So I accepted, and I responded with a fine meme of my own of a girl squatting with the text, ‘When I hear, no man wants a girl that’s stronger than him, and I’m like, ain’t nobody looking for a weak ass man either.’
I waited one minute for him to see it, but since he didn’t, I locked my phone and decided to head back to the others. I had only just returned to my seat by the time a notification lit up my screen.
Eager to see his response, I didn’t hesitate to open it.
‘Haha that’s the spirit’
‘How’s revising going? Getting frustrated yet?’
His brilliant pun led me to like his message. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he’d referred to the doctrine of frustration which was a common law doctrine relevant to Contract Law. After last Friday, he was well aware I was currently revising for precisely that module. Again, his impeccable humour triggered an uncontrollable giggle to sprint out of my mouth, which earned me a curious glance from both Olivia and Aaron.
“Sorry, just a meme,” I apologised.
‘Frustrated indeed. Nice pun’
‘I think having lunch with me today might help you out of said frustration’
I rolled my eyes. So that was his motive, was it? I had to give it to him – the man had remarkable perseverance. How many rejections would it require for him to realise that it wasn’t going to happen?
‘Do you? I am shocked’
‘That would probably frustrate me more than revising ever could tbf’
After I’d pressed Send, I paused for a moment to reflect on what I had just done: how natural the decision to reject him had seemed. It occurred to me then that it was actually becoming a habit. I’d hardly given a thought to it, and I found it fascinating. This was quite the contrast to the first time he’d asked to meet me again; I vividly recalled how difficult it had been for me to reject him back then. I hadn’t been entirely certain that it was the right course of action. Now, on the other hand, I took his offer for granted. I was expecting him to ask again, and again, and again, until I perhaps – one day – changed my mind, although I wouldn’t.
I couldn’t be at all certain that his interest would be perpetual, and yet I conceitedly acted as though it would be. Perhaps this had been the last time he would ask, and I had wasted my chance without a second thought.
‘You are ever pessimistic’
‘I could have a look at your notes, for example. Help you get a top score’
‘All I’m suggesting is a normal lunch between two friends’
Friends. I stared at the word for a while, and I didn’t appreciate the way my heart responded to it, because it took a deep dive in my chest, the beats growing stronger but slower. I read ‘friends’ as a rejection in disguise. The fall from my high horse was certainly a painful one. Was he seriously friend-zoning me?
We could never be friends, I thought, embittered, and we couldn’t for the simple reason that I didn’t lust after my friends the way I lusted after William. I would never be able to view him in a platonic light, and I was offended by the idea that it wasn’t mutual.
Or was it? It wasn’t impossible that he was only being devious. After all, I’d already noted his sly tendencies.
What was his scheme? I couldn’t read him. Was he writing to me in a genuine effort to befriend me, or was he looking to capture me once and for all? I really couldn’t tell. It was plausible he sought to be my friend because of our relationship with Jason. In the end, it was inevitable that our paths would cross for the rest of our lives, so perhaps he was simply trying to make the best of it, and he thought pursuing a friendship with me would be the way to achieve it.
Since I didn’t know what to think, I opted for an ambiguous, albeit humorous, answer inspired by one of my favourite comedies, The Inbetweeners. It was an image of the character Simon from the show, and he was holding his thumbs up while saying, ‘Oh, friend.’
‘Haha Simon. What a legend’
‘Not sure I can be friends with a briefcase wanker’
‘Bus wankers only?’
His wit really was flawless, and I was delighted he’d caught the reference.
“Who are you texting?” Olivia suddenly queried, and when I looked up, I found her regarding me with an arched brow. Her question drew the attention of Aaron, who paused typing on his computer to gaze in my direction. Looking into his kind eyes filled me with guilt all at once. I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong – we weren’t a couple – but since it was novel to remain in touch with one of my previous bed partners, it seemed immoral even though it wasn’t.
“Phoebe.” I uttered my sister’s name as though it were the obvious answer.
“She’s awake?” Aaron questioned, surprised, and blood rushed to my face upon his astute remark. “Isn’t it like six o’clock in New York?”
“She’s just woken up,” I lied again.
“Right.” He frowned, and I knew he didn’t believe me, but he refrained from probing me further. “Tell her I said hi, then.”
“Me too,” Olivia said. “How is she liking Columbia?”
“She loves it,” I said dismissively and focused on my phone because I wanted to avoid further interrogation.
‘Lol maybe’
‘Anyway, I appreciate the offer, but I honestly haven’t got time. Exam’s on Friday’
‘I’m hardly allowing myself toilet breaks atm’
‘Christ’
‘You clearly need training in stress management’
‘I’d be happy to tutor you in that as well. You’d get a 100 % discount’
Since I sensed both Aaron and Olivia stealing glances in my direction, I pressed my lips together to hide my smile.
‘Full-on life coach, aren’t you?’
‘Accept and you’ll find out’
‘Limited offer’
‘I need to get back to revising. Enjoy your lunch’
With a sigh, I put my phone aside and told myself not to check it again for the remainder of the day, but I failed every hour and was equally ambivalent every time I saw that he hadn’t sent anything else.
