Being Not Good: as opposed to being bad
Page 6
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Saturday was Best Friends’ Day! So I was excited about that as well as telling Blair all about my date with Davin.
The date had ended with a very steamy kiss in his car when he’d dropped me home. I’d figured why not start acting like his girlfriend with a kiss good night, and what had started out intending to be relatively innocent had definitely not ended that way. Not that I’d minded at all.
At nine on Saturday, I got out of bed and got ready to meet Blair. I had a tiny moment of sadness sneak in when I came across the dress Blair and I had bought for me to wear for the now-cancelled first anniversary date. I ran my hand over it for a moment and wondered where it had all gone wrong. I wondered what I’d done wrong.
But then I remembered I hadn’t done anything wrong.
I hadn’t done anything but be the person I thought people would like. Well, all that person had got was dumped by a guy she thought she loved but who, in actual hindsight, treated her like everyone else treated her. Because without my rose-tinted glasses on, it was plainly obvious that Miles had probably cheated on me because he thought if I ever found out that I’d forgive him. He, like everyone else at school, seemed to think he could walk all over me and I’d take it.
Davin wasn’t like that. Sure he didn’t even bother trying to hide the fact that he thought I was an idiot. But at least he didn’t think I was any more idiotic than he thought everyone else was. To Davin, there was nothing special about me. I was the same as everyone else in his life. He looked down on me – literally and figuratively – and talked down to me like everyone else. But I saw something more in his eyes when he looked at me, something contemplative like he was actually paying attention to me and wasn’t just dismissing me.
I liked being me. But I wasn’t going to be that doormat again. I wasn’t going to let it be okay that my boyfriend cheated on me for any reason. I wasn’t going to let anyone talk down to me again. I was going to be fierce and never again was anyone going to be able to say that Avery St John was too good.
As soon as I worked out how…
“But that’s where Davin comes in,” I reminded myself with a smile as I hurried down the stairs.
“Morning, sweetie,” Dad called as my foot hit the floor.
“How did you know it was me?” I asked him with a smile as I stuck my head into the kitchen.
Dad grinned at me. “Because neither your mother nor your sister would be up this early on a Saturday and be so light on their feet.”
I giggled. “Ebony does have a tendency to sound like a baby elephant first thing.”
Dad nodded. “She does.” He looked me over like he’d only just actually looked at me. “You look nice. Where are you off to?”
“It’s Best Friends’ Day. So I’m going to pick Blair up and we’re going out!”
Dad’s next nod was a little vague as he frowned over his crossword. “That’s nice, sweetie. Have you got enough petrol?”
I did have to think about that one. “I think so.”
“Okay. Let me know if you need me to fill it up.”
“I am capable of filling up my own petrol tank, Dad.”
He looked up sharply, his bright blue eyes blinking behind his rimless glasses. “Oh…” he said slowly. “Of course you are, sweetie.” He gave me a weird smile. “Say hi to Miles for me.”
“Blair,” I reminded him. “Miles and I broke up.”
Dad’s eyebrows narrowed in confusion. “Did you?”
I nodded. “He dumped me.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, sweetie. I know how excited you were about that Perfect Couple thing.”
“Uh… Sure.”
“Are you okay…with it?” he asked awkwardly and I had to at least be grateful he was trying.
“I will be,” I told him honestly.
“Should I…have a talk with him? Man to man?”
Great. So even my dad didn’t think I could do anything for myself! Offering to fill up my petrol was one thing. But offering to…what? Have a go at my ex for me? I really wasn’t that useless, was I?
“No. Thanks,” I answered. “I…sorted it.”
Dad smiled at me with surprised pride. “Okay. Well I did always like Miles. But it’s his loss. You’re perfect to me, sweetie.”
I couldn’t help but smile back. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll, uh, see you later.”
“You home for dinner?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Blair…has plans.”
When I was supposed to be having my first anniversary date, Blair had planned to go out with her family for her sister’s birthday. She’d offered to avoid it – it just being Grace and all. But I told her she should spend her sister’s birthday with her.
“Okay. See you tonight.” Dad hummed as he went back to his crossword and I headed out to Mum’s car.
I drove very rarely. As rarely as possible. It’s not that it scared me…really. I just felt safer in other people’s hands. But I figured that Best Friends’ Day deserved me pulling my weight on the driving front. Plus Blair hadn’t been able to get a car for the day.
I carefully pulled out of the driveway and got myself to Blair’s house only five minutes later than our allotted time. So she was ready and waiting for me when I got there and jumped into the car with an enthusiasm to rival mine. But that was why we were best friends.
“So,” she started as I pulled away and headed for the mall, and I swear it was the last time she took a breath for what felt like ten minutes. “How was your date? Was he a gentleman? Was he not a gentleman? Did you kiss him? Oh! Did you sleep with him? Was he hot? Was he good? Did he you know? Did you go skinny dipping? What did you eat? Did he agree to be your boyfriend? Is he going to trash your rep? Are we officially not good girls anymore?” She finally took a breath as she grabbed my arm. “Did you get…arrested?”
I smiled at her as I kept my eyes on the road. “It was…nice.”
