by Sorell Oates
Dylan was studiously avoiding eye contact with anyone. On the outskirts, he was better positioned to assess the scene. Hank was lovelorn and couldn't take his eyes off Imogen. If his gay-dar was correct, Callum McKinley couldn't take his eyes off Rupert – neither could Susan-Marie or the girl called Liz. The only male whose attention Rupert could hope to attract was Jonathan Radmacker, who he'd already decided was mad. Bemused, Radmacker was enjoying the whole scene unfolding – it was live art in its rawest form.
“Is it me or is it hot in here?” said Rupert, desperate for a way out.
His shirt felt too tight, though it was handmade to fit. Sweating, he was worrying wet patches would show under his arm pits or on his back, revealing his discomfort at being part of this spectacle. Even the designer charcoal jeans felt snug in the crotch, the denim sticking to his muscular thighs. He was rocking on the outside of his feet. Even the pristine white, skate sneakers didn't feel soft on his soles, despite being specifically made to allow foamy support to take the knocks and jolts genuine skateboarders endured in their sport. Rupert fought the urge to run home, strip off and shower away “disaster” from his skin.
“It's you. It's October. Winter's only two months away and there's air-conditioning on,” said Imogen smartly.
“I'm going out for a breath of fresh air. It's stuffy and I need to clear my head.”
He stalked out the main entrance. It was cooler. Rubbing his temples he acknowledged the situation was not nice. Not nice for Liz and it must be horrific for Susie.
“Hey stranger.”
“You look different with your hair down and fully made up. I should have placed your face from the gym.”
“Either way, you didn't recognize me. The gym or an art gallery. You still didn't have any idea who I was.”
“It's been fifteen years, Susie.”
Nauseous, she steadied herself to prevent vomiting. No one, not even her father called her Susie. Only Rupert had. Horrid, hateful, hurtful Rupert. The man who toyed with her heart-strings. Things were different now.
“Fifteen years or fifty pounds?”
“Susie, don't do this.”
“Don't do what?”
“Don't rake up something hurtful for you. You deserve happiness. Don't focus on something horrendous that an immature, thoughtless, cruel teenage boy did. You’re so much better than that now and you were so much better than that at school.”
“Are you worried about me raking up something hurtful that will upset me, or is it that you don't want to have to deal with what happened?”
“I was there. I know what happened. If you think I haven't lost sleep over it, you're wrong. Seeing you now has raked it up for me, but I deserve that. I deserve sleepless nights. I deserve to consider the boy I was and the man I've become.”
“You've barely changed.”
“Meaning what?”
“Liz tonight, Jasmine at the gym. You asking for my number while Jasmine was present.”
“Liz and Jasmine are my friends.”
“Friends with benefits. I'm not fifteen anymore, Rupert, and you aren't eighteen. I'm not blind to your philandering ways. I realize tonight our interaction in the gym was designed for me to become another entry in your little black book.”
“That's not true,” he protested.
“No?”
“No. I was going to call.”
“We met on Monday.”
“I was applying the three-day rule.”
“Will you ever grow up?”
“Susie, you were talking about playing cat and mouse games at the gym. In the spirit of your playfulness, I was adhering to the customs of dating.”
“I suppose that could be true.”
“Did you lose your cell phone or were you trying to make sure it was me?”
“No and no! When I realized you didn't know me, a lost cell phone was the only excuse to pop in my head for lurking round the men's dressing room. As for making sure it was you, I'd done that five minutes earlier. I was hunting you to say hello.”
“You look totally different to when I last saw you, but it's as if you haven't changed at all. You're incapable of lying.”
“You think?”
“I know. You were always open and honest. You've not changed. I have. And for the better, I add. Knowing you weren't tainted by my behavior as a teenager is a relief.”
Imogen and Dylan joined them.
“The Brighton College crew reunited,” welcomed Susan.
“Are you okay?” asked Dylan.
“She's fine,” answered Rupert on her behalf.
“Susan-Marie can speak for herself.”
“I am fine, thanks for asking,” assured Susan, placating.
“Rupert, seriously, Liz looks on the verge of tears. Sneaking out here with the toast of Broadway isn't easing whatever insecurities she has,” remonstrated Imogen.
Susan threw Rupert a frown, letting him know she didn't believe a word regarding his “friendship” with Jasmine and Elizabeth.
“I'll go collect her. Take her to dinner now–if Radmacker's finished with her.”
“We should catch up properly. Just us four,” suggested Imogen.
“We should, but as I said earlier Imogen, as wonderful as the flowers were you didn't leave me a number to call. How could I forget you and how could I not want to catch up with you?”
