Entwine

by Rebecca Berto

  She pulled the prints out the second the machine spat them from the slot and frowned, as she handed them to him. “They’ll get creased in my bag. There is so much in there, and I don’t want these ruined. Even my purse is an old, tattered mess.”

  He tucked them away in his wallet. “Okay, come on. It’s almost midnight. Let’s go see the flames light up.”

  Sarah kept shaking her head every time Malik tried to convince her it was midnight, but once the towers started lighting up, her mouth gaped and she said, “They’re so big and hot, and it must be midnight!”

  Sarah loved every second of standing there, watching the flames light up in sequences. She watched each tower catch afire, the ember casting high in the sky before it quickly disappeared. She waited until the show came back around to the tower near them.

  It was her favourite bit. With Malik behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist, and his chin rested on the top of her head, it made her feel warm and cosy. She loved the physical heat and warmth Malik created in her when, on the outside, she was cold from the night.

  It was only when the flame disappeared that she felt his erection poking between her bum cheeks. She stilled, and knew he knew that she’d realised. Fearing he’d move in case it wasn’t appropriate, she shuffled slightly back into him and pressed herself harder against him. Even though there was music and chatter and bustle around them, she heard his groan, felt the rumble from his chest against her back, and revelled at how the feeling travelled through her.

  Sarah dipped her head back, allowing access and he came down, kissing lightly up her ear and breathing down her neck, making the need to reach orgasm at his hands merely a torturous wish out here in public.

  “You’ve missed it two times now,” he whispered in her ear.

  He could have been whispering instructions to start a lawn mower for all she cared. The tone to his voice was one that she had already linked to a sexual charge between her legs and, with his erection pressed against her ass, she was more than willing to find a place to let him in. She wanted it so badly now.

  “Missed what?” she said.

  “Your phone. It’s gone off twice now.”

  Sarah jumped back, searching through her bag. Head still down, she replied, “Oh, I didn’t even hear it. I was distracted.”

  She texted her mum that she was just on her way home now, and begrudgingly looked up at Malik.

  “Ready to go?”

  No, she wanted to say. But that would make no sense, so she said, “Let’s go.”

  Sarah had never wanted time to slow as much as she did when they were walking back to his car. She just wanted to pull them both back and say, “Stuff work! We’ll just stay at Crown all night.”

  They got to his car, and eaten up by anxiety, she decided she’d at least get him to open up about himself again. She needed details. For the first time that night, she wondered if maybe he’d let her go without asking for her number.

  “So, you never told me your age.”

  “Are you looking for an excuse to run?”

  “No!” Sarah laughed. “You’re underestimating how attracted to you I am.”

  Yes, she said that.

  “Most people are surprised when they hear it,” was his reply.

  “Great, will you allow me that honour?”

  He shook his head, but she could see he was laughing at her interest. He started the car, and reversed out, turning the wheel with one hand and the other half hanging out of the window. He turned back to her with a serious face on. “Thirty-four.”

  “Ah, okay.”

  She didn’t want to say anything else. Should she be turned off? She already knew he was all man, no boy. Someone blind would know that, just by being in his presence. She had to give herself a minute to calm down. For some reason, the thought turned her on. She wanted a man who knew what he was doing. Malik, with all the years of acquired experience to become who he was now, made her yearn for him. Just thinking about it conjured images in her mind.

  “Too old, huh?”

  “Nope, I’m just thinking.”

  “About …”

  “How I should think that maybe you’re too old for me.”

  Stopped at a line at the exit to the car park, Malik turned to her. His eyes were lit up with desire. Since she couldn’t jump on top of him right then, she held out her hand and he took it—and the whole way home she was too scared to say anything else.

  For many minutes he held her hand, and didn’t let go. He’d hold the wheel with his knees and change gears with his free hand when he had to. Around corners, he used that trick again where he only used one hand to turn. Sarah was embarrassed that her panties were a bit damp after checking out every part of him.

