Jessie

by Karen Botha

  Our hips are still swaying to the music, but I don’t hear it, consumed instead by the bulge which is pressing into my stomach and the burn that it creates between my legs. I’m distinctly aware of how our hearts beat to the same rhythm, and how his breath whispers across my lips, so close is his face to mine.

  I wait, that moment where time is suspended, where reality is suspended and there’s only him, Zac, consuming my entire world while supplying everything I need.

  It feels like I’ve been craving him for an eternity such is the intensity of my reaction to his intimacy, rather than the twelve hours it’s been since we first met.

  When our noses brush, I smell the strong scent of too much champagne. Our lips meet. Our skin brushes and I can finally relax. His touch is gentle, his mouth closed, as it presses against mine. My arms, which had somehow made it around his waist, move up until my hands rest by his shoulder blades. ‘Don’t let that be it,’ I scream silently to him.

  He listens as he leans against me, but this time firmer. We’ve stopped moving, totally unaware of the music, now entirely absorbed in each other. The stubble on his chin prickles against my skin as I meet his strength, parting my lips, allowing us to breathe the same air.

  Adrenaline is coursing through my veins. His heart beats against my chest as he grabs me, pulling me into a tight embrace. A flash of electricity lights up my insides as he inhales and our tongues meet, colliding into each other, greedy to be touched.

  The power of being intimate with him, inside him as he is me, is enough to make my head swim and the rest of the world wash away. As we give in to the emotion that has been torturing us since we met, our power to stop our passion is all but impossible.

  Our hands discover the other as our tongues intertwine. I rest my hands in the arc at the base of his spine ahead of where his butt fleshes out into a toned mound of muscle. The tingle between my legs rushes to my heart, catching my breath as our mouths part from their tangle and our eyes connect before he rests his cheek against mine. His chin bristles against the soft skin of my face, alighting my nerves.

  We move together as one for a few moments, just enjoying the intimacy of being truly with someone who feels the same. We rock back and forth as the tide of our hearts ebbs and flows.

  He takes my hand and holds it out to the side, as we float to the vibes of the band’s music. It’s as though there is no one else around. But, they are.

  “Shall we find somewhere more private?” He whispers into my ear without needing to move.

  I move my head up and down against his. It’s enough of an answer.

  As we break the seal between us, he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me against his side. Our hips fasten together so we make our way from the dance floor as one unit.

  “I’m so pleased I got on that plane today,” he says.

  I giggle, like a teenager. The blush heats my neck and then my cheeks. Thank goodness the light is dim out here. “I am too. You know I wasn’t pleased when you first boarded though, I was hoping to have the space for myself.”

  I reach up and our lips brush again. His mouth grins against mine. “I could tell.”

  “Stop it.” The scream is too loud to be far away. It’s uncomfortably close by.

  My eyes fly open as I’m manhandled from within Zac’s embrace. Our eyes lock, as we both register the shock of a new commotion.

  Ryan, never one for being shy with the weights, has a hold of Zac who staggers back just as Ryan’s fist connects with his jaw. Already off balance, he hits the deck, and it’s only at that point, when Greg somehow materializes and pulls Ryan free that I tune into what is going on.

  “You leave her alone, you slimy piece of chicken shit.” Ryan is screaming. His cheeks are red, his forehead crumpled in an angry frown. I observe him as though an outsider; he looks more irate than I’ve ever seen him.

  “Are you OK?” Kyle places his hand on my shoulder, his face a picture of concern.

  “Sure, what’s going on?” I ask.

  “I’ll tell you what’s going on. Two hours ago, he was after Kyle’s gorgeous cousin over there.” He waves his hand which is still balled in a fist. “When she gave him the elbow, he thought he could get with you tonight. Well, it’s not happening.” Spittle escapes Ryan’s mouth as he screams his response at me.

