by A. E. Murphy
“She’s setting up a dinner with my parents.”
“Yeah,” she sighs and shakes her head. “She does that.”
“Right.” Dillan leans in to kiss his mum’s cheek and then she leans in to kiss mine. “Let’s go. Thank you for dinner, Mum.”
“It’s coming out of your pocket money.”
“I don’t get pocket money,” he says to me, as though worried I’ll think he’s a little kid.
“Thank you for having me here. Your restaurant is amazing.” I go for polite instead of reassuring Dillan that I know he’s a man that makes his own money.
“You come back anytime. I mean it. It’s nice to see Dillan hanging around with someone other than Leroy and Carl.”
“Leroy’s nuts.”
She laughs her agreement. “Oh yeah, I can’t stand him, but I respect him for Dillan.”
“Standing right here.” Dillan tugs on a lock of my hair that has drifted out of my bun and now hangs down the back of my neck. “Come on; let’s go.”
“See you later; have fun.” Gwen grins and waves us away. “Call your dad tomorrow; he misses you.”
“Will do.” With a hand on my back, he propels me forwards, back through the kitchen and past our table. I go to give Maya and Evelyn a wave goodbye but it seems they’ve already left. Never mind. I’m not sure they’d be good influences anyway. “Thank you for coming tonight.”
“Thank you for bringing me,” I respond, wishing on one hand that he wasn’t so eager to leave and wishing on the other that I was already home so I can put this night behind me and move on from my apparent crush on a friend. “The food really was amazing.”
“I’m glad you thought so. My mum will probably use that review on the website, just so you know.”
This actually makes me happier than he knows. “She’s really nice. She looks so young.”
“I’ll tell her you said that; she’ll love you forever.”
We drive home in amicable silence, both of us full and a little tired. I’m ready to sink into a food coma.
“Do you want to come in for a coffee?” I ask when he yawns and rubs his face with both hands after pulling into my driveway.
“You’re tired…”
“So are you.” I smile and nod towards my house. “Come on, you can’t drive like this.”
“That nap should have sorted me out,” he grumbles. “I’m sorry to intrude. Won’t your parents mind?”
“No,” I snort. “They love hosting guests. Besides,” I look at the dark house and lack of vehicles in the driveway, “Dad’s not home so Mum will be in bed already.”
He scratches his jaw, seeming reluctant to follow. “I feel like a creep. This isn’t how I’d normally do things.”
“If you want I can bring the coffee to you?”
Chuckling, he stretches high and shakes his head, no. “I’m coming, sorry. I just don’t want you or your parents to think poorly of me.”
“You’re like… so old for your age, Dillan. Loosen up a bit.”
“I did last night. It’s why I’m so tired now.”
I turn my key in the lock and quietly click the door open just in case she is sleeping. It’s not late but my mum has always been an early sleeper, though not an early riser. She just likes to sleep I think.
“Well lucky for you my dad stocks the best coffee around, according to him. I’m not a fan if it doesn’t have caramel and a shit ton of milk.”
“Make it strong. I’ll be out of your way as soon as I stop yawning.”
Scanning his handsome face, I see tear trails down his cheeks and grin smugly. “Would you like your hankie back?”
“Shut up.”
“Sugar?”
He pokes his head into the living room and gives it a nod of approval. “I daren’t sit on your couch. I’ll fall asleep.”
“Do you want sugar?”
“Oh, sorry, yeah, three.”
“Yikes.” I set about making his drink as he explores the downstairs of my house, looking for somewhere to sit that’s uncomfortable. “We’ll sit outside.” I flick the switch for the outdoor heaters and smile when they light up the lounge chairs that surround a cement block fire pit.
“Outside?” He looks through the window. “Yeah, that’ll do just fine.”
“Good.” I hand him his cup and pick up my own, though mine is a tea because I’m not in the mood for coffee. We pad across the back decking, down a few steps, across the grass and to the lounge area. The chairs are freezing, though the lights we have will heat us up soon enough. “How old are you?”
