WE ARE ONE: Volume Two

by Jewel, Bella

  He picks up my bag and throws it over his shoulder, takes my hand, and pulls me to standing. “I better hit the road. Leroy will start wondering where I am.”

  “Oh, maybe it’s better we do go home to yours tomorrow night then. What will you do with Leroy?”

  Ushering me towards the door, he says, “I’ll drop him at Clare’s Friday afternoon and pick him up the next day. I think he loves her more than me.”

  Shit.

  “I’ll drive you home,” he says when we stop at his Landcruiser parked right out the front of the gallery.

  “I have my car here. I’ve been driving into work Wednesdays and Thursdays for the late finish. I’m parked on Melling Street where it’s not metered.”

  He insists on driving me to my car, then kisses me goodbye. When I’m safely inside, he drives away. Life for me is still complicated, but I’m moving forward, and that’s a whole lot better than standing still and infinitely better than going backwards.

  As I drive home, a memory hits me out of nowhere. My hands tighten on the steering wheel as my mind attempts to block something I don’t want to remember. It was about a year before Ki and I finally got together. We must’ve been about sixteen at the time.

  “What is your problem, Mereki?” I ask, stabbing him in the arm with my pointer finger.

  He turns to face me, raises his eyebrows, cocks his head to one side, then looks away. Not a single word passes his lips, but his silence speaks volumes.

  “Are you angry at me for what happened with Jacob today?” It is the only thing that makes any sense. Jacob had asked me out to dinner in front of Ki and half the school as we were lining up for lunch earlier today. I didn’t say yes of course, but I also didn’t want to make a big scene, so I pretended I needed to go to the bathroom and avoided responding.

  He snorts but doesn’t meet my gaze. I’ve hit a nerve. I’m sure of it. His jaw clenches, and I’m worried he’s going to snap his fishing rod in two from the white-knuckled grip he has going on.

  “You can’t possibly think I’d go out with Jacob Smith.” Gagging, my whole body shivers in disgust.

  Ki reels in his line, picks up his fishing box and walks away from me and our place by the river. Seeing red, I storm after him.

  “Silent treatment is so immature, Mereki,” I call out. “Is it possible your maturity is decreasing with age?” Frustration and my own anger lace my tone. “Are you gonna go home and cry to your mother now?”

  He throws me an angry look over his shoulder but still doesn’t say anything. Mereki is my best friend. He’s definitely my only real friend, but his anger management needs work. Giving me the silent treatment is never an option. Never ever. We talk, we laugh, he fishes, I do art. We have so many positive ways of communicating that this is unacceptable to me. Silent treatment never solves anything.

  Chapter 30

  “Emerson.” I hear my name literally screeched the second the Pulse nightclub’s entrance comes into view.

  Brooke bounces on the spot, waving to me, and I wave back, embarrassed by the attention I’m now getting.

  “Where’s Josh?” she asks, glancing around.

  “Running late I’m afraid, but he’ll be here.” A burst water pipe at Todd’s café this afternoon was, of course, a valid excuse for Josh to change our plans of meeting for dinner and going to the club together. The plumber hadn’t shown up, so Todd had begged his best mate to help minimise the damage. I’d told him to give Todd a hug from me and that I’d just meet him at the club later.

  Kissing my cheek, Brooke holds me at arm’s length. “You look hot.” I’m not offended by the shock in her voice. She’s never seen me in anything other than jeans and T-shirts. “I’m so glad you came.”

  When I was choosing what to wear last night, I realized how few ‘going out’ clothes I had and that my nightclub attire was non-existent. On my lunchbreak, I walked to a clothing shop located in the adjoining suburb and found a slim-fitting black dress. It was shorter than I was accustomed to, but the shop assistant insisted it really suited me. She also managed to talk me into some gold accessories and strappy heels. My left arm is completely covered while my right arm is left bare. It creates a striking contrast, and I’m determined to own the look.

