Hooked on You

by Jenn Matthews

  “Who’s that?” Tracy looked from Ollie to the street behind her.

  “Someone…no one.”

  “Bollocks.” Tracy grimaced. “Ex?”

  “No, no.” Ollie looked at the pavement and toed the concrete with her shoe. “Just someone…someone I’m friends with. I think.”

  “Did I just out you?” Tracy asked, leaning against the wall. “Sorry.”

  She shook her head. “It’s okay.”

  Tracy eyed her. “Maybe I should go. You should try and catch her up.”

  “No, I don’t want you to go,” Ollie said, thankful for the beer that was loosening her tongue. Tracy was pretty and appeared reasonably clever. She shouldn’t throw away a potentially fulfilling relationship for a woman she would probably never have, should she?

  “That’s sweet. But your friend deserves an explanation and… Are you in the closet?”

  “No. Not as such.” Ollie grimaced and sighed, looking out towards where Anna had legged it.

  “Good. Can’t stand girls in the closet. Waste of time.”

  Ollie’s face tightened. She was feeling regret and guilt and a whole ream of other emotions, most of them telling her to leave this woman she barely knew and run after the woman she actually did want to get to know. But fear twisted her gut like a boa constrictor with its prey. She didn’t want to face Anna, to see the rejection and discomfort on that beautiful face. She’d seen that before—in her children’s eyes and in the eyes of her ex-husband—five years ago. Her parents. Her brothers.

  She sighed deeply. She would have to face Anna. Otherwise Anna would feel so uncomfortable that she would never grace the shop with her presence again.

  “I’ll see you.” Tracy touched Ollie’s arm. She indicated the side street with a tilt of her head.

  Ollie watched Tracy’s retreating back and shoved her keys back into her jacket pocket, then ran, her boots clumping on the pavement. She wished she were fitter, wished her knee didn’t throb with every step, wished her steps were even, that she didn’t limp all the time.

  She found Anna hanging about on the corner to the main road into town, the smell of an Indian restaurant wafting around her. The bright lights illuminating the Taj Mahal made her hair glow more red than usual.

  Anna turned to greet her with a look of surprise. “Hello. You’re out late.”

  Ollie stopped next to her. “Anna,” she said breathily, her heart pounding with more than her run. Her gut hurt, along with her throbbing knee.

  “Just waiting for a taxi,” Anna explained, her arms folded over her coat, her knuckles pale.

  “Out with friends?” Ollie asked, staring across the road at a couple walking their dog.

  “Just a friend from work. Jack. He fancied a drink.” They both shifted their feet. “Reckon I’ve convinced him to join a football team.”

  “Enforcing hobbies onto everyone now, are we?” Ollie was hoping for a smile, a flicker of anything that meant they were still okay.

  “Seems like you have hobbies I didn’t know about,” Anna said and her gaze immediately flicked up to Ollie’s.

  Ollie looked at the ground, closed her eyes and folded her arms. “If you’re referring to…my romantic preference…” Ollie huffed out a breath and set her jaw. “I never said I was straight.”

  “You never said otherwise,” Anna replied, her words like knives, but then lowered her gaze again. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. I suppose I shouldn’t have just assumed.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Of course. It’s up to you who you…who you…”

  “Snog?” Ollie’s mouth twisted into a lopsided grin. She was relieved as a similar expression played on Anna’s face. It broadened when she continued. “Kiss? Smooch? Make out with…?”

  “I can’t believe I was offering to set you up with one of my male acquaintances, though.” Anna was smiling, and Ollie didn’t care about anything else. “You should have said something at the time. I feel like a total prat.”

  “I’m not used to saying it out loud.” Ollie leant sideways against a lamp post and shifted her weight to her good leg. “It’s a new thing, actually, my a-attraction to women.” Ollie squinted steadily at her and waited for a reaction.

  Anna simply smiled. “Do you think it was always there or…or did something change?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Maybe it was always there.”

  An ambulance went by, blue lights whirling, and they both watched it go. “Your, um…your a-affair,” Anna began. “Was the teacher…?”

  “A woman?”

  Someone walked past, talking on his phone. They both looked away and shifted their feet until the man had passed.

  “She was, yes.”

  Anna nodded. “Right.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Ollie’s eyes searched Anna’s.

  Anna looked back, her eyes shining in the street light. Then she shook herself. “Oh, hey,” she said in a light tone. She reached out and rubbed Ollie’s upper arm. “It’s fine.” She smiled properly, fully. But her gaze drifted across the road, so Ollie followed it—a taxi had pulled up. A flicker of something passed Anna’s eyes. Was that disappointment? “Are we still friends?”

  “Of course.”

  Ollie offered her hand for Anna to shake, but apparently Anna had other ideas. She wrapped her arms around Ollie’s shoulders and pulled her into a hug.

  Unsure of what to do, Ollie patted her back, her heart smacking against her ribs. She sighed happily and rested her chin on Anna’s shoulder, laying her hands tentatively against the back of Anna’s coat. Anna made a noise deep in her throat, and Ollie pressed closer. Perfume drifted up into Ollie’s nostrils. She shivered and tried to pull back but found Anna squeezing her tight.

