Make Me Believe

by Karen Ferry

An hour has passed, and the lack of sleep is starting to get to me. The headache hasn’t returned, thankfully, but I really need a break.

  “Do you mind if we take a breather for ten minutes?” I ask Daniel.

  “Not at all,” he answers and closes his book, but not before marking the page with a post-it. Stretching, he yawns, and I can’t keep my eyes from admiring his arms and the veins that are slightly visible there.

  Good lord . . . never knew those could be such a turn-on . . .

  I snap out of it when Daniels asks me, “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?”

  Shaking my head, I stand up. “Not at all.”

  We both walk inside and I grab my clutch I tossed on my couch to get my phone to check if I have any messages. I didn’t want to be rude seeing as Daniel is here, and I have a job to do, so I set it to silent when we got back from the bookshop.

  “I won’t be long,” Daniel says from behind me, but I don’t answer. A chill runs through me when I see that I have three missed calls -- and all from my brother, Steven.

  Ugh. There goes my good mood for the day.

  As I stand there, holding my phone, and contemplating whether or not to just ignore him, karma seems to be out to get me, because as soon as the thought of forgetting that I ever saw his missed calls sets in, my phone rings.

  Closing my eyes briefly, I swipe the screen and put the phone to my ear.

  “Hello,” I say, and even my voice doesn’t sound right: it’s weak, not strong. And I can’t have him sensing that.

  “Hello? Who’s this?” I hear coming from the other end, and my grip tightens painfully on my phone as I hear his voice.

  “Well, who do you think it is?” I ask Steven, relieved that some of my usual spunk has returned.

  “Emma,” he reproaches me. “Still your charming self, I hear.”

  “Hey, you rang me, brother dear, so why don’t you just get on with it?” I ask him, so pissed off by the condescending tone of voice that seems to be the only one he knows.

  “Temper, temper, Emma,” he goes on, and leaning my head back, I close my eyes as I wait for him to say what he wants. It must’ve been important since he rang three times the last hour.

  “Okay, so the reason I rang is to give you those dates when I’ll be in Copenhagen,” he then proceeds to tell me, and I frown.

  “I told you to just text them to me, Steven,” I tell him.

  “Yes, I know, but . . . ” For once, my brother hesitates, and it causes me to take notice. My brother never sounds like he does now.

  “But what?” I prompt him, feeling tension gathering in my neck from keeping my head back. Opening my eyes, I try to relax and not move too quickly, and when I turn around and see Daniel standing patiently in the doorway to my living room, I jump. I didn’t even hear him come out from the bathroom. I can’t quite figure out why he’s looking at me so puzzled.

  “Emma, I just wanted to hear your voice,” Steven says, pulling my attention back to our conversation. If you can even call it that.

  “Well, that’s . . . unusual,” I respond.

  Laughing nervously, he agrees, “True.”

  Silence descends between us, but I’m not going to be the bigger person here and try to fill it with some inane chit chat that none of us could give a flying fuck about.

  “So . . . How are you?” Steven asks me at last.

  “Good. Busy. You?” Some small, evil part inside me takes joy in being so abrupt with my big brother, but I don’t care.

  “Good, good . . . I’m the same,” he weakly responds.

  Becoming impatient, I say, “Look, Steven, I’m really busy at the moment, so will you please just text me those dates?”

  Clearing his throat, my brother asks me, “Why can’t you chat now?”

  Smiling deviously, I look deep into Daniel’s eyes as I reply, “Because I’m about to have wild monkey sex with my boyfriend, that’s why.”

  “Em!” Steven exclaims horrified at the same time Daniel laughs loudly, quickly covering his mouth with a hand, and I wink at him.

  “Why do you have to be so . . . so . . . crude?” Steven hisses in my ear, and I can’t keep the snort from erupting from my mouth.

  “Why do you have to be such a prude?” I counter his question with one of my own.

  Ignoring it, Stevens demands, “Who was that?”

  “My . . . boyfriend,” I answer slowly, as if I’m talking to a child who has no idea about the concept of a boyfriend.

  “You don’t have boyfriends,” Steven says suspiciously, and I roll my eyes even though he’s right.

  “Well, now I do. And you’ll be meeting him yourself when you get here.”