  When she directed him to her house, she told him to park on the side of the road. Malik got out and opened the door for her, and she had a stupid big grin on her face that she couldn’t wipe, even after he’d pecked a kiss on her mouth awkwardly.

  “It’s actually a few houses down,” Sarah admitted, looking away, flushed. Did he think she was silly, or did he get why she’d not want for them to be seen saying goodbye in front of her house?

  “Mm,” Malik moaned. He looked into her eyes and asked, “Can I have your number?”

  It happened. She actually had a chance of having some sort of relationship with him. As she typed out the digits, she was glad how things had turned out. No sex, no heavy making out. She’d done a good job at interesting him without giving up everything.

  They exchanged numbers, and as Sarah was digging her phone back in her bag, he surprised her by grabbing her waist and pushing her up onto his car bonnet. She sucked in a breath and looked from his open lips down his shirt buttons that led to his pants. It was then she had to close her eyes.

  Soft, smooth. She felt his lips on her neck. Eyes still shut, she tilted her head up, allowing him better access, and opened her legs wide, so he could stand up against her and his car. Hands on her waist, he leaned far in so his body was flush against hers and the car, and she wrapped her heels around his calves.

  He started trailing kisses down her neck and chest, so she leant back. He was undoing her in every way, even if he didn’t know it. By the time he’d placed his last kiss, he was only an inch away from sucking her nipple, and her lack of strength had left her lain back over the bonnet.

  Malik pulled her up with his hands around the back of her ribs, and she clung to the last hope she could, purposely bending in to his hard erection, which she felt longer than before, as he slid her down his body to the grass nature strip.

  “Need … need to. To go,” he moaned, his lips biting at her neck. “Shit, right. Let me walk you to your door.”

  “O … okay,” she stuttered. At least she didn’t feel bad, knowing he was horny and lost for words too.

  She stopped him halfway through walking down the sidewalk in front of her next-door neighbour’s house. She looked to her mobile; it said 12.50 am. Her mum could easily be up in the front lounge room, peering out waiting, or in bed, looking out the window for the sight of her.

  “Wait,” Sarah said, hand clutching Malik’s bicep. It barely made it around his circumference. “I’m just next door. Best to say bye here.”

  They shared a gaze, and she didn’t want to say anything, or for him to, either. No, no, no. Why did she have to work? Adrenaline would keep her up and going, despite the fact she’d only get four and a half hours sleep. Why couldn’t they just stay hanging out for even an hour longer?

  It. Wasn’t. Enough.

  Malik slipped both hands around her shoulders and cupped the back of her neck while gazing at her. “Trust me when I say tonight couldn’t have gone better than it did. I wouldn’t have changed a thing.”

  He didn’t say bye as he waited for her to leave. Rather, he said, “Don’t worry, I’ll be calling.”

  She nodded furiously, blew a kiss to him and walked back to her door. Two things happened at the same time: he finally got in his ca
r and drove by, at the same time as her mum came out and saw the stupid smile on Sarah’s face, and Malik waving as he drove away.

  “Who was he?” her mum asked.

  “A friend.”

  “Does your friend have a name?”

  “Malik.”

  “Malik,” her mum repeated. Her tone wasn’t playful. If anything, she seemed unimpressed. What wasn’t honourable about that? He was a complete gentleman, judging by what her mum could have seen. Especially since he’d driven her home.

  “Something wrong with him?” Sarah asked.

  “Not really. What did he drive?”

  “Drive …” Sarah’s mind rustled for the details. She remembered soon enough. “Um, a black XR6 Turbo, why?”

  “Huh,” her mum said, and walked up the stairs and disappeared, not finishing with anything of more substance.

  Sarah lay in bed that night, thinking how weird that was, until she got a text at 1.10 am with a few words: “Miss you already. xx”

  Then she slept.

  CRUMBLE

  THEN

  Within two weeks, her dad was kicked out and renting. Sarah knew he was to blame for breaking up her family, and he knew it, too. The man didn’t fight back when her mum confronted him and, though he’d slump over his suitcases and mope around from cardboard box to closet, he didn’t grumble about having to pack, either.

