I Do, Maybe: A Novella

by Jay, Libby

  Fraser.

  Bloody business Fraser, he’s no fun at all.

  “Hey Kat, do you know a guy called Brandon Johnston from Star and Sea?”

  She looked up from her math homework. “Nope.”

  I frowned. I bet he’ll be short and fat and ugly and most likely gay. Oh well, at least I was going.

  From: Emily Watkins

  To: Fraser Lewis

  Sent: Wednesday 22nd June, 2016 16:17

  RE: School Dance

  Dear Fraser

  Thank you for your permission to attend the formal. Of course I’ll obey curfew. I’m a very responsible young woman. Plus, I’ll have to be up at 6.30 the following morning for training. I’ve got a long distance meet the following week.

  Thanks again.

  Yours Sincerely,

  Emily.

  The night of the dance arrived and I was excited despite my low expectations regarding my dance partner. Kat and I were bubbles of excitement as we styled our hair and applied makeup – which I had to borrow from Kat – and slipped our dresses on. Kat had been back to my apartment the weekend before the dance and we tried on all fifteen formal dresses that hung in the wardrobe. (I had recently had a visit from Nadia, my personal shopper, who took my measurements and arrived back a week later with an entirely new wardrobe for me.) Kat and I settled on the dark red, a-line dress with a short flowing skirt. It had a diamond crusted belt and looked absolutely stunning on. Paired with nude heels, and my hair pulled off my face but flowing down my back, I looked a far cry from the Emily I’d become accustomed to looking at in the mirror.

  Kat took a photo of me and I sent it to Mum, John and Fraser. Mum and John replied, saying I looked beautiful, but Fraser didn’t reply.

  Kat wore a black dress, strapless, full length with a split up the leg. It was daring, but suited Kat to a tee.

  I listened as partners were called and paired. Being as my surname started with “W” I was going to be one of the last. I looked around the dwindling group of boys from Star and Seas.

  I knew which one Brandon Johnston was going to be. He was tall and lanky and was suffering from a chronic case of acne and was wearing a blue suit that looked like something straight from the 1970’s, complete with frilly shirt and all.

  I’d kill Fraser when I got my hands on him.

  “Emily Watkins and Brandon Johnston.” The principal called our names.

  I looked toward the tall guy but he didn’t move. To the left, I saw movement. A guy, who had been standing at the very back moved forward and put his hand out to me.

  I had to make a very conscious effort not to swoon over him. He was gorgeous. His clear skin was tanned a natural brown and his jet black hair matched his eyes. He took my hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing my knuckles.

  “Emily, it’s a pleasure,” he said in a thick accent.

  “Yes,” I smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

  He took my hand and we assumed our position on the dance floor.

  Kat sent me a wink and made a rude gesture with her tongue on the inside of her cheek. I turned away so that Brandon wouldn’t see how red I’d gone.

  The music started, The Blue Danube, and we began to waltz around the room. I was busy focusing on my steps and didn’t realise that Brandon had started talking.

  “Wouldn’t you agree?” he said.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I was too busy making sure I didn’t step on your toes.”

  Brandon laughed and held my back a little tighter. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” We took a few more steps before he repeated his question. “Fraser is a bit of a tyrant, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “You know Fraser?” I asked, surprised.

  “Of course I do. I won the Lewis Scholarship the same year you did.”

  Of course. Of course Fraser would match me up with someone whose life he could easily destroy if they were to step out of line.

  “Fraser is a lot of things,’ I said. “I have most certainly seen a tyrannical side to him. But I think he’s much softer than most would give him credit for.”

  “I certainly haven’t seen any side to him to make me think he’s soft.” Brandon smiled down at me. “Perhaps you haven’t given him any reason to show his harder side.”

  I laugh. “I can’t be too sure about that.”

  We continued to dance for another minute before I asked Brandon where he was from.

  “I’m an Australian citizen now, but my mother and I moved here from Italy when I was eight.”

  “Brandon Johnston is not a very Italian name,” I said with a smile.

