So Much to Learn (41 page)

It wasn't fair,
it really wasn't.

Adam seemed to
notice that something was up with me, but he didn't pry and instead
did his best to keep me amused and occupied. I appreciated his
efforts more than I could say and decided, as I sat there sipping a
vodka and coke, that I would spend a lot more time with him. Not
only did I enjoy his company, but being with him would also give me
somewhere to escape to when all the madness amongst my small group
of friends got too much.

I returned back
to the flat reluctantly, hoping that Matt would have returned home
before me. No such luck. As I walked in through the door Jack
looked up from the kitchen table where he had sheafs of paper and
numerous textbooks scattered about and smiled tiredly.

"You've been
out late," he remarked innocently and I bristled immediately.

"So?" I
snapped. "It's not like it makes any difference to you." And, with
my daily bitchiness quota fulfilled, I stomped past him into my
room.

And that was
how the next week passed. I spent an inordinate amount of time at
Adam's place and, if anyone remarked on it, I told them it was so
Jack could study in peace. When I was at the flat I was irritable
and rude, the strain from keeping my distance from Jack something
akin to having knitting needles stuck repetitively in my back.

This feeling
eased briefly on the mornings of Wednesday and Thursday as I broke
my Jack-fast to give him quick, awkward hugs to wish him well with
the scholarship tests. Matt was present at both these times and I
held myself so stiffly the moment felt even worse than before Jack
had desensitised me somewhat to physical contact. I felt a little
thrill of panic at the idea that after everything it would have
been a total waste of time because I had relapsed.

Matt and I
stood in the car park waving Jack off on the Thursday morning,
feeling like parents waving goodbye to their child on their first
day of school. Neither of us could settle to anything for the rest
of the day, we just mooched around waiting for Jack to come back
and tell us how he had gone.

When we heard
his Ute pull into the car park late in the afternoon Matt and I
jumped to attention and pretty much ambushed Jack as he came
through the door. He was an unhealthy grey colour, but his eyes
were bright and he seemed to crackle with energy. At the sight of
him I felt my heart attempt to rip in two with some of it wanting
to sink in disappointment and the other half leap in
celebration.

"So, how'd it
go?" Matt asked, somewhat unnecessarily I thought considering the
answer was written all over Jack's face.

Jack shrugged
and grinned, "It was tough but I'm pretty sure I did alright."

"You blitzed
it!" Matt threw himself at Jack and they did a manly hug followed
by much pushing and thumping of backs.

"We'll see,"
Jack said modestly but Matt and I knew better. 'I'm pretty sure I
did alright' from the normally excessively modest Jack was akin to
anyone else swinging from the rafters shouting: 'I'm a genius!'
And, on top of the aptitude test and interview he'd had yesterday
during which the head of the scholarship program had told him that
he was exactly the kind of candidate they were looking for, it
seemed that Jack was a shoo-in and Cambridge bound.

~*~

The scholarship
hopefuls were due to be notified by phone on the Monday whether
they had been successful or not, so the three of us ploughed
through an uneasy and tense weekend during which we all prowled
around the flat feeling generally mentally untidy.

On the Monday
we all made the decision to blow off our classes and stay home to
hear the results and then either celebrate or commiserate. With the
home phone sitting on the middle of the kitchen table Matt, Jack
and I seated ourselves around it and proceeded to stare at it all
morning.

We said very
little and although we each had course work in front of us we
pretty much did nothing but stare at the phone willing it to ring
with good news. At about half 11, right about when I was
considering gnawing off my own left leg to help ease the tedium,
the phone emitted a shrill ring. We all jumped then stared
apprehensively first at the phone then at each other. When the
phone had rung three times more and Jack hadn't moved a muscle I
snapped out of my stupor and snatched up the phone.

"Hello?" I
said, rather breathlessly.

"Yes, hello,"
an officious voice said from the other end. "I was looking for a
Jack Whitby."