“I’m eighteen in May.”
“No kidding?”
“You’re still seventeen, right?”
“Until August. I’m the youngest in our year, yet still the smartest.”
“It’s actually true; your grades are ridiculous.”
I smile and turn to face him on my lounge chair, bringing my feet up and tucking them under my butt. “I should do what everyone else is doing and get drunk and laid more, give you a chance to catch up.”
“Laid, huh?” He eyes me carefully as if planning his question. “Have you?”
“Have I…?”
“You know? Gotten laid.”
Blink. “Oh… umm… have you?”
“I asked you first.”
“Yeah.”
“You have?”
“No!” I blurt, panicked. “I was just agreeing that you asked first. My umm… I’m still waiting for that ship to sail.”
“Me too,” he admits and I have to stop breathing to stop myself from choking.
“But you’ve done other stuff… like last night?”
“Yeah.” He stares at the dark sky and so do I, purely in hopes that he doesn’t see how red my cheeks are right now.
“I haven’t,” I admit. “I think I kissed maybe one person back in year five, but I can’t remember if I made it up or not.”
“Wow, you’re totally fresh,” he laughs and at that comment I have to look at him, only to find him grinning and staring at me with wonder. “That’s crazy.”
“Not many people want to kiss the fat girl. I didn’t exactly have a queue of people waiting to kiss me.”
“You’re so self-loathing,” he sighs and leans back. “You’re really pretty and you’re not fat. People just don’t talk to you because you’re so uptight.”
“Why don’t you say what you really mean?” I laugh, though I’m not offended because I know he’s mostly right. “I’m not uptight; I’m just guarded.”
“Whatever that means.” He drains the rest of his coffee and checks his watch. I wonder if he’s eager to leave or if he doesn’t want time to fly. I’m voting for the latter. “You should get out more.”
“Is this not getting out?”
“Maybe try dating or something.” He gives me a sideways look. “I know a couple of guys who are interested.”
“And risk handing over my virtue to a premature ejaculator? I’ll pass,” I giggle and he chokes on his own laughter. “Thank you, Dillan. I appreciate it but the guys I’m interested in aren’t interested in me and unfortunately never will be.”
“Celebrities?” He asks, grinning playfully. “Older men?”
“Cousins,” I lie and squeal when he tries to grab at me.
“That’s just wrong. You have such a sick sense of humour.”
“Yeah,” I agree and recline my lounger before stretching out on it. “I guess I do.” Something he said lets off a little ding in my mind and I peer at him through partially open eyes. “Who’s interested in me?”
“Martyn.”
“Martyn?” I raise my brows, because it’s totally not what I was expecting. He’s actually a really nice guy, a little bit on the silly side but sweet. He’s Polish and has an accent I can hardly understand, but he’s also never been mean to me. I suppose not everybody has been mean to me; I just judge them all based on their friends.
“You’re considering it?” He looks repulsed. I wonder why.
“I have his number…”
“I can approach him without technology.”
Now he looks sceptical. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“It’s me; it’s who I am. If he doesn’t like it then he’s not worth it but I, for one, won’t be spending my life on Instagram, bragging about how amazing my boyfriend is when really he hasn’t actually looked beyond his own phone all week.”
“Agreed.” Dillan reclines his own chair and stretches at the same time as I do. We both lie flat and look up at the sky. “This is as peaceful as I’ve ever heard it in London.”
“Yeah.” I smile softly and inhale a lungful of cool air. “I love it. Thank you for such a good night, Dillan.” Even though you did break my heart. “I really hope you and what’s-her-face hit it off.”
“Me too.”
“If you need somebody to practise on, just let me know.” Silence follows my awkward statement and my eyes ping open when I realise how that sounded. “I meant like… chatting and stuff.”
“Are you sure?” Dillan smiles sleepily and rolls on his lounger to face me.
“Shut up.”
“I really should go.”