  Brandon laughed. “No it’s not. My real name is Brando Giordano, but we changed our names to be more…”

  “Australian?” I asked.

  “Yes. Australian and less Italian, although I still haven’t lost my accent completely.”

  “I think it’s a shame that you will lose it. It’s lovely.”

  “Thank you, Emily.”

  We were only obliged to dance two dances together, but after dinner, we danced for the rest of the night.

  Kat joined us with her partner, Patrick Hessey, who was short and fat and most probably gay. But he was a lot of fun.

  At the end of the night, we all huddled together for a photo and then Brandon and I posed for a photo alone.

  Just before Kat took the photo, he leaned in and turned his head slightly to kiss my cheek. The photo captured the moment perfectly; my surprised face and the cheeky sparkle in Brandon’s eyes.

  He gave me his email address and asked to keep in contact. I said that I would but I knew I’d have to run it by Fraser first.

  That night as I lay in bed, thinking about how much fun I’d had with Brandon, it really hit me what I was missing out on being involved in this contractual arrangement. If my situation was different, I would’ve allowed Brandon to do a lot more than just kiss my cheek. Kat had met a guy who she was going to see next weekend. I wanted to meet guys and have whirlwind romances and have my heart broken over and over.

  Tears spilled from my eyes and I tried with all my heart not to hate Fraser. But even more difficult than that, I had to try not to hate my parents again.

  Chapter Six

  From: Emily Watkins

  To: Fraser Lewis

  Sent: Friday 9th December 2016 18:39

  RE:

  Fraser,

  Are you my friend? I mean, can I tell you things I’d never tell other people with the knowledge you would be honest and that I can trust you not to tell anyone what I’ve confided in you?

  From: Fraser Lewis

  To: Emily Watkins

  Sent: Friday 9th December 2016 18:51

  RE:

  Of course I’m your friend and I consider you one of my friends too. Probably my best friend. I’d never betray your trust, you can tell me anything. Are you okay?

  From: Emily Watkins

  To: Fraser Lewis

  Sent: Friday 9th December 2016 18:58

  RE:

  Mum and Dad only want me home for a week over Summer break. I was looking forward to spending my entire Summer break in Melbourne. But Mum said they’ll be working the entire time so I should only come home for Christmas/NY week. Something’s going on Fraser and no one will tell me. Not even John. Everyone keeps saying the same thing, ‘mum and dad are busy’. My mum and dad have never been too busy for me. They’ve always made time for me. Mum was really short with me on the phone today. Almost like she was upset at me, she was very abrupt. And she wouldn’t let me talk to Dad.

  Have I done something to upset them? I know you and your dad talk to my parents on occasion, have they mentioned anything to you? Have my parents separated? Are they getting a divorce? Or am I being overly dramatic?

  My phone rang minutes later.

  “Fraser,” I answered. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing, you’re parents haven’t separated and they’re not getting divorced. They’re just…busy.”

  “
Yeah, so everyone keeps saying.”

  Fraser sighed down the phone. “Do you want to go away after New Year?”

  “Where and with who? I don’t want to go away on my own.”

  “With Kat and John? We have a family villa on the Whitsunday’s. You could stay there for a few weeks. Greg would have to go with you but he can stay in the guest house.”

  “Kats going to Europe, but could I go with John?” Chilling out with John sounded perfect. Maybe I could get him to talk about what was happening at home.

  “Yeah. I’ll arrange it all for you.”

  “Fraser, are you trying to distract me?”

  “No, you deserve a holiday.”

  “Do you promise me everything’s good with my parents?”

  “I promise. They’re fine.” He didn’t sound very convincing but I figure either way I would find out.

  “Okay, the Whitsunday’s sounds lovely. Thanks Fraser.”

  “No problems Piglet.”

  *****

  I knew as soon as my alarm went off that I was going to have a bad day. My head thumped, my body ached and my throat felt like it was on fire. I lifted my heavy body up from bed and searched my bedside drawer for Panadol. Swallowing two tablets back with a mouthful of juice, I put my running gear on and met my team by the gym.

