Fragments (29 page)

I park my car in the allocated spot out front and grab my bag and keys. Walking into the garage, my nostrils are inundated with the smell of grease and petrol with the occasional lingering hint of burned rubber. The one thing that I love about this place is the fact that they restore vintage cars while blaring 70s rock music.

Seeing as it is a popular area, there are about six mechanics in this large garage. Each has a station to work in and each holds a certain specialty in restoration. But as I just have a simple Barina, any mechanic usually deals with it.

I head towards the front desk that is ironically located right up the back of the warehouse

near an office. Lily is on her way out.

“Hey, Trice.” She blinks quickly, giving me a tight nod.  Her face is flustered as she passes me.

“Hey, Lily.”

Standing behind her is Leon, the spunky mechanic who blatantly flirts with me each time I come here. Now her red face makes sense as she rushes out. As I get nearer, he looks up and smiles.

“Hey there, Miss Trice. Did you bring your skittle in for another service?” Looking down in the appointment book, he scans his index finger along the appointments. “Ah, looks like you did. You want us to spray it black, as that is more ‘badass’?” he says, using his fingers to emphasise the word.

“In your dreams, Leon. My baby is staying red. Red goes faster anyway.”

He looks me up and down, and stared at my lips before muttering, “I’m sure it does.” 

I feel my face heat as I look away from his burning gaze. Leon is tall, taller than Alex, and has jet-black hair. His eyes are a dark chocolate brown and his smile seems mischievous. Several sleeve- length tribal tattoos adorn his arms and I can see the flicker of a tail at the tip of his collarbone. His lip is side-pierced, also. He looks like a rock star in mechanic’s clothing. He is the highlight of taking my car in to be serviced.

“So,” he says, “got much planned for the weekend?”

I nod and pull the strap of my bag closer to my shoulder.              

“Yeah, we’re heading out to RT’s tonight. The boys like going there, apparently, but I know I’ll feel old.” I laugh while rolling my eyes.

“You? Old? Nah. If anything, you’ll put those girls to shame.” Winking, he holds his hands out for my keys. I laugh nervously and dip into my bag to retrieve my keys while asking, “Do you have any plans tonight?” Then, before I can stop myself, I blurt, “You should come.”

He blinks and smiles. Nodding, he draws his lips in contemplation.

“I’ll see what the guys want to do.”

Taking the keys from my hand, his fingers touch mine briefly. Sadly, there is no spark. Just a simple exchange of property. He is cute, though. I smile and gesture that I am leaving with a dorky hand wave.

*              *              *              *              *

              Pulling my sunglasses out of my bag, I put them on as I head for the tram. Trinity is going to meet me at the factory outlet in twenty minutes, so I needed to get there on time. Lately she has been so erratic, (more than usual since her mother’s death) so this time together shopping should be worth it. I just need to see that she is okay. A night out to let off steam is probably a good thing. I just wish Haze were here to dance with us.

As the tram trundles down the track, I stare aimlessly at the graffitied buildings as I travel by. I love how different Melbourne can be in just a short distance. From art deco to modern, from rundown to affluent, this city has it all and I adore it. The only thing stopping me from being entirely content is the dance academy. To think I busted my arse to get here, to escape teenage ailments, only to question daily if I am doing the right thing. At twenty-two, my perspective has changed. I no longer think of my hometown as being shitty. I miss seeing my parents, and I relish spending the occasional week or weekend with them. The second I smell my mum’s cooking or listen to a story my nonna recounts, it grounds me. If only I could combine both my hometown and Melbourne into one place. 

As I reach the outlet, Trinity is not too far away on her phone. At the moment, she has dark brown hair in a ponytail with the bottom third a bright, deep purple. It’s never the same colour for long. She’s pacing back and forth, talking furiously into her mobile and doesn’t see me approach.

“Yes, that’s right, I am happy to meet you this weekend to show your daughter her dress … No, it’s not a problem. This morning I am busy, but later in the afternoon …” I stop listening to her conversation as my phone beeps. Reaching into my bag, a text from Alex.