  “No more secrets, hmm?” Anna said as she held her.

  Do hugs usually last this long? She swallowed thickly and realised Anna had asked her a question.

  “All right.”

  They broke apart then, and Anna nodded towards the taxi.

  “I should go,” Anna said, but sighed and looked at the ground.

  I should ask her back to mine. Ollie blinked. What would they do at eleven thirty at night? She shivered again, this time in arousal, as flashes of things they could do floated through her brain. She pushed them away. Stop it.

  “You’re cold, you should get inside,” Anna said.

  Ollie’s cheeks felt hot, and the rest of her felt anything but cold. “Okay. See you Thursday.”

  Anna squeezed her upper arm again, then turned on her heel and trotted across the road to the taxi.

  Ollie stood for what seemed like an hour after it pulled away. She stuffed her hands into her pockets and then trudged back with an exaggerated limp. Any physical pain is worth what just happened. Despite how terribly it could have gone, I’m so glad she knows. Her stomach twisted with fears about what would happen next with Anna, but Ollie forced herself to be brave, and to hope that their lack of secrets would mean a better friendship between them.

  Anna found she kept forgetting things the next day. Thoughts of Ollie’s revelation plagued her like a swarm of locusts, poking at her mind whenever there was a lull in her classes. Lunchtime rolled around, and Anna was seriously considering two spoonfuls of coffee rather than her usual one, if only to break through the daze she seemed to be in.

  As Jack stepped closer to her, she acknowledged his presence with an apologetic smile. “You got my text, I hope?” she asked and he nodded. “Sorry about leaving in such a hurry. I suddenly felt a bit queasy.”

  Jack gave her a disbelieving but kind look, and she avoided him by stabbing her salad with her fork and munching steadily.

  He sat beside her and dropped his head to the side. “Come on,” he insisted, his voice low so no one else could hear. “What really happened?”r />
  “I was simply… I felt unwell.”

  “Nope. Sorry, Anna. I don’t buy it. You were fine up until the moment you took off on me.”

  She was ready to give him an earful about minding his own business, but then his face was so full of lines that she relented. The staffroom was full of too many teachers and assistants, however, with potentially prying ears.

  “My classroom?” she pleaded and stood, bringing her lunch with her.

  She perched on the side of her own desk in her own, familiar classroom, and he slid up beside her. They faced the blackboard, and Anna’s gaze passed over the half-scrubbed-out chalk. “Right. Okay. You know my new friend?”

  “Ollie?” Jack said.

  “Well…” Anna looked up at him, then took a deep breath before using the correct pronoun. “She…was outside the pub. With a female friend. They were kissing. And I freaked out… No, that’s not the right word… Anyway, I didn’t handle it all that well and…”

  “Are you attracted to her?” Jack’s eyebrows had risen. He sounded less surprised than he looked.

  “What? No. Of course not I…I was just a bit shocked at seeing her with… I mean, she hadn’t told me she liked… It just caught me off guard, I suppose.” She grimaced at how she sounded and covered her face with her hand.

  “So you buggered off and left me with half a glass of wine?”

  “I’m sorry.” Anna groaned through her fingers. “I’m a terrible friend. And I seem to be saying that an awful lot this week.”

  “Don’t worry. You can owe me a drink.”

  She sighed.

  “So you talked about…her like she was a potential…you know.” He nudged her with his shoulder.

  “Well, she’s not.” She looked away from him, at the blackboard, her refuge from the expectant expression she knew was there, but somehow she couldn’t focus on the words in chalk written across it. “She is beautiful,” she said. “I’m sure she could have any woman she wanted.”

  “So what about the class tonight? Is it going to be weird?”

  “Oh, no, she caught me up after my little… Well, anyway. She apologised for not telling me, and I apologised for freaking out when I saw her. To be honest they were practically snogging one another’s faces off. It was a bit full on.”

  A knock at the classroom door interrupted his laughter. Tally stuck her head round it.

  “Natalie Scunthorpe and Chelsea Summers have had an altercation,” she said. “Chelsea’s asking for you.”

  Annoyance gripped Anna’s middle. “Be right there.”

  The door closed behind Tally.

  Anna sighed. “It should be fine. We apologised, made up, had a hug. Everything’s okay now.” She frowned and pouted. “I’m not sure why I reacted like that, if I’m honest. It wasn’t like I’ve not seen two women… I mean, I haven’t lived my entire life in a cave.”

  A noise of agreement vibrated from Jack’s throat before he pushed back from the desk and went to the door. He turned to give her a pleased smile.

  She smiled tightly at him as he left and then sprang up when she remembered she was needed to dismantle an argument between two adolescents.

  That evening, Matthew answered the side door when Anna knocked, and although he greeted her warmly with a hug, she couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. Trying not to dwell on that, she focused instead on showing him her new scarf.

  He lifted the end from her front and squinted critically. “Lovely. Although,” he said, closing the door against the wind behind her, “Ollie’s going to kill you.”

  “What for?” Anna asked, her eyes wide. Oh God, she’s told him how I reacted the other night!

  Matthew pointed to her bosom.