  He didn’t fight to get her mum back, and Sarah watched hour after hour, day after day, watching him pack up not only his belongings, but part of the life she loved. He sealed it up for good. She didn’t want to have her world pulled out from under her, but she was sixteen, and having to learn a new way of life.

  But why didn’t he fight? Sarah would never shut up and let something happen that she didn’t want to. She knew her family couldn’t be a normal, nuclear unit anymore, but didn’t he want to try? Sarah had fought before: for friends, for grades, for an expensive dress. She wondered, during the days her father packed up, why the hell he didn’t fight for his daughter, or for Sarah’s mum to love him again.

  Was he glad it was all over?

  After thinking that, Sarah decided to give up too, and along with the numb feeling came peace, at a price.

  The afternoon that her dad was leaving, she caught him on a trip to his car boot with a box hugged to his chest.

  “Dad!” she called from the front door.

  He stopped and Sarah jogged up to him, followed him to the boot where he placed the box in a corner with the others already in there. It occurred to Sarah that he hadn’t had a proper chat to her. At what point was he going to stop and talk things through? Would she see him again? Surely. But Sarah needed to know. Would it be every second weekend, like how a girlfriend from school saw her daddy? Sarah assumed that couldn’t happen to her. Who would her dad be? Not immediate family, no, more like a distant relative.

  “Can we chat?”

  Her dad was about to open the passenger-side door but he halted, spun to face her, and nodded to their backyard. There, Sarah and her dad sat on the usual rusted bench. It had been in the backyard for as long as Sarah could remember, and it had braved the weather—sun, rain and hail. Sarah sat, bent her knee and rested her chin on it, and her dad sat in the middle, legs spread forward, and one arm on the back behind Sarah.

  “I’m sorry, Sez girl,” he said, “I’m not sure what you’re feeling—heck, don’t know how to feel myself—but I want you to know I’m not leaving you. Just moving five or so minutes down the road. You know, I should be close enough to walk.”

  Sarah piped up at that. Her leg shot to the floor with the other, and she turned to face her dad full on, hands clumped in her lap. “Seriously?” Sarah beamed. “Awesome!”

  “I wouldn’t try walking in the rain or anything. Don’t need another reason for your mother to want to kill me. But when it’s sunny, go on and come whenever you like.”

  They both cracked up into uncontrollable fits of giggles. By the end, Sarah had her hands cupped around her mouth, her eyes ready to burst with tears, and her dad’s hand resting on her back, telling her to shush. He was biting his lip to stop the laughter, too.

  “I’ll sneak out tonight.” Sarah attempted an impersonation of a spy, eyes low, darting around for any movement. Satisfied, she whispered, leaning in, “I’ll come at 1.01 am. Mum will be up watching TV or crying or something. I can leave at 12.55 am and start the trek at 12.56 once I make it to the front. If you hear a knock at one am, then—”

  “Sarah.”

  “Really, don’t answer if—”

  “Sarah.”

  This time, he had her attention. Dread had struck her chest like a cold ice-block, and her fear of what he would say rooted her still.

  “Alyssa won’t want to be woken.”

  “But you said come whenever.”

  He looked to his lap. “I know …”

  “You said you were close enough to walk.”

  His tone became softer. “I know.”

  Sarah snapped. She crossed her legs under her awkwardly as she turned to face him. Her eyebrows were pulled in and her tone was clipped. “What the hell did you say that for, then?”

  Her dad didn’t bother to reprimand her for saying “hell” though she never said that around her parents. He didn’t answer for a few seconds. Sarah was glad he looked belittled, yet rage grew within her, and she had to fight the urge to grind her teeth. She needed an answer.

  “I meant it. Just call first, you know? And maybe we can organise a time when she’s not around to start off with. Get her used to the idea. Plus, she has a little baby, and stuff.”

