The Boys of Summer

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The Boys of Summer Page 22

by C. J. Duggan


  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I wasn’t overly surprised that as I lay in bed after the disco, sleep eluded me that night. I stared up at my bedroom ceiling replaying the evening’s events over and over in my mind.

  I had kissed Toby Morrison. I had fucking kissed Toby Morrison!

  Or more to the point, he had kissed me, and I had most certainly kissed him back, oh yes I had.

  When Toby kissed me it was like I burned from the inside; I had never felt more alive, more wanted. The edges of any doubts I’d had, had melted into him. It had been fast, hot and completely unexpected, and then like that he was gone, leaving me in the darkened alcove, my hands shaking as I had touched my kiss-swollen lips.

  When I had finally ventured out from behind the curtain, I had watched Toby’s every move. He had mingled at the disco, his eyes darting towards me every now and then with an amused glint. And what did I do? I sat at the picnic table in a catatonic state of shock. As midnight struck, I lost Toby in the crowd as everyone poured out of the beer garden and lingered on the footpath under the bug-infested lights. I wandered around, trying to seek him out, but his truck was gone. It was a bittersweet feeling; he was gone but the memory of his kiss replayed in my mind.

  The sun eventually crept into my room, and if I dozed at all, it had been briefly and with a wicked smile on my face.

  It wasn’t a dream.

  As I skipped into the kitchen, already showered and ready for work, Mum and Dad both did a double take. Dad peered at the time on the microwave and cast a confused look back at Mum.

  “Good morning!” I said, giving him a kiss on the top of his head.

  “Who are you and what have you done with our daughter?”

  I rolled my eyes and opened the fridge. I was absolutely ravenous.

  “Going somewhere?” Mum looked alarmed; my early rising had deeply unsettled their routine.

  I shrugged grabbing the milk. “Work.”

  “Honey, it’s 7am, you don’t have work for another five hours.”

  Yes, five long, hideous hours. I couldn’t wait to see Ellie to tell her what had happened last night. I had thought of messaging or emailing her, but I wanted to see her reaction in person.

  Five long hours away also meant hours without seeing Toby.

  “What’s wrong with being organised?” I threw back.

  “Nothing, it’s just …” She floundered to think of something. Poor souls, I thought, first a summertime job, then helping them at the shop and now rising with the sun; it was all too much.

  “What time did you get home?” Dad asked over his paper.

  Uh-oh. If I told them, it wouldn’t take them long to calculate just how little sleep I’d had and then they’d get all kinds of suspicions as to what had made their daughter so chipper this morning.

  “Oh, not too late, you know how I love my beauty sleep.”

  He nodded and turned back to his paper, accepting it.

  Boom! That’s how it’s done. Bullet dodged … for now.

  ***

  Ellie sat opposite me in the restaurant, before we officially started our shift. She had just listened intently to my play by play of the night’s events: from the encounter behind the DJ station, to the kiss, to Toby’s disappearance. I retold it beautifully, played it out to full dramatic effect.

  Not once did she interrupt me or look shocked or even happy for me. Instead, she listened with a pained expression on her face and an uncharacteristic silence.

  Quite frankly, it wasn’t the reaction I had expected.

  I fidgeted in my seat. “What? What is it?”

  “Nothing.” She couldn’t even bring herself to look at me as she smoothed out invisible creases in her black apron.

  I frowned. I didn’t get it. Last night, she had been my own personal cheer squad, told me to seek out Toby because she had inside information that went in my favour. What had changed?

  “Nothing?” I repeated. “Well, THAT’S crap!”

  Ellie sighed and finally spoke. “I just don’t …” She broke off as if picking her words carefully.

  “You just don’t what?” My patience was wearing thin. “Out with it.”

  She gave me a sad smile. “I just don’t … I don’t want you to do what I do.”

  I crossed my arms defensively. “And what’s that exactly?”

  Ellie shifted in her chair. “I don’t want you to jump in the deep end with him. Hold back a little.”