“Maybe you should stay the night?” I suggest because of how tired he looks. “My mum won’t mind. She loves showing off the guest room.”
“Or is it that you want to practise?” I can tell he’s joking but my womb still gives a delighted little flip. When he stands, my delighted little flip turns into an unhappy little flop. He holds out a hand; I take it and allow him to pull me up to standing. “That coffee is starting to kick in. Thank you for allowing me the rest.”
“Anytime, Dillan. I’m starting to like your face. It’d be a shame to ruin it in a car wreck.”
He flashes me his handsome, cheeky smile with a little eyebrow wag and pulls me in for a hug before I realise what’s happening. I pat him awkwardly on the back as he holds me around my shoulders and brings me to his chest. I consciously keep our groins apart because I just can’t handle them touching right now. I’ll burn to death.
“Goodnight, don’t see me out,” he orders and gives me a gentle nudge towards the back door that leads to my kitchen. “Go to bed. I want you up early tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow I’m sleeping off my dessert hangover.”
“We’ll see.”
As promised I don’t see him out, though I do watch him drive away when I get to my bedroom. Then, like a cliché teen from a tacky movie, I drop onto the bed and sigh as I think of how close we were and how easy it would have been for me to touch him.
On other news, does Martyn really like me? I’m not totally repulsed by that. Maybe I do need to date someone to get over my silly crush on a friend.
“I’ve lost one and a half stone,” I slide the paper towards my mum, who just gapes at it. “Even with all that food on Saturday. None of my clothes fit me.”
“Oh, honey, I am so bloody proud.” She pinches my nose between her fingers. “Does this mean we’re going shopping?”
I shrug. “No point until I’m at my goal weight.”
“What’s your goal weight?”
“Size ten.” I look down at my smaller tummy podge and pinch it much like she just pinched my nose. “I’m almost there.”
“You don’t seem as exhausted after your morning with
Dillan either.”
“I almost kept up this time.” I’m even prouder for that. “He had to push me harder than usual too and I don’t ache nearly as bad as I used to.”
“You’ve been in a much better mood recently too.”
“After workout high.” I flex my arm muscles and laugh when she pats the flabby under part. “Piss off.”
“Oi!” Dad enters the kitchen and takes my coffee from my hands. “Don’t tell the bitch to piss off.”
“Don’t call the bitch a bitch,” I snap playfully.
“Right here.” Mum waves between us. “You’re both so mean to me.”
I kiss her cheek and try to grab my coffee from my dad’s hands but he moves too quickly. It’s not worth spilling it all over my baggy clothes. They really are loose on me. I have to use a hair bobble on my jeans to keep them up.
“I don’t care if you’re waiting to reach your goal weight,” Mum laughs when she sees my makeshift belt. “We’re getting you a few bits. My daughter doesn’t dress like this.”
“I’d actually appreciate it.”
“Then it’s settled, shopping later?”
“Time to hide my wallet,” Dad mumbles jokingly and Mum, being Mum, pulls it out of her own pocket.
“You need to have it first to hide it.”
He gapes at her, his jaw on the floor. “How?”
“Magic fingers.” She winks and that’s my cue to leave. I hear them kiss before I slam the back door shut.
I bet it’s nice having someone who loves you so deeply they want to attach themselves to your mouth constantly.
Speaking of kissing, lunch time puts a major boost in my ego when I make eye contact with brown eyes, sparkling and sweet. Martyn keeps looking at me across the hall as I sit with Dillan and Leroy and the rest of their friends. He’s with his own little group. I’m certain they’re all Polish, though most of them were born here so they don’t have the accent like he does. The girl to his left, whom I’m sure is a relative of his as they have similar features, used to throw stones at me in the playground. One hit me on my temple and made me bleed. There’s still a scar there.
Leroy is regaling us with a tale of how he got so drunk he fell out of a tree and broke his wrist without memory of how he got up the tree in the first place.
“That’s so funny,” I find myself saying without really thinking about it.
