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Grease Monkey Jive

Page 28

by Paton, Ainslie


  “Now you can’t tell me that’s not love, twisted and perverted and not helping anyone, but when it hits you, there is nothing you can do about it but try to live with it and hope you can have that person in your corner for the rest of your life.”

  Alex felt her shock register on her face.

  “If you love this boy, you hold on to him. You try to make a go with him, and if it works or if it doesn’t work, that’s life, but at least you’ll know you’ve tried. If thinking that makes me a silly romantic, well I just don’t care.”

  Alex was on her feet and around the table, wrapping Gran in a hug.

  “You’re not silly. I never knew you felt that way. I never knew about Mum. I thought she hated men.”

  “She kept it all separate from you. It was a long time ago any way. You were only a little kid when she last dated anyone. Don’t tell her I told you, she’ll only be upset. Do you love that boy?”

  Alex released her grandmother to light the oven. “No.”

  “Look at me and tell me.”

  Alex opened a draw and pulled out a pan, then went back to the fridge.

  “Alex?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know whether to believe it’s possible.” She abandoned her pretence of helping to prepare dinner. “I don’t know how to go about it. I’m so scared, Gran. I can only manage it if I tell myself it’s not true, but the more time I spend with him, the harder it is to convince myself I can ever let him go.”

  “Oh my darling, tell me how he makes you feel.”

  “Like the sun is shining on the dullest day. Like the air is fresher, like colours are brighter and anything is possible. He makes me feel smarter, stronger, more beautiful, and more hopeful than I’ve ever felt before. He makes me feel like I could fly if I wanted it enough and he’d be there to catch me if I fell.”

  “Has he told you he loves you?”

  “Not with words, but with the things he does for me. He’s so considerate. He’s so normal. That’s the hardest thing to get used to because he had a really rough childhood. I feel like I might not be able to breathe properly any more if he weren’t in my life. I’m so confused. He makes me feel weak for needing him. At the same time I’ve never felt so good for being with him.”

  “You didn’t have an easy childhood either, and your mother was very tough on you.”

  “Gran, that’s nothing compared to what Dan went through. You have no idea what he’s gotten past.”

  Alex’s face was crumpled with anxiety now, and it was Gwen’s turn to hug. “The words are important, but they only mean something if they come after the facts, otherwise it’s all just nonsense.” She stroked her granddaughter’s hair as Alex started to cry, quiet tears of confession and relief, but also of uncertainty and fear.

  “Don’t cry, my girl, you’ll work it out, it’s not so very hard. It sounds to me like you have some facts to deal with and a lovely man to help you deal with them.”

  Later, when Alex lay in her own narrow bed, her head churned with new ideas. The knowledge that her mother dated and maybe wasn’t such a man hater, but a romantic herself, even the tragic kind, should have been enough to keep her mind turning for hours alone, but the idea she was in love with Dan kept her eyes pinned open and her thoughts in a disorganised whirl. There wasn’t much chance she’d sleep well tonight.

  How could she not have known? How could she have denied it, as late as this evening with Scott and then Gran? Scott was right. She was a self-deluded fool, acting like a player because she was too frightened to face the truth. She was scared to death she was in love with a surfer boy, caveman, grease monkey, whose only ambition was the next big wave, and she had no idea what to do about that.

  At 2am she went back to the kitchen and heated milk. Gran used to give her hot milk when she was a kid and couldn’t sleep. It was then she noticed a text message on her phone.

  Miss u can’t sleep cause ur not here Jeff thnks I’m pathetic.

  It was sent at 1am and she pictured Dan, rumpled and tired, his hair a mess, a shadow of stubble on his face, in his own kitchen drinking hot milk with Jeff’s head on his knee. It was too late to reply, but she was still holding the phone when it pinged again.

  Don’t care if pathetic can’t wait to see hold kiss lov u.

  She stared at the last two words. Did the lack of punctuation and the truncation make them any less real? Did the time it was sent make it mean more or less? It was only a text after all, only meant playfully, and he didn’t know she was awake to see it. Yes, she decided. It was just middle of the night play at love, and fun for two.

