Star-Crossed (10 page)

B
uzz buzz… Buzz buzz… Buzz buzz…

You reach over and hit your alarm clock so the annoying sound stops.

A grunting, rustling sound comes from the floor, and you turn, startled, knocking your hardback of the latest Harry Potter off your bedside table.

“Ow! That's heavy!” Rubes stares up from his sleeping bag with bleary, unfocused eyes. “I hope you don't wake up all your guests like this, babe.”

You hardly hear him. Suddenly you feel quite sick. As Reuben sits up, you start to remember why you have a visitor in your room. You pick up the heavy book, which now feels more like a brick. Images flash before your eyes as your head pounds.

I do
not
want to leave this bed ever again
…

The memories seem to have found a sequence. You remember crying and crying on Reuben's shoulder, then you both coming back home to yours and ordering a pizza. Your parents were away last night. Your sister was in, but she stayed out of the way, like she usually does when you have company. Rubes was supportive, but you were still upset; so you took a bottle of Polish vodka that had a good few shots left in it, and brought it upstairs when Rubes was on the phone to his mum, telling her that he would be staying over. She didn't mind because he often sleeps at yours – he even has his own drawer in your room with pyjamas and stuff.

Ohhhhh…
you think.
I remember that … urgh … vodka… What made me think that it was a good idea?
Your head seems to thump a little more. But that's not the end of it.

Your brain slurs the next few scenes of last night. You remember having pizza and watching
Not Another Teen Movie
. You remember laughing a lot, and downing more and more shots of vodka, much more than Rubes, until the two of you finished what was there and you tried to get up and go to bed, but fell into a pile on your floor, giggling.

“Jen?” You remember Reuben's worried tone. You had tried to look into his eyes, at his face, but he had kept on floating out of focus.

“Jen?”

It had seemed like he had said it over and over again.

As if it's a movie, you see Reuben's face nearing yours, and you feel your lips puckering up and softly brushing his. You remember thinking that you love Rubes and that all you want to do is kiss him. You, in the memory, lean forward and crash your lips with Reuben's. You remember him pulling away, shocked, and saying, “What are you
doing
, Jen?!” You then realized what you had done, like snapping out of a trance, and stammered a reply.

“I … I … I don't know … I'm so … confused…”

Your mind feels like a food blender; all of your thoughts cut up and swirling around. An image of you throwing up in a toilet and Rubes patting you sympathetically on the back flashes across your closed eyelids.

And that's all you can remember.

You sigh as you shake your head to clear your brain, but it just makes your head hurt more.

“Hey, my confused lil' alcoholic,” says Rubes, smiling from the floor. You want to cry all over again.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” you whisper, unable to look at him because of your embarrassment.

“Because you're my best friend, you're in a mess and I hope and I pray you didn't mean to kiss me last night?” he offers.

You smile, and the tears fade from your eyes. “Sorry.” Your voice is dry, but your apology is deeply meant.

Rubes gets up, grabs your hand and pulls you up sharp, making your head rush. You clutch your forehead and groan, lying back down.

“Nope!” he says with glee. “Shower! Coffee! School! Then we are going to go to Walker and ask her if you can have another part in the play? Yes?”

You groan again, letting Rubes haul you into the disinfectant-smelling bathroom and into the shower.

“You smell terrible. Shower,” Rubes orders. “And I will recycle this” – he holds up the vodka bottle – “and I'm going to get us some Pop-Tarts and we are going to go down to The Caf and have ourselves a nice big mochaccino! Yes?”

You grunt in agreement. “Do I have to see Walker?” you ask reluctantly.

“Yeeeeeeeees!” Rubes says with a flourish, closing the door behind him.

This time the pounding water doesn't soothe you, it just increases the headache. You shower quickly and change, heading for Reuben and the Pop-Tarts downstairs. The smell makes your stomach turn over, but you walk out of the door at double speed, letting the cold winter's air hit your face and whip back your hair, a welcome distraction from your headache and the day ahead.
How am I meant to face Walker feeling like this?
you think incredulously.

The pair of you enter The Caf, finding the table that you usually occupy and plonking yourselves down. Reuben's eyes flit over to the tills, where the hot waiter guy usually is, but today he's a no-show. Rubes sighs with puppy-dog eyes, his brows knitted together in a slight sad frown, and picks up a small pack of sugar, tearing at it distractedly. You smile and put on your best cheesy American accent.

“Honey, honey,
honey
,” you say, taking his chin in your right hand. “If you're gonna sit there lookin' like a wet mop, then next time I'll leave ya at home.”

He smiles weakly at you in an absent kind of way and goes back to his shredding.

“He's just so pretty!” he whispers solemnly.

You smile sympathetically. “Then tell him. That's all you need to do. Tell him.”

He shakes his head, violently, like a little boy who has just been told that if he doesn't stop hitting his baby sister then his Action Man will no longer be in action.

“No! What if I'm wrong, and he's straight? He'll just laugh and I will lose all confidence in myself, and I will never love again.”

You smile.
So like Rubes to play the tragic lover
, you think.
Maybe that's why we're such good friends
.

“Reuben – get a grip. You know why Romeo and Juliet got together?” He looks at you blankly. You sigh exasperatedly. “Because Juliet declared her love for him on her balcony. What if she hadn't done that, huh? They might not have got it on!”

Rubes looks confused. “But hang on, she didn't know he was there when she confessed her everlasting love for him.”

You pause, knowing that he is right, but not letting on. “Yes, but she still said it. And he still heard it. So: what do you have to do?”