“Rupert, you go inside to Liz. I'll sort out the exchange of phone numbers.”
Bossy as she was, no one could question his sister's efficiency. “I'll see you around,” he muttered.
Rupert took a step forward. Closing his eyes, remembering his school days stopped him in his tracks. Trotting to the trio, hands gripping cell phones, eyes squinting at the screens, he took a leap of faith.
“Sorry. Can I have one quick word with Susie?”
“Shouldn't you check on your girlfriend?” needled Dylan tersely.
“She's not my girlfriend,” responded Rupert automatically.
“She's not his girlfriend,” said Imogen, echoing him by less than a millisecond.
“Even so, she's in there by herself,” reiterated Dylan.
“A quick word is fine. Callum and Jonathan will be taking care of her I'm sure,” appeased Susan.
Rupert walked with Susan two shops down from the gallery.
“Can I still call you for a date?”
“A date or friends having a coffee?”
“I'd like a date, but if you prefer friends...”
“I'd prefer not to become the next Liz or a Jasmine.”
“You have my solemn word that won't happen.”
“Where have I heard that before?”
Susan left him to return to Imogen and Dylan.
CHAPTER 7
Rupert's legs pounded hard on the treadmill as he upped the speed to running pace. The quick-moving machine forced him to concentrate solely on not falling off and maintaining the speed. Breathing, staring straight ahead and running cleared his mind. Finally it was empty of Susan-Marie Thompson.
The gallery opening had been a complete and utter disaster. Imogen had thrown him into an unbelievably complex situation. Admittedly it wasn’t her fault directly, but why she had sent flowers to Susie was beyond his comprehension.
She did it because she's a nice person. She did it because she's proud of what Susie's achieved. She did it because she was worried Susie may be lonely. She did it because she wanted Susie to know, despite her early departure from Brighton College, she hadn't been forgotten. She did it out of the goodness of her heart. She didn’t do it to put a monkey wrench in my smooth, manageable social life, acknowledged Rupert. It may have been the end result, but it wasn't Imogen's fault. Putting her in the freezer and refusing to take her calls or answer her texts wasn't fair of him.
Rupert mentally promised himself to call her after the gym on his way to work.
As for Liz, Imogen was right. She did love Rupert. Elizabeth wasn't a stupid woman or naive. Upon hearing Rupert's broad ran
ge of extracurricular activities, she knew those that didn't include her meant he was engaging with other women as his companion for those specific sojourns. He'd taken her to his penthouse apartment. He'd let her cry. He'd tenderly refused her imploring to have sex. But he had held her through the night. Holding his hands up, he could genuinely say he had no idea she was thinking long-term. Telling him how she felt and what she wanted, Rupert couldn't continue the friendship. It would be cruel and unfair. He hadn't pitied her when she'd wept saying he might learn to love her if given the chance. It hurt his heart to have wounded such a lovely lady. He could only wipe her tears away.
“I thought you were a late gym attendee. If I'd known you did mornings, I'd have slept in.”
Rupert frantically pressed the button to slow the speed of his tread mill, but slid off of it. Athletic and composed, he did nothing more than stumble shakily for a second or two before standing upright.
If that had been me I'd be flat on the floor, thought Susan. Stepping on the treadmill next to him, she walked slowly.
“I didn't have you pegged as a morning person.”
“I'm not,” said Susan shrewdly. “I was trying to avoid you.”
“Oh. There goes my incentive to call for that date.”
“I'm sure Jasmine or Liz will fill in.”
“I don't want them to.”
For a second Susan could have been fifteen again. The easy way the Adonis was chatting to her was steady and secure. In his regular gym clothes he was unaware of how perfect he looked. His appeal wasn't limited to her. He caught the eye of every passing woman. In her mind she applauded Rupert. She could not think of any other person that could make exercise and building up a sweat sexy.
“No one wants to play second fiddle, Rupert.”
“I know. I didn't mean for Liz to feel she was second fiddle. Compared to you though, she is. My seeing her though wasn't based on that. Obviously not. We'd been friends a while.”
Susan wasn't sure she wanted to discuss Rupert's love life. The last time she had it ended disastrously. “It's easy to say that now.”
“Easy or not, it's true. I felt awful yesterday and worse this morning.”
Anger flared in Susan. He didn't feel bad enough not to take Liz home to sleep with. “What was bad about last night?” she couldn't stop herself from asking.
Susan knew her heart was an accident waiting to happen. It was as if she was on the outside watching it happen all over again in slow motion.
