Cut (9 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Mareé

BOOK: Cut
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I mean,
I
nearly kissed him.

What am I thinking?!

I’m obviously not thinking!

The words Rosie spoke earlier reminisce in my head.

'If he wants to, I’m sure you know what to do.’

No, no, no, NO!

I am nowhere near ready for that!

My hearts faint echo starts to pulse even louder and far more painful than I’ve felt since the day before. I feel the small chunks start to rise up the depths of my throat and into my mouth.

I can’t do this.

I swallow the disgusting taste away and glance down the road where I left him. He appears to be wrapping things up with his adoring teenage fans and I decide I need an exit strategy. And now. I take a few swift leaps toward the street and stick out my arm, praying a taxi will come to my rescue. Faintly, I think I see one in the distance.

"Hey!"

I hear Jay call to me from behind and turning only my head, I see him jogging towards me.

Shit!

I turn abruptly back toward the street hoping I will be met with the taxi before he reaches me.

"Where are you going?" he asks as he approaches, with a hint of concern in his usually un-emotive voice. My arm still stretched out over the kerb and my back facing him, I peek over my shoulder so I can look at him, carefully.

Take a deep breath. Be strong.

"I want to thank you so much for today. The markets and lunch, I had a nice time," I state honestly, my voice sounding unemotional and unkind. His brow creases and he rubs his forehead with his hands roughly. He looks worried, confused maybe; before returning his earnest striking eyes toward mine. His subtle touch is felt on my arm as he tugs it gently, guiding it down towards my side.

"Please don’t go yet." 
Oh my.
His voice cuts through me, right to the core and I stand stiffly not wanting to make any sudden movements. As openly as I can manage without completely falling apart around him I tenderly whisper. "I can’t."

I take a deep breath and muster as much strength as I can. I raise my hand from underneath his delicate hold and signal the oncoming taxi. Within seconds the car pulls abruptly into the kerb. I reach dramatically for the door handle swinging it open emotionally, and before I hurdle into the car I turn to look at him once more. "I’m sorry," I mutter before getting in. "141 Harper Street, Annandale please," I retort to the driver; and as the car pulls back into the street, all I can do is stare at his motionless body as we drive away. As soon as he is out of my sight the tears that seem to permanently hover just under the surface can’t be held back anymore. 
They flow uncontrollably.

 

As I pay the driver outside Rosie’s terrace, I lethargically make my way towards the house. My tears have stopped, but my face feels inflated and hot - the ultimate consequence of crying hysterically for the past twenty minutes. I am utterly spent. Merely wanting to sneak upstairs to my room and pretend like the last twenty four hours never happened, I look up towards the entrance door and spy Rosie standing wide eyed under the architrave.

Oh great.

I roll my eyes instantly.

"Oh my God Penny, what happened?!" she exasperates as she scans my flushed face and red eyes, her concern obvious. I say nothing as I slide in past her and into the foyer.

Please I just want to get inside.

Without making eye contact, I continue straight up the stairs and I can feel her follow me close behind.

"Penny what’s wrong? Please talk to me!"

I make it into my room and head for my perfectly made bed. Kicking off my shoes I recklessly pull the covers down and climb in, covering myself with the blankets to drown out the day.

"Penny what happened?"

I feel the bed dip as she plonks herself beside me. I can feel her gaze boring a hole through the covers begging me to speak to her and the worry that has been placed over her expression for the past few months is there glowing fiercer than ever. I swallow guiltily.

"Nothing Rose. Please I just want to be alone," I sniff, as I know there is no chance of more tears right now, as I really couldn’t muster up the strength they require. I’m done.

"Please talk to me," she pushes, placing her hand on my forehead that peaks out from beneath the doona. The same way a worried parent does to her ill child.

She won’t let it go until I talk to her.

She never does.

I take an agitated breath and peer out from beneath its protection so I am out in the unshielded open. My thoughts scatter irrationally.

"Nothing really. We kind of had a near moment," I say confused. "Nothing happened. I just... I ... just needed to get out of there," I express as best I can.

That’s it?!

Can anyone say overreaction?

"What do you mean a ‘near moment’? Did he try something on you? Force you?"

