“Actually, I’m free,” I tell him, smiling and nodding at my mum, trying to hold two conversations at once as she starts telling me that I’d better come home for dinner since it’s my last night and all.
Grinning at her, I place my hand on her shoulder as if it will silence her. Sometimes I wonder who the child is between the both of us.
“Great. Would you like to meet somewhere or would you like to come over to my place?”
“I’ll come to you, I don’t have long,” I tell him, hanging up and promising my mum I’ll be back before six.
***
I arrive at Aaron’s at around four-thirty, ready to meet him for our ‘talk’. I have a pretty good idea what it’s about. I vaguely remember kissing him last night before I ended up outside with Damien. So I’m assuming he wants to DTR. Personally, I find defining the relationship to be a bit of a waste of time. I mean, we’re at uni. We have our whole lives ahead of us still. As much as Aaron is a great friend of mine, I think I need to make it clear that anything that happens between us needs to be fairly light-hearted, especially after what happened with Damien last night. I’m obviously not in the right headspace to be serious with him right now.
Besides that, I’m moving out of home for a chance to set my own rules and do my own thing. I don’t particularly want a steady boyfriend. I just want fun, so if he can agree to that, we’ll be just fine.
As I take the stairs up to the second floor, my eyes stray immediately to Damien’s door. The six has swung down again, so I pause and reach up to press it back in place.
Once again, I can hear music from inside, and I hesitate about moving on. Perhaps I should just thank him? I mean, he did kind of save my arse last night… Feeling as though it’s the right thing to do, I bang on the door and wait. The music cuts out, and I hear shuffling on the other side.
“Put this on,” he says to someone inside.
Realising he isn’t alone, I take a step back from the door, suddenly feeling silly for stopping by.
“What’s up?” he asks casually as he answers the door – once again shirtless. My eyes drag down his torso as I try to remember what it was I wanted to say.
“Don’t you ever wear a shirt?” I blurt out.
“It’s my apartment. I can walk around naked if I want,” he states.
“Who’s there Damien?” a woman’s voice asks. I expect it to be that Bec girl again, but when she comes into view, it’s someone a bit older, and all she’s wearing is a sheet.
He shoots a look over his shoulder and narrows the door, blocking my vision with his body.
“What can I do for you Henrietta?” he asks calmly.
“It’s Etta. And I um… just wanted to thank you for helping me last night. I think you saved me from getting into a lot of trouble with my dad.”
“My pleasure,” he nods. “You didn’t have to come all the way over here just to say that. You could have called.”
“Oh. I didn’t. I came to see Aaron. I just thought – since I was here…”
His posture stiffens. “Did you drive here?”
Frowning, I shake my head. “I don’t have a car. I caught the train.”
“Come and get me when you’re done. I’ll drive you home.”
“It’s fine. You’re busy. I’m used to getting trains.”
“I will drive you,” he insists.
Rolling my eyes, I step away from the door to end the conversation. “Whatever tickles your fancy,” I respond, walking away from him while fully intending on leaving without telling him. It’s not like he’ll be able to hear over the music anyway.
As I reach Aaron’s door and knock, I hear the soft click of Damien’s door just before the music turns back on. I’m still looking over my shoulder frowning when Aaron answers.
“Hey,” he smiles. “What’s up?”
“Oh… nothing,” I answer as I step inside. “I just don’t get him.” I say, putting my bag down on Aaron’s couch.
“Who - Damien?”
“Yeah. I just stopped off to say thanks for driving me home last night and he was acting really weird.”
“He’s probably got one of his women in there with him,” he snorts.
“Yeah. That’s how it looked,” I comment, not sure why I find it so annoying. I mean, it’s not like we’re dating. He’s just this random guy who kissed me senseless and rejected me. When I really think about it, I should just forget him – he keeps getting in my way.
“There’s a rumour that he’s a male prostitute,” he states as a matter of fact.
“Seriously? What makes everyone think that?”
“Because he seems to have a lot of money for a uni student. It’s got to come from somewhere,” he shrugs.
“Maybe he gets the money some other way?” I suppose, remembering that he was fighting for money last night.
“Where? From his fighting scam?”
“You know about the fighting?”
“Yeah, I’ve seen him hustle people a few times. Some of the guys like to take bets to see how many guys it will take to beat him.”
“And how many guys is that?”
He shrugs. “I don’t think anyone knows yet.”
“Have you ever tried to fight him?” I ask.
“No, have you seen him fight? I’m not stupid. I know my limits,” he laughs. “But don’t worry yourself about him. If you stay out of his way, he stays out of yours.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, let’s forget about him. I want to talk about you,” he says, moving toward me. “How are you feeling after last night? I’m sorry I got you so drunk. I feel so guilty over it.”
“Don’t be. I’m the one who was drinking them. You weren’t shoving them down my throat.”
“Well, I should have been taking care of you,” he murmurs, slipping his hands around my waist. “I’m sorry.” He tilts his head down slightly and brushes his lips against mine. “I’ve missed your lips.”
“Is that a fact?” I smile.