  Anna’s eyes widened even more. “What?”

  “How you tie in your ends.” He leant close to her, at the same time eyeing Ollie, who was in the shop area showing a new member of the group the various yarns. “You can’t just tie a knot to keep it all from unravelling.”

  “How are you supposed to tie in the ends, then?”

  “I’d show you, but you’re paying Ollie to teach you these things. It’s her job, really.” He scooted away from Anna as Ollie came in.

  Anna placed an innocent palm over the end of her scarf to hide her misdemeanour. They had barely gotten their hellos out before Matthew blew her cover.

  He pursed his lips and pointed at Anna. “She’s a knot-tier.”

  Anna’s mouth fell open. She let her hand fall away from her chest with a sigh.

  “You are not,” Ollie said.

  Anna threw Matthew an accusatory look before shrugging at Ollie.

  Ollie flapped her hand to indicate she should go into the classroom, but her jaw was tense. “We’ll talk later.”

  Anna felt a bit flustered at her deadly serious tone.

  Only six people were at the group that evening—Sarah and Christian had obviously made other plans, probably together. Harry was there, with about six different colours of yarn, working slowly on a detailed square. His face was furrowed, and he seemed irritated with whatever he was doing. He kept undoing his work and then redoing it.

  Matthew was throwing some surreptitious glances at him from the back row, where he slid into the seat next to Anna.

  “Tonight we’ll be making…crocheted bikini sets,” Ollie said. Everyone laughed and Ollie’s eyes gleamed. “Only kidding. Little in-joke there for those who have been coming for a while. You can actually get a pattern for a rather flattering bikini, but I can’t imagine swimming in it would be the best idea.” Again, tittering flooded the room. “Cuddly caterpillars this week.” She handed out patterns to everyone.

  Harry ran a hand through his shiny locks and then held it in the air, indicating he wanted help.

  Matthew started to stand, but at Ollie’s stern look and the wiggle of the end of one forefinger, he sat back down and huffed as his arms folded.

  Anna smirked at him. “Remember, you said Ollie was the one who should be teaching?”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “I was just planning on saying hi again, not putting her out of a job.”

  “Maybe give him a minute to get settled with whatever he’s having trouble with before you pounce?” Anna suggested.

  “Make up your mind. Go talk to him, don’t go talk to him. Christ.” Matthew sighed and indicated her scarf. “Other than the hideous knots, that’s lovely.”

  She ducked her head, warmth flowing through her body. “Thank you. So, cuddly caterpillars for you this evening or something of your own choosing?”

  He held up the pattern, waggling it so the colourful cartoon-like faces of the two caterpillars pictured appeared to move comically. “These seem good. I’ll have a go.”

  She grinned. “For once, I think I’ll join you.”

  They walked together into the main area of the shop and chose some simple DK, both of them wanting to stray from the pastel colours in the picture to something much brighter.

  “I’m going to force this little guy on Bethany for Christmas,” Anna mused wickedly. “And she likes green, so I think I’ll use three different shades.” She grinned, picking up an almost fluorescent ball and laughing at Matthew’s grimace.

  “What about your adopted son? Timothy, is it?”

  “Ah, yes, he is feeling very sad this week as he managed to break a pencil pot his late mother knitted him years ago.”

  Matthew frowned and then stared into space for a moment. He picked up purple, orange, and green yarn, carried the balls out of the shop area, and followed Anna back to their table.

  “Pencil pot?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I’ll have to find him an identical one. He won’t be happy with anything less.”

  “Ollie’s made pencil pots before.”

  “Crocheted?”

  “Yeah. You sho
uld ask her for the pattern.”

  “Oh, I’m sure she’s very busy with Harry and all…” She fiddled with the balls of wool as she glanced over at Ollie.

  She was bending over Harry’s table, her fingertip resting on the pattern in front of him. He was nodding. Whatever Ollie was saying was obviously clicking with him.

  “I can distract him if you like,” Matthew said, but Anna knew he wouldn’t dare after the look Ollie had given him.

  “No, that’s quite all right,” Anna replied and moved her gaze away as Ollie stood and looked about the room.

  Matthew put up his hand. Anna wanted to slip down in her chair as Ollie came over.

  “Yep?” she asked, her voice strong. She gave Anna a single glance but focused on Matthew.

  He blanched. “Um, so…” He looked down at the pattern. His mouth hung open like he’d been knocked on the head.

  Ollie folded her arms. “Make a loop, six doubles in the loop. Increase as usual for a circle.” She regarded him with glinting eyes. “Come on, Matthew, this is your bread and butter.” She grinned at Anna.

  Returning the smile, Anna felt warmth in her stomach as the laughing gaze trained on her own.

  “Anna wants to make a pencil pot for Timothy,” Matthew blurted out.

  “Don’t worry,” Anna said, lowering her head a little, the amusement in her belly replaced with nervousness. “It’s fine. I’m good with the caterpillar.”

  Ollie reached forward to gently squeeze one of the balls, her thumb sweeping slowly over the yarn.

  That’s an odd thing to do. I’m sure she knows what her wool feels like.

  “I have a pattern for some pots, different sizes, so you can choose one or make a set.”