  She typed, lov u 2 and then looked at the screen in panic. Play or not, it was too close to the bone. She deleted the message and put down the phone, then, disgusted at her own gutlessness, picked it up again and typed, Don’t like men pathetic, except abt me. Go 2 sleep pls so I won’t feel guilty wearing u out 2morow nite.

  The reply came back while she was sipping her milk, Can’t believe ur awake go sleep will be as pathetic as u want whenever u want.

  Alex was smiling, the last of the milk doing its job on her limbs, making them heavy with fatigue, the contact with Dan settling her nervous stomach, when the phone pinged again. This’d turned into the text version of one of those phone conversations where neither party wanted to be the first one to say goodnight and hang up. She thought he might wish her sweet dreams or riff on his pathetic nature or throw in a comment from Jeff, but she laughed out loud when she opened his message.

  I like my women guilty.

  44. Balance

  Familiarity did not make it less of a freak show.

  This time Dan knew what to expect from the disco ball lighting and Barry Barton’s dad jokes to the sequins, fake orange tan, and glow-in-the-dark teeth of the competitors, but it did nothing to help his sense of equilibrium. He felt unbalanced from the moment he entered the room to the sound of Rod Stewart’s Sweet Little Rock ‘n Roller.

  Only Alex holding his hand made it possible for him to keep walking and talking like a normal human being. Alex made him feel like anything was possible, like they might score enough points to keep their competition hopes alive, like he might be able to make a new life for himself as far away from the image of Jimmy as possible, with a woman he admired. And wasn’t that a freaking miracle?

  “This really is whacked,” said Mitch, putting voice to Dan’s first impression of the room. “But I kinda like it.”

  “You just like the fact she came with you.” Dan inclined his head towards Belinda who was walking ahead with, Scott, Trevor, and Carlie.

  Mitch’s face split in a wicked grin. “Watch how happy I’ll be if she leaves with me.”

  “The chances?”

  “About even money. That’s what Ant’s got on it if you’re interested.”

  “Is there nothing he won’t bet on?”

  Mitch put a thinking face on and pretended to consider it and both of them laughed. Dan checked to see if Fluke was still out of earshot, behind them with Ant. “Does Fluke know Carlie’s interested?”

  “Does a chicken have lips?”

  “Should we tell him?”

  “Now where would the fun in that be?”

  Dan laughed. It was an evil trick of fate that the three of them were romantically entangled at the same time, even if Fluke didn’t yet know he’d won a heart.

  “Some mates you are!” said Alex, but she looked just as amused at the idea of Fluke and Carlie getting together. She gave his arm a squeeze and went to change into her rock ‘n roll outfit.

  In the men’s change room Scott was more on edge than he was, and since he was white knuckling, it had to mean Scott was a head trauma case. He was pacing, making an odd clomp, click sound with his one boot, one shoe on the tiled floor, a peg leg pirate in search of a parrot.

  He was raving about how the pressure was really on, now that the element of surprise was out of the way, and every competitor on the floor was gunning for them given their trick with the loopho
le. He threw names and facts and statistics at Dan at such a rapid rate that the only thing Dan could do was grip the wooden slat seat and blink at him.

  “We need to pull a big performance out of the box, Dan. There won’t be any sympathy points. If anything the judges will go harder on us in the soft zones like entertainment value and artistic merit.”

  “Hoist that sail,” Dan muttered.

  “Some of the couples have brought in choreography consultants. Can you believe that?”

  Scott swung about. “It’s never happened before.”

  “Swab that deck.” Dan was absolutely sure Scott wasn’t listening, especially when he didn’t check his pacing and said, “Marjorie reckons the judges are going to be tougher on all the couples in this round.”

  “I think I’m in love with Alex.” Scott dead-stopped. Ok, that worked and it felt amazing to say out loud.

  “Did you just say...?”

  “I said I’m not in love with this freak out.”