"Nothing like that,” I reply dismissingly, tossing my head left to right as the whole scene flashes in my mind. I take another awkward breath. “We almost kissed. I think. I don’t know. Maybe not."

I sound crazy. I’m beginning to think it too. Shedding so many tears over something so trivial.

What am I?

An in-experienced teenager?

"I don’t know Rose, it’s how he makes me feel. He’s so intense and closed off. We were about to... and I freaked out!" I try to say it in a way she will understand, but I’m not even sure that I comprehend it. Her warm palm, still comforting me on my forehead, endures one last caress before finding its resting place on the bed beside her. I look up toward her and she’s frowning. My heart sinks a tad further at the sorrowful sight before me that again, I seem to have caused.

"Pen, you have been through a lot ok. It probably just reminded you about what you have been through and it flipped you out. It’s no big deal. Just call him and explain," she negotiates in her calm and familiar tone.

I shrug and roll my eyes dramatically. "There’s no point. He’s leaving tomorrow anyway, and I’m not sure I want to talk to him. I did what you said. I went out, had lunch and now I’ve told you all about it. Mission accomplished!" My reply surprises me. It’s harsh and bitchy. I’m clearly taking it all out on Rosie. I turn my entire body onto my side away from her so I don’t feel worsened by having to watch her expression alter in receipt of my ill comments, and drag the covers back over my face.

"Please can you just leave me alone?" I add bluntly.

She doesn't reply. I only hear the faint steps on my wooden floor boards across the room, and my door click as it closes shut.

 

Chapter Seven

He thinks that I am asleep, so I lay still, not moving a muscle. My eyes are barely open, but I can see him as clear as anything. His tall athletic frame is hunched over the small glass desk in the corner of the room. It’s under the window, and the way the light is shining down on him is as heavenly as anything you could see on earth. He’s scribbling something on a piece of paper, but I can’t see it from this still position without letting him know I’m awake. His hand rises to rest amongst his dark brown hair that rests just underneath his ears - like it does when he is deep in thought. One of the many quirks I know all too well by now. I smile lovingly.

Without warning he turns his gaze directly towards me and I shut my eyes fiercely, hoping he didn’t notice my lame attempt to pretend to be sleeping. I hold my breath. I hear his faint footsteps on the bamboo floor and before I can open my eyes, I feel his firm hands on my sides.

"Evan! Stop it!"

His hands are all over my stomach, tickling me constantly and I erupt in a fit of hysterics.

"You little faker! I will teach you," he says with a warm smile. 

"Stop it Evan! Stop!"

I can’t stop laughing... giggling.. .playful... happy and in love.

 

I open my eyes with a sudden jerk and sit up abruptly in my bed.

Yes it’s my bed.

Quickly scanning the room I realise that I am alone in my too large bed, upstairs in my room in Rosie’s terrace, and I immediately sigh with sadness. For a second I thought I was back there with him in much simpler, easier times. Happier times.  This new world without him is far harder, more emotional and much too complex a world to live in solely. The self-pity I have been locked in since it all happened has found its home again, quite comfortably I might add. I dramatically pull out my day old bun and shake my hair free, letting it fall messily down my shoulders and back, to somehow remove the feel of his rugged hands all over me.

I make my way downstairs cautiously as I know I have to face Rosie. Apologise. But as I get to the bottom of the stairs I spy a note taped to the front door, like she has done for the past few months since I’ve been locked away to let me know where she is.

             
Gone to see Tony, be back later,

thought you might like time alone.... 

Rose x

I reach for the hand written note and pull it off the door carefully so as not to ruin the timber stain. I sigh heavily...
guiltily
.

I stumble into the kitchen and glance up at the clock on the wall above the bench. It’s now 8.45pm. Heading straight for the fridge door I scrunch Rosie’s note up into a ball and toss it into the cane bin beside it. After staring inside at the many contents I decide on a diet Pepsi; as I am not sure I could stomach anything more than that right now. As I crack the can open, I push the door closed with my foot and head over to the bench - playing with the aluminium in my uneasy palms still trying to shake the images of
his
dark brown eyes grazing over me adoringly.

