Being Not Good

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Being Not Good Page 13

by Elizabeth Stevens


  Finally the shakes subsided. I relaxed again and I opened my eyes to look at him.

  No one had ever looked at me like that before. I wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but it sent a skitter of something quite nice through my chest.

  Davin ran his fingers softly over me a couple of times. “How did that feel?”

  “Amazing,” I laughed quietly. The reward had been more than worth the risk.

  There was a crooked tilt to his mouth that was almost a smile. “I didn’t mean physically.”

  “Oh.” I smiled self-consciously. “Saying ‘bad’ feels kinda corny…”

  He ducked his lips back to my ear as his hand slid up my body firmly, turning me on all over again. “Everything about you is corny, baby. Don’t stop now.”

  I grinned against his cheek. “Fine. It felt bad.”

  He pulled back, whispered, “That’s my good girl,” and gave me a wink before rearranging us so I was leaning against him with his arm around me to watch the rest of the movie.

  I didn’t know what it was about Davin. He was rude. He was crude. He was bossy and arrogant. But it all just made me want to spend more time with him. Maybe it was me naively thinking that I was cracking that cold exterior, breaking through those seemingly infinite defences. Or maybe it was just that there was something else about him too that I hadn’t quite put my finger on yet.

  We got through the movie without any more distractions and he even deigned to walk out holding my hand.

  “What did you think?” I asked him and he nodded slowly.

  “It wasn’t bad.”

  “That’s almost a positive review coming from you.”

  He huffed like he was trying not to smile. “Sure.” He rubbed the back of his head. “So, did you have plans now?”

  I shook my head as I took a sip of my drink. “Nope.”

  He looked around like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to actually come out with what he was thinking of saying or not. “Do you want to come back to mine?”

  I looked at the time on my phone. “At half eleven?”

  He nodded. “At half eleven.”

  “Some people might think you’re asking me to stay.”

  He shrugged. “You can if you want. Dad’s not home until late tomorrow.”

  I looked him over as I thought about it.

  I’d stayed over at Miles’ place and he’d stayed at mine before. Only once when there hadn’t been parents home, though. Even then I didn’t think Mum or Dad would have a problem with it. They knew I was honest with them and they – so far – trusted me.

  “Okay. Let me call my parents.”

  He shrugged like it didn’t bother him and I dialled my mum’s number, thinking she’d be the most likely to answer.

  “Hey, sweetie. How was the movie?” she answered.

  “It was good.”

  “Good. What are you up to now?”

  “I was thinking maybe I could stay at Davin’s tonight?” I started.

  “Did you now?” I could hear the smile in her voice.

  “I did. Would that be okay?”

  “Would staying at a boy’s house I’ve only met once before be okay?” Mum teased and I laughed.

  “His dad’s not home, so I get if that’s a no.”

  As I turned around aimlessly, I caught Davin’s look of obvious surprise and I grinned at him.

  “His dad’s not home all night?”

  “Correct.”

  “Have you two had sex?”

  “Mum,” I whined. “Now?”

  “I think that would count as child pornography, Ave. I wouldn’t suggest it.”

  I sniggered. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “If we were to say yes, what time will you be back tomorrow?”

  I looked at Davin. “I don’t know. By midday?”

  Davin’s eyebrow rose then he shrugged like he’d assumed he knew what I was talking about.

  “Ave wants to stay at her boyfriend’s house tonight,” Mum said, presumably talking to Dad.

  “This isn’t Miles, is it?” I heard Dad ask.

  “No. Davin,” Mum replied.

  “And you’ve met him?” Dad asked.

  “I have. Once when he picked her up. He seemed nice. He had a bit of a stunned mullet thing going on though.”

  I smiled at Davin as I listened to their conversation, slightly muffled from wherever Mum had put the phone.

  “We did let her have sleepovers with Miles,” Mum added.

  “They’d been dating for a while before we did that,” Dad said thoughtfully.