  “Oh.” Scott squinted, one eye closed in concentration as though he couldn’t remember where he’d left his eye-patch. “Sorry, I’m a little revved up.”

  “Tell me what I need to do, but make it practical. It’s not like I have a big bag of tricks up my sleeve.”

  Scott sat, crossed his leg, and swung his booted foot, now more schoolboy than pirate. “Let me think.”

  Dan waited, anxiety curdling in his abdomen, like milk left out of the fridge too long in the February heat. He’d hoped the almost paralysing nervousness would have eased off, but that wasn’t the case. Seeing Scott have a minor meltdown wasn’t helping.

  He closed his eyes and saw Alex’s face that morning, swathed in big dark sunglasses, waiting for him stretched out on a towel just outside the reach of the waves as they met the shore. She’d licked the sea salt from his lips and sucked it from his mouth and it’d been all he could do not to give the junior sandcastle builder next to them a premature sex education lesson right there between the red and yellow flags.

  “I want you to dominate her.”

  Dan opened his eyes and gave Scott a ‘say what?’ look.

  “I want you to go out there and show her who’s boss.”

  “You’re kidding right? She’s the boss. I only have the slimmest idea what I’m doing out there.”

  “Not with this routine. You know it backwards. I want you to surprise her. Play the big man, make her work for you. Dominate her.”

  “Holy fuck.”

  “Come on. She’s been leading you around by the chin for months now. It’ll drive her insane and make her work just that little bit harder. It’ll give the audience a different dynamic from the one you showed them last time. No one will be expecting it.”

  “You can say that again. And when she tears the heart out of my chest and stomps on it, what then?”

  Scott was back on his peg leg now. “You’ll sort it out.”

  “Scott!”

  “What do you think I am?” – Scott clomp-clicked to the door and answered his own question – “A relationship counsellor?” leaving Dan to shove his gear in a locker and follow.

  Half way down the dimly lit besser brick corridor to their team seating, Dan’s heart nearly did its own chest tearing. Alex was waiting for him.

  She was Pinkie Tuscadero to his Arthur Fonzarelli, Suzie Quattro to his Jim Morrison. She wore a skin tight black cat suit with a dangerously low neckline and a hot pink polka dot scarf tied at her neck. Her shoes matched her scarf, pink and white with heels so high it changed their height dynamic. With her hair teased, big hoop earrings, and the bubble she blew as he drew level, she had him slack-jawed with surprise and delight.

  She popped the bubble, slowly licked the gum back into her mouth, and drawled, “Hello, lover,” making Dan’s heart pull lose from its fibrous moorings and cartwheel in his chest cavity.

  He played his part, backing her up against the wall and pinning her there with a hand either side of her shoulders. He stood as close as he could without touching her, except with his eyes which he let travel slowly over every plane of her face, the column of her neck, the curve of her breasts, her high ribcage, narrow waist, and slender hips. She was breathing heavily by the time he finished his visual assault, so he started on a more physical version, one arm circling her waist, his hand closing over the arc of her backside and dragging her hips into his, crushing her shiny lycra into his black leather.

  When she was fully aware of what the outcome of this little game would be if they weren’t expected on stage, he said, “You look guilty as sin,” then kissed the laugh off her mouth and stole her gum.

  It was with heavy-footed reluctance that Dan let Alex lead him, down the corridor. They passed another couple of male dancers including Ferdy. He clocked a smirk from Ferdy that said, ‘let’s see how you cope this week amateur’, and a round of hearty male laughter that increased his unease chased them out into the arena.

  The open competition was in full swing as they sat between Mitch and Fluke, dancers in front of them being eliminated by shoulder-tapping judges roaming the floor. Dan saw both Cooper and Collin avoid the sudden death tap and remain in the competition for another round, but another six couples were eliminated. He still had trouble understanding why.

  On his left, Fluke said, “Who are you supposed to be?” and there was nothing sarky in his manner, but he was still Fluke and he was going after his pound of flesh.

