Drawn

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Drawn Page 10

by Anderson, Lilliana


  “I’m sorry for looking at them,” I tell him.

  “It’s ok,” he says, taking a mouthful of juice.

  “They are beautiful though. You’re very talented.”

  He nods in quiet acceptance. I guess people have been praising his talent for a long time, so it must be a normal thing for him now. I take a mouthful of my coffee, watching him, just like he’s watching me.

  My mind begins to sift through the snippets of information I have about him, raising questions that I feel fairly certain he won’t give me answers to. But I ask them anyway. “So, if you aren’t doing art – why was Bec modelling for you?”

  “I do portraits. But it’s all digital. I mainly get commissioned by women, and sometimes couples. It’s kind of like what they do for book covers and movie posters but it’s for their own personal use.”

  “Can I see some of your work?”

  He drops his eyes as he places his coffee mug carefully on the table. “No.”

  “Why? Are they naked?”

  He smiles and shakes his head slightly. “They’re not mine to show.”

  For the first time since coming here, I’m suddenly feeling uncomfortable. I want to know more about him, but he’s not making this easy.

  “Did you know there’s a rumour about you and all those women you have over here?”

  He rubs his hands, back and forth over the top of his short spikey hair. “I don’t tend to listen to rumours,” he glowers.

  “Are they true though? Do these women pay you to… you know.”

  “Who told you this shit? Aaron?”

  “Yes.”

  “Jesus,” he breathes, shaking his head from side to side before he picks up his unfinished plate and walks it over to the kitchen sink.

  “It’s true though isn’t it? I mean, I saw you with that woman. That wasn’t just a portrait was it?” I ask, needing to know the answer.

  “Why does it matter?”

  “Because it does.”

  With his back to me, gripping the edge of the sink, I can see the muscles in his forearms flex and relax, as the silence drags on without any answer to my question. It’s then that I realise it’s all true, and I wish I had just kept my mouth shut.

  “I think I should go,” I whisper, pushing away from the table with the idea to go and get my bag.

  “What do you want me to say Henrietta? I’m sure you’re aware that I’ve had sex before. Is it really important that you know who it was with and why?”

  “I don’t know. I just…” I stop speaking, standing in the centre of the room, not really knowing what it is I want to say. This is all so new to me.

  “Can you just accept that since I met you, I haven’t been with anyone else?” he explains, moving toward me, reaching his hands around my waist, holding me to him.

  “What about that woman I saw in here? What about Bec?” I argue, tears in my eyes as I push against his chest ineffectively. He’s like fucking kryptonite when he’s near me and suddenly I’m helpless against him as my hands rest against his chest, and my fingertips smooth over the soft cotton of his shirt.

  “I don’t lie. I didn’t have sex with either of them. I promise you that.”

  “I just don’t like the idea of you being in a room alone with a naked woman,” I whisper, resting my head on his shoulder, already giving in.

  “It’s my job Henrietta,” he explains, gliding his hand soothingly up and down my back. “If I don’t have that income, I won’t be able to afford this place. My course. My car. The fees to train with your father. It all costs money. I have two things that I’m great at – portraits and fighting. I can’t make a huge amount of money back alley fighting without getting busted by the cops. So I do portraits. The fact that they’re risqué is what keeps me in business. But I promise you, it will just be portraits – nothing else.”

  “What if they don’t understand that? What if they think they can sleep with you?”

  “Babe, I’m not a gigolo – it’s not like they were paying me for my sexual services. And I didn’t ‘sleep’ with any of them. You’re the only girl I’ve ever literally slept with and when you’re ready, you’ll be the only girl I ever make love to. I want you to be mine Henrietta, and in return, I’ll be yours.”

  Chapter 10

  “Do you want me to help you move?” Damien asks, as he drops me off at home after breakfast.

  “I do. But it’s all planned. My parents are helping, and I think it’s important that it’s just me and them. This is kind of a big deal for them – and for me of course. I just… do you understand?” I ask, stopping because I don’t feel as though I’m making any sense.