  “That’s not what you were chanting last night.”

  “I know, but take it from someone who knows.”

  “Knows what?” I said. “Has Stan said something?”

  “No! No I don’t even think he knows anything. We haven’t even talked about last night.”

  Didn’t surprise me, I seriously doubted they could speak much with their tongues in each other’s mouths all the time.

  Ellie grabbed for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Just don’t let yourself be the rebound girl.”

  “The rebound girl?”

  “Tess,” she continued carefully, “he only just broke up with Angela after dating for over a year.”

  I took a deep, calming breath. I didn’t want to hear this.

  “Just don’t expect too much, okay? Just take a step back.”

  I pulled my hand away and pushed my seat back. It gave an ear-piercing scrape against the polished floorboards.

  “Noted,” I said, “thanks for the pep talk.” I got up to walk towards the kitchen. If I didn’t move now, I would say something I would regret.

  “Tess, wait.” Ellie caught my arm, jolting me to a stop. “I’m sorry, that’s great, I mean really great. I’m excited for you. I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”

  “You mean you just don’t want me to have a life,” I bit out.

  Hurt flashed across Ellie’s face. “That’s not true.”

  “Isn’t it? Well, maybe if you’d thought outside your little world for one moment, you could have saved me from making such a huge mistake.”

  I spun back around towards the kitchen, tears threatening to overflow from my eyes. She wasn’t allowed to see them, she wasn’t. This time she let me go; she didn’t call out. This time she didn’t say a word.

  I had wanted Ellie to squeal and hug me and help me with my next outfit to dazzle Toby in, to keep me filled in on the Onslow Boys’ next social event. But as we worked together in silence for the whole shift, I knew it wouldn’t happen. As much as I fought against it, Ellie’s words rang in my ears and fed into my paranoia. Why did he kiss me and then just leave? Maybe he wasn’t into it. No, no he was definitely into it. A myriad of thoughts crowded my overworked mind; it was a full-time job pushing my doubts aside. As if that wasn’t bad enough, my heart all but stopped when I heard the front door screech open and familiar laughter filled the front bar. I found an excuse to go to my bag behind the door so I could peer inside at the boys as they pulled up their bar stools.

  Sean, Stan and Ringer looked over the menu.

  No Toby.

  I loitered a little longer and eavesdropped on their conversation.

  “Where’s young Tobias?” Chris asked, handing over their drinks.

  I pressed myself against the wall, hanging onto every word, and peeked through the crack in the restaurant divider.

  “I dare say he is probably facedown in a world of pain right about now,” Sean said with an evil smile.

  “He was pretty wasted,” Chris laughed.

  “‘Coronas are the devil’s brew’, I believe he said?” added Ringer.

  They all shuddered and laughed. “I doubt we’ll even see him today. Serves him right.”

  Their conversation shifted to lunch, and I made my way back to the restaurant before Chris saw me. He hadn’t seemed that drunk to me, but what did I know? ‘Devil’s brew’ and ‘wasted’ ran through my head as I pictured Toby at home, feeling sick and sorry for himself and the stupid things he’d done the night before. Like kissing the rebound girl.<
br />
  I felt sick. I told Ellie as I passed her that the boys were in the bar and made my way, once again, to the refuge of the ladies’ toilets.

  ***

  I managed to hold it together. I tried not to think too deeply about all my fears about kissing Toby and the way he’d up and left like that, with no warning. I felt exhausted. I just wanted to go home and crash into oblivion before the stress and agony of the dinner shift. I wanted to avoid Ellie’s eyes that would no doubt reflect a silent ‘I told you so’.

  When I finally made it home between shifts, scuffing my feet as I trudged towards the driveway, I froze. My bike was propped up under the carport, sparkling, shiny and fixed. I wondered if my lack of sleep was making me hallucinate.

  My heart threatened to beat out of my chest; I ran up the drive and clasped the handles. Yep, it was real. I dashed inside but the house was empty.