I couldn't help thinking '
a
Jack Whitby?' So it doesn't have to be a specific
one, just someone with that name? People who add extra, totally
unnecessary words just to sound knobby annoy me! Still, it was
perhaps the worst time in the world to debate a grammar point so I
ignored my annoyance. "He's just here, I'll pass you over," I said
in my best receptionist voice.

"Thank
you."

I put my hand
over the receiver and thrust the phone at Jack. "I think this is
it," I hissed. "For God’s sake take the damn phone!"

Jack reached out a trembling hand and took the phone off me as
if it were a bomb about to go off or, considering he's a boy and
boys like those kinds of things, perhaps a squalling baby,
yeah,
that
would
terrify him. Still, when he spoke, his voice was firm and
controlled. "This is Jack Whitby."

There was a
pause while the person on the other end said something that Matt
and I couldn't hear, despite the fact that we were pretty much
pressing ourselves up against the other side of the phone.

The
conversation seemed to go on for an inordinately long period of
time with Jack making occasional "Hmm" noises as if he was agreeing
with everything the person was saying. I desperately tried to
deduce whether they were good 'hmms' or bad ones but there really
was no telling.

Eventually,
after several minutes, masquerading as hours, had passed Jack broke
into a wide grin and said, his voice trembling with emotion, "Thank
you, I will. Thank you so much. Goodbye."

He pressed the off button on the phone and laid it carefully
down on the table in front of him. For one long second he simply
stared at the table top and then he lifted his head and let out a
scream of triumph, and I mean a
scream
! Matt and I both jumped and
then twin grins of sheer amazement split our faces as we looked at
each other and realised that Jack was letting off the pressure he
had carried around since he first applied for the scholarship. It
was such a bizarre thing to see Jack making a huge noise and
drawing attention to himself, but it seemed the healthiest thing in
the world to do at that moment and so the next second saw Matt and
I leaping out of our chairs and joining him.

The three of us
danced around the flat screaming various unintelligible things at
each other and grinning like loons.

Eventually we
ran out of breath and stopped jumping and screaming to stare at
each other, each of us red faced and breathing hard.

"So," Jack
said, breaking the loud silence, "I got it."

"No, really?" I
said sarcastically just as Matt said, mock innocently,

"Got what?"

There was
another pause and, slowly, the grins slipped from our faces to be
replaced with odd expressions akin to sadness but just a little
off. Maybe they were just serious, yeah, that's how I felt, totally
sombre.

The seconds
ticked by, the scene apparently having been put on mute by someone,
until Matt gave a little cough and then stepped forward to grab
Jack into a tight hug.

There was none
of the usual quick slaps and then release stuff the two of them
usually did, it was a bona fide hug and they clung to each other
fiercely as if they never wanted to let go. I felt tears spring to
my eyes and looked away, not only because it was a private moment
between the two of them but also because I knew it was the
beginning of the goodbyes.

They broke away
reluctantly and I could tell that Matt was horrified by the little
emotional scene he had just enacted by the way he squared his
shoulders and said, in a voice a little deeper than his normal
tone, "I'm going to call the others and we're going to drink the
pub dry." As he picked up the phone he turned back to Jack and
grinned. "This time it's my turn to get raving drunk, strip naked
and run through a hedge!"

Jack went a
little red at this, but chuckled ruefully as Matt began to dial the
numbers of the guys. Jack and I stood awkwardly looking at each
other as Matt barked down the phone, "Jack got it. Pub now." To
each of his friends. When he had finished he looked round at us
both and frowned. "Don't you want to congratulate Jack?" He asked
me pointedly and I shook myself out of the daze I'd been put in by
Jack's eyes and smiled tightly.

"Yes,
congratulations Jack." I hadn't realised what I'd done until both
Jack and Matt's eyes moved down and widened incredulously.
Following their line of vision I saw that I'd stuck my hand out as
if to shake Jack's hand. The formal gesture was patently ridiculous
and it was clear the boys thought so too. Still, I decided backing
out would look even weirder to Matt so I looked at Jack
determinedly and the next second he grasped my hand tightly in his
own.