  “That’s true.”

  “She’s trustworthy, though,” Dad said. “She always makes good decisions. And she’s always honest with us.”

  “That she does. She’s our good little Avery.”

  I grimaced in annoyance and Davin threw me a questioning look, but I just shook my head.

  “Which is why we never have to worry about her,” Dad said.

  “So what do you think? Yes or no?”

  “I’m all right with it as long as he comes to dinner next week.”

  Mum didn’t say anything for a moment, then I heard her say, “Okay. Deal.” There was a scruffling noise, then she was talking to me again. “Did you hear your dad?”

  I nodded. “I did. I’ll let Davin know he’s coming to dinner next week.” Davin turned back to me quickly from looking around, his eyes narrowed and full of barely contained anger.

  “I’m expected to do what?” he asked.

  But I was listening to Mum. “Great. Have a good night – be sensible – and we’ll see you tomorrow. Love you, sweetie.”

  “Love you too, Mum. Love to Dad.” I hung up and gave Davin a single nod.

  “Dinner?” He looked at me in utter disbelief.

  “Dinner.” I nodded.

  “With your family?”

  “Yup.”

  “For just having you over for one night?”

  “You’ve got it.”

  “You could have lied to them and spared me this.”

  I nodded. “I could have. Although I didn’t know they were going to go with the dinner route.”

  “But you knew it was a possibility?”

  I shrugged. “Not really. But I’m not surprised by it.”

  “Dinner?” he clarified as if it might have changed.

  “Dinner.”

  “And you didn’t lie because…?”

  “Because then they wouldn’t trust me and I wouldn’t get to stay at your house any other time.”

  “There might be more times…?”

  I nodded. “If I tell them the truth and you meet them for dinner.”

  He sighed and looked like he wanted to argue more. But all he mumbled was, “I don’t know what’s happening anymore,” then looked at me. “Okay. Fine. You stay over and I will go to dinner with your family.”

  I grinned as I took his hand and started leading him to his car. “Great. Oh, can I borrow a t-shirt to sleep in?”

  “Yes. I think I’ve gone insane,” he said then cleared his throat. “Sure. Why not.”

  Twelve: Davin

  On D-Day, the day I lost my Meet the Parents virginity, I told Avery I’d go home and get changed and be at her place at about seven.

  “Do you own something…less black?” Dad asked as I almost fell into the kitchen while concentrating on doing up my belt. It was his week off work and it would have been impossible to get out of the house without him seeing me.

  I looked up at him and there was no way you could say we weren’t related. I had my mother’s eyes, and her genes combined with Dad’s to make sure I wasn’t going to be anything but idiotically tall. But everything else was just Dad. The dark hair, the nose, the square jaw, the five o’clock shadow by midday if I bothered shaving of a morning.

  “Most of us call that grey,” I responded.

  “I’ll take that as a no then.”
r />   “No. By all means. I have different colours in my wardrobe. I have midnight black, jet black, raven black, onyx, coal, obsidian–”

  “Okay,” Dad chuckled. “I get it. Just black.” He flipped the page in his newspaper and took hold of his coffee mug. “I guess it’ll have to be good enough to meet your girlfriend’s parents.”

  I huffed. “Avery’s under no delusions about who I am. If it’s good enough for her, I’m sure her parents won’t give a fuck.”

  Dad chuckled again and I could see by the look that crossed his face that he was about to enter reminiscing mode. “To think, the girl who accidentally doused half the school in glitter at that stupid talent show four years ago would end up your girlfriend.”

  “Laugh it up,” I grumbled.

  “No, Dav. I’m glad you’re getting out of your comfort zone.”

  “No one’s getting out of anything,” I told him. “I’ve chosen a specific girl to vent my hormonal frustrations with and she insists on us going on actual dates. To wit, I am required to meet her parents. There’s nothing more to it than that.”