  “Damn it!”

  I frantically dialed the shop number and heard my mum’s usual spiel after the second ring.

  “Good afternoon, Rose Café, Jenny speaking.”

  “Mum!”

  “Oh, hi honey, how was work?”

  “Just awesome, hey listen, my bike?”

  “Oh yes, sorry, I meant to put it in the garage but I was running late.”

  “When did it get dropped off?”

  “Not long after you left for work, just five minutes later, and you could have ridden it there. You could have finally used your new helmet.”

  I cringed away from the receiver.

  “Who dropped it off?” My voice seemed smaller now.

  “Matthew Morrison, himself, did. I was late for work because of it, got caught up chatting to him. He’s such a lovely man, isn’t he? And a real fan of my pies, so he’s definitely in the will.”

  A coldness settled over me. Toby’s dad dropped it off? Toby had gotten his dad to return my bike instead of him. That clinched it. He was avoiding me. The bike was fixed, so that was that. He didn’t need to see me anymore. Hot tears welled in my eyes. I was so stupid.

  I tried not to sound too different on the phone; Mum could sniff out unhappiness like a bloodhound.

  “Cool, thanks, Mum. I better go.”

  “You can ride your bike to work tonight,” Mum said, sounding excited.

  “Yeah.” I tried to match her enthusiasm. “Yay!”

  The phone clicked as she hung up, and I listened to the silence of the empty house. The realisation swept over me.

  I was the rebound girl.

  Chapter Thirty

  I was so tempted to call in sick, to avoid the rest of the weekend and everyone in it altogether.

  But Chris could have eyed the beer in my hand last night, combined it with my silence during lunch service, and it wouldn’t take him long to conclude that I wasn’t sick, I was hungover. He’d give me the sack for that, I just knew it. It was a tempting thought, to be honest. Maybe if I broke my arm, I would be sent away to my nan’s house in the city for the rest of the summer. Not that I had a nan in the city, but still. I needed Adam. He could have cheered me up, especially in lieu of Ellie’s and my heated debate at lunch.

  After a catnap, I showered and had a quick bite to eat. Although I felt human again, I didn’t feel much better until I started getting ready for work. In the process, my self-pity morphed into determined resilience as I stared hard into the mirror.

  I opted for a cute little top and skirt. If I was going to face an audience, I was at least going to do so looking hot.

  As I walked into the bar that afternoon, I had on my best happy-go-lucky face and flashed the customers a winning smile and false confidence that had everyone fooled. Mostly everyone knew me by now, and I was always greeted with either a ‘Tess!’ or ‘McGee!’.

  Days of Tic Tac Tess were light years away. I couldn’t believe that used to be my biggest problem: a stupid nickname by an immature boy.

  I hung my bag up behind the door. Ellie’s bag was already there. I was still mad at her, but it would take far more energy to keep up the silent treatment than to be civil. She couldn’t rain on my parade anymore, because I simply wouldn’t confide in her about my love life. I knew that would hurt far more than the silent treatment, even though, in its own way, it was kind of the same thing.

  Ellie was still on edge around me as if she wasn’t wholly buying the act, and I knew that if anyone could see through it, it would be her.

  Rosanna, Amy and Melba seemed to suspect something was amiss though I chatted animatedly to them about all sorts of things. Maybe too animatedly. I was over-the-top bubbly with the customers, and I even caught Chris giving me a confused frown. After a few hours, my face ached from all the smiling, and I was exhausted. How could Ellie stand this all the time? Being a wallflower conserved so much more energy. I let my smile slip for a breather as I gathered some cutlery for a table. Beside me, Ellie reached for some silverware for her table.

  “Toby’s here,” she whispered.

  And when I met her eyes, she smiled a small smile and then whisked herself away.

  Oh shit.

  I had no intentions of running to the poolroom, or even crossing his path at all if I could help it. Even though I had completely resented Ellie’s advice, I knew there was something to it. I already felt like a big enough idiot.