  Shit, Ryan is right. For all his overprotective hotheadedness, that is exactly what Zac has done. And while that wouldn’t normally bother me, today I’ve experienced emotions which are different to how I’ve ever felt. And they are not conducive to me moving on without a glance back. Zac is different. And so I must behave differently.

  Zac

  The hotheaded Mo-Fo who fancies himself for a boxer can hit pretty hard. But, my swelling jaw is the least of my concerns. Jessie turns on her heel and stalks off in a half-march-half-run kind of way. “Order me the boat please, Kyle.” I hear as she heads off in the opposite direction without so much as checking how I am.

  It hurts.

  Did I imagine the sparks between us? Am I willing about a connection because it’s what I want to happen?

  The thought passes through my mind before I’ve had a chance to remind myself that this whole relationship drama is not what I want. We’ve barely met and we’re already surrounded by chaos. I’m famously single and for good reason.

  Until I’ve built my future, love is not in the cards. So, what was I thinking?

  I rub my cheek and hoist myself off the ground. It’s pulsing as heat rushes there to heal the damage Ryan and his fist caused. The commotion is still continuing around me, Ryan is continuing his aggressive huffing and puffing as someone tries to calm him.

  “I can’t believe you hit me, you fucking baboon,” I scream in his face. It’s a bit embarrassing because is that really the best I can come up with when this guy who’s had it in for me all night finally finds an excuse, and a lame one at that, to punch me. But that’s what comes out of my mouth.

  The laugh which comes out of his is insulting, and only serves to highlight my poor selection of words. Nevertheless, the point has been made that I am not happy to be smashed in the face with his fist, just because he takes it upon himself to be Jessie’s protector.

  My gaze falls beyond them, searching out Jessie. She’s at the edge of the clearing, about to make her way back down the banking to the speed boat which will take her, where?

  I didn’t ask whether she was staying at the house with everyone. We didn’t get that far.

  Sadness eats away heavily at the pit of my stomach. What if I don’t see her again? But then, will that really be such a bad thing? She and her crazy group of friends are one big disaster waiting to happen. So, why not just let her go?

  It’s not like I came here looking for love, and if I allow her to walk away, well, I’ll be over her within a week. That is the best course of action.

  It’s with a leaden heart that I turn my back on where she’s running off to. I zone out the thugs still trying to calm the wayward Ryan down, and instead concentrate on giving a flying whatever about having a good night.

  Zac

  I watch guests moving in an increasingly drunken fashion on the dance floor. It should be amusing. But it’s so fucking dreary. My mind is consumed by Jessie and I can’t snap out of it.

  What if I let her go and I never see her again? Elliott and Kyle are unlikely to let me have her number after tonight. If I let her walk, I will never know how this thing between us should pan out.

  What’s the point in having financial success without someone to share it with? I answer my own question: freedom.

  But, at the same time, surely freedom is about allowing yourself to be with someone if you choose.

  It takes me a split second to process this before I’m hightailing it past her overprotective mob.

  "Jessie!" She doesn't hear me through all the commotion, her head is down.

  I jerk to a standstill, someone has a tight grip on my arm. “Leave it.”

  I sha
ke, trying to loosen his restraint, without taking my eyes from Jessie. His fingers dig deeper and amidst the pandemonium I have the presence of thought to consider how hard this brick shit-house must work out.

  “Let her go,” he speaks again, his tone level.

  I spin round, anger burning my words, “Who are you to decide who I, or she for that matter, hangs out with?” I rattle my arm again.

  His grasp is tight, but out of nowhere, he lets go. His unexpected release, combined with my forward motion has me stumbling forward. I catch my finger on a jagged edge buried in the ground, but it’s a sting, it’s insignificant. What's important is that Jessie has now left. The boat will have arrived already, and she'll be who knows where on dry land somewhere by the time I can catch up.