  There was plenty more to it than that. For example, I was trying to help her trash her reputation. So far I wasn’t sure that we were succeeding. Another example, I could be venting my hormonal frustrations much more efficiently with her. But I neither expected nor needed that.

  “Well, you’ve got me convinced,” Dad said with a grin and I ask you, “Why do parents insist on treating their children like…children?”

  “You say something, Dav?” Dad asked as he flipped another page of his paper.

  “Never mind. I need to go.”

  “You coming home tonight?”

  “Does it matter?” I huffed and Dad gave me an annoyed look. I sighed. “Yes.”

  Dad nodded. “Good. If I’m up, I’ll see you then.”

  I waved my head noncommittally, a poor facsimile of a nod, picked up my keys and headed out.

  It wasn’t exactly that my dad and I didn’t get along. But he’d really only seen me for half my life. It was sort of difficult to impose true paternal authority when you were gone half the time, and it certainly hadn’t been easy to keep up a close relationship. Add to that the fact that eleven years ago I’d become difficult to get close to, and Dad and I didn’t have much of a father-son relationship to speak of.

  I loved him and he loved me. He took the (good-natured) piss out of me more often than not and I begrudgingly let him. But I didn’t go to him with my problems and he didn’t expect me to. Most days when he was home, we behaved more like roommates who had developed a fondness for each other due to a relatively close proximity.

  I folded myself into the car, realising too late that I was probably supposed to take wine or chocolate or something with me when I met my girlfriend’s parents.

  “But how will I maintain my bad boy image if I do something so…thoughtful?” I ask you.

  I threw the car into reverse and reminded myself that meeting my first girlfriend’s parents wasn’t that big a deal. It wasn’t like I wanted or needed their approval to feel good about myself or to date their daughter. There was zero concern that I might feel good about myself and it’s not like dating Avery had become the main event in my life or anything. She was nothing but a vaguely entertaining, temporary affair which alleviated some of my current boredom.

  And I kept that notion firmly in my mind as I drove to her place and forced myself to walk to the front door like a calm, normal human being. I took a deep breath as my finger hovered over the doorbell, then I just went for it. I heard the tone echo through the house and the familiar noises of people inside reacting.

  The door opened and Avery’s mum Heather was standing there beaming in her three-quarter chinos and pale blue shirt. Like Avery, she had blonde hair. Although, hers looked more dyed than her elder daughter’s. She also had blue eyes and her smile still didn’t quite reach them, despite the nice show she was putting on.

  “Davin!” she cooed and I thought I could see where Avery got that horrifying sweetness. “So nice to see you again. Come in. Come in. Avery!” she yelled and I winced as I stepped in. Heather closed the door behind me. “We’re in the living room.” So I headed for the living room.

  In the living room was a man with short ash brown hair, a cropped beard, and blue eyes behind rimless glasses. He wore dark navy trousers with a white shirt, tucked in, top button undone, and sleeves rolled up. His posture commanded authority and demanded attention the way only a teacher could.

  “Davin, this is Phil,” Heather said happily.

  Phil met me in the middle of the room, his hand outstretched. I took it and saw him sizing me up as we shook. A master at the game, he gave away no indication of the conclusion to which he came.

  “Davin. Nice to meet you. Avery’s been talking about you almost constantly,” Phil said.

  “More’s the pity for me then,” I replied and wondered if he’d actually understood the joke.

  “Davin,” came Avery’s voice behind me and I spun to see her coming up short just inside the archway, with Ebony beside her.

  The two sisters were starkly different.

  There was Avery in a figure-hugging maxi dress that looked like it was made of a thousand different pieces of material in different patterns and colours. Her hair was bundled into a messy bun with wisps of hair escaping around her face and her lipstick was even brighter than her usual bubble-gum pink.

  Then there was Ebony. Her eyes and her hair were a few shades darker than Avery’s and it seemed that wasn’t the only thing about her that was darker. In grey denim shorts, a black singlet, and Batman Converses, with her hair in a plain pony tail, she was the total opposite of the shiny happy beacon beside her.