“Yeah, I want more.” Softly, he kisses me, gently pulling my bottom lip between his, humming as he breaks his mouth away from mine. Guilt washes over me as flashes of last night and Damien enter my mind. As much as I like Aaron, and as much as I enjoy kissing him, this just doesn’t compare to whatever it was I felt with Damien.
“Do you think we could pick up where we left off?” he suggests, forcing my focus to return to him. “Now that you have your freedom.”
“I think that we can maybe just see what happens. I’m not ready to jump into anything,” I tell him, trying to let him down gently.
He steps back a little, breaking our contact, giving me some space.
“I guess I just thought that since your dad won’t be looking over our shoulder, things could be different between us,” he says, running his hand over his head and he rests the other on his hip.
“Aaron, I can’t switch my feelings on and off. We’ve been ‘just friends’ for almost a year now. Let’s just go out with the group, have fun, and see what happens. I just…I don’t want to go from my parent’s house straight into a relationship. I want some time to just be me. I don’t want to worry about anyone else. Does that make sense?” I try to explain. I really don’t want to hurt his feelings. He is, after all, one of my very best friends.
“So what you’re saying is, I can make out with you on dance floors, but you won’t actually date me?” he clarifies.
“It sounds silly when you say it like that. I guess I just shouldn’t have let you kiss me at all…”
“No, Etta. It’s fine. I’ve waited this long. I can wait a little longer.”
“I care about you a lot Aaron. I just… I need to find me in here,” I explain again, touching my head.
“I get it Etta. Really I do. And I’ll be right here for when and if you need me ok?” he says, before his mouth turns up in a cheeky half smile. “I’m even available for booty calls if you’d like,” he laughs, just as Jeremy bursts through the door.
“Who’s taking b
ooty calls?” he asks, walking straight into the kitchen and opening the fridge. He offers us a bottle of beer, but I shake my head to decline. I think my body has had enough alcohol for a few days.
“Etta,” Aaron says simply.
“Awesome, I love redheads. I’ll grab your number,” he laughs, giving me a wink before tossing his head back as he takes a mouthful of drink.
“On that note, I’m going home. The big move is tomorrow,” I explain.
“I know. Call me if you need help,” Aaron says.
“Will do. See you Jez,” I call to Jeremy, who’s now rummaging in the cupboard for some food.
“See ya,” he calls back.
I give Aaron a finger wave and smile as I mouth ‘bye’ to him and exit the apartment. I close the door as quietly as I can, not wanting to alert Damien to my presence. I just want to catch the train like I normally do. I don’t need some guy who, as far as my friends are concerned, is some ninja sex worker. But as far as my father is concerned, seems to be the ideal solution for letting me leave the house – and I don’t need, nor do I want, a body guard.
Luck doesn’t seem to be on my side. When I pass Damien’s door, it opens and he immediately follows me out.
“What are you doing?” he asks from behind me.
“Going home,” I reply, taking the stairs quickly and pushing through the door to outside.
“I told you I would take you.”
“I don’t need for you to take me,” I state, still walking ahead of him.
“Henrietta,” he calls.
I stop. There’s something about hearing my full name that always affects me. I guess that’s why I hate it so much. “What?!”
He doesn’t actually say anything. He just takes me by the hand and walks briskly with me toward his perfectly polished car.
Opening the passenger door, he guides me in, leaning across me to click my seatbelt in.
“I could have done that myself,” I say.
“I know,” he states, closing my door before walking around to the driver’s side.
After a few moments of driving in white knuckled silence, he finally speaks.
“What’s going on with you and Aaron?”
“I don’t know. What’s going on with you and that woman who was in your apartment? What’s going on with you and Bec?”
“This isn’t about me.”
“I don’t even understand why this is about me. Why are you so interested now? You lost interest pretty fast last night.”
“You took my restraint as lost interest?” he asks incredulously, taking his eyes off the road momentarily to shoot me a look.
“No. I took your restraint as the act of a man who is too scared of my father to do what he really wanted to do.”
“What?!” he spits out, suddenly pulling the car over to the side of the road.
“What are you doing?”
“The things I do in my personal life have absolutely nothing to do with your father. Am I more careful with you out of respect for him? Yes I am. But when I stopped last night, it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with the fact that I didn’t want to fuck you – which is what we were about to do.”
“You didn’t want to fuck me? Um… ok… great. What part of that speech is supposed to explain how you didn’t lose interest? Because not wanting me, sounds a lot like disinterest to me,” I bite back, confronted by his outburst.
Slowly, he eases out the breath in his chest, as he looks out at the traffic on the road beside us.
“You fuck people you don’t care about, Henrietta. There’s a whole other word for what it’s called when you do,” he says quietly, flicking his blinker on before pulling back into the stream of traffic.
He cares about me? Swallowing hard, I sit in silence for the remainder of the drive, having no idea how I should respond or exactly what his words meant.
“Thanks for the lift,” I say, as he pulls up outside my house. For some reason I feel as though I’ve just gotten into trouble, and I want to do something to make it better. “I didn’t sleep with him,” I blurt out suddenly. “With Aaron… just in case you were worried… or just wondering…” My voice trails off. I’m not even sure why I’m saying this. I don’t know how to deal with what’s going on in my life right now – especially Damien. I don’t even know how to begin classifying what this is.