Big
mistake!

Although I had
clearly thought a handshake would allow us to keep our distance I
hadn't thought about the meaning a simple handshake held for us. It
was the beginning of whatever it was that was going on between Jack
and me, the first time I got tingles, the first time connection
with a guy made me feel giddy and out of control in a good way.

As I felt the
power in his hand, the warmth of his palm against mine and the
faintest feeling of his pulse beating against my skin a whole raft
of memories whooshed through my mind. The lessons: the simplest
touch can sometimes be the most effective, sometimes no touching is
necessary at all, make sure he's in your head before he's in your
pants, be nice to the person you're trying to get into bed, if you
trust the guy you're with it can be OK to relax and let yourself
go, pick your location wisely, be prepared, and, finally, that
sometimes I needed to learn my own lessons. They each whirled
through my head making more and more sense. The last one was the
most poignant and I comforted myself in the fact that by backing
off and releasing Jack from his obligation from me I was learning a
lesson. That it was bloody hard!

The tears that
had welled up before increased tenfold and I gave a little choke
and pulled my hand away from Jack's just as the tears began to pour
down my cheeks. Staggering over to one of the dining chairs I
tucked my legs up against me and wiped at my face with my sleeves,
trying to stop the waterworks.

"Well that was
weird," Matt remarked, then as he fully took in my crumpled and
blotched face he added, "Aw come on now! This is a good thing
remember, a very good thing. Don't ruin it for him."

Not able to
speak I simply shook my head and attempted a smile to show that I
wasn't trying to ruin the moment for Jack. Matt made a noise of
disgust at my pathetic girly show and grabbed Jack by the shoulder.
"Right, we'd better leave her to mop up, we're expected at the
pub."

"You go on,"
Jack said, his gaze never wavering from me. "I'm going to call your
parents and tell them I got the scholarship, I wouldn't have done
it without them. Or you," He added, his words indicating that he
meant Matt and me both but his eyes telling me that at that moment
his thanks were for me alone. This did not, however, make me feel
any better.

"Sure thing,"
Matt said easily. "See you down there."

And he grabbed
his jacket and left, leaving the door open behind him as he so
often did when he knew that someone would be going through it soon
after him. When I used to take him up on this he would explain that
it was an energy saving device. Are there no lengths of laziness
boys will go to?

Jack and I
listened to Matt's footsteps echo through the building's stairwell
and then the heavy door on the ground floor slam in the wind after
his exit. I was still trying to get my floods of tears under
control and turned my face away from Jack as seeing him looking so
perfect just made me want to cry more. The next second, however, a
box of tissues floated into my line of sight and I looked up to see
Jack holding it out to me, apology written all over his face. I
sighed and grabbed some tissues to clean myself up, mumbling past
the soft sheets, "Don't look like that Jack, the worst thing you
could do for both me and you right now is apologise for winning the
scholarship. We both worked too hard for it to be sorry it
happened."

There, that was
a suitably mature speech I thought. My calm words transferred some
of their power to my internal weakness and, within a couple of
seconds, I had pulled myself together sufficiently to take the wad
of tissues away from my face and give Jack a tremulous smile.

"I'm really
happy for you."

Jack snorted
and gestured towards the wet lump of my discarded tissues. "So I
see," he said in a gently sarcastic tone.

"Don't, Jack,"
I said quietly and firmly, straightening up and dropping my legs
back down off the chair. "You know how glad I am that you proved
yourself to your dad and yourself and I know that it’s important to
you to get away."

Jack looked at
me steadily for a long moment then grabbed another chair and
dragged it over in front of me so that when he sat down on it his
legs touched mine. He laid his hands gently on my thighs and leant
forwards so there was no missing his intensity or integrity as he
said, "My going isn't about leaving you."