  I stretched and shook my arms loose, trying to rid my body of its dull ache but it wouldn’t budge. We set off for our run. I was one of the girls who usually set the pace, but this day, I ran at the back of the pack.

  “Having a bad day,” Coach Hibbins asked as she ran up my flank.

  “Yeah, I’m feeling a bit off,” I answered honestly.

  “We all have off days,” she said as she ran ahead to the middle of the pack.

  Thursday mornings were a ten k run. But this day, I didn’t make it to four. My body seized, my vision blurred and for a moment I thought I was going to pass out.

  “Coach,” I called out as I lowered myself down to the ground.

  “Watkins,” she said with a tone of shock in her voice.

  “I’m not feeling well,” I said quietly.

  “Can you walk?”

  “I think so, I need to sit for a moment though.”

  “Black! Wright!” Coach called to two of my running team members, “Take Watkins to the nurse, I’ll be up in twenty minutes.”

  The nurse looked at me and shook her head. “Why on earth were you out running with a fever, you’re burning up.”

  “I feel cold,” I said, hugging myself.

  The nurse left the room and left me lying on a small bed.

  I felt my eyes get heavy and soon I fell asleep.

  Sometime later I woke up to the nurse’s voice talking into the phone.

  “Her temperature is at 39.7…I think it’s tonsillitis, which is contagious so she needs to go home…she took two Panadol this morning before her run…her doctor’s appointment is at eleven thirty…I can’t give her anything else…good, I’ll have her dorm mate bring her a change of clothes…thank you Mr. Lewis.”

  My eyes closed again.

  Greg was standing over me the next time I woke up. He smiled down at me.

  “Can you walk or do I need to carry you?”

  “I can walk,” I said, slowly sitting up. My head spun and I saw stars.

  I felt Greg’s hand grab my arm. “I’ll help you.”

  The doctor said he’d never seen tonsils as swollen and infected as mine. He gave me a script for antibiotics and told me to take Panadol every four hours for the fever. He suggested I drink plenty of water at room temperature as hot or cold water would only aggravate my throat further.

  Georgiana helped me into bed. “I want my mum,” I slurred.

  “I know sweetheart, she’ll be here just as soon as she can.” Georgiana pulled my blankets up over me. It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep again.

  I heard a quiet voice. “She’s still asleep, I’ll get her to call you.”

  I moaned and rolled over in bed to let Georgiana know I was slowly waking up.

  “Wait a second, I think she’s waking up.” I opened my eyes to see her walking into my bedroom. “Sweetheart, Fraser’s been calling you. He wants to know how you’re feeling.”

  “Okay,” I rolled onto my back and held my hand out to the phone. I put it on speaker and put it on the pillow next to me. “Hi,” I said quietly. It still hurt to talk.

  “Hey Piglet, are you okay?”

  “No, not really. I have tonsillitis. It really hurts.”

  “You sound terrible.”

  “I feel terrible.” I wiped a tear from my eye. I wasn’t crying, my eyes were watering though.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked, his voice sincere.

  “I want my mum,” I said, letting go of a breath.

  “I know, she’ll be there tonight. She can’t get away until after six.”

  “Oh, okay.” I wondered what she was doing that was keeping her away but I didn’t have the conviction to ask.

  “Do you need anything else? Do you want a TV for your bedroom? I can have one put in today.”

  I smiled. “No, I’m too tired to watch TV. I want to sleep.”

  “Alright, I’ll let you go. But call me if you need anything, anything at all.”

  “I will. Thank you Fraser.” I ended the call, pulled my arm back under the blanket and closed my eyes. Sleep took me again.

  I woke up when I felt a cool hand touch my forehead.

  “Mum,” I said quietly.

  “Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner darling. I got caught up with your father’s business.”

  “It’s okay.” I smiled up at her.

  “Your fever seems to have come down, you don’t feel too hot.”

  “Georgiana’s been giving me Panadol. And I’ve had two doses of antibiotics.”

