Summer Skin

by Kirsty Eagar

  ‘The sort who will do things.’

  Jess said nothing. After a moment, she heard him shift in the chair, the snap of elastic, the rustle of fabric. Quick, eager movements.

  ‘Underpants, too,’ she said.

  ‘Way ahead of you,’ he told her, and Jess rolled her eyes. Then she turned around to face him, her skin prickling with adrenalin.

  Blondie was slouched in the chair, fully naked, his elbows resting on the armrests, his legs planted apart, his whole positioning seemingly about displaying his cock, because that was all Jess saw, jutting up from the soft purse of his scrotum and a neatly trimmed patch of golden pubes. As she stared down at it, he tensed so that it pulsed, and she glanced at him in surprise. He smiled at her, but there was a cold burn in his eyes, and she wondered if he was angry or turned on, or whether, for him, they were exactly the same thing.

  Holding his thighs, Jess got down on her knees, suddenly unable to look at him, her nerve failing. When she didn’t do anything more, Blondie took hold of his penis and reached out with his other hand.

  ‘No touching!’ Jess jerked back, glaring at him. ‘I don’t want you holding my head, driving things. That would make me feel—’

  ‘Choked,’ he said apologetically.

  ‘—used.’

  He blinked. ‘Okay,’ he said, clamping his hands to the arm rests. ‘No touching.’

  He wanted it bad, that much was obvious. For some reason it helped Jess feel more in control of the situation. She cleared her throat, picking up his shorts. ‘I’m going to tie you there,’ she told him, her voice brisk, businesslike. ‘I don’t trust you otherwise.’

  Blondie exhaled, shaking his head. ‘Fine. Whatever it takes.’ He watched as she used his shorts and underpants to tie his wrists to the armrests, obviously not threatened at all. It wouldn’t stop him if he wanted to break free.

  ‘Why so impatient?’ Jess asked.

  Blondie looked at the ceiling. ‘It’s been a long time, all right?’ Then his head snapped back as Jess took hold of his penis, feeling it thick in her palm, pulsing in response to her touch. His hands tightened on the armrests and he narrowed his eyes in concentration, looking like he was in a rocket, preparing for blast-off. Jess slowly licked her lips, watching his eyes glaze, then lowered her head, her mouth opening, showing the tip of her tongue …

  And she stopped, letting his penis snap back against his stomach. ‘I don’t want you watching me either.’

  ‘You’re killing me.’

  ‘I’m embarrassed. I mean, I hardly know you.’

  ‘All right,’ he said through gritted teeth, closing his eyes.

  ‘Not enough,’ she told him, grabbing her cut-offs and sliding them over his head. Blondie started to protest, but shut up as she cupped his balls in her hand. So soft. So vulnerable. She stroked them gently, taking out the cable ties. Then she leaned over, letting her hair brush his penis and balls, his inner thighs. He groaned. She did it again, and as she was doing it, she threaded the cable ties loosely around his wrists. Then she straightened, gripping his knees. ‘Ready?’

  ‘Take a wild guess.’

  Jess pulled on the cable ties as hard as she could, snapping them tight.

  ‘Hey, what are you doing?’ Blondie asked sharply, not really worried yet. That came a moment later when Jess pulled the cut-offs from his head and he had visual. ‘What the fuck?’ He turned his head, straining to see her, then shuffled the chair around in a way that might have been comical if the stakes weren’t so high. ‘What is this?’ he demanded. ‘You take them off right now! Right. Fucking. Now!’ He screamed the last word out, flexing against the ties, his face reddening with the effort, the cords in his neck strained, his teeth bared. And Jess’s heart stopped, because she really thought he’d snap them, and when he did …

  There was a frenzied knocking on the door. Blondie and Jess froze, staring at each other like co-conspirators.

  ‘Hey, Jess! Is everything all right?’ The voice was as familiar as family, but, for a moment, Jess couldn’t place it. Blondie looked to be having the same struggle with returning to reality. Then she realised it was Allie.

  ‘I think so!’ Jess shouted. ‘Just hold on a sec.’ She lowered her voice, asking Blondie, ‘Am I okay? Or do I need help?’

  ‘You can do anything you want. Anything,’ Blondie hissed, violently shaking his head, ‘but don’t let them in. Do not let them in!’

  There were muffled giggles and whispers outside the door. Due to interest in the Knight Rider challenge, the whole of T-floor might be collected there, if not most of the girls in college, Jess thought. Blondie seemed to have reached the same conclusion.