  “Of course I do. You go. Move into your new place and call me when you’re done,” he says, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles. “And can you actually leave your phone on this time?”

  “Absolutely.”

  When I get inside, my parents are both dressed and ready, sitting together on the couch watching TV. As I enter the room, they turn their heads toward me, and I can tell they’re expecting an explanation.

  “Morning,” I say, as cheery as I can, pretending like I didn’t just spend the night at some guy’s house.

  “Shhhh,” my mother hisses at my father. “She’s eighteen.” Her voice is low, but I hear her clearly as she admonishes my grumbling father. “Damien again?” she asks me, setting a smile upon her face.

  “Yeah,” I nod, giving her a small smile. I can tell she wants to ask me a lot of questions, but the stormy look on my dad’s face means that they’ll have to wait until we get a chance to be alone.

  “Let’s get this done,” my father proclaims, as he gets up from the couch with a slight grunt that shows his age. Forever the gentleman, he holds his hand out to help my mother up. “We’ll start with the boxes by the door. Hopefully it will all fit in one run. If not, I’ll drop you and your mother off, and then come back for the rest.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I smile, trying to keep my excitement level even. I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to be keening about leaving them. Even though I’m fighting the urge to squeal and jump up and down yelling ‘moving day!’

  Piling into the Barina, we let dad do the driving to my new accommodations. The trip is no more than ten minutes, but it feels like it takes forever. I’m travelling toward my future, toward my freedom, and I can’t wait.

  I love my parents, I really do, and I will visit them as much as I can. But I can’t breathe in that house. I need my space.

  As we pull up in front of the townhouse, my heart beats excitedly in my chest as I jump out of the car and jog up to the front door, calling to my parents that I’ll open the door to clear the path for the boxes.

  “Happy moving day!” Jessica singsongs, as she opens the door for me. “Where’s your stuff?” She looks at my empty hands and frowns, a flash of worry crossing her features.

  “It’s in the car,” I smile, thumbing over my shoulder. “I was just going to open the door so we can bring it in.

  “Great. Let me help you,” she says, stepping outside and calling out to Kensi that I’m here.

  I don’t have a huge amount of boxes, but the Barina is tiny, so it didn’t fit everything inside. Working together, we take all of my stuff upstairs and start unpacking while my dad returns home to get the last of my things.

  “Can I get you something to drink Mrs Davis?” Jessica asks my mum. “Tea? Coffee?”

  “That would be lovely. Tea please, white with no sugar,” my mother returns, opening up a box and stacking items on my bed.

  “Great, I’ll just go and put the kettle on. Do you want something Etta?”

  “No thanks, I’m all good.”

  As she exits the room, Kensi finally decides to make a very bleary eyed appearance in the doorway to say hi, before mumbling something about coffee and following after Jessica.

  “Those two seem like polar opposites,” my mother muses.

  “They’re nice though.” I move to the
wardrobe with my hanging clothes over my arm and begin positioning them in a tidy row.

  “So… since we’re alone. Do you want to tell me what’s going on with Damien?”

  “I have no idea what’s going on with Damien. I barely even know him. I just know that I’m drawn to him,” I explain, glancing at her over my shoulder as I continue to work on packing away my things.

  “Do you think it’s wise to be spending the night with him so soon?” she asks, sliding clothes into my drawers.

  “I didn’t have sex with him mum. We just slept, that’s all.”

  “You’re an adult now honey. I can’t tell you what to do. I just want you to be careful. Don’t rush anything.”

  “I’ll be careful,” I assure her, moving on to a box full of personal items. “Mum? Why is dad so funny about him? He was happy when he thought we were training. Why does it bother him if I date Damien?”

  She pulls a set of sheets out of a box and shakes it out, ready to make the bed she’s just finished clearing. I stand across from her, taking a hold of the opposite corner to help.