“Nice?”
I nodded. “Actually really nice. We talked and had chips and…” She gasped in excitement as I paused. “We did kiss.”
“Ohmigod,” she squeaked. “How was it? Was it good? Was he good? All the stories say he’s good!”
I laughed. “Where do those stories come from anyway? I’ve never seen him hook up with anyone from school?”
I felt Blair shrug. “Dunno. I assume someone’s hooked up with him. He just looks the type who’d be good at it. Don’t you think?”
“When have you looked at him long enough to know he looks like he’d be good at it.”
Before that week, I certainly hadn’t looked at him long enough to wonder if he’d be any good. There were rumours – there were always rumours – but I suppose I’d never really stopped to form an opinion about it. About whether he was actually as good as the rumours said, I mean. I’d sort of just added the rumours to everything that made him perfect to be the guy who helped me trash my rep.
“I haven’t. But someone must have. People say he’s good. Is he good?”
I nodded. “Yeah. He’s good.”
Blair and I laughed.
“Was he, like, sexy?”
“It was pretty sexy, yeah.”
She nodded like she knew about these things. “Grace says all Byronic guys are sexy.”
“What’s that mean? Byronic?”
Blair seemed to think about it for a moment, then shrugged. “I dunno. But apparently they’re like really good in bed. Attentive good. Like they care or something. They enjoy your enjoyment? I dunno. I couldn’t really keep up.”
“Is Davin Byronic?” I asked.
Blair nodded. “Grace says so.”
“How does she know?”
“Dunno.”
“Huh,” I mused.
“So…” Blair nudged me playfully. “He’s probably good in bed.”
I laughed. “Let’s just wait and see what happens, yeah? He might not want to sleep with me.”
“He’s a teenage boy
. Doesn’t he want to sleep with everyone?”
I giggled. “What’s our excuse?”
“We’re teenage girls.”
“Oh. So it’s the teenage part that does it.”
“Well, duh.” She paused, then asked, “If he wanted to sleep with you, would you sleep with him?”
I thought about that. I was attracted to him. Really attracted to him. The idea of sleeping with a guy who seemed a little more…dangerous than Miles was exciting. And sleeping with Davin was unlikely to be considered ‘too good’ behaviour. Plus it was normal to have sex with your boyfriend if you both wanted it, right? We were in a day and age when it should be perfectly acceptable to be sexually active and women to be empowered by sex, right?
I just had to see if Davin brought out any of those things in me. Because that would definitely shed my goody-two-shoes image.
“Yes, I would,” I answered finally. “Besides, I want to see if it actually is better with a bad boy.”
We collapsed into giggles as we pulled into the mall parking lot and the great car park search began. We finally found one under cover and made a beeline for our favourite café for some start of day refreshments so we had enough energy to complete a proper full day of shenanigans.
We shopped and ate and laughed and talked and took a bunch of pictures, and by the time the shops closed at five it felt like time had passed too quickly. But the only place still open was the cinema and Tunza Fun. We didn’t have time for a movie and neither of us were any good at any of the games in Tunza Fun. So I took Blair back to her place and headed home. Where I checked in with Davin with a quick text – being my boyfriend now and all – and sorted the washing basket Mum left on my bed every Saturday afternoon.
“Avery!” I heard Ebony yelling as I sorted my socks from my undies, and I knew she wanted something.
“Yeah?” I called back, smiling.
“Can you please tell Dad that you’re happy to have steak for dinner,” she pleaded, swinging into my room.
I looked at her as I refolded the jeans I’d just inadvertently unfolded. “Steak? Two nights in a week?” I teased and Ebony glared at me.
It suddenly occurred to me that Ebony was the St John that Davin would probably like better were she a few years older. Ebony was a tomboy and a grump. Where I wanted to be a part of everything, she was totally happy by herself. Where my wardrobe was full of colour and flouncy materials, hers was jeans and t-shirts and a couple of jumpers for the rare occasion she got cold – even in the midst of winter. Where I smiled at the drop of a hat, you had to earn a smile from my little sister but you felt amazing when you did.
But despite our differences, we were close and I loved her a lot.
“Come on, Ave. Please?” she wheedled.
I sighed over-dramatically. “I just don’t know, Ebs. It’s Saturday–”
“You can have free choice on the movie,” she said quickly and I gave her a wicked grin. To which she frowned. “You knew I’d offer…” She frowned harder. “Ugh. Deal?” she asked begrudgingly.
I nodded as my phone went off and I picked it up. “Deal.”
“You saw her all day. What could you possibly have to talk about?” she said in disbelief.
“Oh, it’s not Blair,” I replied absently as I read the message.
Davin:
Going out. I assume I’m supposed to ask what you’re doing?
I smiled to myself and typed a reply.
Avery:
Movie night with my sister. You?
“Who is it then?”
I wasn’t surprised Ebony sounded suspicious. I had quite a lot of friends at school, but not many that I texted with regularly.
“My boyfriend,” I told Ebony with a smile.
Ebony frowned again. “You’re really not so stupid that you took Miles back are you?”
“What do you know about it?”
“Enough that if I was bigger, I’d give him a beating.”