  “I’m the bloke who’s going to pound you to dust if you don’t lay off trying to make me feel more stupid than I already do.” He tugged at the turned up collar of his leather jacket, tough guy style, but he spoiled the menace of his words by laughing at himself, taking the group with him.

  “It’s buzzy in here,” said Mitch. “And if I’m not wrong there are chicks trying to get your attention, Dan.”

  “He’s right,” said Fluke. “Those two by the camera stack.”

  Dan located the scaffold that the videographers were using to take aerial shot of the floor and sure enough he got waved at. That was the second lot of women he’d seen giving him the eye since he’d sat down.

  “No idea.” He shrugged and reached for Alex’s hand, but she was busy painting her lips. It made him grin to realise she’d left the lipstick off before now, planning on being kissed in the corridor.

  “You’ve got groupies, fantastic! That’s great for us.” She laughed and pouted luscious pink lips at him.

  “It is?”

  Now she took his hand. “It’s not a popularity contest, but it doesn’t hurt.”

  Dan grunted in response, but Fluke said, “Fair dinkum, dressed like some thin Elvis throwback with grease in his hair, he still pulls the chicks!” and even Gwen laughed at that.

  Scott however was not laughing. He was huddled with Trevor, facing down a mutiny of text messages. Dan was keen to get his attention; the dominating thing wasn’t on. This was Alex’s area of expertise; if she was leading him round by the chin then that was only right. Besides, he was more comfortable dancing as they’d rehearsed. This whole thing was risky enough sailing without asking him to take command of the ship.

  When Barry Barton announced the start of the main event and called out the running order for the couples, slotting Dan and Alex in the middle of the pack, Scott was on his feet. He gestured to Dan. “I don’t want you watching this. Come with me.”

  Dan gave Alex’s hand a squeeze and followed Scott out into the corridor, glad for the chance to catch him alone.

  “We need to talk,” Scott barked and Dan caught an edge of anger in his voice.

  “I can’t get with your new plan. I just want to do it as we rehearsed it.”

  “You need to see this before you decide.” Scott handed over his phone. “Play that.”

  Dan thumbed the screen and started a video: he and Alex in the corridor, as close to doing something illegal in a public place as they could get. This was up close, way personal, and specifically not a family show.

  “Where did
you get this?” He’d been sure there was no one in the corridor. He’d have been more careful where he put his hands, lips, and hips if he’d have known they had an audience.

  “It was sent anonymously. It’s gone viral.”

  That accounted for the waving and the kiss-blowing that he’d pretended not to see. “Fuck.”

  “That’s certainly what it looks like. I leave you alone for five minutes,” huffed Scott.

  “We have to show Alex.”

  “No, not yet. She’ll be mortified. That’s what whoever did this is aiming for. Gwen’s hidden her phone. It’s better that she doesn’t know til after your performance.”

  “Ferdy. He was coming past as we were leaving. He could have taken this.”

  “Fuck,” echoed Scott, his cool entirely blown. “It’s something he’d do to embarrass Alex and throw you.”

  “Well it worked.” Dan expelled a long irritated stream of air. “Why did you show me?”

  “Because I want revenge and you can deliver it.”

  “Me?”

  “Look, the whole arena is expecting you two to be all over each other. We need to surprise them, give them something new to think about. Use this to our advantage. If we pull this off, you’ll be the couple to watch for the rest of the competition and I can waltz in and capture the castle.”

  “But surely the judges haven’t seen this?”

  “Trevor checked. They’ve seen it. There isn’t a person here who hasn’t.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Not really our word for the moment, if you catch my drift.”

  Dan bounced his fist against the rough wall, wished it was Ferdy’s head. “What do you want me to do?”

  45. Tiff

  Alex was surprised at the palpable ripple of excitement that accompanied her and Dan as they made their way out onto the floor for their performance, but there was no time to examine it. Dan had her hand tight in his and when she went to take her position he refused to let go. She had to tug her hand away. God, he was nervous.

 

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