  ‘You can’t struggle,’ Jess warned. ‘You just have to take it.’ He nodded in frantic agreement. ‘No, I’m good!’ she shouted. ‘He’s going quietly.’

  Blondie exhaled, looking down at his dying erection, and Jess suddenly lost it, wracked by silent giggles. It was the only way to release the adrenalin still zinging around her system.

  ‘Yell if you need us, okay, girl?’ Allie shouted. ‘We’ve got your back.’

  The giggles and whispers outside the door faded. Then Blondie and Jess were alone again. Their eyes met, and Jess winced. He looked murderous.

  ‘Nemo me impune lacessit,’ she told him.

  ‘Latin?’ he said in a sour voice.

  ‘No one wounds me with impunity.’

  ‘S’pose the blow job’s off the menu then.’

  ‘Afraid so.’

  ‘Not that kind of girl?’

  ‘Not for you, anyway.’

  ‘Are you sure about that, Jersey? Because I felt how wet you were, remember? I think you’re pissed because I said I wouldn’t fuck you. You wanted it.’

  Jess coughed a laugh. Then she smiled, shaking her head. Because for the first time that night she held the balance of power, and it wasn’t because he was tied to a chair.

  It was because he was wrong.

  ‘I doubt it,’ she said.

  She walked around behind him, sliding her hands over his shoulders and down his chest, murmuring the words in his ear, her voice low and throaty: ‘Let me tell you something. I was wet. I got turned on. I liked you touching me. For a moment there, I even liked you telling me what to do. But that doesn’t automatically mean I wanted to have sex with you.’ She stroked his nipples, feeling them tighten, watching his erection return. ‘You’re not irresistible. All it means is that I’ve got a body, just like you. And in that body, there’s a heart and a brain. I’m human. And if you think about it, that’s the complete opposite of what you seem to have mistaken me for.’

  ‘A slut?’

  She flicked the head of his penis and he swore with pain, deflating rapidly.

  ‘A blow-up doll.’

  CHAPTER 9

  TEETH

  Jess slumped over the desk, her head resting on her outstretched arm, and used her room key to scratch STU into one of the desktops in Unity’s library. It was a gloomy space punctuated by shafts of sunlight from tall, narrow windows; a graveyard of old desks and bean bags, ancient textbooks and dust-covered ferns. Jess had dragged herself down here thinking she’d start the year off well by getting ahead on her assigned readings. Well, that and she was avoiding Farren; this place was one of the only locations in Unity where you could truly be alone. The problem with that, though, was she only had a hangover and gloomy thoughts for company, and her laptop remained closed. Maybe she should have gone for a run, instead.

  Someone knocked on the door, making the glass pane rattle, and Jess started.

  ‘It’s only me.’ Leaving the door open behind her, Allie drifted across to sit on the edge of Jess’s desk, propping her feet on the back of a chair. She was definitely more girl-next-door than goddess today: her hair lank and in need of a wash, the eyeliner she’d worn to the toga party still smeared around her bloodshot eyes. She was in a pair of leggings and an old stretched T-shirt that she kept pulling over her knees as if trying to make a t
ent to hide in. All signs that Allie had entered the down phase of the Allie Mood Cycle.

  ‘So, this is the library. How exciting!’ she crooned with a small smile, raising her shoulders. But her heart wasn’t in it. ‘Been missing this?’ She handed Jess her phone.

  ‘I’ve been looking for that everywhere! Where’d you find it?’

  ‘Leanne was using it.’

  ‘God, she’s a ratbag.’

  ‘She wants Farren and me to convince you to sell the Telstra shares.’

  Jess, about to flick her phone case open, placed it on the desk instead, giving Allie a worried look. ‘Do you want to sell?’

  Allie shrugged. ‘Don’t care.’ As if aware that she’d slipped and sounded as flat as she felt, she laughed. ‘It’s your show, girlfriend.’

  ‘Okay, I’m gonna hold a bit longer then,’ Jess said, running a hand through her hair. It was a relief to focus on something other than the dramas of college. To focus, instead, on something related to her future, which, to Jess, was like a bright, shiny city, one where she had it all going on. ‘Everybody thinks the board are going to have to make an announcement soon because the—’ she broke off, noticing Allie was holding up a hand, making a face.

  ‘Don’t care. Won’t care,’ she said, with gentle emphasis.

