Summer Skin

by Kirsty Eagar

  ‘I don’t get it. I thought you’d be happy,’ Jess said with a frown, chalking her cue.

  ‘I am happy,’ Allie said, avoiding eye contact. ‘At least it’s official now.’

  ‘Updated-your-status official?’ Leanne asked. She turned her attention to Jess, who was lining up her shot, and hissed, ‘Softly.’

  ‘You go softly,’ Jess said, with a meaningful look at Allie.

  Allie, oblivious to this, started to play piano on the felt edging of the table, looking hurt and restless. ‘Sorry,’ she said, taking a step backwards.

  Jess lined up the purple four again. A night out at Lucky’s was a good thing—being in the Valley, away from St Lucia, was a welcome distraction. She took the shot, hitting the cue ball softly, as Leanne had wished. It kissed the four, which fell into the pocket with a satisfying plop, leaving her with a reasonable chance of getting the seven next.

  Leanne stalked around behind her to take a look. ‘Don’t even think about it, glory whore. Just block the hole. Speaking of which, had sex lately?’

  Jess pocketed the seven. ‘Nope.’ And deliberately messed up her next shot.

  The two guys they were playing had stopped paying attention when it became obvious they were about to get spanked. Although one of them, a tall, studious-looking guy in a Doctor Who shirt, kept glancing at Allie a lot. His turn was next. Jess handed him her cue, then sat on a bar stool, swinging her legs. She wanted a cigarette, but she wouldn’t give in. She’d told herself she was giving up for running. Really, it was another distraction, an alternative ache to focus on.

  A chorus of raised voices came from the other side of the pool area—most of them belonging to Unity people. The place was unusually empty for Student Night and things had an end-of-the-world feeling. People were probably at home, chained to their desks. Swot Vac started the next week, and after that, exams. Jess wondered again whether she should have joined Farren and the Z-floor guys for a movie at the Eldorado rather than drinking, so she was fresh for study the next day. But she wasn’t going to get drunk, she reminded herself.

  The Doctor was trying to talk to Allie as he lined up his shot. Jess felt sorry for him; he seemed like a nice guy. Normally, even if she wasn’t interested, Allie was always kind. He mishit the cue ball, which rolled a couple of inches and stopped short of actually connecting with anything, and Jess hoped he could at least appreciate it as a metaphor for his night.

  ‘Thanks for coming,’ Leanne told him, snatching the cue. She got down to business, pocketing balls in rapid succession. Amateur hour was over and the hustler had arrived.

  And that was when Jess saw Dud. Or maybe she heard him first. He was at the head of a large group of people who’d just entered the pool area; mainly guys, but there were a couple of girls as well. They were loud and noisy, a few of the guys mock scuffling with each other, and a bouncer drifted across to eye their approach. Dud saw Jess then, and she kept her gaze nailed to him. He took it as some kind of challenge, giving her the bird in response. But it wasn’t that. Jess was afraid that if she looked anywhere else she might see Mitch. Then the group converged on the bar and Dud was swallowed up.

  Leanne lined up the eight ball, but she was looking at Jess as she took the shot, her eyes narrowed. The eight ball ricocheted around the table before finding the middle pocket. The cue ball had stopped on impact, still spinning on the spot. Watching Leanne play pool was like watching a cartoon.

  ‘Knights,’ Jess said, by way of explanation.

  ‘What are you worried about them for?’ Leanne demanded. ‘I want them to come over here so that they get to pick glass out of their foreheads.’

  ‘I’m not worried,’ Jess said. ‘Back in a sec. Going to the bathroom.’ She wound her way through the club on legs that felt watery. Once inside, she stood beside the girls who were primping in the mirror and frowned at herself for a while. There was no need to panic. Mitch mightn’t even be here.

  She left, and walked straight into him coming out of the Men’s.

  Jess stopped dead, unable to keep the shock off her face. Mitch’s reaction was more circumspect. He blinked, and then raised his eyebrows, giving her a sleepy smile. Despite it being officially winter, and a crisply cold night, he wasn’t wearing a jacket, just a button-down shirt over jeans.

  ‘Heeey, you,’ he said, as though they didn’t know each other very well. Maybe he’d forgotten her name. ‘Been here long?’

  ‘A while. I saw your friends come in.’