  Brooke drags me through the club like a woman possessed. I direct all my focus into staying upright as I stumble along behind her. I knew I couldn’t wear my trusty Chucks or even ballet flats with this outfit, but my feet wholeheartedly disagree. When we stop, I’m introduced to a large group of her friends both sitting and standing around two tables near the bar. I nod and smile, attempting to remember names. A couple of them seem vaguely familiar, and I wonder if they’re actors.

  “And of course you know Tennyson,” she says, and I sigh with relief that I know one other person. He’s walking back to the table with a tray of drinks and smiles widely when he sees me.

  “Hey, Tenn,” I say, my smile matching his.

  “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” he says, nodding as he appraises my outfit. “Josh here?”

  I can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Not yet, but soon hopefully.”

  “Well don’t accept drinks from anyone but me. Okay?” His happy-go-lucky tone from moments ago is now replaced with a very serious expression. “What’s your poison?”

  I have so little experience with alcohol but figure a little Dutch courage wouldn’t go astray. “Vodka tonic please.”

  “Coming right up.” He disappears back to the bar.

  Glancing around, I take in the monochromatic interiors being shot with colour in a lightshow that feels like some sort of artistic entertainment. The dance floor is heating up with semi-naked bodies, and I can’t deny the surge of adrenaline the atmosphere injects into me. My anti-social instincts are being driven out by the synchronised music and lights.

  “One vodka tonic,” Tenn says, handing me a tall glass. “Do not put it down.”

  “Thank you,” I say, warmed by his concern. I take a long sip and welcome the buzz.

  I open my mouth to say something else, but Tenn has already turned away, beckoned by one of Brooke’s very attractive, busty friends. Knowing he’s in a dark place having been left by his wife, it’s really good to see him letting loose a little.

  I finish my drink in one long gulp, then feel a tap on my shoulder. Swivelling around, I’m face-to-face with a guy I was introduced to earlier. His name escapes me.

  “Emerson.” He holds his hand out, so I shake it confidently, willing his name to miraculously appear in my head. Obviously realising I don’t have a clue, he saves me. “Rick. There were a lot of names for you to remember.”

  He’s still holding my hand and rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. He’s flirting with me, but I have no idea how to deal with it. “Good to meet you, Rick.”

  “Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, taking a step closer so he’s officially in my personal space and still holding my hand.

  “We need to dance,” Brooke says, grabbing me by the arm and yanking me away. “Dance or throw up. That’s my motto.” Her long, black hair is flicked over her shoulder, and her chin tips up. She glances at Rick. “Sorry, buddy. She’s taken.”

  One of her friends, I think her name is Taya, jumps up from her seat, and we follow Brooke to the dancefloor. I must’ve glanced at the front entrance a hundred times since we arrived, hoping to see Josh, but he’s yet to show. The music is overwhelming, but as the beat rises and falls, I begin to relax. I want to feel completely free. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see him on the other side of the dance floor. The music simply fades away. Like a woman possessed, I push past jostling, sweaty bodies for a closer look. His back is to me, and he’s moving in the wrong direction. I can’t get to him. When he turns, I stop dead in my tracks, and my heart thunders painfully in my chest. It’s not my Mereki at all. Of course it isn’t. My knees feel too weak to hold me up, and I can’t get enough air into my lungs. Whipping around, I see Brooke and Taya still dancing pr
ovocatively, oblivious to my near meltdown. I can’t think straight. Clutching my chest, I try to rub the ache away, but I need more space to breathe. “I’m going to use the bathroom,” I say into Brooke’s ear when I make it back to her.

  “Are you okay?” she asks, shouting. “You’re white as a sheet.”

  I nod, then rush off the dance floor.

  The relative quiet of the bathroom gives me the opportunity to pull myself together. Listening to a group of drunk girls gossiping with over-the-top animation helps to get my mind off what just happened. By the time I return to the group near the bar, I’m feeling a lot better.