  “Is that really necessary?” he asks me, irritation oozing from his words.

  “Of course it is,” I answer, sounding all bubbly and excited even though I’m a nervous wreck on the inside. “It seems silly if you didn’t,” I continue, looking down at my bare feet, willing him to end the call sooner rather than later.

  “Hmm . . . you’re probably right,” Steven says quietly, and the change in him surprises me; my brother isn’t exactly known to agree with me.

  “Well, I’ll let you go, then,” he says.

  “Just text me those days and I’ll see if any of them works with Daniel,” I say.

  “I’ll do that,” he says briskly. “Goodbye.”

  “Bye,” I tell him, remove the phone from my ear and quickly press End Call. I toss it on my bed, run my hands through my hair, and when I’ve gathered it in a messy bun on the top of my head, I inhale deeply and let myself settle. I handled that phone call better than I thought I would, actually, but I can’t say I enjoyed it much. And why did he act so peculiar? Strange...

  “Wild monkey sex?” Daniel’s voice interrupts my thoughts, and I look at him. He hasn’t moved, but there’s a delightful blush rising on his neck now.

  Letting my hair fall down my back, I shrug and smile. “I had to say something to get rid of him,” I explain. “Besides, now he knows I won’t be meeting him alone.”

  Daniel nods once, uncrosses his arms and walk towards me. “It a little strange hearing you speak English,” he says, stopping very close to me.

  “Oh?” I’m surprised. “In what way?” Preventing my fingers from reaching out to touch his stubble -- it looks so soft and inviting -- I cross my arms.

  He shrugs. “Just different, I guess. Actually,” he chuckles, “you sounded so proper, yet it seems you’ve also picked up a bit of a Danish accent while you’ve lived here.”

  Smiling crookedly, I answer, “I suppose you’re right . . . about the last bit, I mean. My Nan always says that to me when we’re chatting on the phone. But I guess it’s inevitable when I don’t really speak my native language much.”

  His eyes light up with humour. “Maybe we’re rubbing off on you and you’ll end up deciding to stay here on a more permanent basis.”

  Shaking my head, I uncross my arms and move past him. “I doubt that.” In need of water, I walk to my kitchen, leaving Daniel in my living room.

  “Never say never,” he yells behind me, making me pull my lip ring and suck on it for a bit. As I release it, I yell back, “True, but no need to get into that today.”

  Turning on the tap, I pick up a glass and quickly fill before guzzling it down in one go.

  “I’m sorry that our break was so long,” I say and turn around, only to find Daniel right behind me now.

  “What are you, a cat?” I ask him, surprised I didn’t hear him come in.

  He grins. “I’m not wearing any shoes, you know. It’s not my fault your hearing is so bad.”

  Narrowing my eyes at his cheeky response, I poke a finger in his chest. “You, Sir, need to mind your manners.”

  “Oh, really?” he retorts. “Like you just did while on the phone with your brother?” His grin widens and I have no answer for that.

  “Well,” I huff, placing my hands on my hips. “That was different.”

  Now he�
��s full on laughing and although the sound is so very pleasant, we need to get back to work.

  “Are you done?” I ask him, raising an eyebrow, and his laughter dies down. Seeing the twinkle in his eyes, the warmth mingled with humour, can’t make me stay annoyed for long, though.

  He opens his mouth, no doubt to answer, and then I hear a rattling sound coming from my front door. Turning our heads at the same time, we watch as my best friend enters my flat.

  “Men are pigs!” Suzy shouts, looking mad as a hatter, and she slams the door shut.

  Oh dear . . .

  Chapter 22

  The minute Suzy sees us standing right in front of her, she stops . . . and stares. Neither of us says a word for a few moments, and when I notice the tears on Suzy’s cheeks, my protective instincts kick into gear.

  “Not that I don’t disagree, sweetie, but what happened to make you barge in like a mad woman? What’s wrong?”

  Hastily drying her cheeks, she waves me off and walks closer, her hand outstretched towards Daniel.

  “We can talk about all that later,” she says, a small smile now grazing her lips. “Hi, I’m Suzanne,” she greets my clearly uncomfortable neighbour. “You must be Daniel.”

  “I am,” he replies, and they shake hands. “How do you know my name?”