Alex: You coming home for lunch?

Me: No, sorry, I’m out with Trin. Will be home later.

Alex: Okay. You still coming tonight?? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.

Ah, so that’s why he’s really messaging me. He doesn’t want us to go out with him. Unfortunately for him, I already know how sordid his bar nights are. Might as well get used to them.
 

Me: Wouldn’t miss it! See you later.

Putting my phone away, I grit my teeth. I know that he’ll probably play up tonight. Will I be ready for it? Well, what better way to kick this crush in its arse and send it packing?

              Trinity ends her call, spots me, and rushes over, drawing me into a tight hug.

“Oh, thank God we’re meeting up! I am in need of some adult conversation that does not include anything to do with dresses for prissy sixteen-year-old bitches!” 

I laugh and give her a squeeze back. “Oh no, hon, did daddy’s little girl request a pink frilly dress and you said no?”

“Ugh.” She rolls her eyes. “If only it were that easy. These girls are mini bridezillas—minus the bride.”  She links her arm with mine as we walk towards the outlet. “I don’t know what I was thinking, opening my business to teenagers. They’re horrible!”

Our favourite clothing factory has burned up my credit card many a times in recent years. It is our go-to place for events or pick-me-ups after bad relationships. For Trinity to suggest coming here, obviously something was up. I am not buying the excuse that we need a whole new outfit for going out tonight, but seriously, being a girl, I didn’t really need an excuse, either. So, it’s a win-win situation for me.

Shopping with Trin is easy and brutally honest. I learnt early on to never shop with her while PMSing. Any remote insecurity could be worsened by her blunt ministrations. She is brutal in tearing you a new one if you choose something gaudy, and once, she even went off at the lady next to me for choosing a horrible item. At other times, it’s a riot and we have too much fun. Today, I was hoping for the latter.

Stepping into Vertigo, we are instantly surrounded by splashes of colour. This designer is known for bright shades, and in particular, garments of the short and tight variety. There are various assortments of other outfits, but if you want a cute ‘new look’ you come here.

“So,” Trin surmises, “we need something to say, ‘I’ve had a shit week, please buy me a vodka and cranberry’ and possibly make it a double.”

“That bad, huh, babe?” I muse, my lip twitching at her exuberance.

“Yep, but we also need a dress that says, ‘Hey Alex, see this?’’ She points to her crotch. “You had it years ago, and even though you want it, it’s strictly a look-but-don’t-touch policy.” 

I stop smiling and narrow my eyes at her. “What are you playing at, Trinity?”

She walks over to the middle rack and starts rifling through. “Oh, come on.” She rolls her eyes, and I can’t help but wonder how any of us still have eyes in our heads after rolling them so much. “You are living with Alex. Do not tell me that all the feelings you locked up have not resurfaced. You’ve been acting cagey for weeks. He is, after all, the reason you can’t commit.”

“Piss off, Trin,” I seethe. “We are just housemates.” I huff, folding my arms across my chest. “He and I are becoming
friends
again; nothing more, certainly nothing less.”

Picking out a deep purple sparkly number, she looks at the tag and sighs. “I wish I had more time, as I can whip this shit up for half the cost. Here.” She hands it over to me. “Try this on and when you find the paddle to row yourself out of that Egyptian river, you can come back over.” 

I snatch the dress and march over to the changing rooms. No sooner have I drawn the curtain back and stepped inside than Trinity is right behind me, grabbing my arm.

“Trice, I—” She pauses, pressing her lips together. “I’m sorry for being a bitch. I know it’s hard living with him, and I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”

I can see that she is being sincere. “S’okay, hon. You’re right, though. Soon as I saw him, it was like a cage of Alex butterflies lit up my chest. No other man has ever done that. You know what the sad thing is? He saw me in my green nightie and said my dicky torn up band T-shirts were better.” I drop my shoulders in defeat. “How humiliating. Not even a silk nightie impresses him. Why must I let down the female population by liking the clichéd dickhead again?” I whine.

