slither down into his side of the booth until I can just see his head and shoulders.
“What?” I think I just said that out loud, but I’m not entirely sure.
I watch as he slurps on his hot coffee and pulls himself to sit properly again. He doesn’t say anything, but evidently gives me a moment to digest what he has just told me.
Suddenly, although somewhat shocked, as I didn’t see this coming at all, everything seems to fall into place. It all makes sense, all these years. Joel, Bex and I, all grew up on the same street, our parents have been good friends for as long as I can remember and me being an only child, they have always been the next best thing to a brother and sister to me. But wait, how the hell have we made it as friends for the last twenty odd years without an ounce of a clue that he might be gay?
“Rachel… are you ok?” he covers my hand with his and I automatically pull it away. “Uh, Rach?”
I see him visibly start to panic as his face falls and his features crumple, probably feeling betrayed and judged, but that’s not at all my issue. I just cannot believe he hasn’t told me before. That I haven’t noticed before, how could I not know this?
I stand up out of my side of the booth and he stands up too, reaching for me, “Rach, wait, please…”
I bat his outstretched arm away from me, and round the table going fiercely into his chest with an extremely tight hug. I feel him instantly relax while I feel the tears streaming down my face again. I must be hormonal, crying twice in one day, that’s my quota used up for the next ten years at least, surely. I have no idea why on earth I am feeling so emotional.
“Wow, girl, we are in a restaurant!” he gently pries himself away from me and I giggle, a silly embarrassed giggle, but a giggle none the less and he chortles, bemused by my show of affection.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what is wrong with me today,” I pull the bobble out of my hair and redo it, busying myself unnecessarily.
“It’s ok, one sure thing I’ve learned so far is that you just never know how people are going to react when you tell them something like this, you know?” he studies me again awaiting an answer.
“I can only but completely imagine, Joel. I just had absolutely no idea, I mean, how can you hide something like this? I mean it’s who you are?” I feel a million questions enter my head but I know I need to slow down. “Wait, does Bex know?”
I watch as Joel’s eyes dart around the café, thankfully everyone seems busy with their own business and don’t seem to have noticed our little heart to heart over here.
“Uh, no. Only a few of my mates know and, of course, my ‘maybe’ boyfriend, Rob,” I watch as he tries not to look too happy.
“You have a man? Joel! You old devil you!” I laugh and round the table back to my own side of our booth. “Right, you need to get me caught up here. Apparently we have a lot of catching up to do,” I smile at him encouragingly and actually feel truly honoured that he would tell me first out of our group.
He grins shyly, “I do, I think. It’s kind of awkward as we’ve been on and off for a while but he’s been incredibly patient as he knows my family don’t know about my sexual orientation yet. It’s hard, but we are exclusive now and he’s asked me to move in with him.”
“That’s great, Joel. You have to do what is right for you, and I’ll easily come with you when you feel ready to tell the family, ok?” I smile reassuringly at him.
“I appreciate that, I really do, Bex,” he gives me the hint of a smile.
“So, tell me more,” I prompt him.
“Well, I guess I’ve always known, I mean, you just know. I dated a few girls at school because it was the ‘right’ thing to do, but my heart was never in it. My dad is the most heterosexual man in the world, and I’m not sure that I can ever tell him. I think mum would be ok, in time maybe, I mean, she has a back up child, you know? But for sure, not dad,” he shakes his head in denial.
“You don’t know that, you said yourself, you have no idea how people will react, people that love you may be surprised, or shocked even, but I know for a fact that your parents would never disown you, or Bex, for that matter,” I reassure him, but can’t help that little niggle of worry that has entered my head. I try not to let it show. His dad is straighter than an arrow, I have no idea how he will take it but he adores his son. That, I do know.
“I’m not telling them yet, I wanted to see how you would react, you’re slightly easier to talk to than Bex, and I’m pretty sure she will be OK too. I really don’t think she will care, do you? I mean, why would she?” he prompts me and I have no idea what to say, I don’t know the answer to his question.
“All you can do is be yourself, Joel. She is your sister and she loves you, she’s still the brat she’s always been, but I can’t imagine she would give you a hard time. Like you just said, why would she? Do you think she maybe already knows? Or has an inkling?”
“Oh no, no way! She’s always hounding me about getting a girlfriend, there is no way she has a clue,” he drinks some of his coffee and as he puts it back on the table, the waitress arrives with our brunch.
We mutually eat in silence as we tuck into our food. We are both starving but I quietly thank Joel for giving me some time to gather my thoughts, whether he is doing it knowingly or not, I don’t care. I’m ju
st glad.
I watch him as he hungrily bites into his four inch high BLT and look for any clues that I’ve missed all these years. I’ve got a few gay friends, and I think they are more obviously gay, but maybe that’s just because I already know. I’ve honestly never thought about it, you just are who you are, end of story. My other friends are definitely more effeminate than Joel, or maybe it’s just because they are more comfortable in their own skin, I see no telltale signs. I mentally scold myself, I’m not actually sure what I’m looking for, it’s not like he’s going to be wearing a neon flashing sign to out his sexuality. He is gorgeous, and he really looks after himself, on paper he is actually the perfect man. He is funny, a gentleman, considerate, usually always looking after everyone, he’s smart and has a great job. Well, I guess when I roll it out like that, it is the biggest giveaway of all, what a crying shame for the female population.
“So, my turn is over,” he snaps me out of my thoughts and watches me carefully as I prolong the task of dissecting my pink grapefruit. “Rachel?”
“Ugh, I know, I know,” I childishly roll my eyes and he throws his napkin at me.
“Come on then, it can’t be as big a deal as mine?” he looks at me with an eyebrow raised. “Or is it?”
“Actually, no. I think I am possibly making a bigger deal out of something that is no big deal to be honest, it’s just silly and embarrassing, and I feel… really silly…” I scrunch up my face at him.
“That’s a great look,” he laughs. “Come on then, hit me with it.”
“OK, so you know Malcolm and I broke up, obviously, otherwise you wouldn’t be up here with us,” I roll my eyes again.
“Hmm…” he replies with a slight nod.
“Well, to be honest, I don’t think we were ever really a proper couple. Umm, actually, I know we were not,” I pause and look at Joel who seems to be appraising me.
“What do you mean? You were with the guy for a year or something like that, right?”
“Yeah, nearly a year, but, umm… ok, here goes, we’ve never had sex,” there, I’ve said it. Phew, it’s out and I didn’t self-combust.
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