§ § §
All through Wednesday, I’d checked my Instagram more than usual because I’d both dreaded and hoped to find another message from William. However, following my rejection on Tuesday, he hadn’t initiated any contact. I’d opened our message thread several times throughout the day only to see that he’d been active now and then, but it hadn’t been to message me.
So, by today, which was Thursday, I’d managed to recover some of my self-control and had hardly checked. He’d been active on occasion, but since I no longer expected to hear from him, seeing it hadn’t bothered me all that much.
When the clock struck seven, I closed my textbooks, every tab in my Chrome window, and my Word documents to quit revising for the day. I was one of those students who always took the evening before my exams off to let the information process into my long-term memory, so I planned to do some wall-staring for the remainder of the evening before I would go to bed at nine.
Because I relished reflecting, wall-staring happened to be one of my favourite activities. I could lie for hours at a time just staring at the ceiling while I contemplated life. Consequently, boredom was an entirely foreign concept to me, and I’d always been grateful for that. My mind entertained me endlessly, so I’d never been one to depend on external stimuli. Being stuck in traffic or waiting for the Tube was actually something I enjoyed because of that. Dad liked to say, ‘If you’re bored, it’s because you’re boring,’ and that statement resonated with me.
I wasn’t sure how many minutes or hours had elapsed when I reached for my phone to check the time, but upon seeing my screen, my heart did a flip.
William had messaged me again.
Sitting up with some excitement, I unlocked my phone to open it.
&
nbsp; 19:57
‘Good luck tmrw. Not that you’ll need it’
My emotions were conflicted. While I appreciated hearing from him and was charmed he’d remembered my exam tomorrow, I also wished he’d leave me alone, because this was precisely what I had wanted to avoid. I’d been thinking about him most of yesterday, and I couldn’t remember having checked my social media this frequently before, and it was only because of him. He’d become the distraction I had feared he would the first time we’d met, and seeing proof of it was only solidifying my desire to avoid him.
Nevertheless, I decided to reply.
‘I do though, but thanks’
A grin I hated surfaced on my mouth when he instantly marked it as read. He must have been waiting for my response. Soon enough, I was told he was typing a reply.
‘You’ll be fine’
‘You can’t know that’
When he sent an image of Bob the Builder with the text ‘YES WE CAN’ written across it, uncontrollable laughter burst out of me. His humour was frankly one of his most attractive attributes.
‘Omg’
‘Make Bob proud x’
‘I’ll do my best’
I chewed on my lower lip when I realised that his back must be starting to hurt from always having to carry the conversation. On the one hand, that was what I wanted, because if all I offered were dry replies, he’d be more likely to grow bored with me. But on the other, I felt I owed it to him to return at least a portion of his interest. I convinced myself it was the polite thing to do, so before long, I started typing, although I had no idea what to say.
‘Have you had a nice day?’
I gasped when he instantly saw it and proceeded to like it. Too late to unsend it, I thought to myself. Fortunately, he didn’t waste his time with replying.
‘What’s this? Are you actually showing interest in my wellbeing?’
‘I already regret it lol’
‘Haha. My day was fine. Miss teasing you, though’
He attached a cartoon of an adorable but angry chipmunk, which I stared at, nonplussed. What on earth was he implying?
‘The hell’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It’s you whenever I tease you’
Was that really how he saw me whenever I got flustered? No wonder he couldn’t stop himself from teasing me.
‘Omg’
‘Anyway, I don’t want to distract you right before your exam, so I’ll leave you to it’
‘Break a leg’
I wondered if he were actually busy with something else, or perhaps even someone else, and had said it only as a cover-up to place himself in a favourable light. After all, shouldn’t I have been the one to decide whether he was stealing my precious time or not? Knowing how many women he entertained, it was perfectly plausible that one of them had either just arrived or returned from the bathroom or something like that.
As soon as I heard my own thoughts, I frowned at myself. Why should it matter who he was with? He wasn’t mine, and I had no intention of pursuing him either. Regardless of whether he was with someone else, he had set aside the time to send me this encouragement, and I ought to appreciate that gesture. One way or another, he was only being kind.
‘Thanks’
By nine o’clock, he still hadn’t sent me anything else, and I noted to myself that I disliked his habit of always letting me have the last word. For some reason, it made me feel inferior. So yes, he’d explicitly said that he didn’t want to disturb me, but he’d done this last time as well. Knowing how sly he could be, I found it plausible that he was doing it deliberately, as some sort of strategic retreat. That was what bothered me about it. Was he playing games? Trying to attain some sort of psychological advantage? Unsure of what to make of it, I decided I would now pay careful attention to whether he would repeat this pattern.
After returning my phone to my nightstand, I settled for slumber, but I didn’t feel the least bit tired. In the darkness of my bedroom, memories of our sensual night together feasted on my mind. One by one, they paraded into my thoughts, regardless of how hard I tried to suppress them.
