The Numbers Game (32 page)

            “I guess
our disappearing act was rude, and so was not following up on a promise, seeing
as I always keep promises. What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Would a
kiss be asking for too much?”

            Enrique
unleashed his irresistible smile again and Serena wondered how or if she could
ever escape. If she wanted to escape that is. But the truth was at this moment
(two thirty four on Monday morning the Grandfather clock revealed) and with no
work tomorrow, she was happy to be nestled in an Enrique’s embrace. Wasn’t that
the best way to get over an old flame, to replace him with another?

            “Okay,
just one kiss,” she said, biting her bottom lip.

            It wasn’t
often that she played with fire but the thought was now seductive. New lips
gently pressed against hers made Serena feel like a wayward schoolgirl, a
schoolgirl who had just hatched from the cumbersome egg and was fingering
freedom for the first time in her life.

The kissing quickly
progressed to something more; as is customary.

            “Is there
somewhere we can go that’s a little more private?” Enrique whispered, in
between heavy breaths. His arms were wrapped tightly around Serena’s waist but
the pressure in his arms could hardly compare with that coming from his pants.

            “Like
upstairs?” Serena asked, motioning to the staircase with her head.

            It was
rather noisy down there in the living room.  The party attendees showed no
signs of going home; in fact it looked like in the past fifteen minutes a mini
people explosion had taken place. With the front door now wide open, young men
and women were streaming in and out, not all of them on foot either. As far as
Serena could see, two Swedish-looking blondes had just been carried out on the
shoulders of Dominique and Ramiro. Nice to see the boys were pining away for
their lost lamb-who-was-now-a-fox.

            “Upstairs
is good,” Enrique smiled.

            “I don’t
know,” Serena said, pulling the requisite resistance trick.  “If I go up with
you, I might do something I regret.”

            At that
Enrique frowned.

            “Have you
ever done something with me that you regret?”

            “Maybe.”

            Serena
couldn’t quite bring herself to say yes. He had after all been the best of the
four, the most gentle and kind.

            “Then you
are right. Best we stay down here and let all these people keep you safe.”

            “No!”
Serena exclaimed. She grabbed his collar and pulled it close to her chest. What
sort of game was he playing at, she wanted to cry.
You’re a guy and are
supposed to be completely wooing me. I’m a girl and am supposed to battling my
eyelashes and stamping my feet. Woo me more! Woo me more,
her eyes pleaded.

            “Does that
mean you want to go upstairs?”

            Serena
nodded like a dog salivating over a big hard bone. Or was that more like a
horny girl salivating over a big hard bone?

            “Then take
my hand.”

            Using his
inbuilt sex spot radar, Enrique found the spare bedroom, Serena’s room, with no
instructions. Surprisingly no other hot and bothered couple had claimed it for
themselves. It had to be fate. Before Enrique could even sit on the futon,
Serena pushed off all the rumpled clothes and tried to daintily shove them
underneath the bed but no good; that led to visible lumps the size of Mount
Everest. Retrieving the clothes and kicking them into the cupboard instead
seemed like the next best thing. No point in making a futon any more
uncomfortable than it already was.

            All this
time Serena hadn’t thought once about Jasper, until Enrique put his hand on her
breast. Something went off in her head then, a little gremlin which groused:
hang on, that’s Jasper’s breast, it isn’t there for another man to touch.

            “I…”
Serena pushed Enrique’s hand away to better explain.  The alcohol sloshing
around in her head was heavy now, and the heaviness made her feel woozy.

            “Too much
too soon?” he guessed.

            “Yes,”
Serena murmured, falling back into the mattress. There was a shoe still under
there she thought and it was sticking into her spine.

            “How about
you just rest then and let me do all the work.”

            Enrique
reached down to graze her already exposed belly-button with his lips. For a
second there his nose and cheeks simply nuzzled her skin, but then he began
planting perfect rows of seedling kisses along the valley of her waist.  Serena
loved it; not only was it so damn relaxing but the tickly feeling went straight
to her toes. She tried to savor every second of the experience; men were
notorious for stopping abruptly right in the middle of a good thing. But
Enrique showed no signs of giving up; he was in fact ever so slowly working his
way down south.

            “Do you
mind?” he said, pausing at the buckle of Serena’s hot pants.

            Serena
shook her head. “Not at all,” she whispered. 

            She wasn’t
stupid; she knew exactly what having no bottoms on entailed. But the thought of
a gentle licking tongue enticed her on. This was what women really want, Serena
decided with a whooping sigh. If it came down to sex being only about this –
self-indulgent taking - and nothing else women would be worse than men a
hundredfold in the sleaze stakes. They would be pulling men off the streets and
begging for them to do it, as long as it involved lots of one-way tongue
action.

            Then came
the fatal flaw in her hypothesis; not long after Enrique buried his head
between Serena’s legs she started feeling those funny feelings. They rushed up
through her stomach; slow at first until eventually it was like a faucet had
exploded. Only it wasn’t water charging her body but pheromones, the omnipotent
sex hormones which made one want to streak against a footy field in the nude or
leave their full-time job to become a lap dancer.

            Serena
really was now powerless. If Enrique tried to walk away without so much as
putting his thing inside she would have gone running after him. Pathetic how
again she was begging for it, when it should have been the other way around.
But that was what happened in the heat of the moment. In the heat, just like
how one contracts sunstroke after a day in the sun, a girl lost temporary full
function of her brain. She wasn’t thinking about things like tomorrow or even
an hour away. If she did, Serena might’ve done things differently.