“I took her home to clear the air. Explain I thought we were friends. She told me she was in love with me. I didn't know what to do. I just held her, but I think maybe that was wrong. Maybe that sent out the wrong signals too.”
“Is that all that happened?”
“Of course. What kind of man do you think I am?”
Narrowing her eyes, Susan chose not to refer to the past. “How did you leave things?” she pumped.
“Up in the air. I can't be friends with her if she's hoping there's a chance my feelings will change. But to hear someone say they don't love you must be crushing.”
“It is.”
“Susie?”
“Rupert, don't.”
“I never got a chance to.”
“It's been fifteen years. You don't have to. I don't want you to. The moment has long gone,” she spat the words out bitterly.
“For what it's worth, I kept an eye on your career. You were always going to go far.”
“Thanks. And to think, I got my first lead on a national tour while I was still fat.”
Rupert was unsure what to say. His pained expression softened Susan. “Have you told her?” asked Susan.
“Who?”
“Liz.”
“Told her what?”
“The truth.”
“God no,” exclaimed Rupert.
“Then you should. If you have any affection or genuinely care for this woman, as you claim to, tell her the truth about how you feel. She might get upset and cry, but at least she won't be left hanging. It's better than her lying to herself for years, because she dreams of a happily-ever-after with you. Spending a night with her does not send out the signal that there's nothing there. Right now, she's probably talking to her mum or crying down the phone to her friends asking for advice, desperately hoping she can be the one to change you.”
“But she can't.”
“Exactly. And that's what you need to tell her. Otherwise, I promise you she won't let go. She'll cling on in the vain hope you'll notice her and fall for her. In the meantime, I guarantee you she'll put her entire life on hold for you and you'll never come through for her. If you don't want that for her, you need to tell her you'll never be there for her in the way she wants. Free her to find a man that can. Do it properly. None of this let's be friends business. Keep that up and you'll be in the same boat, leading her on. Tell her to find a man who isn't self absorbed.”
“That's harsh.”
“Harsh but true. How could you fail to notice she was madly in love with you?”
“I didn't know.”
“Because you were focusing on your needs and wants, not hers. She was there providing a service to you.”
“I thought our friendship was mutually defined. I'm not that cold and calculating.”
“No? My memory disagrees.”
“Susie, a boy can grow up.”
“You just said Liz couldn't change you. If you can't be changed, why would you be any different now to—” Biting her bottom lip, the tears stung her eyes.
“To what I was back then?”
Shrugging her shoulders, Susan didn't trust herself to speak without tears flooding.
“It's tough to be judged and labeled for the rest of your life for something you did when you were eighteen. I like to think I've grown up. Become a man, seen life, developed a better understanding of people.”
“Why do I get the feeling Jasmine and Elizabeth might present a strong counter argument?”
“Why are you obsessed with Jasmine and Elizabeth?”
“Because you're leading them on. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt, as they say. I don't want to see anyone else hurt like I was.”
“You don't know anything about me or my relationships.”
“No. I don't. I only know what I've witnessed and I had a strong surge of empathy with them.”
“What would you suggest I do then? I'm not there to hurt them. I'm there to enjoy their company and...”
“Have sex with them?”
“No.”
“You're sleeping with all of them.”
“Susie. It's not appropriate to discuss that. Least of all in a public place like a gym.”
“I'll take that as a yes, then.”
“Believe what you want.”
“You're not denying it.”
“I don’t answer to you, Susie.”
“No, and you never did.” She stepped off her treadmill.
“Don't tell me you're going,” said Rupert. “You’ve barely broken a sweat. A grandmother could've outrun you. You can't have burnt off more than five calories.”
“Always down to my weight isn't it Rupert?”
“Susie, it was a joke. I didn't mean anything by it.”
Realizing she actually was leaving, he bounded off his machine to follow.
“Susie, please just wait.”
Sighing she stopped, hating herself for having no willpower. “Rupert. We can't pretend it never happened. Do you want mornings or evenings?”
“For a date?”
“I really want to be cross with you Rupert.”
“That suggests you aren't,” he said flirtatiously.
“No, it suggests it isn't in my nature to be cross with people. To avoid run-ins like this, as we'll share the same gym for the next six months, tell me if you'd prefer to work out in the mornings or the evenings.”
“I'd prefer not to be restricted or have the terms of my membership dictated to me.”
“Alright,
fine. I was hoping to make this less stressful.”
“I'd be less stressful if you let me take you out for dinner.”
“Hey babe!” Jasmine passed Rupert, giving him a peck on the cheek. He grimaced in embarrassment. Susan reminded herself he may be too hot for his own good, but that didn't make him a nice person.
