Summer Skin

by Kirsty Eagar

  ‘Is he dead?’ Jess asked.

  ‘Could be,’ said Mitch.

  But as they passed him, Adrian’s lips moved. ‘Morning.’ And then, when they were in the kitchen and out of sight, continued in an undertone: ‘Rabbits.’

  Mitch, about to kiss Jess on the forehead, smiled.

  Jess snickered.

  •

  Mitch drove Jess to work that afternoon, heading there straight from Hamilton. The sun was setting, the sky bruised indigo and blushing crimson, and it was already dark enough for the lights of the city to be reflected in the river. Ladyhawke came on the radio and Jess turned it up. They were against the traffic, the sunroof was open, even though it was winter; they were free.

  ‘I should be there by ten-thirty, hopefully,’ Mitch told her. ‘Eleven at the worst. Just depends on how long it takes to get out of the car park when the game’s finished.’

  The Wallabies were playing the All Blacks that night at Suncorp Stadium. Jess was on top of all that, she just didn’t know who the All Blacks were.

  ‘No stress,’ she said. ‘Just text when you’re close. I’ll call Heather on my break, tell her I’m not coming home tonight.’

  ‘Actually, I said I’d meet up with Tony for a drink before kickoff.’ Mitch glanced across at Jess. ‘What are you smiling about?’

  ‘I don’t know. It just makes me happy that you know my uncle and aunt, and I know your brother. Is Adrian going to meet you there?’

  ‘I’m picking him up after I drop you off.’

  Jess wrinkled her nose. ‘I can’t believe he went into work on a Saturday.’

  ‘He was giving us a little privacy.’

  The way Mitch looked at her then, drawing his teeth across his bottom lip … Jess flushed. Mitch focused on the road again, well aware he’d made her spark just by looking at her. And she knew that he, like her, was thinking about the fact they’d be in the same bed again that night—the things they might do to each other. It was almost too heady to bear. She reached through the sunroof, letting cold air rush through her fingers.

  ‘I don’t want to go back tomorrow, Jess,’ Mitch said abruptly, a little later.

  ‘Let’s keep driving then. Run away to the Gold Coast and be beach bums.’

  ‘Be serious.’

  ‘I can’t be serious! I’m too happy. Aren’t you happy?’

  After a moment, Mitch nodded, his face softening. He glanced across at her. ‘It’s not going to change anything, is it? I can still see you all the time?’

  Jess smiled at him, happy he’d voiced it, because she’d been a little worried about what going back meant for the two of them, too. ‘Of course.’ Her smile faded. ‘The only thing is … Well, I don’t really feel comfortable about staying over at Knights. I don’t know if I ever will.’

  Mitch frowned, focusing on the road again. ‘God, I wouldn’t put you through that. I’ll come to yours.’ They were silent until they stopped at the Ballow Street lights, and then he said, ‘Don’t go to the RE tomorrow, Jessie. I’m not going to make a habit of asking you to change your plans for me, but just this once, be with me instead. I don’t want to share you with other people yet.’

  Jess beamed at him. ‘Of course,’ she said again.

  •

  Jess scuffed her way through the reading room, her feet jammed into high tops that she hadn’t bothered to lace, twisting hair that she hadn’t bothered to brush into a knot on top of her head and securing it with a pen, buttoning her flannie. The only good thing with being so late to lunch was that she wouldn’t have to queue. She reached the courtyard, glancing through the dining room’s plate glass windows, wondering why Allie and Leanne hadn’t bothered to wait for her. They’d banged on her door not long after Mitch had left, running late for his first lecture.

  Inside the service area, she grabbed a tray, greeted enthusiastically by the kitchen staff, chatting to them about how her break had been. Then she helped herself to a large slice of lasagne, suddenly ravenous—she’d missed breakfast thanks to Mitch; although the chance of making breakfast was a fifty-fifty proposition for Jess on the best of days. She made her way out to the salad bar, piling food onto her plate, moving in a dreamy way, not so hungry now, thinking of him, a little smile playing around her lips. She glanced around the tables, still unable to see Allie or Leanne. Then she spotted a couple of fresher girls who’d signed up for the Unity basketball team, and decided on them instead. At the same time, one of them saw her, and nudged her companion, nodding in Jess’s direction.