“Normally when you find something funny, you laugh,” Leroy points out.
I shrug. “I’d have laughed had I seen it.”
“You could see it.” He raises his brows, grinning. “If you come to my next party.”
“I’ll consider it if you make it a tall building next time?”
“Oooh,” Carl laughs. “Burn!”
Leroy, being the good sport that he is, flips me off without genuine distaste. He appreciates my sick humour, mostly because his humour is the same; he’s just more in your face about it.
“I’ll take that as a maybe.” I smirk when he doesn’t respond beyond his finger.
“All this flirting…” Amina, an absolutely stunning girl from the year below, leans on our table, sticking her rear in the air in the process. “I thought I was your best girl, Leroy?”
“I’ve upgraded.” Leroy winks at me and even though I know he’s joking, Amina doesn’t and her face flushes with anger and embarrassment. “Are you coming to my party next weekend?”
“Duh.” She flips her thick, black hair over her shoulder. “Why do you even bother asking? When do I not come?”
“You’re killing me here,” Leroy groans and reaches for her. She winks and saunters away, smiling at me as she passes, though not a vicious one. This one is a friendly one, despite Leroy’s joking.
“That’s his night time friend,” Dillan whispers in my ear. I feel his warm breath. It heats my entire body.
“She’s his fuck buddy,” Carl also adds and Leroy hits him upside his head.
“Nah, I’m a changed man. I’m not doing that shit anymore.
I’m looking for something with a bit more substance.”
“Cocaine?” I ask and the entire table laughs loudly, drawing the eyes of those in the canteen.
“Well that and maybe loyalty.” He seems sheepish. I notice the slight pinking of his cheekbones and suddenly I’m seeing Leroy in a completely different light.
“You don’t need bitches for loyalty,” Carl jests. “That’s what your pals are for. Just dip your wick and go for a beer.”
“Is this some kind of role reversal I’m unaware of?” I ask Dillan, leaning back into his thigh so he can hear me.
“He’s not listening; he’s texting his beau.” Ler
oy makes kissy faces at him.
“Get lost,” Dillan snaps and hops down off the table top. “I’ll call you later, okay, Ty?”
I nod because what else can I do? “Have fun.” But not too much because ewww.
He walks across the canteen, leaving me with Carl and Leroy, who keep me involved in the conversation. I’m trying to process this without seeming like a freak. I’m jealous and annoyed that Dillan has left me but I don’t want to be, so I follow Carl and Leroy and distract myself by laughing at their antics.
“Where’d Dillan go?” I ask, after leaving it long enough for them to not suspect me of envy. We’re far out into the middle of the school field and I’m sitting on the grass, phone in hand as they kick a football back and forth.
“Probably to meet his new piece,” Leroy replies. “I think she’s working for Clinton’s office.”
“The shrink?” Carl butts in and kicks the football high. Leroy hits it with his head and it bounces back with perfect precision. “You still see him, Leroy?”
“Only when my own isn’t available.” Leroy sees the counsellor?
“Why do you see a counsellor?” I shouldn’t ask. It’s such a personal question, but I’m curious and my brain to mouth filter doesn’t work.
Leroy looks to the sky for a minute as he rolls his foot over the ball. “Childhood trauma. My dad’s a cop; he’s met some bad people in his work. Some of them…” He looks at me, his eyes haunted. “Let’s just say they aren’t afraid to hurt a kid to get what they want.”
“Fuck.” I shake my head. “Now I feel like a pussy.”
“Dude…” Carl grins, shaking his own head. “A chick just said pussy. I love that. Say it again.”
Maybe he’s not gay?
“You see Clinton too?” Leroy kicks the ball but this time it misses its mark and Carl has to go running after it.
“Sometimes, not in a couple of weeks now.”
“Why?”
“I was bullied a lot,” I explain blankly. “I got depressed.”
“Yeah, well depression is no joke and just because you think somebody has shit worse, doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to feel.”
This makes me feel a little better. “You’re wiser than you look.”