“Really?” I didn’t blame the note of teasing scepticism in his voice.
I snorted. “No, but I’ll do my best. Tell me more about her.”
He chuckled. “Fine. Look, I don’t know, okay? It feels fucking too much like having my own kid for comfort, you know?”
“Not really.”
“I thought you were going to be helpful?”
“I don’t think that was part of the deal, Lombardi.”
“Fair point,” he conceded then sighed heavily.
“How’s your mum handling it?”
“Not well. She pretty much leaves it to me.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Eh, there’s only so much she can do while she’s working to support the three of us. Maddy’s all right really. I just need a break sometimes, you know?”
There was something about lying in the dark on the shore of the lake that made it easy to forget this was the Roman I’d known for years. It didn’t feel weird airing dirty laundry or listening to him talk about things I knew he’d never say any other time. Hell, I doubted I’d ever listen any other time.
“Barlow?”
“Lombardi?”
“What are you doing out here?”
I sighed. “Like you said, peace and quiet.”
“You okay?”
There was something in the way he asked that that was nothing like the way other people asked it. It was at the same time a totally off-hand comment, but also an incredibly sincere question; like he was genuinely happy to listen, but also respected I might not want to answer. It took me off-guard for a second.
But again, that lying in the dark on the lakeshore, just the two of us, gave me a sense of security. There was a sense of trust that caused conflict in me. This was Roman, the guy who sneered at everyone, the guy who even traded punches with his closest friend. So when I opened my mouth and I found the truth coming out, I prayed I wasn’t making a terrible mistake.
“Are you ever surrounded by people and you still feel alone?”
“Huh…” He paused. “I’ve never really thought about it. Why? Do you?”
I stared at the stars, glad we weren’t looking at each other. “More often than I used to.”
He was silent a while and I thought he was going to say something rude or teasing, something typically Roman. But, he surprised me.
“Is that why you bailed on the party tonight?”
I took a deep breath. “Sometimes it’s easier to be alone without a whole bunch of people around. You know? Less effort.”
“Less effort how?” he asked, like he was genuinely interested and something twitched in me.
“I don’t know. Like I don’t have to pretend everything’s okay. It gets tiring after a while.”
“So, don’t pretend.”
I scoffed and sat up. “Yeah, because people would accept that Piper Barlow had issues.”
“What does that make me, then?”
I looked back down at him and saw him staring at me intently, like he was actually listening, like maybe he actually cared. Who would have thought that Roman Lombardi was capable of sympathy? My chest did that flutter thing again and I felt like my whole brain was turning itself inside out as it tried to decide if it needed to change its mind about him or not.
“Just because you haven’t actually voiced your disbelief out loud, doesn’t mean you don’t think I’m whining unnecessarily. I’m just waiting for the African orphan speech. Hell, you’ve got real issues with your niece. What right do I have to complain I feel a little down or a little alone sometimes?”
He snorted. “Firstly, that’s bullshit.” He sat up and his shoulder accidentally bumped mine. “No one else’s experiences should invalidate your own feelings, Barlow.”
“I have no reason for it–”
“So what? Feelings don’t listen to reason. I am perfectly happy to accept Piper Barlow has issues and if you want to sit here and not talk about it, fine. You want to talk about it, fine. Let’s just share the peace and quiet and feel a little less alone together.”
I turned to look at him and found him looking out over the lake.
“You’re perfectly happy to accept Piper Barlow has issues?” I asked slowly, trying to stay serious.
A slight grin spread across his face, but he nodded solemnly. “Yes. I’m very understanding that way.”
“About my having issues?”
He still didn’t look at me and that smile looked harder to fight. “Yes.”
I looked over the lake as well and laughed. “Of course you are.”
He skipped another stone and we sat together in companionable silence for a while longer.
Roman leant his elbows on his knees and stared at the lake. I kept sneaking looks at him, wondering if there was more to the enigma than everyone thought. Surely not. Surely the mysterious, arrogant, brooding Roman didn’t have any hidden depths. I’d known him almost half my life just like I’d known most of the people my age in town – when you had one school to go to, you got to know people – and he’d never given me any reason to think he was anything more than what he seemed.
I jumped as my phone went off and I dragged my eyes from Roman’s profile as I pulled it out of my pocket. It was a string of messages from Hadley; expressing her boredom, complaining about old people being old, telling me what she ate for dinner, that there’d been a hot guy at the petrol station outside Ballarat… The list went on and I figured she must have been super bored – or maybe only just found decent internet again – to be sending it all at once.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before I just put my phone on silent and slid it back into my pocket.
“Don’t let me keep you, Barlow,” Roman said, his tone teasing like he assumed my phone was buzzing with steamy booty calls. I doubted he actually believed it though.
“It’s just Hadley.”
“Ah. And, what is Miss Reynolds up to tonight? Or should I ask who?”
I hid a smile as I rearranged my legs and looked at my hands in my lap. “She and her parents drove to Melbourne today to see her grandparents.”