  I stagger, struggling to stand and run, but my captor is not done yet. He blocks me, holding both of my biceps in his huge hands. His voice is raised when he speaks again, “I said let her go. You’re a fucking player. We’re not going to let anyone hurt Jessie, so forget her.”

  “Except that you’re the ones hurting her by being so damn overprotective,” I spit back.

  It makes no difference; the stupid, fucking, dim-witted blockhead doesn’t move.

  Jessie

  I am so hot under the collar right now as a bunch of mixed emotions make it impossible for me to think clearly.

  Plus, I’ve left Elliott and Kyle’s wedding early. Not only did I show up late, now I’m the one who’s sitting alone at the bottom of the bank, alone.

  The tears burst loose like water from a dam. I hadn’t recognized I’d been swallowing them down, but when the salty droplets run over my trembling chin, the dam walls which had been holding me steady, give way. It’s silent where I am, circled by trees and the moonlight.

  Everyone is still off loving the party while I’m left abandoned with a void in my core. I fold my arms around myself, trying to thaw through the misery in my soul, from the frustration that well-meaning friends can inadvertently destroy such potential with the influence of their goodwill.

  But, if Zac and I were meant to be, he would have followed me. We’d be chatting this out in privacy having fled together from pandemonium of my co-workers’ possessiveness.

  But, he hasn’t.

  He’s nowhere to be seen. And although I crane my neck to look for his silhouette at the top of the ridge, I know deep down that he won’t show now.

  Something is niggling me though. If Zac and I are supposed to be together, could Ryan’s interference prevent the inevitable?

  I’m going around in circles like a mad dog and making about as much sense. Venting my resentment into the black of the night feels healthy, but the exertion brings my breath in painful showers. I rise, hands balled at my waist, panting like that mad dog and looking out to the twinkling lights on the mainland.

  I really do not know what I need except that I don’t want to be left on the outside of one of the biggest days of my friends’ lives, because some idiots I work with have designs on how I should run my relationships.

  Zac, or no Zac, I will not be left out of this celebration. It’s not even like those guys are as good a friend as I am with Elliott, anyway, so what the heck am I doing down here, bawling like the girl they’re pegging me for.

  I am strong and I will not be monopolized by any man, no matter how well-meaning his intentions.

  My legs are firm as I turn on my heel, digging into the dry ground beneath me. Whereas earlier in the day I’ve struggled to mount these bankings, now, I hop up with no effort, fueled by anger and purpose.

  Zac

  I assume they think Jessie will have left by now because they release me with an order to “remain at the party.”

  Seriously? I’ve never known anything more ridiculous in my life. Who are they, the bloody relationship mafia? Even if I am just using her, Jessie is a big girl, I’m sure she will be fine.

  I bet, if she were their real sister, they wouldn’t be so protective. It strikes me that these dickheads have more ardent affections for her, than they’re letting on. While that pisses me off, because it means they’ll always be a complication, it also tells me that my instincts about Jessie are bang on. If she’s so popular with people who spend so much time with her, then she must be a keeper.

  Emma, the center of most of this aggravation, is seated quietly at the side. She’s alone, undoubtedly trying to keep a low profile.

  Screw it.

  I plonk down next to her.

  “You OK?” she asks.

  “Sure, bunch of animals, the lot of them.”

  We sit, a companionable silence hanging in the air between us.

  “How’s your dad?” she asks after a few minutes.

  “Ah, he’s OK. I don’t get to see that much of him, with, well, you know...”

  She nods. “Hmm.”

  “Your mom?”

  “Same really. I do see her, but she’s, well, you know...”

  I nod.

  Couples are starting to filter back onto the dance floor now and we observe as bodies sway to the beat. They’re a little less in time to said beat than they were earlier in the day and I nonchalantly consider how many bottles of champagne Elliott and Kyle have gone through. This whole spectacle makes you wonder about the intelligence of providing a free bar.

  “What the fuck?” The voice is way more recognizable than I’m comfortable with.

  “Jessie?”