He looks me in the eye, his eyes darkening as he studies my face. I feel this great pull toward him and find myself wishing that he’d reach across and take me in his arms…
“I’ll see you around,” he says, clicking the red button on the seatbelt, releasing me - dismissing me.
“Of course,” I whisper, once again feeling dejected at the end of our brief time together.
Getting out of the car, I head inside quickly, wanting to get out of his magnetic field, or aura, or whatever it is that he exudes. I need the space to breathe. As soon as I shut the door, I hear his car drive away and close my eyes, as I try to focus on calming down. What the fuck is wrong with me?
After a moment, I feel calm enough to push of the door and head into the kitchen where my mother is chopping up a head of lettuce for tonight’s salad.
“How was your friend, and will we ever be meeting her?” she asks.
“Is dad home?”
“Not yet.”
“It was a he. It’s that guy dad flipped out about me dating last year. We’re still good friends though.”
“Ha! I knew it! I saw his photo flash up on your phone’s screen. Is he still just a friend or is there potential for him to become your boyfriend?”
“At the moment he’s just a boy who’s a friend.”
“At the moment huh?”
“Yeah,” I smile. “I’m just not sure if I want it to turn into something more,” I confide in her, stealing a piece of already sliced carrot and popping it in my mouth.
“What’s wrong with him? Is he shorter than you or something?”
“No,” I laugh. “It’s not that at all. He’s actually a couple of inches taller than me.”
“Well, that’s definitely a plus. What’s holding you back?”
“Well, it was dad. But now…I don’t know. He’s nice, I get along really well with him. But when he kisses me, I don’t really feel that spark, you know?”
“That spark? What do you know about that spark young lady? Exactly how many boys have you been kissing lately?” my mother asks, a huge smile on her face.
“Only two.”
“Henrietta Davis. I let you out for one night and you’ve already attracted the interest of two boys. Don’t let your father know or he’ll build a tower and lock you up inside.”
“There is no way I’m talking to dad about that kind of stuff.”
It’s at that moment my father chooses to enter the house, calling out hello from the front door. My mother grins at me, her eyes sparkling mischievously from our shared secret as she holds her finger to lips and silently shushes me.
Not every eighteen year old girl has the same type of relationship with their mother that I do, and I’m grateful that she’s someone I can talk to. Otherwise I think I would have felt dreadfully lonely in this world due to my strict curfew. While I was sitting at home, a lot of my friends were out, bonding and doing things that young adults do. Really, my friends are just Aaron’s friends. It’s been because of my history with him that I even have any sort of social life. It’s not that I’m unlikeable, once again, I think it comes down to the age thing. It’s really hard to fit in with people who are at an age where they are driving and drinking, when you’re still a teen. So I’ve spent a lot of time with my mum – really she’s like my best friend. I can tell her almost anything and know she’ll understand me.
“Was that Damien’s car I saw leaving our street?” my dad asks, as he enters the kitchen, heading straight over to my mother to give her a hug and a kiss in greeting.
“Um… yeah. He actually lives a couple of doors down from one of my uni friends. H
e drove me home.”
“Why is he driving you home?” he asks. “You’re not training. There’s no reason for him to have anything to do with you.”
“I don’t know dad. I was hoping you could tell my why he’s so interested in me.”
He grunts. I’m not sure if it’s happy, angry, thoughtful or just a grunt for the sake of a response.
“You can always call him off,” I suggest. “Shockingly, none of the other girls have a bodyguard.”
“What are you talking about?” he frowns.
“Oh my god, Dad. You’re the one who has him following me around. Isn’t he your guard dog – making sure your daughter never puts a foot out of line? I don’t need to be taken care of Dad! You’ve got him thinking I’m a baby too.”
“I’ve done nothing of the sort. He’s come to that conclusion on his own.”
I pause and give my father my best unimpressed look. “Can you just call him off please? Tell him that you don’t want him to be my guardian?”
“I didn’t tell him to watch you.”
“What do you mean? I thought you sent him out on Thursday to keep an eye on me?”
“No. Why would I do that? You’re eighteen now. I promised you I’d back off.”
“That man!” I say pushing back from the table. “Mum, can I borrow your car? I need to go and speak to someone.”
“Sure honey,” she laughs. I don’t understand why she is finding this all so amusing. “The keys are hanging by the door.”
“Jan, this isn’t funny,” I hear my father tell her as I grab her keys off the hook.
“Just let her deal with it,” she responds, as I slam the door behind me. Jumping in her car, I take off to confront Damien. What game is this guy playing? I just don’t understand it. Why lead me to believe he’s been asked to protect me. This is just ridiculous, and I need to get to the bottom of it.
I pull up outside his building and stomp toward the entrance, continuing my stomping as I climb the stairs until I find his door.
“Damien!” I yell, thumping on his door with my fist. “Damien!”
“I’m coming. Hang on,” he calls from inside. “What is it?” he exasperates as he opens the door, water beading all over his body as if he’s just been in the shower… my mouth goes dry and my thoughts leave my mind as my eyes drag over him – to his hand as it clutches the towel about his waist.
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