  ‘The boys? Yeah, we’re celebrating.’

  Jess could see that. Mitch’s eyes were bloodshot and his joints seemed loose. She could smell the booze on him. ‘What’s the big occasion?’

  ‘Knights’ first game tonight. My first game as captain.’

  Jess nodded. ‘Congratulations.’

  He frowned. ‘I didn’t say we won.’ Then he smiled, like he was being clever. ‘But we did.’

  ‘And you’re drinking again?’ she asked, like you might say, And you’re well?

  ‘The team that drinks together, stays together.’ Mitch glanced at the room behind her. ‘Or maybe it’s plays together. I don’t know, some bonding shit.’ He finally met her eyes and it was like an electric shock. Jess dropped her gaze.

  ‘Well, you’re back on track then,’ she said, sounding shaken.

  ‘Like nothing ever happened. Good to see you, Just Jess.’

  When he’d gone, Jess looked around blindly, feeling like she’d forgotten something. It was some time before she noticed the person leaning against a mosaic-covered column watching her, her flaming red hair backlit by the lights.

  ‘I worked it out ages ago. You’re too uptight to get involved with somebody else’s boyfriend, so the only other reason it’d be a secret would be if it was a knight,’ Leanne said when she reached her.

  ‘It’s not what you think.’

  ‘Are you saying he’s not Fahrenheit?’

  ‘I’m saying it’s over,’ Jess said. ‘So you can tell Farren if you want, but there’d be no point.’

  ‘Do the knights know?’

  ‘I doubt it. He swore on his dead friend’s ashes that he wouldn’t tell them.’

  ‘That’s a bit dramatic.’ Leanne watched Jess closely. Then she asked, in a voice that Jess had never heard before, ‘Want to blow this hole and go to The Beat? Dance?’

  Jess shook her head.

  ‘Do you want to go home? I’ll get a cab with you.’

  ‘Oh God, don’t do that.’ Jess pressed her fingertips to the corners of her eyes. ‘You’ll make me cry.’

  ‘I’m just talking transport.’

  ‘No, you’re not. But I won’t tell anyone.’ Jess took a deep breath, pulling her shoulders back. ‘Let’s just get drunk.’

  ‘Thatta girl.’ Leanne sounded approving. ‘We were here first.’

  The two girls made their way out to the rooftop area, where a swimming pool glowed an unearthly blue in the chill of the night, and rejoined the Unity crowd, who were baking under a couple of heaters on the opposite side of the bar from the knights. Mitch was standing with two man mountains, the three of them forming a rough semicircle. There was a lot of back slapping going on. Loud voices. Besides the eight or so knights, there were at least four girls that Jess could see.

  Leanne lit a cigarette and blew the smoke over Jess’s head. ‘Did you ever find out why he wouldn’t have sex with you?’

  ‘No.’ Jess took Leanne’s cigarette and appraised it for a moment, noticing how badly her hand was shaking before she took a deep drag.

  ‘Probably because he cared about you.’

  Jess looked at her sharply. ‘Why would you say that?’ A stream of smoke accompanied the words.

  ‘You’ve given up,’ Leanne reminded her, taking back the cigarette. ‘He’s a knight. They’re not supposed to care about women. They’ve got standards.’

  ‘They’re not all like that,’ Jess said, looking in vain for Tipene. Instead, the person she saw was Sylvie, taking min
cing steps in shiny red heels towards Mitch, and mock tackling him from behind. Mitch regained his balance with difficulty, looking back under his arm to see her like he was worried he was going to step on her, his face amiable. Sylvie looked tiny next to him, impossibly fine. She was as drunk as he was.

  ‘Who’s she?’ asked Leanne.

  ‘No one,’ Jess said, getting an echo of memory. In a flash of jealousy that felt like a burn, she wondered if Sylvie and Mitch would end up having sex later that night. Julian was dead, so what would it matter? And if Mitch was drinking again, meaningless sex couldn’t be that far behind.

  •

  Time wasn’t a reliable thing when Jess was drunk. That night it slowed right down and nothing made sense. She felt like she was trapped aboard a lurching ship, the good ship Lucky’s, viewing everything with a peculiar kind of tunnel vision, so that people seemed to appear and disappear around her at random, and there were gaping holes in the night’s continuity. As she reached for what she hoped was her drink on one of the tall tables, she saw that in a feat of magic the place had suddenly become full and a DJ was playing. When did that happen? Even more puzzling, Michael Azzopardi was beside her, enthroned on a bar stool, and they were evidently midway through a conversation.