  Jess froze, realising that of the hundred or so people who remained in the dining room, there wasn’t one who wasn’t looking at her. She blinked, not seeing a single friendly face. They were eyeing her as though she was a giant slug come to join them for lunch.

  A slow hand clapping started behind her, and she turned to see Leanne making her way inside from the outdoor section.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, there can only be one. I present to you Unity’s real Knight Rider.’

  At that, everybody started applauding, and Jess realised it had been a set-up. She shot Leanne a look. When the applause continued, along with whistles and shouted obscenities, she put down her tray and bowed to the room.

  ‘Just thought it was better out in the open,’ Leanne told her.

  ‘You’re probably right,’ Jess agreed, bowing once more.

  •

  The following Monday night, the Unity girls’ basketball team played their first game of the season. Midway through the second quarter, playing man-on-man defence, Jess snatched the ball cleanly from her opponent, dribbled past her and sent a long pass to Farren, who missed it completely because she was gazing in the other direction.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ bawled Jess, because they were already sixteen points down, and manners and civility had fled the court long ago.

  Farren pointed at Mitch, recently arrived and trying to pass undetected, hovering behind the paltry group of Unity supporters, and her face crumpled with mirth.

  ‘Farren!’ Jess roared, because the other team weren’t waiting for her to get it together. They seized the moment and scored. Jess seized the moment and then received a caution for barging—it should have been a foul, but she’d done it to her own teammate.

  And Farren, lying prone because Jess had knocked her over and she was laughing too hard to get up, raised her head long enough to wheeze: ‘Oh, my God, he’s being supportive. That’s hilarious!’

  CHAPTER 39

  LOVE IS TO DIE

  The wake-up call, when it finally arrived for Jess, was both literal and ugly. Five weeks into term she was jerked out of sleep by an urgent knocking, the sound unbearably insistent; a woodpecker hammering at her sleep-fogged brain. She blinked into focus, looking around groggily for clues as to what might be going on. She was in her bed at college, as normal, but the bed itself seemed unusually spacious. Mitch was gone. She checked her phone: Tuesday, 7.46 a.m. He had a lecture at nine. He usually took a shower around now, so maybe he’d locked himself out by accident.

  As another round of knocking started, Jess squinted at the door, noting it was unlocked. Then she realised it was probably one of her floormates; they no longer just barged into her room now that Mitch was in the picture. ‘It’s open,’ she called in a hoarse voice, turning over and burrowing into her pillow. ‘Take whatever you want,’ she added as the door opened, ‘but do it quietly.’

  ‘Morning, Miss Gordon,’ a male voice said. Jess’s eyelids flicked open and she stared at the bricks in front of her, but other than that she couldn’t move. ‘I’m looking for a friend of mine. You know him? Goes by the name of Killer—at least, he used to. Doesn’t like being called that anymore. You haven’t seen him around, by any chance? He’s been disappearing every night like a vampire, and we’ve been kind of curious about whose blood he’s been sucking.’

  Jess sat up, clutching her doona to her chest, feeling vulnerable for many reasons, not only because she was naked beneath it. D
ud stood just inside the door, wearing a navy hoodie and jeans, a backpack slung over one shoulder, his face amiable beneath his curly hair. But his eyes hadn’t changed, nor had the insect that lived behind them.

  Dud stepped closer, squatting down to peer at a pile of clothes like a tracker studying spoor: jeans, T-shirt, an old rugby jersey … He pulled a pen from his back pocket and used it to lift Mitch’s black trunks.

  ‘Well, he mightn’t be here now, but he’s been here.’ As Dud said this, he grinned up at Jess like they were friends, inviting her to play along.

  And the terrible thing was, Jess did. She forced a smile, although it was difficult, her face doughy and unresponsive, because at the back of her mind was the irrational thought that this guy was from Mitch’s circle, so she couldn’t embarrass herself. If she screamed at this creep, told him to get out of her room, he’d report back to the others: Completely unhinged. Acted like I was going to rape her or something. And she was just hopeful enough to think that if she did this thing, pretended his being in her room wasn’t entirely unreasonable, she’d win Dud over. Like a kid trying to convert a bully. Maybe he was there in some kind of lame attempt to bridge things with her. There was always that little testing period at the start between you and your new boyfriend’s friends, some careful circling, right?