  And stuff, Sarah thought. What could be more important than his own daughter? Her dad had never complained when Sarah needed him to fix her computer, be it midnight or noon. He would spend hours finding ingredients, shopping and making tiramisu for Sarah if her mum was away, and she wanted them to bake it together. Her dad gave her time.

  Sarah didn’t care what this pretty-named Lady Alyssa Fawnheart was giving her dad. She was the most important girl in his life.

  No, she thought, I used to be.

  She told her dad okay, that she supposed she could ring sometime.

  Her dad left, and Sarah didn’t speak to him for almost two weeks. She only came to his place when it was the weekend she was meant to see him.

  “Sara, isn’t it?” the lady who answered the door asked. She said it Sara, not Sarah and for some reason that pissed her off more.

  “Yep,” she replied, flat. “Where can I put my bag?”

  “Great to meet you! We can spend the whole weekend bonding. Ask anything you want! Let me just put the baby down for a nap, and I’ll help you settle in.”

  No, Sarah did not want to bond for a whole two days. She didn’t want anything from this stupid home-wrecker. She didn’t want to settle in. Sarah decided she was here for two days, and then gone. There wasn’t a point unpacking her bag, anyway.

  Sarah sat on her allotted bed and wedged a shoe under the door to be alone. She stared at it, and wondered why Alyssa Fawnheart had to have such a pretty name, luscious blonde, waist-length hair, tanned yet porcelain skin, and a pretty smile.

  Her mum was supposed to be the one with a pretty smile; not this lady.

  • • •

  NOW

  It was pitch black when Sarah started to wake. She felt like it had only been a couple of hours since she went to sleep, but obviously she was still tired, and it was most-definitely morning already. She felt a hand rousing her and a sudden light illuminate her bedroom. She flung her hands out, trying to find something to steady herself since she had to squint. There was a person beside her telling her, “Sorry, it’s just me,” and she knew it was her mum.

  After a couple of minutes, she sat up against her headboard, with a cardigan on and the sheets tucked over her around her waist. She noticed her mum on the edge of the bed, though in her pyjamas, had her hair in a neat ponytail, and she looked ten times less ghoulish than her. Her eyes were
big, aware, and she was sitting perfectly straight.

  “I’m sorry, Sez,” her mum told her again. She frowned and played with the hem of her drawstring pants. “I was doing some thinking and I’d be still sleeping by the time you left for work this morning. You have to know.”

  Sarah took in her mum and willed her nerves to stay down, calm, and not rattle her. It was of no use, though, because already Sarah felt chilly, and not in an I-am-too-cold way.

  “What? You can tell me anything, don’t worry.” Sarah opened up the sheets and folded them over. She patted the spot next to her. “Lay in bed. You must be cold like that.”

  “Well, okay.”

  Her mum sat back, pulled her legs in and tucked the sheets and cover over her, matching Sarah’s position up against the headboard.

  Both mother and daughter looked at each other, which made the pit in Sarah’s stomach grow thanks to the raw honesty in that look. This wasn’t bad news, it was terrible news, and suddenly, remembering her mum’s strange reaction at the front door when she’d come back from being with Malik, Sarah couldn’t imagine the worst news she could hear right now. She didn’t want anything coming between her and the first important guy since her break up with Nicholas. She loved feeling everything—joy, elation, heat, the erotic sensation, being comfortable …

  “I don’t think Malik is who you think he is.”

  “I need to ask some things before you go ahead. Am I adopted? Is there a chance we’re biological siblings? Wait, Dad cheated way before I was born, and he’s my half-brother!” Sarah clapped her hands over her mouth. “Oh my God …”

  Her mother managed a small chuckle. She placed a comforting hand on Sarah’s shoulder. When Sarah looked into her eyes, relief swept through her. By the look on her mum’s face, nothing could be further from the truth from that. Sarah sighed. There was nothing besides that possible taboo that would be that bad. She knew, deep inside, she had been broken before but she was strong, and she’d do whatever she wanted, figure a way around whatever her mum supposed was too bad, to wait until tomorrow after work.