  ‘… their rugby team?’ He pushed dolefully at his glasses. ‘We’re gonna get killed.’ Jess squinted at him. ‘Looking pretty drunk there, Flash.’

  ‘No, I’m okay,’ she said, tottering forwards and then tottering back.

  ‘Well, while you’ve got your teeth out, I want to ask you about Farren.’

  ‘Don’t you mean Allie?’ Jess asked, confused.

  Michael shifted on his stool, seeming uncomfortable. ‘No, that’s a different thing. I’m thinking about running for president next year. It’s my last roll of the dice, you know? And I wondered if you knew what Farren’s plans were. Is she staying on, or moving—’

  ‘’Cause I think we should talk about Allie,’ Jess said, smacking the table, suffering a slight time delay.

  Michael bristled, looking around impatiently like a million other people were clamouring for his attention. ‘God, don’t you start. I’m doing everything right and I say one little not-quite-perfect thing and she gets the shits.’

  ‘So you are together?’

  Michael shrugged. ‘You tell me. She hasn’t talked to me all night.’

  ‘What did you say to her, exactly?’

  ‘I told her that I wasn’t interested in anybody else.’

  ‘But that’s good! Well done, you.’

  ‘No, wait.’ Michael spoke in a rapid monotone. ‘Then I said, I know there might be better-looking girls, but I just want to be with you.’ Jess made a gargling sound. ‘I know, I know,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Believe me, I know. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.’ Jess was laughing now, but trying to stifle it; a helicopter in trouble. ‘It’s not funny!’ he roared.

  ‘It so is!’ She slung an arm around his shoulders. ‘You poor, clueless bastard. I would actually feel sorry for you if your standards weren’t way too high.’

  ‘Look, I know Allie’s a glamour. All I meant was that if someone even hotter than her came along, I wouldn’t even look at them.’

  Jess made a weird snorting noise and sagged against him. ‘Oh God, oh God,’ she breathed. ‘Of all people, the one person you shouldn’t have said that to was Allie. Do you know how many selfies you’ve just spawned? You’ve probably—’ She broke off as someone pushed her roughly, and looked over her shoulder to see Mitch. His gaze flickered over the two of them in a way that made Jess wonder if he’d misread the situation: her arm around Michael’s neck, her body pressed against his.

  ‘Oh, hey, man.’ Michael twisted around, holding out his hand. ‘Michael Azzopardi. We played each other in first year. How’s your season looking?’

  Mitch ignored him, his eyes locked on Jess. ‘Sorry to interrupt. You dropped this.’ He handed over her Zippo, then stalked off.

  ‘What’s up his arse?’ Michael asked in a wounded voice. ‘Does he think I’m not up to his level or something? I’ll fuckin’ show him.’

  ‘Just likes everything his own way,’ Jess said flatly.

  •

  The wrong end of the night. Everything spinning, getting faster and faster, as though they were all about to be sucked down a drain. Jess swam against the current to reach the bathrooms. Inside, the music was muted, but the ringing in her ears was loud. Toilet paper all over the floor. Then she was back outside, walking into a remix of Grimes—she loved that song! And she saw Mitch, evidently waiting for her, propped up by the wall. He looked bleary-eyed; from drinking, from lust—all his old bad habits. But when he touched her hand, he looked wistful, and Jess crumpled.

  ‘Oh God, Mitch, look at you. Please don’t do anything stupid tonight.’

  ‘I just wanted … to tell you,’ he said, with some difficulty, placing one word after the other as slowly and carefully as dominoes, ‘that it’s … all … okay now.’

  Jess squinted, pulling her hair back so she could see him clearly. ‘What is?’

  Mitch nodded, as if confirming the question. ‘That’s, like … if you want.’ He rubbed at his face. ‘Let’s just … have sex.’

  When Jess finally spoke, she took as much care with her words as he had. ‘Mitch, I have to go now, okay?’