“So, her night will not compare to ours then.” His tone was completely matter-of-fact, no hint of sarcasm.
I snorted. “I think even she would prefer to sit on a cold lakeshore with you than be stuck at her grandparents’ house.”
He looked at me sharply. “You’re cold?”
I shrugged. “Not really.” Although, the way I burrowed into my jumper probably didn’t help convince him. It was as much the unfamiliar concern in his voice as the slight chill that had me burrowing, though.
“You can have my jacket.” He started pulling it off and I put a hand on his arm to stop him, trying not to take it personally that maybe there was a sweet side to him.
“I’m fine, Lombardi. But, thanks.”
His arms were still up, mid shuck. “You sure?”
I nodded. “You give me your jacket and I’ll be overheating and you’ll be freezing and I’ll feel guilty.”
He dropped his arms with a shrug. “Well. Can’t have that.”
“No.”
“Much better that I’m comfortable and you’re cold.”
“I’m only a little cold. I’m fine.”
“I’ll tell you a secret, Barlow. I’m a little cold, too. So, I’m bloody glad you didn’t take me up on it.”
I scoffed. “Oh, was that you being a gentleman again?”
He rifled in his pockets and was then lighting a cigarette. “Can’t be. I’m not a gentleman, remember?”
“I remember a lot of things about you.”
He chuckled as he blew smoke straight up and leant back on one hand. “Yeah, like what?”
I grinned as something hit me. “I remember the time in Year Four when Katie Morris kissed you on the playground and you cried.”
He spluttered smoke, sat up straighter and looked at me. “I what?”<
br />
“You cried and ran to Miss… Oh, what was her name?” I sighed in frustration.
“Miss Davies,” he replied as though I’d asked him for the time.
“Ha! So you do remember.”
He took another drag. “Not at all. I do not at all remember my first kiss on the playground and burying my face in Miss Davies skirts because I was petrified of girl cooties. No idea what you’re talking about, Barlow.”
I nodded. “Of course not.”
“Had that happened, it still would not have been as embarrassing as the time you and Hadley did that God awful dance routine in Year Five.” As he said it, I totally remembered it and a loud bark of laughter escaped me. That didn’t deter him though. “I swear, I still have nightmares about it. The colours, the total cheesiness, not to mention the hair. What nancy arse band did you decide you were going to dance with?”
“Big Time Rush,” I sniggered; we’d had costumes and everything and it had been…plainly awful. “We were going to go to the US and be their backup dancers, be on the show and be super famous.”
“Shame about the fact you couldn’t sing or dance.”
I snorted again and buried my face in my knees. When I finally resurfaced, I saw him looking at me with humour playing at his lips.
“The point was we were having fun. Besides, you can accomplish anything with your best friend beside you.”
“Ah, yes. The infamously inseparable duo of Piper and Hadley. Padley if you will. Or, perhaps Hadler?”
A completely undignified laugh escaped me and I leant on his arm as I laughed. “Not funny.”
“Your guffawing would suggest otherwise.”
I sat up and looked at him with my best stern face. But, the humour on his set me off again and he gave me a crooked smirk.
“So if Hadley wasn’t in Melbourne, what would you two be up to tonight?” he asked as he looked back over the lake.
My smile fell and I dropped back onto the blanket. “She’d be at the party and I’d still be here.”
He rearranged and lay down next to me. “You still wouldn’t have gone?”
I shrugged and felt my shoulder bump his. “I doubt it. Put in one appearance, it’s all good.”
“And she would have just let you sit here alone, being lonely?”
I wriggled and found myself being honest again. “She wouldn’t have had any reason not to go.”
There was a very pregnant pause in which I could almost hear him thinking. “She doesn’t know.”
I breathed out heavily, rethinking the sense in being completely honest with him. “About what?”
I felt him laugh. “Oh no, you can’t play that card now, Barlow. We’re baring our souls here tonight.”
I felt myself smile, even though I didn’t know why I’d have any reason to feel happy about that. “Fine. No, she doesn’t know I get a little…”
“Funky?” he offered with a slight tease to his voice.
I nudged him and he nudged me back. “Yeah. Funky.”
“Why not?”
I looked up at the stars and wondered about that. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t want to worry her. I don’t think she’ll understand. I don’t really want to have to explain myself to her when she doesn’t get it but tries to. The idea of talking to her about it is almost more stressful than the feeling.”
“Huh. I guess that makes sense.”
“You either don’t actually want to listen to my issues, or you don’t need to ask about them because you already understand…” I petered off, waiting for him to pick up the thread of conversation.
“Could it be Barlow, that I do want to listen – that I understand just enough to sympathise – but that I also just don’t want to push you further than you’re willing to go?” he asked slowly, like he wasn’t sure himself.
It felt like we were straying into far too serious territory, so I scoffed. “I doubt it. I’d say you were just bored.”
“That must be it, then,” he replied.
I heard the smile in his voice. It was much like his answer when we’d both known he’d fallen off his board to make me feel better the other day, but neither of us had seemed willing to admit it.