  “Oh, I think your dad would be funny about any guy, and I guess he didn’t think Damien would make a move on you.”

  “Why? Because he’s one of his students?”

  “No, because he was friends with Craig. You probably wouldn’t remember him. He was all pimply and had braces on his teeth back then – he wasn’t the good looking man he is now, that’s for sure,” she chuckles, smoothing her hand over the bed before grabbing the top sheet. “They were in the same training group, and got along really well - if you have a look there’s a few photos of them together at the dojo. Damien was there that night too. The night Craig fell in the river,” she informs me, not making any eye contact as she continues making the bed. “Not that it was his fault, he was just one of the many kids that were there… I guess he feels a little responsible – or guilty – for not realising Craig had gone missing… I don’t know. We don’t blame him of course. You dad actually has a bit of a soft spot for him. The poor kid hasn’t had the easiest life, he’s been through a lot, so your dad’s worried that his feelings toward you are a little misguided.”

  “What do you think?” I ask, suddenly feeling as though Damien might only want me out of guilt, or misguided loyalty.

  “What do I know really? You’re looking at a woman who married a man, who seems very much like Damien. Moody, demanding, hard to get along with. But together, we work. I think you just have to go with your gut in these situations. Aikido helps to keep them centred. So does a lot of love and understanding.”

  As I process this information, Jessica returns. “Tea’s ready,” she informs us. “And it sounds like Mr Davis has just returned with the last of the stuff.”

  While mum follows Jessica into the kitchen, I head outside to help my dad unpack the car. “Is this everything?” I ask.

  “Yep,” he replies, leaning into the car to pull out my lamp. “It’s amazing how much you can fit in when you don’t have two women in the car.”

  It takes a couple of trips back and forth from the car to my bedroom to get all of my things. All the while, I’m trying to think of a way to talk to my dad about Damien. In the end, I just come out with it.

  “I didn’t realise Damien was friends with Craig.”

  “Um… yeah, I teamed them up as sparring partners. Don’t you remember him? They used to come first and second at a lot of the tournaments.”

  I laugh. “I never paid attention to what everyone came. I only knew what Craig came. I was too busy stuffing around with my friends.”

  “Yeah, I remember. You were always trying to get your mum to give you change for the vending machines. You were good though, you could have been great.”

  “I just liked doing the same thing my dad and brother were doing.”

  Pressing his lips together, he lets a burst of air out his nose as he plugs the lamp into the wall and places it on the square table next to my bed, checking that it’s still working by turning it on then off.

  “So… is there anything going on between you and him?” he asks, as he stands up straight. He’s not really looking at me, so I can tell he finds this all a little awkward.

  “Not yet,” I tell him. “We’re just getting to know each other.”

  Nodding, he places his hands in his pockets and looks around the room. “Just… watch yourself with him ok? He’s um… a complicated kid.”

  “What does that mean? Should I stay away from him?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. What are you saying to her?” my mother asks in a clipped tone, as she re-enters the room.

  “I’m saying to be careful,” he exasperates. “She’s my daughter. I want her to be careful.”

  “I’ll be careful,” I promise. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

  ***

  After my mum and dad thoroughly inspect my new home, they reluctantly leave to let me settle in. Kensi and Jessica have been on their best behaviour, so I’m pretty sure my parents feel as though they’ve left me in good hands. Although as soon as we hear their car drive off, Kensi yells, “PARTY!” as she throws her hands in the air and dashes to the kitchen, returning with a bottle of butterscotch schnapps and three shot glasses.

  “Seriously Kens? We’re starting at lunch time?” Jessica laughs. “Didn’t you drink enough last night?”

  “The best way to beat a hangover is to just stay drunk,” she explains, pouring the sweet liqueur into the glasses. “Plus, we need to celebrate.” She hands us both a glass and holds hers to her lips. “To new friends and lots of drunken nights together,” she toasts, lifting her glass upward slightly before tossing it down her throat.