  “The boys are right! I’m gone two minutes and you’re with your second choice. Or am I wrong. Am I number two? Please, do tell, Zac?”

  I’m on my feet quicker than a WWF fighter on a countdown. I touch her elbow before she snatches it away. “Don’t speak to me.”

  “Shit!”

  Emma now also stands. “You don’t understand. Come and sit with us.”

  Her voice must hit home because Jessie stops her stalking. She doesn’t turn, but she’s taking notice. Emma shuffles to stand beside her. “Listen to what he’s got to say. You’ve taken it all wrong.”

  Now Jessie turns. First she faces Emma, her eyes wavering left to right as she tries to work out whether she’s telling the truth. Then she spins toward me, giving me the same intense scrutiny.

  “What don’t I understand? I saw you with my own eyes. As soon as I was out of the picture, you’re back with her.” She points at Emma and contorts her mouth in a way which is way angrier than called for.

  I don’t know why I’m making so much effort, but even though Jessie’s behaving like a mental case, there’s still something that draws me to her.

  Jessie

  I’m so angry I’m shaking. I notice my fingers clenched into a fist and make a concerted effort to release them. They ache with the tension as they spread out again. My words catch in my throat and even though I go to speak, nothing comes out.

  Instead, I sit. And wait. Let them start this conversation.

  Apparently her name is Emma. She sits next to me, and I’m flanked on the other side by Zac.

  “We are not romantically entangled. Our parents were for a while. They met through Kyle. He’s my cousin and when he and Elliott had a housewarming party, our parents met and got on.”

  Emma looks past me to Zac.

  “Emma is Kyle’s cousin. So, as you can imagine we all got to know each other pretty well.”

  “Oh, it looks like it.” I sneer.

  Emma laughs at that point. It’s not a raucous laugh that thunders out of her lungs, but it’s a laugh nevertheless. Her amusement at me reddens my cheeks.

  “You think this is entertaining?” My tone is sharp, my words clipped.

  “Emma isn’t interested in me,” Zac says, his voice soft in contrast to my harshness.

  “Yeah, it looked like it.”

  “She really isn’t.” He argues his case again, but as yet, he’s given me nothing to convince me that he’s not just spouting words at me. So what if their parents were or are an item? What does that have to do with whether they’re involved wit
h each other? Nothing. That’s precisely what? It’s not like it’s incest or anything.

  I sigh, holding my thoughts to myself. Quite frankly I’m getting fed up of quarreling. This has not been the fun day that I imagined when I was using it as the proverbial dangled carrot to get me through the craziness of the last week.

  A look passes between Zac and Emma. I pretend I don’t notice it. But my heart stabs as I do. A silence follows before Emma speaks. “Listen, I’m gay. My parents don’t know yet, so it’s not something which I want banded about. But, I can assure you, I am so not interested in Zac in any romantic capacity.”

  Well, she does not initially strike me as being gay, I can tell you that much. In fact, her long streaming hair and shapely limbs are not in the slightest bit butch. I’m reminded of how people were surprised at Elliott back in the day when he first came out as bi.

  “OK, well thank you for letting me know.” I stand, fiddling with my hands, unsure of what to do and ignoring point blank the urge to throw my arms around Zac’s neck and ask for forgiveness. Perhaps it’s the humiliation, but I behave like someone with no emotion toward him whatsoever, which is a bit odd considering I’ve just been kicking off because he was with someone else. The rising tempo of my heart is enough to make clear that I have feelings for him.

  ‘Anyway,’ I think, ‘this has been a long day, and I never did get that nap on the plane.’

  I behave like a complete idiot and walk off, back to the relative safety of the guys from work.

  I could kick myself, and yet I still do it. The gremlin sitting on my shoulder isn’t able to ignore that Zac will move on if I keep telling him to. But the pull of pride, or fear, or both renders me out of control. I have no power to turn back. My feet keep walking away from him.