I rolled my eyes at her. I loved that she was protective – honestly, she acted like she was the older one most of the time – but the last thing I needed was my little sister beating up my ex. And I could see her doing it.
“No. I don’t want Miles back.”
Ebony looked confused, then brightened again. “Oh.” Then frowned. “Really? That guy you went out with last night?”
I nodded. “Yep.”
“He’s your boyfriend?” She looked like she was trying not to laugh at me.
“Ye-es…?” I said slowly. “Do you have a problem with that?”
She shrugged. “Just doesn’t seem your type is all.”
“I’m trying something different. Sticking my toe out of my comfort zone.”
Ebony had been looking impressed, now she just looked judgmental. “Is this some kind of stupid social experiment?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again because wasn’t that exactly what Davin had called it? She nodded knowingly.
“Yeah. I thought so. Poor guy.”
“It’s not like that. Davin’s just helping me trash my reputation.”
Ebony looked me over like I’d lost my mind. “And I felt sorry for him before…”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well anyone who is forced to spend time with you deserves sympathy–” I stuck my tongue out at her and she repaid the favour “–but you want him to what?” She snorted. “What are you doing that for?”
I shook myself out. “Because I’m sick of being Miss Goody-Two-Shoes. I want to be normal–”
“Ave, no one will ever look at you and think ‘normal’.”
“Well I want them to.”
“What do you even count as normal?”
I paused for a moment to collect my thoughts. “You know… Normal.”
“You have no idea, do you?”
I opened and closed my mouth indignantly a couple of times. “I do too.”
“Give several examples.”
“You know. I don’t want people to treat me like an idiot. I want to be able to make normal decisions and people not be surprised or think I’ve gone mad or something.”
Ebony scratched her head, quite clearly thinking I was talking a load of nonsense. “Uh huh. And what’s so good about being normal anyway?”
“Why don’t you leave my dating decisions to me?”
She shrugged. “Fine. Whatever. I need to go tell Dad steak is on anyway.”
Ebony left me in a weird sense of grump and I wasn’t quite sure why. I tried to shake it off as I finished with my clean clothes, interrupted now and then from a text from Davin. Texting with him was just as easy as talking to him in person was.
Davin:
Dinner with my grandmother.
Avery:
Is that a Sunday night thing?
Davin:
Why would it be a Sunday night thing?
Avery:
Because some families do that. Don’t they?
Davin:
I assure you I wouldn’t know what families do or don’t do.
Avery:
So it’s not a Sunday night thing?
Davin:
It’s an it happens thing.
But while I tried to get answers out of Davin, something about Ebony’s words gnawed at me. Maybe if I hadn’t been quite so good, I’d have worked out what it was.
Six: Davin
I blindly grabbed at my phone, which was rudely making noises other than my alarm at such a godforsaken hour of the morning.
I’d expected it to be my grandmother. She was the only one who’d be brave – or stupid – enough to risk contacting me before midday on any given day. But when I picked it up, I saw it was Avery and a bunch of good morning wank in text message form that I didn’t even bother looking at. I dropped my phone on my chest and sighed, looking forward to another twenty minutes of sleep.
However, sleep was fucking elusive because I
had this niggling feeling in the back of my head telling me to open Avery’s damned message. I lay there, staring at the ceiling in the near-darkness, willing myself to relax and just get those damned eighteen more minutes of sleep.
“Avery doesn’t actually expect a response. Does she? She’s not quite so delusional as to think I’d be functional now?”
I told myself I could just lie there quite happily and remember the feel of her under me, on top of me. Jesus, I didn’t care where she was as long as I got to feel her again.
My eyes flew open as I realised that the best likelihood of that came from reading and replying to her goddamned messages.
“Just this once,” I promise you.
I pulled the message centre open and the ‘good morning’ was accompanied by a picture of her quite clearly already her usual peppy self. She looked as pristine as she always did. Hair in perfect curls that tumbled over her shoulders. The parts of her uniform I could see were clean, ironed and worn just like the kids in the prospectus photos wore it. She was annoyingly perfect, ridiculously perky, and I was torn between feeling like I’d chugged a bottle of caramel topping and like I was desperate to kiss her again.
“How does a girl who looks like that…kiss like that?”
I scrubbed my hand over my face, thinking it was probably past time I shaved. But I decided that if I was going to be awake too early, then my time was better served mainlining caffeine so I had some defence against the tornado of sucrose I knew Avery would be.
I managed to get the bottom half of my uniform on quite easily. Although I struggled with my belt for a moment. Then I dragged on my shirt, tie and blazer. I didn’t bother doing any of that up yet, but at least I was in the required amount of uniform for when I finally stumbled out of the house.
As I lurched to the kitchen in search of coffee, I dialled my grandmother’s number.
“What’s wrong?” was her panicked answer.
I mumbled somewhat unintelligibly, cleared my throat, and tried again. “Nothing.”
“Well why in God’s name are you calling me this early? Scaring your poor, frail, old grandmother near to death, Davin!” she chided but I could hear the smile in her voice.
“Poor, frail and old my arse,” I told her, almost smiling myself as I turned on the coffee machine.