What. A. Day. Weeks. Months…

Still making an attempt to remove the images from my dream and also not wanting to think about my day with
him
either - I try to focus on forgetting about all of it. I am not sure how, but I have to find a way.

As I stare grimly over the bench towards the window, the buffet table captures my attention. Rosie has left the lampshade on, like she always does when she leaves the house and just next to it, I notice my phone. Curiously, I wander over to the table and take it prisoner in my hand. I hesitantly swipe open the menu screen and see five missed calls and a single text message flash before me. My eyes widen with intrigue and I take a heavy gulp to prepare for what follows.

Could it have been Jay?

Torn between wanting to read the text and wanting to forget the whole incident - my brain isn’t speaking its direction to my body. The same way it’s let me down the past twenty four hours and so my fingers are already clicking on the message to open it before I can tell it to stop.

Jay:
I'm not sure what I have done.

I want to talk to you. Pls pick up.

My heart starts to race again.

He’d really like to talk to me?

He had most of the day to talk to me and he isn’t so forthcoming in person.

I touch my finger on the recent calls button and see that it's his previously called number that has tried again five more times.

Should I call him?

I play with the idea in my mind, hovering my finger over his number to perhaps try to explain my rash exit today.

What would I even say?

How could I explain it? 

My thoughts are instantly distracted by the same disco tone on my phone as my eyes widen with sheer shock.

It’s ringing!

Before I can muster an actual decision, I answer the call before my brain can contemplate ignoring it.

"Hello?" I answer tentatively.

"Penelope?" he questions, sounding completely surprised. "I didn’t think you would pick up. I’ve tried you like four times!"

"Five times," I mumble.

"Yes five times," he replies annoyed before adding much softer. "Why didn’t you answer? I thought something may have happened to you."

Why does he care so much about what happens to me?

"I’m home… safe. I took a nap. I only just came downstairs and found my phone sitting here with all the missed calls and your text," I reply automatically and truthfully.

"And?" he questions.

"And what?" I reply.

"I’d like to talk to you.”

"We are talking!" I quip back sarcastically.

"I mean face to face, can I come and see you?" His voice is so sincere that it sends a delicious tingle through my body.

"Now?!" I shriek, glancing at the clock that now reads 8.56pm.

"Yes, now," he answers immediately before adding, "If that’s alright with you?"

I search for the right words. For something that wouldn't be too rude or stupid. I’m not sure why or what it is, but I can’t seem to function properly when he’s around.

It's either him or I’m just completely fucked up!

"I’m kind of tired..." I trail off under my breath, and feel instantly culpable for the brush off. He doesn’t seem to notice.

"I won’t be long."

I shiver and pause again trying to find something more convincing. But with the emotional exhaustion I'm reeling from I simply can’t be bothered anymore to refute. "I guess."

I don’t hear a goodbye, only the click on the other end of the line and a dial tone.

Shit!

Jay’s on his way over here!

 

It’s been at least twenty minutes since Jay called and said he was on his way over, and I’ve managed to wash my face, reapply my makeup and tie my hair up in a loose knot on top of my head. I move into the lounge room which sites adjacent to the kitchen, and switch on the light. I glance around the room eyeing the suede two seater sofa, and decide to turn on some music to break up the silence.

Yes silence.

In the very short time I’ve known him he’s not one to over share. I fumble the radio on which is located on the bottom shelf of the entertainment unit and lower the sound so it’s at a reasonable level.

I am so nervous!

Not long after, I hear a polite knock on the front door. 

Taking a deep breath I walk out of the living room towards it and fretfully swing it open towards me. There he stands, in all of his beauty glowing under the porch light. His blue powerful eyes staring at me fiercely and his body still effortlessly dressed in his outfit from our days outing. His smell is a little stronger than before but not overpowering, only making him smell cleaner, fresher and sexier; if that’s even possible.

"Come in."

I smile nervously as I position my body to the side, allowing him to enter inside the door past me. The close proximity to my body is electrifying and I find myself automatically breathing in his scent as he passes me.

"Umm, can I offer you something to drink?" I ask awkwardly as I close the door behind him and fumble my hands against my queasy abdomen. A smile hits the corner of his delicate lips as he shakes his head.