Trin wraps her arms around my shoulder and says, “Even though you weren’t his first love, he was still yours. First loves, just suck … donkey balls.”

I laugh and wrap my arm around her back, putting my head on her shoulder. For a moment, we laugh, and I’m grateful that she is my blunt angel.

“Right!” Trin steps back and claps. “Let’s make him wish he wasn’t a blind goof while you find yourself a hottie!”

I grin and clap my hands, too. Sounds like a plan.

              We spend a while trying on different outfits and browsing the racks. Trin is blunt, as usual, with her observations. As she flicks through the racks, while she mutters, “Slut, slut, slut … oh! Naughty girl … Ugly … Boring …” I shake my head at her. Luckily, for once she has kept her voice down.

“Oh!!” she croons. “I think I found your outfit!”

“Me? Look for yourself, hon. I think I’ve found something here.” Before I can grab anything, she holds up the outfit of choice. I stare at it and narrow my eyes at her.

“Seriously?
Pretty Woman
much?”

She gasps as she clutches the incredibly revealing dress. “Hush your vile mouth! Julia Roberts was hot, and besides—” She raises her arms and points to my head, “—you have her hair.”

I raise my hand and give her the bird.

“See, you have the same attitude, too.” She pokes her tongue out at me. 

“The hell? So I’m a prostitute?” I hiss.

“Calm the fuck down, Princess. I was just joking. Geez, you need a man tonight. This dress isn’t slutty. It’s gorgeous. Give it a shot. Trust me. You will rock it.”

I look at it again and wonder if it will even cover my torso. “I think it’s a bit much for a bar that’s frequented by mostly uni students. Can I be a bit more subtle? I can’t even bend over in this!”

“Oh please,” she puffs.  “Julia could bend over, and so can you! This is a nun’s outfit compared to what those easy bar bitches wear.” She pokes my chest with the hanger, winding me.

“Now, go!”

I grab the dress and head to the change rooms, stomping all the way. I’m going to look desperate. As I undress, I kick my clothes in the corner while muttering ways of torturing Trinity later. Making her listen to some bubble-gum shit the next time we are in the car should do it, followed by shaving her head. Stepping into the dress, I keep my eyes lowered as I draw it up. I’m dreading what it will look like.

“So?” she calls out through the curtain. “How do you look?”

Eyes closed, I respond, “I haven’t done up the zip yet and I’m too scared to see.”

Before I can attempt anything farther with the dress, Trinity draws back the curtain and whistles, “Ohh eeee.” She zips up the dress while patting me on the back.

“You won’t be wearing a bra with this one as the back is low. You might need to wear those squishy fake boob things. Now, chicken shit, open your eyes.” 

I slowly open my eyes, stare into my reflection, and gasp. Holy hell. This dress is going to get some attention. I feel a smile spread across my face as I look at Trin in the mirror. “You, my dear, are forgiven and can keep your hair. I’m going braless. Now, let’s find you a dress and head on home. We have a dance floor to rock and hot guys to find!”

I look again at my reflection and grin. Alex won’t know what hit him, and I can’t wait to walk away.
You missed out, buddy.
This is going to be a fantastic night!

              By seven pm, both Trinity and I are ready to head out. Alex and Ty are in the lounge room drinking a few pre-drinks with the occasional, “How long does it take two chicks to get ready?” statement. I smile at Trinity; we know the guys are eager to get out. I’ve already shouted out a few times that we can meet them there, but they huffed and said they would wait.

Looking over at Trinity, she is wearing one of the non-bright outfits of Vertigo. It’s a sheer one-shouldered clingy dress that appears to be black, until she moves and then the dress shimmers in a deep purple glow. She has her black pumps on, and thick purple and black bangles on her wrists. Her hair is straight and her make-up smoky. She looks like a predator tonight.