  CHAPTER 32

  LITTLE SECRETS

  Jess woke with a headache, grainy eyes, and a sense of disorientation. Something was wrong. As she checked her phone, she realised that she must have turned her alarm off and gone back to sleep, because it was a quarter to eight. Her microeconomics exam started in fifteen minutes.

  For a moment there was only the horrible cold feeling she got when faced with a situation she wanted to believe wasn’t happening, then she leaped out of bed, ripping her flannel pyjama pants off and tugging her jeans on, pulling her college jersey on over her pyjama top. She jammed her feet into her high tops without socks, not bothering to do up the laces, and pulled her hair back in a ponytail. Then she hunted around frantically in the chaos of books and paper on the desk for pens, a calculator and a ruler. She finally found her student card under a little reminder note she’d written for herself that said: The state of your desk reflects the state of your mind. Do not go into exams with your mind a tangled mess!

  •

  The exam was in the Parnell Building and Jess sprinted the whole way there. By the time she passed the physiology refectory, the crisp morning air was making her nose run, she was gripping her side because she had a horrible stitch, and her palms were a mess of gravel, blood and chipped skin. She reached the crowd of students waiting to enter, hardly able to believe she’d made it in time, and doubled over. She thought she heard someone say her name, but couldn’t tell over the sound of her own loud and laboured breathing. Then Jess recognised his Timberlands. And his legs, even though he was wearing jeans.

  There must have been a law or commerce exam as well that morning, in one of the other rooms, because, like her, Mitch was holding pens, pencils and his student card. Unlike her, he’d obviously rested, showered and breakfasted.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked, a look of concern on his face.

  And in any other circumstances, Jess would have found talking to him hard—she hadn’t seen him for weeks, not since that night at Lucky’s. But in exam time, that endurance test of stress, cramming, too much coffee and not enough sleep, when nothing was as it should have been, seeing Mitch again, talking to him, was suddenly the most natural thing in the world. He was a friendly face in the middle of a nightmare.

  ‘I slept in! I still had to—I must have turned the alarm off, but I—’ Jess broke off, making a gurgling, swallowing noise. ‘Oh God, I can’t remember anything. I had to go over all this stuff on—’

  ‘Jess, take a breath.’

  ‘—Edgeworth Boxes, and the Pareto thing again, because that’ll be on there for sure. Seriously, I woke up fifteen minutes ago. I can’t even—
’

  ‘Shh. Just breathe,’ he said, clamping one hand on her shoulder and squeezing it. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to ground her. ‘Take a big breath. Come on, with me.’

  Jess inhaled in time with him, staring into his eyes. So blue, so sure, so steady.

  ‘Again. Breathe,’ he told her. But Jess was distracted, because people around them were starting to shuffle forwards. The exams had been called, and she hadn’t even noticed. ‘Heaps of time,’ Mitch said firmly. He gently brushed the gravel out of her palms. ‘What’d you do, fall over?’

  Jess nodded, her hands stinging. Eyes stinging now; heart, too.

  ‘Okay, well, I want you to do something for me. I want you to stop thinking. Everything you need will be there when you need it.’ As he said this, Mitch tucked the collar of her pyjama top beneath her college jersey. ‘And when you first sit down, just concentrate on filling out your details properly—your student number, your name, all of that. Then, when they let you read the paper through, do that, and only that. Make sure you read the questions properly, understand what it is you’ve got to do, but don’t think about the answers yet.’ He was squatting now, tying the laces on her high tops, and Jess felt like a child being dressed, but she took a stupid comfort from it anyway. ‘When they tell you to start, that’s when you think about them. But not all at once. Just tackle one question at a time. Maybe do the easiest first.’ He looked up at her. ‘What do you think? Can you do all that for me?’

  Jess nodded, then glanced at the last of the stragglers making their way inside. ‘We’ve got to go.’ She took another deep, gulping breath. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘No need for that.’ Mitch straightened, so that he was looking down at her and suddenly very close. And for the first time, he seemed thrown. He frowned.

  Jess was frowning, too. ‘Mitch? I’m really glad that we saw each other one more time. Like this. I mean, like friends.’ He nodded slowly. ‘Would have liked to have been a little more groomed, perhaps.’ She gave him a wan smile. ‘Haven’t slept for two days, or even brushed my teeth. But, hey, I think I was looking this sharp when we first met, so it’s probably perfect for the goodbye.’