"No thank you."

I signal my hand to my left, urging him to follow me into the lounge area I had prepared earlier. I sit down timidly on the furthest side of the sofa and he follows, taking the seat in the opposite end beside me. There’s at least a person space between us and I can't help but breathe a sigh of relief. He eyes me momentarily, as if seeking the right words to say. His forceful gaze gaining more intensity as each second passes by. It’s unnerving.

"Thank you for letting me and come see you, I realise it’s probably getting late," he starts off his face wracked with indecision.

"It’s okay," I shrug.

What do you want?

"I guess I wanted to apologise for today, I didn’t want you to think you had to leave."

He’s sorry.

He’s sorry?

What for?

He didn’t do anything!

I look at him puzzled. "You’re sorry?" I ask bewildered, mirroring my thoughts. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

He gawks at me with wide astonished eyes.

"The girls who interrupted us. I didn’t mean to be rude to you, it’s just a part of my work. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to leave. I just need to keep work separate from everything else." His eyes look entirely honest as he speaks, showing a little more emotion than usual. It’s as if the windows have opened slightly allowing the fresh sincere air to breeze ever so freely through. The view is breathtaking.

"Jay, that’s not why I left," I whisper softly. I look at him apologetically, and he immediately responds.

"I don’t understand."

I take a deep breath. "Look, I’ve recently been through something that I haven’t really recovered from, and just being alone with you kind of brought it all back to me...." I trail, struggling to find the right words without going into too much detail. I mean, I have only just met this guy, and I was still struggling with the swirling emotions from my earlier dream. "Please don’t think it had anything to do with you specifically. It didn’t."

He eyes me more intently and in one slow steady move, he slides along the sofa so he is sitting in the vacant spot between us.

Oh no, that wasn’t an invitation!

My thoughts panic as my heart races with both the adrenalin and the fear.

"Penelope, I was worried I might have scared you off," he answers softly his eyes still not taking their gaze off me.

"What do you mean?"

He shrugs his shoulders like he’s a little uncomfortable, but continues. "I was hoping to see you again and I was worried my work might have rubbed you the wrong way. I realise it can be a little confronting, and the way you left, I was worried that you wouldn’t want to see me again."

He wants to see me again?

Are you serious?

I decide I need to lay it down the line and be frank. It’s now or never. "Jay, that’s really sweet. It’s just, to be perfectly honest... I just. Can’t." I answer with as many words as I can right now. I need to rebuild my shredded soul before I can even think about spending more time with another man; especially one as intense as he has proven to be. Besides, he will go back to where he came from tomorrow, forget all about me and be back in the news with some other model type girl.

He eyes me suspiciously, tilting his head to the side like he is trying to decipher my thoughts. I pray in that moment that he can't.

"What do you mean can't? You physically can't, as in you are seeing someone? Or you
won’t
?"

I squirm at the direct question.

"I’m not seeing anyone," I mumble under my breath and just saying it aloud brings a sick feeling in my throat. I gulp it away before continuing. "I guess when you say it like that... I won’t." I look away from him, down toward the sofa. I feel the intensity in his gaze as the air around me is dense and suffocating - making it difficult to breathe. The thrill I feel from his touch quickens my heart rate further, as his delicate fingers grasp the bottom of my chin. He presses firmly, so he is able to tilt my head mere inches so my eyes have no choice but to focus on his. The instant connection between them is immediate. His aim strikes straight through me. It's hard and precise, like a long sword meets its target in one swift move. My pulse is racing too abnormally, like it may rise out of my chest and run screaming for the hills. My body is rigid and completely still, not wanting to make any sudden movements in case my soul is exiled into a complete devastation.

"Why?" he asks so... seductively.

Yes, it’s not danger. It's seductive. Sexy .

I realise that it’s not something I’ve experienced before. The sensations aroused in me by him are different to the feelings I had before. All I had ever experienced was comfortable and predictable, which is why the whole revelation devastated me beyond belief. When I am with Jay, it’s exciting and severe. Feelings I may have mistaken for fear and him being dangerous, when really it’s his sex appeal that is triggering such anxiety. I swallow heavily and don’t reply to his question.

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