  It’s almost after ten and no Josh. I check my phone and see a text from him fifteen minutes ago saying he’s nearly here. I smile at his message, then smile wider when I look up and lock eyes with him only a few feet away. My insides liquefy as his gaze carefully examines my body. Lust is clear in his eyes and determination evident in his stride as he closes the short distance between us. I reach out and grab a conveniently-placed handrail as my legs feel unsteady. My angst, pain, and heartache fade to grey when Josh drinks me in and absorbs it all.

  Without caring that Brooke and her friends are right there, he kisses me like he means to lay claim, and I let him.

  “You look fucking amazing,” he says in my ear.

  It’s the first time I’ve heard him really swear, and there’s something very hot about it when used so rarely and with such passion.

  “Thank you.” I run my hands around his neck. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” And boy is that an understatement.

  The usually very casually-dressed Josh is now in dark denim jeans that appear custom made for his incredible body, together with a black, short-sleeved, button-down shirt. It isn’t tight because I know that’s not his style, but it is more form-fitting than anything I’ve seen him in before.

  Brooke introduces him around, and he attempts conversation with a few of her friends, but the music seems to be getting louder. I can barely hear myself think.

  When I next look at my watch, it’s after midnight.

  “Another friend of mine is DJing at the new club on Little Bourke,” Brooke says. “Do you wanna come?”

  Taya bounces up and down on her seat. “Absolutely.” She turns to Josh and me. “Come on, guys. The night is young.”

  Josh meets my gaze, and the air crackles between us. It’s clear neither of us has any interest in hitting another club. I hold my hands up in front of me. “Not me. I’m done.”

  Josh appears relieved. “Happy birthday,” he says, kissing Brooke on the cheek.

  As we leave the club, Josh’s hand firmly clasping mine, my gut twists in elaborate knots while my mind leaps in a thousand different directions. Regardless of how much I want to ignore it, my body is giving me a warning and I should be taking heed.

  Chapter 31

  We take a taxi back to my place, and my nerves reach fever pitch as we turn into my street. Despite the desperate desire I feel for Josh, the reality of being here with him is even worse than I’d anticipated, and I’m having massive regrets.

  “What’s wrong?” Josh asks, most likely sensing the tension I’m giving off.

  With my vow to honesty, I answer. “I’ve never invited a guy to sleep over here before.”

  “Well that makes me ridiculously happy,” he replies, putting his arm around my shoulders as I rummage in my bag for the keys. “No pressure. Okay? I just want to be with you. I want to be here for you.”

  His words are like a balm on my deep and painful wounds. “Thank you.”

  When we’re inside, I don’t give Josh even a moment’s opportunity to take a look around. Instead, I grab his hand and drag him to the bedroom with the single-minded focus of a woman possessed, and he offers me no resistance. In fact, he’s half-undressed by the time we fall onto the bed in a frenzy of lust. His hands are everywhere, and his deep thrusts remind me how much he wants me to be his.

  Afterwards, Josh slips easily into a deep sleep, while I toss and turn. My body is content, but my mind grants me no peace. It’s a raging inferno of yet-to-be-spoken truths and the anguish I’ll feel if they ruin what I have right here in this warm bed. Eventually I drift off, my mind conceding to continue the torture in my dreams.

  What feels like minutes later, my toe stubs painfully on the corner of the skirting board, and I nearly scream out, but I can’t find my voice. What am I doing in the hallway?

  Then I remember. I heard the front door closing, and I panicked like I’ve only ever experienced once before in my life. Naked, with Josh’s arms still locked around me, I struggled to push him off me, then managed to slip one of my oversized t-shirts I often slept in over my head.

  Everything feels too fast but not fast enough at the same time. My world is crashing in on me in the worst possible way. I exhale, now thinking it had simply been a very vivid nightmare. Obviously my subconscious wreaked havoc and made my fears seem real.

  Deciding to get a glass of water to calm myself down, I tiptoe towards the kitchen. When I turn the corner into the lounge, I come face-to-face with Mereki. This time I do scream, but my hands fly up to my mouth to muffle the sound. I haven’t seen him in weeks, and he looks different. He appears older, as if the years since moving to Melbourne have caught up with him all at once.