  When Chris asked me to deliver a meal into the poolroom, I paused so long he thought I hadn’t heard. I had heard alright. Even though the order of a single bowl of chips didn’t have ‘Onslow Boys’ written on it, it didn’t have to; to me, the poolroom was a no-go zone. Enemy territory. I had to woman up. The last thing I would do was get Ellie to run the meal for me, so instead I ran fingers through my hair, straightened my clothes, took a deep breath and grabbed the meal.

  It felt like every step I took was in slow motion. The achy melody of Portishead echoed from the poolroom as I dodged traffic in the front bar on my way. All of a sudden, I wasn’t paranoid about dropping the plate or spilling the contents, I was just hoping that Toby might have been in the men’s room when I delivered the meal.

  No such luck; I spotted him through the alcove, laughing at some bad shot that passed from his opposition. He leaned casually against the windowsill, pool cue in one hand, beer in the other. He didn’t look hungover to me, I thought. As I paused, watching on just beyond the doorway, his eyes flicked up and met mine just as he was about to take a shot.

  My breath hitched at the acknowledgement; the first time since last night. The contact was broken when Sean heckled him to hurry up and take his shot. He did, making the white ball rebound on the cushion and pot the wrong ball.

  “Oooooh, two shots, son!”

  The poolroom filled with cheers and exclamations of shock at the rare occasion Toby made a mistake on the pool table. The boys pounded him with back slaps and ruffled his hair. He shook them off with a smile. My face felt on fire; he’d lost concentration because of me.

  I hurried into the poolroom, trying not to draw attention to myself while they were all preoccupied.

  It was then that I looked at the order. ‘Bowl of chips’ with an angry face next to it, in Ellie's handwriting. Then I realised why, as a group of Angela Vickers’ friends sat around a barrel on stools, pursing their lips in disdain as they sat in the corner feeling superior.

  Awesome, I thought. Icing on the cake of a brilliant day.

  “Bowl of chips,” I said in the friendliest way I could.

  Three sets of cold, angry eyes met me, all casting me a death stare.

  They begrudgingly moved their drinks aside for me to place the bowl down. I offered them another friendly smile and escaped while the going was good.

  Only to be stopped by a shrill voice.

  “Hey, bar-keep!”

  I turned, dread swept over me; the snarky comment had drawn the whole room’s attention.

  My brow quirked in question as I met her gaze. Just try it, I thought. I was in no mood for her.

  The girl’s manicured claw pointed to the chip
s.

  “We said chips and gravy.”

  The docket didn’t read with gravy, but the customer was always right, no matter how evil they were.

  “I’ll grab you some,” I replied sweetly.

  The blonde with her eyes a little too close together feasted distastefully on a chip.

  “And we said chicken salt, not ordinary salt.”

  “God, who would have thought you would actually need a brain to waitress,” Pencil Eyebrows scoffed.

  I bit the side of my jaw, ready to grab the bowl from the barrel and pelt them with chips when I heard a voice next to me.

  “Lay off, Jules.” Toby lingered near the French door, chalking his pool cue.

  Pencil Eyebrows had a name, and now her death stare was focused on Toby.

  “Oh, I forgot that jail bait here was you guys’ little pet. I guess you can’t handle a real woman with a brain.”

  “Which instantly rules any of you out,” Toby added coolly as he blew the excess chalk off his cue and gave them a knowing smirk. Laughter and catcalls sounded in stereo as the Onslow Boys overheard the exchange.

  “Go fuck yourself, Toby.”

  Jules stood up, chucking a handful of chips at him and stormed out, earning me three bumps in the shoulder. But that did little to upset me when I met Toby’s gaze, and he gave me a wink.

  Sean slung an arm around my shoulder. “Never mind them, Jail Bait, they can’t help it. They were born with chronic evil.”

  I smiled at Toby. “You okay? You’re lucky a wayward chip didn’t take out an eye.”

 

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