  ‘Okay, okay.’ Jess had convinced the other three to go in with her on the trade, not because she needed them, but because she’d been so certain about it at the time that she hadn’t wanted them to miss out, and by lumping their money together they only paid one lot of brokerage. But now she was worried in case it didn’t come off. Allie, like her, worked part time, and Jess knew that was where her dollars had come from. Thanks to her parents, Farren was always solvent. But Leanne—God knew where she’d got the dosh; it was best not to ask. Didn’t mean she didn’t need it, though, Jess thought, and she grimaced. ‘Do you think I should sell some off for Leanne?’

  ‘Little Miss Now? The only reason she’s pushing for it is because you’re not giving her what she wants. Make her wait. It’ll be good for her. And don’t put too much pressure on yourself. If it doesn’t work out, it’s not the end of the world.’

  ‘Oh, thanks, Al,’ Jess said, giving her a grateful smile. Her voice changed, becoming more cautious. ‘How’re you doing today?’

  ‘Fine, honey. Why wouldn’t I be?’ Allie’s voice was bright, but her smile faded.

  ‘Okay.’ Jess nodded. ‘That’s good.’

  ‘Anyway, I should scoot.’ Allie stood up, pasting the smile back on. She twinkled her fingers at Jess. ‘Laters, lovely.’

  But just before she reached the door, she turned around. ‘Hey, Jess? As someone said to me recently, if you put yourself out there, sometimes you cop it, but you don’t let the haters get you down, okay? You just block ’em and move on. Post something with a big smile, show your teeth. Because …’ She shrugged, her eyes a little too bright. ‘Well, good or bad, the fact they’re there is a kind of power. Look at me—nobody used to know I existed. Girls like you and Farren, you’re loud and quick and funny, and you’ve got opinions. But for people like me, that’s hard. Then one day, I just thought, Fuck it. I’m going to pretend to be confident. Tits, tongue and teeth. That’s how easy it is, really. Just don’t ever let them see they’ve gotten to you. Act confident.’ With that, she left.

  ‘Oh-kaaay,’ Jess said, blinking at the empty doorway. It didn’t occur to her that Allie’s shake-it-off speech was for her benefit; she thought it was solely a reaction to the comment she’d made the night before. Bad timing, because she already felt fragile, but maybe it was good that Allie was opening up. Jess turned her attention back to the heavily abused desktop, scratching out a D, then STUT. Someone had written, I’m from F-floor, which was kind of funny. Unity’s floors were named alphabetically, but with quite a few gaps. So while there was an E-floor and a G-floor, F didn’t make an appearance. It was a phantom floor.

  She was working on a new line, S followed by L, when a call came through on her phone, and she let it ring out, knowing without checking it was work. The ringtone was Lady Gaga, and chosen specifically. She scratched out U and T, and then listened to the message. After eight months of working for her boss, Vivian, Jess knew you never tackled her head on. You listened to what she wanted and gave yourself a chance to formulate your excuses before you spoke to her. But it wasn’t a big deal. Vivian only wanted her to start half an hour earlier than rostered.

  She tapped Home. Four missed calls from Brendan, three texts from Brendan, one text from Farren and—holy shit!—196 notifications on the Instagram tile. She’d never reached triple digits before! It was probably due to the photo of Blondie she’d loaded in the wee small hours of that morning. Jess tapped the screen, feeling her spirits lift, sure she was about to read a wave of praise and appreciation from the Unity crew.

  The first comment was from a username Jess didn’t recognise: dudisbigyo. You fucking disrespectful slut. He should have done you up the … And it was all downhill from there.

  ‘Oh my God.’ A creeping cold came over her skin. The other comments were just as bad, if not quite as graphic. Sprinkled among them were positive comments from Unity people, but Jess didn’t even take those in. They were drowned out by what seemed like a flood of bile evenly split between the photo of Blondie and the photo Leanne had taken of her in the Knights jersey: Look at her posing. Thinks she’s hot. HA, HA, HA, HA! Dirty thief.

  Jess clamped a hand over her mouth. That pose, that stupid, stupid pose. Pouting, for fuck’s sake.

  How could so many of them have known who she was already? The answer was obvious, but Jess checked Allie’s account to be sure. Allie had re-grammed all of the Knight Rider challenge photos, giving full credit to those responsible. Why? Because she’d been asked to—Jess and Leanne had wanted maximum coverage of the knights’ humiliation.