  “Good, they’re looking after you.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I’m here now.”

  “Thanks for coming Mum. I needed to see a friendly face.”

  She smiled down at me. “Everyone here is friendly.”

  “They are,” I said, recalling how Greg and Georgiana had cared for me during the day. “But no one beats having you here.” I reached out for her hand. “I’m so tired.”

  “Sleep darling.” She leant down and kissed my forehead. “I’ll leave the door open. Call out if you need anything.”

  Mum made me eat breakfast; she scrambled eggs, something easy to swallow. She heated a mug of milk and I sat down on the couch, staring out to the blue sky.

  I still didn’t feel good, my throat was painfully sore, but my body wasn’t aching anymore. My head felt a bit foggy.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Are you expecting anyone?” Mum asked.

  “No, it’ll be Georgiana or Greg. Or one of the Lewis’. It’ll be someone,” I conclude.

  It was Greg, and he was dragging a huge black bean bag.

  “What’s that for?” I asked.

  “It’s from Fraser’s apartment. He asked me to bring it down to you.”

  “Oh, why?”

  Greg shrugged as he dragged the bag to the window. “Sit in it,” he said.

  I got up, made my way to it, and slowly lowered myself down onto it.

  “Oh my,” I sighed as I relaxed back into it. “It’s full of feathers, it’s not beans.” I wriggled to sink further into it. “It’s so soft.” I felt my body relax further. “Mum, can you get my phone and a blanket. I’m going to stay here.” I looked up at Greg. “Thanks for bringing it down.”

  “Not a problem Emily. You’re looking better today.”

  “I feel a bit better.”

  Mum handed me my phone and covered me with a blanket. “This was very thoughtful of Fraser.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “He is thoughtful.” I called Fraser, but he didn’t answer. I left a quick message. “Hey, it’s Emily. Thanks for the bean bag, or feather bag, or whatever you call it. It’s awes
ome. I’ll probably never give it back to you. So thanks again.”

  I slept away most of the morning and sometime after midday Mum insisted I have a bath; she said I’d feel better after having a bath. With soft music playing from my phone, bubbles covering my body, I let the heat from the water soothe my body.

  “Don’t fall asleep in there,” Mum said as she poked her head in around the doorway.

  “I won’t,” I said as my eyes began to feel heavy. But my phone rang and I opened my eyes as I reached for it.

  “Hi Fraser,” I answered.

  “Hi, how are you feeling today?”

  “I feel a bit better, but my throat is sore. I’ve slept most of today. What are you doing?”

  “I’m at school, lunch break.”

  “Oh yeah, it’s Friday.”

  “Why is there an echo? You sound tinny,” Fraser said.

  “I’m in the bath,” I answered.

  “You’re in the bath?” he asked.

  “Yep. This bath is so deep, I love it. I have a bath every weekend I’m here.”

  “You’re in the bath right now?”

  “Yeah,” I smiled. “Why? Are you picturing me naked?”

  “Umm…well…I…umm…”

  I laughed. “You’re so funny. It’s a bubble bath, so technically you can’t see anything.”

  “I don’t think that matters.”

  “Well, whatever you’re imagining, I reckon it looks better in real life.”

  “Em, I gotta go.”

  I laughed again. “You’re funny.”

  “And you’re killing me.”

  “Want me to send you a picture?”

  I heard Fraser groan as Mum popped her head around the doorway again. “Darling,” she said. “I don’t think it’s appropriate…”

  “It’s okay Mum, Fraser doesn’t want a picture.”

  “Maybe I do,” I hear Fraser say down the phone.

  Mum shakes her head and leaves the bathroom again.

  “I better go Em, I’m glad you’re feeling better. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Okay, thanks again for the bean bag thingy, it’s unreal.”

  “That’s okay, you can keep it, I have two.”

  “Cool, thanks. Bye.”

  “See ya.”

  I did send Fraser a picture, my feet complete with red painted toenails, poking up through the bubbles at the far end of the bath.