We lay and looked at the stars, chatting a little or just being until I decided I’d lain on the lakeshore with an undesirable companion for long enough.
Although, how undesirable was he now? I’d seen a whole new side of him that night, I’d felt a whole new comfort with him I never would have believed possible. I still wasn’t sure if was advisable, but there was something about it that intrigued me. But intrigued or not, I refused to let myself hang out with him for too long.
Roman offered to drive me back up to the house and I let him. He gave me a gorgeously sincere smile before I climbed out of his car and I went inside to deal with the no doubt barrage of messages from Hadley.
Chapter Six
Uncompliments and Appropriate Fondling.
I was completely convinced that Roman wasn’t going to be the kind of guy to mope two nights in a row. He didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d let the consequences of sex get in the way for long. So I felt it was safe to wander down to the lake again on Sunday night, ready to have a mope on my own.
So of course, I was wrong.
Because anything you expect Roman Lombardi to do, you should really expect he’ll do the opposite. His character may have been pretty consistent – until recently – but his behaviour was erratic. He had a speaker sitting on the shore a little behind him playing Nirvana and he stood skimming stones.
I watched him for a while, as his body turned and his arm flicked across his chest. He was wearing dark jeans and a hoody under his jacket, and I did take a minute to appreciate how nice his silhouette was. He leant his hands on his head when he ran out of stones and stared out at the lake like it had the answers to all his troubles, and it looked like he was feeling pretty troubled. Suddenly, my issues seemed insignificant.
I debated whether I wanted to run back up to my house and avoid him or see if I could find that weird sense of comfort around him again. It was decided for me when he turned as he went to pick up another stone and I swear he jumped.
“Fuck, Barlow!” he chuckled self-consciously.
“Hi.” Why did I wave? Who knows? “Is this a private pity party, or can anyone join?”
He smirked a little, but something about his posture made him look really tense. “Depends. How are your issues on this fine night?” He sounded forcibly upbeat as he bent over and picked up a few more stones.
I smiled a little awkwardly and looked at my shoes while I spoke. “They’re…issues. How’s the niece?”
“She went to bed before she passed out from exhaustion tonight. So, that’s something,” he answered, looking at the stone he juggled. He sounded like he might pass out from exhaustion at any point.
I both liked and didn’t like seeing him differently.
I nodded and stepped up beside him as he went back to skimming. “Yay,” I offered somewhat weakly.
He huffed a laugh. “Yeah.”
I spread my blanket out and sat down. He juggled that one last stone as he dropped beside me. We sat, not talking, and the music washed over us. I only vaguely recognised half the songs that played, but I didn’t mind; they all seemed to mirror our moods perfectly. I could feel the tension radiating off him as he had a smoke and I wondered what vibe he got from me. But as we sat there, breathing became easier.
And sitting there, I realised I was glad he’d been there.
With Roman, even not talking, I didn’t feel quite so alone. Like those times we walked home, it was almost like he just knew when I just needed to sit and be and he was perfectly happy to sit and be with me. I didn’t know if he was feeling it, but I felt completely comfortable in a way I almost never did.
Not with Hadley, who always exuded anticipation or nervous energy. Not with my parents, around who I felt like I al
ways had to be switched on to bubbly so they didn’t worry. Not with Celeste, who always opened her mouth when there was a split second of silence.
I didn’t feel the need to fill the void, to prepare for whatever crazy thing might come next, or pretend I was fine. I could relax, be myself, breathe easy. All the tension faded away.
It was both concerning and exciting.
During a song that I thought I recognised as Muse, he started singing softly, his hand running through his hair.
“You’ve got a nice voice,” I said, both of us just staring at the lake.
He lay down and I followed suit.
“I didn’t picture you as a singer.”
He laughed, but it was still tense and humourless. “I don’t tend to bring it out at school, true.”
I smiled to myself. “You’re different.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, at school you’re all cool–”
“Aw, you think I’m cool?” he teased.
“Shut up,” I replied with humour. “You’re all cool and confident, and…” I was distracted as I caught the lyrics of the new song. “Sorry, is that guy singing about punani?”
He shook with silent laughter. “Yeah.”
It was some kind of techno thing. “Huh. It’s catchy.”
He snorted and nudged me. “I’ll teach you all the words later. Come on, you were telling me how great I am.”
I scoffed. “Sure. No. But you… I don’t know. I just didn’t picture you outside that charming, cocky, with-it persona.”
“Yeah, because you’re nothing like that at school,” he said sarcastically.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I felt him shrug. “Because you’re totally not the popular, cool girl with the perfect hair, the perfect grades, the perfect family, the perfect everything.” He said it like fact; not judgemental, just fact.
I sighed. “Yeah, but am I really?”
“Well, no,” he answered as though it was obvious. “Because you’re more than just some teenage jerkoff’s wet dream. Only just mind,” he amended and I bumped him even though I was sure he was fifty percent teasing. He burst into laughter. “What?”
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