  Dud, encouraged by her smile, became grandiose. ‘What have you done with him?’ he mock scolded.

  ‘He’s in the shower.’

  ‘What? Here?’ Dud asked, temporarily jolted. ‘In a girls’ bathroom?’

  Jess gave him a laugh. Not a real one, but a close imitation. ‘Well, yeah, but … Bathrooms don’t really have a gender at Unity.’

  ‘Fucking classic. Turn up at Unity and he’s off showering in the girls’ bathroom.’ The way Dud said it, you would have thought Mitch was in there with a harem. Jess realised that he wasn’t saying these things to her, but rather rehearsing, playing to an invisible audience: the guys he intended to tell this to later. And she felt sick.

  Dud dropped Mitch’s trunks. ‘So … how long’s this thing been going on?’

  Mitch hadn’t told them about her.

  When she didn’t answer, Dud seemed to read it as some kind of shameful admission, his voice taking on a nasty edge of triumph. ‘All right, Killer.’

  He straightened, glancing around the rest of the room, talking once again to those invisible others. ‘I knew something was going on, knew he had some dirty little secret—acting all cagey. But fucked if he didn’t walk right through the Unity gate. Knew the code. Straight up the stairs, easy as.’

  ‘Get out.’

  Dud acted as if he hadn’t heard, stepping closer to the desk, peering at one of the framed photos on the shelf above it. The one of Jess sitting on Mitch’s lap at Heather and Tony’s place, his arms around her, their smiles wide, faces relaxed. Heather had taken the shot, and she’d printed it out for Jess on the last day of the holidays, just before driving her back to college. As Dud studied it, he rubbed a hand over his grin, which stayed fixed in place—a mask.

  ‘I said, get out,’ Jess told him, panicked now, because for some reason him looking at that photo made her feel even more vulnerable than him casting her in the role of conquest.

  But Dud’s gaze had dropped to her rubbish bin. For a moment he just stood over it, staring down at the mound of balled-up tissues inside. Then he glanced at Jess, his eyes too hard, too bright. Knowing. ‘All right, Killer,’ he repeated.

  He left then, as quietly and carefully as a thief—made it a joke even, tiptoeing out of the room. He didn’t bother closing the door behind him. It was because of that, Jess heard them.

  ‘Here he is now. How are you, big man?’

  ‘Jesus, Dud. What are you doing here?’ Mitch sounded shocked.

  ‘Followed you last night.’ Dud sounded absurdly proud of himself. ‘Knew something must have been going on.’ His voice rose, becoming excitable. ‘How long have you been giving it to her? Since the fucking toga party, I bet.’

  ‘Dud, look—’ Mitch dropped his voice, his tone conspiratorial, mate to mate: ‘I’m going to have to ask you for a favour. Keep it on the down low for now, all right?’

  ‘Yeah, all right.’ Dud sounded surprised, but flattered, too. ‘Roger that, Killer. What’s the big …’ Jess didn’t catch the rest, because their voices faded. As if Mitch was showing him out.

  •

  That night, unusually for a Tuesday, Jess had to work—filling in for Georgie, who had something on. As she slid into the Subaru afterwards, Mitch stared at her expectantly, waiting for the kiss that was her normal greeting when he picked her up. When it didn’t come, his face hardened; a match for Jess’s expression. ‘We went over time,’ he said, pulling away from the kerb. He was still in his training gear, his hair spiked with dried sweat. ‘Did you get my text?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Were you waiting long?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘How was work?’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘I left as soon as I could.’ Mitch reached across, taking hold of Jess’s hand and placing it on his thigh—something she also usually did.

  She pulled her hand away. ‘I told you, I was happy getting the bus.’

  ‘I didn’t want you getting the bus,’ he said, grabbing her hand again. She tried to wrest it free, but he tightened his grip, swerving the car abruptly out of traffic and pulling up at a bus stop. He turned towards her, and they scowled at each other, continuing the tug of war, Jess resisting, Mitch’s strength winning, so that he slowly pulled her palm towards his thigh.