  “Cheers,” Jessica and I say, as we do the same. The thick sweet liquid is like mouthful of nectar as it slides down my throat.

  “Wow, I think I just got a cavity from that,” I laugh. “It’s like drinking a liquid lolly.”

  “It is, I love it,” Kensi laughs, sliding her tongue inside the shot glass to lick away the remnants.

  “Are you finished unpacking?” Jessica asks.

  “Almost. I just have a little more to do,” I explain, prompting us all to head up to my room while I finish.

  They help me a little, but mostly, they just keep me company while we chat and get to know a bit more about each other.

  Kensi takes it upon herself to leaf through the things in my wardrobe, complaining that she won’t be able to steal my clothes from me due to the huge difference in our heights.

  “Oh, you have to wear this dress out tonight!” she exclaims, pulling out a royal blue body hugging singlet style dress. “It will look amazing with your hair and eyes,” she says.

  “I have it in a green as well,” I tell her, flicking through my clothes to show her. “Where are we going anyway?”

  “Oh, there’s a party at number four,” Jessica explains. “Cute boys, a BBQ and loud music. It’s going to be fun.”

  “You should invite Aaron,” Kensi intimates, nudging me lightly with her elbow as she re-hangs my dress. “And maybe he could bring Jeremy.”

  “You liked him huh?” I laugh, remembering how every time I saw her on Thursday night she was hanging off him.

  “Very much. I need another chance. So call him – please,” she begs, holding her hands together like she’s praying.

  “Who’s that guy you went home with on Thursday, Etta?” Jessica interjects. “He came over to where we were sitting and demanded your bag. Then he just carried you out like you were a baby.”

  “Oh my god! That’s right. He was HOT. But very unhappy,” Kensi adds, turning her mouth downward. “Who was he? Please tell me he’s your brother or a relative of some sort. Otherwise, there’s no chance for the rest of us.”

  “I thought you were into Jeremy?” I respond, setting out my nail polishes on top of my dresser.

  “I am, but if things don’t work out…” She shrugs as if it’s all no big deal. “I have to keep my options open.”
r />   “His name is Damien and he’s my…” I shake my head and bounce my shoulders. “I don’t know what he is at the moment. It’s all very new.”

  “Well then, invite them both,” Kensi shrugs.

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I start to say when we hear a knock at the door.

  “I’ll get it,” Jessica says, jumping up from where she’s sitting on the end of my bed and bouncing down the stairs, her honey streaked, brown ponytail swinging happily behind her.

  “I don’t know where that girl gets so much energy,” Kensi comments, shaking her head as she moves over to my chest of drawers and starts inspecting the nail polish. “Can I borrow this one?” she asks, holding up a black bottle with silver glitter mixed through it.

  “Sure,” I agree.

  “We’ve got a visitor,” Jessica singsongs, as she reaches the top of the stairs. Looking out my door, I can see that she’s followed by Aaron.

  “Hey, happy moving day,” he smiles, handing me a small wrapped gift as he leans in to kiss my cheek.

  “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me anything,” I exclaim, pulling open the package to reveal a hook for my wall.

  “It’s to go with the key chain,” he explains, tilting his head as he shrugs a little. “I’m just losing my keys all the time. So I thought this might save you from the same problem.”

  “This is great Aaron,” I tell him, opening up the packet and removing the film from the adhesive side before sticking it on the wall near my door. After holding it on the wall for the required ten seconds, I release it and step back. “There. Perfect.”

  “Almost,” Jessica says, rushing out of the room and returning with my new house keys. “This one is the front door, and this one is for your bedroom door.” She shows me each key before handing them over.

  “Will you attach them to the key chain for me?” I ask Aaron, moving over to my desk where I had sat the key chain he gave me for my birthday.

  “Of course.” He takes them from me and bows his head as he pries the metal ring open and winds the keys in place.

  “So, there’s a party in our complex tonight. You busy?” Kensi asks Aaron, as she spins from side to side on my desk chair.

 

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