            Because
the last thing she was expecting, when their quick yet strangely satisfying shagging
was over and Enrique mentioned that his friends might actually be waiting for
him, was to go downstairs and see the sight she saw. It was nearly five in the
morning by then and outside the sky was that dusty purple color that one rarely
sees. Everyone was gone and not even a mouse nor Tabitha were to be seen in the
shocking party aftermath. So much for Ramiro and Dominique waiting for Enrique;
they’d probably run off the first chance they had with the Swedish Barbie
twins. Empty bottles, crumpled up Playboys photos, and penile looking pink Frankfurt sausages were all squashed and trodden on underfoot. It would take days to clean
the crap, at the very least.

            Enrique
had already pulled out his cell phone to call for a cab when Serena saw the
envelope. It was sitting there on the tall chocolate table by the front door,
white and crispy looking with Enrique’s name scrawled across the front. In
Tabitha’s handwriting. 

“What
the…” Serena took it into her hands and looked at Enrique questioningly.

            He was too
busy talking to the cab operator and informing them of Tabitha’s house number
and street. When he put his tiny phone back into his pocket, Enrique looked up
at Serena and smiled. Then he frowned when he saw the envelope in his hands.

            “Do you know
what happens to be in this envelope?”  Serena asked suspiciously. She felt a sickly
I-need-to-vomit-right-now feeling creep up into her throat.

            “No,” he
replied quietly. It was as if he was guessing between left and right door, one
leading to a million dollars, the other to death.

            “Shall we
open it then?”

            “I don’t
think that would be a good idea.” Enrique reached forward and tried to grab the
envelope from her hands but Serena had already ripped it open.

            She looked
inside and felt herself plunge into an abyss of Rage and Confusion. In the
sleeve, there were five fifty dollars bills and a scrap of paper staring back
at her. She pulled the scrap out and tossed the rest onto the floor.

            Enrique
tried to reach for the paper again but she put her hand up to stop him.

            “Don’t,”
Serena said firmly. It sounded a bit like the voice of a demon.

            She opened
the sheet and quietly read it. Of course, that was why he was so desperate to
get his slimy fingers onto it. There in non-deceiving print was the following
greeting:

            Congratulations.
Here is the money as promised.

            I’m sure
Serena thanks you grandly for the good time in the sack.

     Unable to control
herself, Serena crumpled it up again and shoved it down the front of Enrique’s
pants. Then she walked upstairs, shaking at the limbs; Enrique could escort
himself out and wait for the cab on his own, as far as she cared.

PART
2: THE SWAP

As Serena stood
outside the house, she thought about how different she was from the woman who
walked out that door six weeks ago. Six weeks ago! It felt more like a
lifetime. The suitcase at her feet might have weighed the same but Serena was
definitely bringing home a lot more baggage.

            Thank God
Markie was not going to be inside. In the end, after the fiasco with Tabitha
and Enrique the night before, she had responded to Markie’s pleasant message
left on Tabitha’s answering machine with a quick text to his cell phone.
I
will be there at ten, please be gone by then.
Serena didn’t feel one bit
guilty about popping that balloon of Markie’s, his idea of having a casual
coffee together nestled inside. Why should she? She didn’t see any purpose of
them two sitting together and pretending everything was okay when it so
obviously wasn’t.    

            For
starters, Serena was not in the mood for niceties. She was in the mood to kick
some teeth in or at the very least push a lot of Humpty Dumpty eggs off a
cliff. That cow Tabitha paying boys to take her into bed! She couldn’t believe
it; the very thought of it still made her blood boil to the extent a raw egg on
her tummy would be fried in two seconds flat. It was worse… it was worse than
if she had requested the money herself. God only knew what Tabitha was thinking
in her head. Sure Serena would love to know but she would never bring herself
to ask.

            At
daybreak, after slamming the door behind Enrique shut, Serena had stomped
upstairs, straight to her room. She made sure to create as much disturbance as
possible, banging cupboard drawers, dropping heavy vanity items onto the floor,
flicking on all the hallway lights. Tabitha, in her haste to get to bed
probably, had left her own bedroom door wide open and Serena could spy her
spread-eagled across the top like the Blair Witch Project symbol. She twitched
only slightly as Serena picked up a bottle of hair gloss and threw it against
the wall again.

            “Screw this,”
Serena had decided, as she surveyed the mess in her room. “I can’t pack without
listening to bloody music.” 

            Serena
then jogged downstairs, making sure to jump on all the creaky steps and rustled
through the pile of daggy CDs Tabitha had left out. They included the most
ridiculous of the ridiculous and Serena took her time choosing between New Kids
on the Block and Bros. Which one would make a person feel super-duper chirpy
this early in the morning while also doing the sunrise justice?

            Oh it
would actually have to be Rick Astley! He had that beautiful deep voice, which
sent shivers down the spine, especially when played at full notch.

            Tabitha
eventually stumbled her way into Serena’s room, eyes half open, before Rick
even got a chance to sing “I’m Never Gonna Give You Up” chorus.

            “Serena,
can you please turn that down. Not only is it still night-time but I’m actually
trying to sleep.”

            “You think
I give a flying hoot?” Serena had replied, glaring at Tabitha as if she were
adorned in KKK gear.

            At the
time more elaborate abuse was hurling through her head a hundred miles an hour.
You bitch, you bloody lowlife traitor, I hope bloody maggots eat away at
your empty heart
, etcetera. But Serena kept them all to herself. It took
much effort but really what was the point of completely losing control when it
wouldn’t change a thing? Tabitha was still going to be her ex-best friend.
Nothing she could do or say would make everything all right. Her latest ruse
was unforgivable.