  A sharp blast from a horn made Jess jump. She glanced back. ‘There’s a bus waiting. You’ve got to move.’

  ‘Not until you put your hand on my leg.’

  Jess glared at him a moment longer, and then acquiesced, gripping his thigh as hard as she could, digging her fingernails in. ‘Happy?’ she asked.

  ‘Ecstatic,’ Mitch told her, flicking on his indicator. He pulled out into the flow of traffic.

  ‘You know this is not about you being late,’ Jess said, turning towards him.

  ‘What’s it about then?’ he asked, his eyes on the road.

  ‘Oh, come on. It’s about this morning.’

  ‘We’ve talked about that.’ Mitch turned up the radio and Warpaint flooded the car.

  Jess turned it down again. ‘That was hardly a resolution. You telling me I was overreacting and then scurrying off to your lecture.’

  ‘Tute.’

  ‘Whatever! How do you think it felt having that thing standing in my room? Counting the sex tissues in my bin. Like he was going to report back on how many times we’ve—’ Jess broke off as Mitch tapped the brakes hard, then just as abruptly accelerated so that the car lurched forwards again.

  ‘Seriously, Jess, it’s just Dud. He’s nobody. Nothing. He’s just a … a dud. Like I said, I’ll have a word with him. Tell him not to bother you again.’

  ‘It’s not just that.’

  ‘What now?’ Mitch asked, managing to convey disdain, irritation and weariness with just two syllables.

  ‘Why haven’t you told them?’ Jess hated the note of hurt in her voice. It meant she was vulnerable, and she didn’t feel like she could afford to be vulnerable. That’s where things were at between them: right back to the start, like nothing had changed at all.

  ‘Because I don’t answer to them,’ Mitch snapped, glancing across at her. Then he was forced to brake sharply, narrowly avoiding hitting the car in front of him as it stopped at a set of lights. The quiet that followed was red, prickling. ‘Let’s talk about it when we’re back at yours. I’m going to have an accident in a minute.’

  Jess rubbed her chest. Why hadn’t he acknowledged their relationship to anybody? Was it even a relationship? Maybe she’d misread everything. The traffic started to move again, and she said, ‘Why don’t I come to Knights tonight? You always come to Unity.’

  ‘You’re not coming to Knights.’

 
; ‘Of course not. Because then I might exist.’

  ‘Don’t be fucking ridiculous.’ He accelerated, zigzagging through the traffic, changing from lane to lane.

  ‘Please don’t speed,’ Jess said.

  After a moment, Mitch slowed, but he was breathing hard, his nostrils flared.

  ‘How is that ridiculous?’ she asked, back to the subject at hand. ‘What’s ridiculous is that I haven’t even seen your room yet.’ She felt like she’d been uncorked, all these things she’d only half-realised flowing out. ‘We haven’t been seen in public together—anytime there’s the opportunity, you make an excuse, unless it’s a Unity thing. You come to all my basketball games, but I’ve never watched you play rugby once.’

  ‘You said it would bore you shitless!’

  ‘Well, I bet if I’d wanted to, you would have put a stop to it somehow. Even my uncle’s watched one of your games, but not me. God, why didn’t I see this?’

  ‘See what?’

  ‘You tell me. There’s something going on. I just don’t get what it is. You’re not being honest.’

  Mitch rolled his eyes. ‘There is nothing going on.’

  ‘Don’t do that. You always make me feel like I’m being stupid when it’s something you don’t want to talk about. Explain it. Please. I can’t understand why you’d be keeping me a secret. Unless you’re ashamed of me or something.’

  Jess waited for him to respond, but Mitch was silent, his face hard, muscles working in his jaw. She pulled her hand back, and this time he didn’t try to stop her.

  ‘You know what? I think I should be alone tonight,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t play games.’

  ‘We haven’t had a night apart since we got back. Maybe it’d be good for us.’

  Mitch glanced across at her, his top lip curled, showing his teeth, and in that moment he looked so much like the guy she’d met in a laundry once she felt sideswiped. When he pulled up outside Unity, he left the motor running. Jess stared at him, her mouth dropping open, unable to believe that he really was going to just leave things there.