  At that moment, the glass pane in the door started to rattle. A rhythmic thudding from outside in the hallway grew closer and louder and Jess froze. Then Farren strode into the library, bouncing a basketball, little clouds of dust rising from the carpet with each thud.

  ‘There you are!’ she demanded. Thud. ‘Didn’t we agree this was practice time?’ Thud. ‘I want to suck less this year.’ Thud.

  ‘Sorry, I forgot,’ Jess said, trying not to sound guilty. She wished she could see Farren’s eyes. She was wearing her aviator sunglasses, along with an old O-week shirt and a pair of board shorts Jess was sure belonged to Davey Walters. ‘You are the only person I know who wears pom-pom socks.’

  ‘And not even ironically. What’s this?’ Farren peered at Jess’s handiwork.

  STUD

  STUT

  SLUT

  ‘Stud to slut in two moves,’ Jess told her.

  ‘I can do it in one.’

  ‘Change the attitude?’

  ‘Remove the penis.’ Thud … thud. ‘What are you doing down here, anyway?’

  ‘Oh, nothing. Reading and … freaking …’ Jess held up her phone, then realised it was nothing she could share with Farren and snapped the case shut. ‘My boss called. She’s kind of—I don’t know, scary.’

  Thud. ‘She’s good at her job, though, right?’ Thud. ‘I mean, would you rather your boss was a warm, mothering idiot or a woman who is actually on top of what’s going on and doesn’t appreciate having her time wasted?’

  Jess licked her lips. ‘Are we talking about Vivian or you?’ Thud. ‘Can you please stop doing that? My head’s killing me.’ Farren caught the ball, lowered her sunglasses and fixed Jess with a death stare. ‘Okay, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the Knight Rider challenge,’ Jess blurted. ‘But I knew if I did, you wouldn’t let us do it.’

  ‘Damn straight I wouldn’t have let you do it. Do you know what that was like for me last night? Standing there, listening to Jarrod Keith—’

  ‘The beard?’

  ‘Yes, the beard.’ Farren’s tone was curt, her dark eyes flashing angrily. ‘The beard who is president
of the Knights student council. The person who went out of his way to find me so he could tell me that things were going to be different at Knights under his watch. To tell me that the three guys involved in the sweep didn’t get their applications for residency approved this year. He also said that he’d discussed things with the master, and, while they couldn’t do anything official without my taking things further, the master will certainly be honest if he happens to get a call from a potential employer asking for a character reference—which happens more than you’d think, old boy network and all that.’

  ‘Well, that’s good, isn’t it?’ Jess asked in a small voice.

  Farren made a noise at the back of her throat and pegged the ball at her head. Jess, luckily, ducked, and the ball bounced off the wall. ‘No! No, it wasn’t good. Because while Jarrod was telling me these things, I was forced to stand there and watch you and all the other idiots taking matters into your own hands and royally fucking them up!’

  ‘But we did it for you!’

  Farren stabbed the air with her finger. ‘Don’t! You did it for yourself. Because what happened to me made you feel angry and helpless, so you did something to make yourself feel better.’

  ‘That’s bullshit.’

  ‘Is it?’ Farren asked, widening her stance. ‘I know everyone here thought I should have taken it further. Taken a stand—put myself on the stand, more like it. And that’s my problem with the whole thing. People save their strong opinions for women. Why don’t they look at men? If I have to read another book or see another movie about a woman being courageous, I’ll throw up. Where are the books and movies about the men who do this stuff? But no, it’s always about the women. They not only have to get through it, they’re supposed to stand up, become a symbol, allow their whole lives to become derailed and defined by it. What if you don’t want to? What if you just think, Okay, so two guys watched me having sex without my consent. It wasn’t pleasant, but so what? Big. Fucking. Deal. I refuse to sacrifice myself to that.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Jess.

  ‘Oh, I’m not finished.’ Farren planted a hand on the desktop. ‘Because here’s the thing. As far as I’m concerned, I’m already a hero. You know why? Because I did the one thing nobody thought I would do after that. I ran for president. And you know why that makes me a hero? Not because I was making some big, brave statement, but because it’s what I’d always intended to do. I did not allow my life to change. Not even to make other people feel better. People bang on about women having the right to make choices—well, they need to realise women have the right to choose in these matters, too.’ Farren glared at Jess a moment. ‘You got that?’