by Lora Inak
‘So—’James brushed his hand against hers—‘do you want to dance?’
There was no mistaking his meaning. Oh God! Is this what she got for being friendly?
‘Ah. Ummm.’
‘You know. Just us.’ He raised an eyebrow.
‘Oh, just us!’ She moved her hand away, stalling for time. ‘Yeah, not sure it’s a good idea.’
‘Why?’
‘Umm … because … ’
‘She hates dancing,’ a familiar voice cut in.
She spun around to find Chris standing behind her.
‘Mate, do you mind?’ James glared at him.
‘Nope, don’t mind at all. Ask her.’
‘Is that true?’ James turned to her.
Were they still talking about dancing?
‘Yes. Can’t stand it.’ She leaned towards Chris. ‘I’m like a caterpillar, all feet.’ She kept a straight face but it took a great deal of effort.
‘Whatever!’ James turned his back on them, clearly disgusted. He took a long swig of his drink before nudging the girl on his other side.
Natalie looked up at Chris and smiled brightly. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
Chris took her hand and pulled her to a quiet corner, his grip warm and strong. They’d never deliberately touched before. It sent a thrill through her.
‘So, that was a fascinating fact,’ he said with a lop-sided grin.
‘What?’ Her head was still spinning from his touch.
‘That you dance like a caterpillar.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Ha, ha, ha.’
‘You came.’
‘Yep.’
‘I didn’t think you would.’
‘Why? I said I would, didn’t I?’ If only he knew how close she’d come to not coming.
‘A few of the guys said you don’t do parties.’
Damn. People had told him. That was no real surprise.
She took a long slow gulp of her drink, drained it, then put the bottle down. She wished she had another just to keep her hands busy.
‘Well. I thought that since you’re such a nerd, you’d need my “celebrity status” to help lift your party profile.’ Damn again. Why did she always make such stupid jokes?
Chris didn’t smile. He just held her gaze, the firelight flickering in his eyes. ‘So then … you came for me?’
Natalie was glad it was dark because she was pretty certain her cheeks were red. ‘I guess so,’ she whispered.
Her heart drummed so hard surely he could hear it. He moved closer, just a fraction, never letting go of her hand, but then stopped. She thought he was going to kiss her, but instead, he squeezed her hand.
‘Good.’
He led her to a group of girls and guys seated in a circle around the outdoor table. It was covered in cigarette butts, empty beer cans and tea lights. She recognised Alex Guida, Maddie Fenton and Stephanie Wilson, but everyone else was a stranger.
‘Hey, guys. This is Natalie.’ Chris found a couple of chairs and arranged them around the table so they could join the group.
‘Hi.’ Everyone called out.
‘NATALIE!!!’ Alex growled, his hands waving in the air, his eyes glassy.
Maddie was too drunk to do anything but grunt.
‘Hi.’ She gave everyone a half wave, decided it was uncool and then tucked her hand under her bum. She was amazed at how easily Chris made friends. He’d only been in Melbourne for a short time and already he had so many friends.
‘Wanna drag?’ Steph handed her a joint.
Natalie blinked and then shook her head. She’d broken a tonne of rules tonight, but she wasn’t willing to go that far. Besides, Misha might smell it on her breath. ‘No thanks. I’m right.’
‘More for me.’ Steph smiled, her hazel eyes dreamy. She leaned over Natalie and handed it to Chris, fluttering her eyelashes at him.
Chris took a quick drag and then handed it to the person seated beside him, who then passed it to Maddie. Maddie took a long drag and mumbled something before falling heavily onto Alex, who took the opportunity to sprinkle torn up grass on her head and massage the pieces deep into her skull.
Chris leaned in, his nose lightly brushing the side of her face. ‘How do you reckon Maddie will pull up tomorrow?’
Natalie giggled. She tilted her head to reply and suddenly found her mouth inches from his. Her heart quickened. His breath faltered. He didn’t move away. Neither did she.
Clearly it wasn’t just friendship he wanted. She wanted more too. She wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted, only that she wanted him. It was agonising how much. Here, at this party, feeling like maybe she could be like everyone else, she was able to admit it to herself.
He gripped her hand and leaned in. She tilted her face until her lips were a breath away from his, and then, he moved in and took her mouth.
Everything melted away. She couldn’t hear laughter or music or talking anymore. All she was aware of was his soft lips on hers, his tongue exploring the inside of her mouth. Nothing else existed. She’d thought about kissing him a hundred times, had even dreamed about it. But the real thing was far more electric than anything she’d imagined. Her muddled mind marvelled at the way she seemed to instinctively respond.
His hand came up and cupped the back of her head, pressing their mouths closer. Her limbs turned to liquid. He tasted like beer. The smell of his skin was maddening. Earthy. Fresh. Sexy.
Somewhere in the far distance, she heard her name, followed by whistles. She pulled away, her mind and body in some sexual stupor.
‘Yeah. Woo hoo,’ Alex called. A few of the others were whistling or taking photos.
Reality slapped her in the face. She couldn’t believe she’d just had her first kiss in front of a mob of people. Her cheeks blazed. What was she doing anyway? This wasn’t her, was it? What would her parents do if they knew? If they found out she’d been at a party full of alcohol, drugs, sex maybe?
‘Hey, shut up, guys,’ Chris shouted.
Natalie jumped to her feet. ‘I’m going out for a breather, okay.’ She had to get away, to process things.
‘What’s wrong?’ Chris jumped up too.
‘Nothing.’
She was embarrassed, but it was more than that. Everything was spinning out of control.
‘Nats,’ Katelyn called out.
Natalie shook her head, trying not to cry. Katelyn must have seen it all, knew she was rattled. She had to get out of here.