You raise your eyebrows and Rubes still stares at you, puzzled. “Stand on a balcony in a dress and cry out to the empty night that ‘I love Cute Waiter Guy'?”

You grin. “Close. You have tell him you like him, Rube. You know you must, don't you?”

He shrugs, nodding slightly but still looking troubled.

“What's wrong now?” you ask.

He looks up at you with serious eyes, as if he's about to cry. You frown and study him closely.

“Fine. But only if I get to wear the dress!”

You laugh, he grins naughtily, and you go to the tills to order your drinks.

“No foam!!” Rubes calls after you.

You wave to him over your shoulder to show that you heard, and reach the desk. The punk-Goth girl behind the counter has short, jet-black hair all spiked up and enough earrings in her ears to go around twenty people. She has earphones in even though there is music playing in the café, and she is picking at her bright pink nails. She sees you, smiles warmly, and saunters over to serve you. You recognize her as the girl who played in a band at the summer concert last year.

What's her name…? Mandy? Mary?
you think, but can't remember. She is a few years older than you, but she recognizes you anyway.

“Jen Anderson, right? You sang at the last school concert,” she says.

You nod and smile. You had sung “Fever” and it was quite cool. The girl offers her hand and you shake it.

“It's Mina, isn't it? Mina Tucker?” you say, suddenly remembering how at the concert Mina's band, Chaos, had introduced themselves. You remember how good they were, and how different and original Mina's voice had been.

Mina smiles wryly. “Yeah. So what'll it be, Jen?”

“Mochaccino, no foam, and one large coffee – my senses need a boost.”

Mina cocks an eyebrow as she makes you your drinks. “Rough night?” she says suggestively.

“My throat feels like sandpaper and my head feels like a washing machine on speed.”

She laughs slightly, and you can see her tongue piercing as it clicks delicately on her teeth. “Drowning your sorrows?”

You think back to yesterday's events and inwardly cringe. “You could say that.”

Mina brings you over the mochaccino, and you pull out your purse.

“Um…” Mina starts, but then hesitates.

“What?” you reply.

She brings over your coffee, and drops the volume of her voice to a dramatic whisper. “Your friend…” She nods over to where Rubes is seated at the back of the busy room. He's the only one who's not moving – who is not chatting, or singing along or bobbing his head in time to the music. Instead, he's slowly shredding the sugar packet, staring at the wall like the living dead.

Just like Rubes to be so dramatic
 …
not that
I
can talk
…

You turn back to Mina, smiling.

“Yeah, Reuben. What about him?”

She leans in and lowers her voice even lower. “He is…” says Mina quietly. She bites her lip. “He is … he is gay … isn't he?”

She looks so worried that she might be wrong that you have to laugh.

“Yeah. Yeah he is.” You can't tell whether she is disappointed or trying not to laugh. “Disappointed?”

She laughs and shakes her head. “No. Well, yeah, kinda, but this isn't about that.” A smile creeps on to her face.

Definitely not disappointed.

“Why'd you ask?”

Her mouth twitches as she decides whether to tell you or not.

“Do you know my mate J?”

You search your mind but come up a blank, and shrug. “I don't know. Should I?”

Mina smiles. “Yeah! He's in here most mornings – the earlybird shift? Don't tell me you haven't noticed him.”

Realization hits you and you blush.
Hot Waiter Guy? Forgot he had a real name!
you think. You laugh too, grinning sheepishly.

“Er … yeah. I, er, know who you mean…”
He's the reason me and Rubes come here every day … but let's be nonchalant about this
, you think.

Mina smiles a secret smile. “Well … I'll tell you a something.
My
friend likes
your
friend.”

You raise an eyebrow and grin. “Really?”

She nods excitedly. “But that's not all.
My
friend wants to ask
your
friend if—”

“Talking about me again, Meen?” J comes out from the kitchen, tying an apron around his waist and smiling at the two of you. You feel like melting.
He really is incredibly hot
…

Mina smiles at you and turns to J. “Actually –
yes
.” She turns and winks at you. You smirk. “We're just discussing your Plan.”

J's perfect face goes pink and he stops smiling. “‘My Plan'? What are you, erm…” He coughs slightly. He's so embarrassed that you really want to start laughing now. “What are you talking about, Mina?” He looks at you, then looks across the room to Reuben, then back to you. “I don't have, I mean, I don't want to, that is, I, erm…”

Mina grins at you and you smile. You look up at J and smile comfortingly. “Full name is Reuben James Lucan. He likes hockey, drama and watches a lot of rugby. He's addicted to coffee, wakes up way too early and loves loud music.” J stares at you for a second in disbelief, then over at Reuben's turned back, biting his lip. His eyes flick back to you.

“Is he free tonight?”

You shrug. “Why don't you ask him yourself?”

He sighs and looks to Mina, who nods. J walks out from behind the bar and winds his way through the crowd over to the table. He takes Reuben's mochaccino with him as an excuse. You and Mina watch as J says something to Reuben, who looks up from his shredding and goes a shade of pink identical to J's. J sits down at the table and you turn back to Mina.

“Is Chaos playing tonight?”

She nods. “Yeah, we are. Come along, you're completely welcome.” She looks over the crowd at the two boys, and so do you. They're already laughing and chatting like they've known each other for years. “It looks like Reuben should have the details, so come along and enjoy the music!”

Reuben and J are coming back towards you, the two of them grinning.

“You ready to go?” Reuben asks you, very calmly.

You want to give him a huge hug, but restrain yourself and shrug. “Yeah, of course.” You pick up your takeaway coffee and nod at the other two. “See you later.”