  Tucking her hair behind her ear, she says, “Oh, Emma tells me everything . . . including that she has a new hunky neighbour.”

  Clearing his throat, Daniel takes a step closer to me. “Well, err . . . thanks, I guess.”

  “Oh, you’re more than welcome,” Suzy replies, a twinkle in her eyes.

  Briefly narrowing my own, but thinking that I can’t stop Suzy from being her usual flirtatious self when she sees something she fancies, I turn to Daniel and apologise, “I’m sorry, Daniel, but can you give us a few minutes alone?”

  Shrugging, he says, “No problem,” and he walks briskly outside and closes the balcony door behind him. I wait until I watch him sit down, and then turn to Suzy.

  Grabbing her hand, I yank her with me and we take the few short steps into my kitchen.

  “What’s going on, hon?” I ask her and squeeze her hand.

  She huffs and rubs her forehead. “I’m sorry about just turning up like this, Emma, but I really needed a night with my best friend.” She crosses her arms and lean a hip against the kitchen counter. “And to answer your question: Thomas is a rat bastard! He just texted me, but I don’t think it was actually to me.” She uncrosses her arms and takes out her phone from the side pocket of her jacket. She pushes a few buttons and hands it to me.

  “Go on,” she says when I fail to take it from her immediately. “I don’t mind, just read it.”

  Tentatively doing as she tells me to, I look down and read the text:

  Thomas: I want you to fuck me in my arse while I suck off Alex’ cock, baby...

  A startled snort escapes me, and I bring a hand to my mouth. What . . . the . . . hell?

  “Obviously, we haven’t known each other for that long, so I texted him back, saying that I thought he was getting a bit ahead of himself but that I wouldn’t be opposed to some kinky sex if our relationship progressed,” Suzy explains and I hand her the phone and look at her, taking in her lopsided smile.

  “What did he text back?” I ask and turn to grab some tissues to wipe away her tears with.

  “Oh, he didn’t. In fact, he still hasn’t,” she replies, sniffling. “So, you know, I don’t think that text was to me.”

  Cautiously, I ask her, “Sweetie, don’t you think it’s too soon to be crying over this guy? I mean, like you just said; you’ve only just met him.”

  She dabs her eyes and sighs briefly. “I know, I know. You’re right, of course. But I had such a great time on our date . . . it just felt as if he completely got me. But now? Well, he can piss off.” Making herself at home, she takes a glass from the cupboard above the sink and turns on the tab, filling it with water.

  Pausing before she takes a sip, she muses, “It’s not as if I’m a prude, Em. I don’t mind the occasional backdoor action, but being the one to do it? And to a guy? Uh-uh, I can’t see myself doing that.”

  Mouth hanging open, I stare at her. TMI!

  Breaking free from my momentary lack of speech, I say sharply, “Suzy, that’s way too much information, even between friends.”

  Chuckling, she gives me a hug. “Oh, don’t be such a prude,” she scolds me affectionately. The conversation I just had with my brother fills my mind, and I cringe. Ugh.

  “Alright, never mind. Listen, I can ask Daniel to leave and then the two of us can open that bottle of wine I have chilling in the fridge.”

  “Good lord, I’d completely forgotten about him!” she exclaims and waggles her eyebrows playfully at me. “He is one fine specimen of a man. But why’s he here?” she whispers, looking puzzled.

  “You interrupted us in our first studying session,” I explain, and seeing her face fall, I quickly reassure her, “I don’t think we would have stayed at it for much longer, honey, and we were just taking a break when you came by.”

  “I’m sorry,” she says. She leans towards me and whispers conspiratorially, “Does he still make your belly flutter?”

  All the freaking time!

  “On occasion,” I reply vaguely and move to walk past her.

  Sighing dreamily, she ponders, “I wonder if those full lips of his are good at kissing . . . ?”

  “Suzy!” I snap, a flare of jealousy sparking in the pit of my stomach.

  “What?” she protests and places her now empty glass on the counter. “Just because he’s yours doesn’t mean I can’t look and appreciate what I see, Emma.”

  “He’s not mine,” I retort, but even I can hear the lie hidden in those few words.