  “Davin, you remember Ebony?” Avery said.

  I swallowed hard and nodded, something about the smaller girl was terrifyingly off-putting even to someone like me. “Ebony. Nice to see you again.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she gave me a single nod. “Davin.”

  Heather giggled almost nervously. “Why don’t we sit down? I’ll get some drinks. Dinner’s still a few minutes off. Drink, Davin?”

  “He’ll have anything caffeinated,” Avery answered for me.

  Heather looked at me questioningly. “Coke?”

  I nodded. “Would be great. Thanks.”

  She smiled and ducked out. Phil took a seat in an armchair and Ebony sat on one of the couches. Avery came over to me and half held my hand, half bundled me to sit on the other couch and sat down beside me.

  I didn’t feel totally on display or anything.

  “So, Davin,” Phil started and I managed not to remind you out loud that no good conversation had started with, ‘So, insert your name here’. “How was school?”

  Well it could have been a completely worse start. I shifted slightly in my seat, trying to remind myself why the hell I was in Avery St John’s living room to have dinner with her parents. The whole thing was fucking bonkers and I was, at that moment, having trouble remembering why I’d agreed to this whole thing in the first place.

  Oh yeah. There wasn’t actually a reason besides furthering the plot.

  “As far as a compulsory system of education, it was…fine,” I said carefully.

  Heather chuckled as she came back in with a tray of drinks. “That was a very good answer.”

  Phil’s eyebrows rose. “You dislike school?”

  I took a breath before replying, “Define dislike.”

  “Feel distaste for or hostility towards,” Phil said with a wry smirk.

  Avery leaned towards me. “Dad’s an English lecturer at Adelaide Uni.”

  I nodded slowly. “That makes sense.”

  “In light of said definition, I’ll repeat the question. You dislike school?”

  I looked him clear in the eye and said, “I enjoy learning. I enjoy being challenged. But yes, I dislike school.”

  Phil looked surprised fo
r a moment, then his smile was slightly warmer. “An honest answer at least. Does your dislike for organised forms of education mean you don’t plan on going to university?”

  “Dad!” Avery hissed.

  But it was fine. “Barring any unforeseen incidents, I will be attending university next year.”

  “Unforeseen incidents? Like what?”

  I shrugged. “I feel my death may have a negative impact on my ability to undertake tertiary education.”

  Phil huffed a small laugh. “I imagine it would.”

  “And how was your day?” Avery asked Phil, like she was desperate to change the subject. “Did you get your crossword finished?”

  Phil nodded.

  “Both of them?” Avery wheedled and Phil grinned.

  “Yes. Both of them.”

  “Throw us a clue then, Dad,” Avery said with a smile at him then me. “Let’s see if they’re so easy.”

  “With company?”

  Avery nudged me. “Oh, Davin won’t mind.”

  In her defence, Davin didn’t mind at all.

  Phil spread a slow glance over the room, an expectant smirk growing on his face as he picked up the paper beside him and looked over it calculatingly. “All right. ‘Damp fog hides nothing’.”

  I looked around as Avery, Ebony and Heather all frowned in concentration and wondered about the sanity in answering. It’s not like I cared if my girlfriend’s parents liked me or not. But I was also loathe to pass up a time to prove my intellect.

  “Moist,” came out of my mouth before I’d even realised I was going to go with showing off.

  Phil’s expectant smirk turned impressed and he gave me a single nod. “Well done, Davin.”

  “What?” Ebony asked sceptically. “How.”

  “Care to explain?” Phil looked at me.

  “Fog is mist. Nothing is zero. Hide zero, or ‘o’, in mist and you have moist for damp.”

  Ebony didn’t bother hiding her scrutiny. “Are you like smart or something?”

  I shrugged. “That’s what I’m told.”

  Ebony waved her hand in her dad’s direction without taking her eyes off me. “Ask him another one.”

 

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