  “Nineteenth of November,” I say, hopelessly, holding out my hands to touch him, desperately wanting to touch him. “I was going to explain everything by the river. I needed more time.”

  He points to Josh’s jacket and raises his eyebrows, then sits on the couch. Instead of ignoring me like he has done for what feels like forever, he doesn’t take his eyes from mine. The strange thing is, he doesn’t appear angry. Instead, he appears resigned and, dare I say, happy. I pinch myself to make sure I’m not, in fact, still dreaming and find I am most definitely awake.

  Walking over to the couch, I sit down next to him. Oh God, I love him so much. What have I done?

  “Will you still come to the river on the nineteenth?” I ask. It comes out in a sob of anguish.

  I need him to nod. Just a tiny movement of his head to tell me he’ll do what we promised five years ago.

  “Please.” I’m begging now, and my voice is louder and more demanding. “I need to hear your voice, goddammit. I need you, Mereki. Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.” Tears are now coming hard and fast.

  “Emerson?”

  Hearing Josh’s voice, I leap off the couch. I can’t look at him. I can’t face this scenario.

  “Who were you talking to?” he asks, concern lacing his voice.

  I glance at him standing by the doorway in his black boxers, then stare down at the empty couch. The sob that escapes my chest is not of this world. It’s the unparalleled pain of acknowledging that someone you love more than your own life is dead. Mereki is dead, and there isn’t a goddamned thing I can do to change that. Lord knows I’ve tried. It doesn’t matter that I still see him, still talk to him, still love him. He’s gone, and it crushes me to the bone.

  I’m completely confused, I’m terrified, and my body starts to shake uncontrollably.

  “What’s going on?” Josh crosses the room and stops in front of me, blocking my view of the couch. He takes hold of my upper arms. “You’re scaring me. Did you have a bad dream?”

  I almost laugh at his question, holding my hands out, palms up, willing the shaking to cease so I can try to explain. “I wish that’s all it was.” I raise my eyes to meet his concerned gaze.

  He tries to pull me into him, but I shake him off. I can’t handle him touching me now.

  His eyes flare with confusion. “Tell me what’s going on, Emerson. Please.”

  Like a wild animal caught in a trap, my eyes dart around the room looking for an escape. This is no one’s business but my own, and now I’m going to have to verbalise something I don’t think I can explain out loud.

  Irrational anger swamps me, and I go on the attack. “I don’t know what is and i
sn’t normal anymore.”

  “Why are you shouting at me?” he asks, holding his hands up.

  I feel like I’m smack bang in the middle of a train wreck, and I don’t know what to do with myself because I’m both the cause and the casualty. Josh has become collateral damage. When he looks at me again, his eyes are unreadable, and I have no idea what he’s thinking. I’m emotionally spent. My mind spins, and I struggle to organise any coherent thoughts in my messed-up head.

  Swallowing hard, a cold sweat prickles my skin. The simple act of pushing my shoulders back gives me a little strength, and I swipe at my eye, irritated by a few strands of hair that won’t behave. “I have so much to tell you, and I don’t know if you’re going to understand, but I owe you the truth.”

  Josh bristles. “Okay,” he says drawing out the vowel. “I want to know everything about you. The good, the bad, and I suspect the ugly stuff have all made you into the incredible woman you are today.” His hand reaches out for mine, but I still can’t let him touch me. “Tell me what you’ve been hiding, Emerson.”

  Closing my eyes briefly and taking a deep breath, I say, “When I was eighteen, my boyfriend and I were mugged. The money I took for that drawing that hangs in your mother’s house was stolen along with my entire world. The only reason I wasn’t raped and most likely killed was they panicked when they realised Mereki wasn’t breathing. He’d been knocked out trying to save me, and his head hit the pavement in just the wrong way. He died in a deserted alleyway, a few metres from where I lay unconscious.” The words spill out so fast, my head spins.

  The colour drains from Josh’s face. “Oh my God, Emerson. You were talking to him as if he’s still here.” He pushes the heels of his palms into his eyes.