  Suzy raises an eyebrow and searches my eyes for a few seconds. “Don’t lie to me,” she states emphatically. “He may not be yours yet, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t claimed him already.”

  “Claimed him?” Flabbergasted, I put a hand on my hip. “Don’t compare me with one of the heroines from those romance novels you love to read, Suzy.”

  “Don’t deny that you read them, too!” she replies, a smug smile spreading across her lips.

  Not having a quick comeback for that one, I quickly say, “Look, I can’t keep Daniel waiting any longer, so please...just stop, okay?”

  Hearing the quiet plea in my last words, her smile disappears and she nods briskly. “Of course.”

  “Thank you.”

  Leaving Suzy in the kitchen, I walk through my living room, open the door to the balcony, and apologise to Daniel.

  “I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting.”

  Looking up from his book, he smiles briefly. “It’s alright. I gather Suzy’s a close friend?”

  I nod. “She is. And she needs some girl time . . . ” My voice trails off and I look down at my fidgeting hands. I quickly place them behind my back and ask him, “I’m sorry, but I think we need to call it quits for today.”

  He grins. “From the way she walked in, shouting about men being pigs, I kind of already knew that, Em. I have four sisters.”

  Whoa . . . I didn’t know that.

  He closes the book and starts to sort out his notes on the table. “I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

  “I’m really sorry,” I say quietly, but he just shakes his head.

  “To tell the truth, I don’t think I could’ve handled more today.” He smiles apologetically at me, and it’s not hard to notice his tired eyes.

  “Tomorrow’s a new day,” I reply quietly, and then hurry on, “I hope you’re satisfied with my tutoring skills? I want you to be happy . . . ”

  Winking at me, he stands up. “Oh, I am.” He looks at his watch before we both leave the balcony and walk inside my flat.

  “I need to get to the supermarket and grab a few things for dinner, anyway,” Daniel says from behind me.

  “Well, at least the shops don’t close until la
te,” Suzy responds from her seat on my couch. Smiling friendly at Daniel, she continues, “Welcome to the big city, Daniel.”

  “Thanks,” he says, and as he moves past me to walk to my front door, Suzy cranes her head, checking out his arse. My steps falter and I shake my head affectionately when she gives me the thumps-up and winks at me.

  Daniel’s voice makes me turn my head and concentrate on him again. “Well, I’ll talk to you later, Emma.” Giving Suzy a chin lift, he tells her, “It was nice to meet you.”

  “Oh, the pleasure is all mine,” she sings.

  “Bye, Daniel. Have a good night,” I say, and he’s gone.

  Locking the door, I can’t help but notice that his scent lingers, causing a shiver in my body. Holy heck . . . what’s happening to me?

  Mentally giving myself a good talking-to, I look at Suzy who, still beaming at me, is taking off her jacket.

  “I think I need that wine more than you do,” I murmur and she laughs.

  “Maybe. You get the wine, and then I’ll order some food for us. Pasta sounds good?” she asks me and pulls out her phone.

  “Perfect,” I respond and I leave her to do as she says.

  “We need a gay best friend in our lives,” Suzy says from beside me.

  Pausing with my drink halfway to my mouth, I ask her, “What?”

  “You know,” she explains, taking a sip of wine. “Someone who’ll satisfy our curiosity about men and the inner workings of their minds, but one who’ll be beyond excited about shopping for shoes as well.” Seemingly satisfied with her own logic, she nods at me.

  Frowning, I take a large gulp of wine, enjoying the buzz currently coursing through my body.

  “Hmm . . . ,” I muse, thinking.

  “I say we get one,” she persists, and it causes me to snort loudly.

  “Suzy, darling,” I say, “we’re not talking about a dog here! We can’t just go out and get a gay man, as if he’s someone we can buy, you know.”

  Crossing her arms, she leans back in her seat and grins at me. “You’ll see . . . just leave it to me.”

  I shake my head at her silliness, and we’re both quiet for a while, drinking in the sunset and listening to the French music crooning from Daniel’s flat. His windows must be open, and although it’s not exactly the kind I usually listen to, it relaxes me. My one bottle of Frascati was replaced by another one by the time our takeaway dinner arrived, and I think it is fair to say that we are both feeling the effects of it now. But I’m probably worse off than her. I need to have sex soon.