My pulse spiked as I imagined him above me and within me, mouth forming dirty declarations while he stared intensely into my eyes. I couldn’t breathe. Wide-eyed, I stared blankly ahead and felt an abundance of heat in my face. Hot and bothered, I writhed beneath the duvet, rigid.
“Jason!” I yelled when I’d spent hours chasing sleep to no avail.
A few seconds later, his familiar footsteps sauntered down the hall towards my bedroom. As he opened the door, I was presented with the view of his naked body, and I swallowed upon the sight. He would make a lucky woman very happy someday, and – hopefully – before his beauty withered with age.
“You called?” While rubbing his face, he leaned against the doorpost.
“Could you sleep here tonight? I can’t sleep. I need cuddles.”
A soft smile reached his lips before he nodded his handsome head and approached. “Of course, love,” he said and climbed into my bed.
“I love you,” I cooed.
“And I love you,” he replied and hooked his strong arm around me to scoop me into his familiar embrace. “When have you got to wake up?” he queried drowsily.
“Alarm’s set for half six.”
“Okay, I’ll make sure you wake up.”
“Thank you.”
“Sleep now.”
“Yes.” I snuggled closer and released a contented sigh.
§ § §
After completing our exams, Olivia and I were having dinner at Mary-Anne’s place along with Aaron and Tyler – the latter was Aaron’s flatmate of three years – when I boldly confessed to seeing little point in the Royal Family.
“That’s actual heresy,” Olivia remarked. She’d always been of the opposite opinion and fancied the tradition it entailed.
“I appreciate their charitable and diplomatic work,” I said, “but that, as well as everything else, can be executed by elected officials. I can’t stand the idea that people are born into roles like that. And how can we improve in the future if we won’t let go of the past? The monarchy has served its purpose. It’s outdated now. There’s no reason to keep it around. I mean, merely for the sake of history? Please.”
Olivia gasped as if I’d just cursed in church. “In times of need, we require one head at the top to gather the people,” she argued. “One who unifies the people under a common goal. Politicians can’t do that the same way the Royal Family can.”
“Listen, I regard the Queen with the utmost respect,” I insisted. “I think she’s wonderful. What I’m questioning is the principle. I don’t support the concept that people should be born into roles like that. And I also find it fairly ironic that they’re not supposed to have a political opinion. They’re supposed to be neutral. But isn’t politics what royalty was built upon in the first place? Wasn’t politics the reason monarchies came to be? I just think it’s ridiculous. We can have presidents and elected officials. Look at France, for example. They’ve managed superbly after abolishing the monarchy.” I continued to rant, “I seriously think it’s only a matter of time before we’ll move away from the constitutional monarchy as well. It’s outdated, to say the least.”
Across the table, I saw Mary-Anne smirk to herself while she raised a spoonful of ice cream to her lips.
“Quite the diatribe,” Tyler murmured and glanced at Aaron. “I can see why you like her,” he proceeded to joke.
I’d always liked Tyler, and I could understand why he and Aaron had been friends ever since secondary school – they were quite similar. Both were shy of conflict and preferred a conciliatory approach to almost everything. I could oftentimes be quite the opposite, and it was certainly a flaw.
“I disagree,” Olivia declared. “I think the Royal Family serves a unique diplomatic purp
ose, as well as an important general role in society. When or if a new war breaks out, the whole nation will be looking to Her Majesty the Queen, not the Prime Minister.”
“Er, to be fair, I think they’ll be looking to both,” Aaron intervened. “They certainly looked to Winston Churchill during the Second World War.”
“It’s irrational to think that we should keep the monarchy merely for the sake of tradition,” I grumbled to Olivia. “It must serve a practical purpose that will prove more lucrative than other alternatives. Imagine how we could administer the resources that go into maintaining the monarchy. It’s also a matter of caution that the head of the nation should only be allowed to sit for so long. We’ve seen how totalitarian a ruler otherwise can become. Have you learnt nothing from when you studied constitutional law?”
Soon after I’d said it, I leaned back and blinked. I hadn’t meant to sound so harsh. Fortunately, Olivia knew me better than most, so she took no offence. She merely shook her head and replied curtly, “We will never agree on this. And the separation of powers guarantees that no such thing can happen, so I actually did pay some attention while we studied constitutional law, thank you very much.”
“Biscuits, anyone?” Mary-Anne offered and sent the dish around the table. As soon as I saw them, I recognised them as my favourites. Mary-Anne made the best butter biscuits in the world.
“Oh, Mary-Anne,” I cooed. “Butter biscuits.”
“Of course, darling. I made them especially for you.”
“You shouldn’t have.”
“Of course I should have.”
“That attenuated the intense debate rather quickly,” Tyler commented after a chuckle.
“Cara is quite similar to a beast, actually,” Olivia laughed. “Feed her her favourite treats, and she’ll be placated.”
“I’m sorry. I’m too opinionated – I just get so engaged,” I apologised.
“Never apologise for that, my dear,” Mary-Anne insisted. “You’re a delight.”
Skin of the Night: Book One of The Night series Page 18