She weaved her way back through the house, down the hall and out onto Blythe Road, eager to escape all the prying eyes. Chris was close behind.
‘Natalie. Natalie, please.’ He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop on the kerb. ‘Listen. Those guys are dickheads, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I mean … not in front of everyone.’ He exhaled and closed his eyes for a moment. ‘I’—he paused—‘I couldn’t help myself. I’ve wanted to kiss you for ages. You’re just … so awesome.’
He thought she was awesome! Her heart sang to his words.
‘I’ve wanted to kiss you too,’ she stammered, her voice thick. ‘It’s not that.’
‘Then what is it?’
What was she supposed to say? Oh, sorry. Tonight was a detour from the usual story of my life. The story where I’m expected to live, marry, and die according to the customs and expectations of my culture. You, unfortunately, cannot be a part of that story. So it’s been fun, but see you later.
‘It’s nothing, okay? I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later.’ She pulled her arm away, blinking back her childish tears.
He stood there, the crisp breeze playing through his hair. ‘Please don’t go.’
‘I need to.’ She turned and walked away. This time, he didn’t follow.
Chapter 8
On the trip home, Misha
blasted her about why she hadn’t waited outside Katelyn’s place. Natalie was too churned up to retaliate. She simply hadn’t been able to sit still, so she’d started walking home. She couldn’t wait to throw herself into bed. To stop the buzzing in her head long enough to sort through all that had happened. Replay and analyse it. She checked her phone. No messages. She could hardly blame him. The only positive was that Mama and Baba were still out. At least she wouldn’t have to answer to them about where she’d been.
All night, she tossed and turned, falling into fits of sleep, and waking with knots in her stomach. What did he think of her? Was he thinking of her? Was he annoyed? Angry? Hurt? Twice, she checked her messages. Still nothing.
The next morning, completely drained, she lay in bed trying to block out all that had happened the night before, but it was no use. Pictures of Chris swam back into her head. The way he kissed her. The taste of him. The smell of him. The look in his eyes when she walked away and left him standing alone in the street. Well, that was it between them. No more walks home together, no more jokes or teasing each other and no more fascinating facts. Her throat tightened, the muscles viscid.
There was a knock at the door and Misha walked in.
‘Natalie. Get up. Baba wants to get to church early today. Something about a meeting with the elders.’
Great. She’d forgotten about church. She groaned.
‘Are you being a heathen again?’
‘Are you being all “cowish” again?’
‘Get up,’ Misha said, her lips tight. ‘Oh, I forgot to ask last night. How did it go?’
Natalie’s heart leapt to her throat. ‘What?’
‘How did it go? You know, with Kate.’ Misha cocked her head. ‘Sometimes I worry about you. You go off with the fairies too much.’
She exhaled. ‘Yeah. Not bad. She’s still upset though.’
‘Poor thing.’ Misha tsked. ‘Just keep an eye on her. I read a story in a magazine about a young girl who broke up with her boyfriend. Her parents thought she was all right, but then they noticed she’d been in the bathroom for ages with the door locked. When they finally broke in, they found her in the bathtub with her wrists cut.’
Natalie blinked. The thought of Katelyn bleeding in a bathtub wasn’t the nicest thought on a Sunday morning.
‘What’s up with you anyway?’ Misha asked, and then not waiting for an answer, continued. ‘You’ve got massive bags under your eyes. Not a good look. You can use my concealer if you want.’
She turned and shut the door.
With great effort, Natalie got out of bed, showered, dressed, dabbed concealer under each eye and grabbed a piece of toast. She jumped into Baba’s new Toyota with the rest of the family, feeling a headache coming on. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back on the leather upholstery. She’d give anything to be able to stay home alone today.
Mama’s voice pulled her from her daydream.
‘Misha, my habibi.’ Her voice was sweet. Sugary sweet.
‘Yes?’ Misha was busy filing her nails.
‘I don’t want you to be upset, but we thought it best to warn you.’
Misha sat up, straight as a pole, her nails forgotten. ‘What is it?’
‘No. No. Don’t stress,’ Baba cut in, laying a hand on Mama’s lap. ‘Selma don’t overdramatise it.’
Natalie sat up too. Baba asking Mama not to overdramatise! This had to be big.
‘Tell me,’ Misha’s voice rose.
Mama turned to face Misha. ‘Jozef and his family will be at our church today, but—’
‘Noooooo,’ Misha cried. ‘Take me back home. I don’t want to see him. Take me back home NOW.’
If Misha got to go back home, then she wanted to as well. She had her own stuff to deal with. She’d kissed a boy. And then, kind of broken up with him!
‘But …’ Mama continued. ‘We are going early, and will sit far away from them. They are only coming this week because their priest is overseas.’
Misha clasped the back of Baba’s seat. ‘Take me back home. PLEASE.’
Misha’s voice grated on Natalie’s brain. Why did she always have to be so dramatic?
‘Now, Misha … calm down.’ Mama used her soothing voice.
‘Please, please, please take me home.’
Yes please. Take me home too.
‘Maybe we won’t even see them,’ Natalie said, hoping Misha would settle down. ‘And even if you do, just pretend you didn’t.’
‘Shut up, Natalie. Baba, I don’t want to go to church. I don’t want to see them.’
‘That’s enough,’ Baba roared, whacking the steering wheel. ‘You must act like an adult. Whether we like it or not, every now and then, we may run into them. It’s me they will have an issue with. Not you.
Misha’s mouth opened and shut like a goldfish, her eyes wide and wet. Natalie handed her a tissue.
It was dead silent in the car for what felt like forever. By the time they arrived at church, Misha had pulled herself together, and put ‘a face’ on. It wouldn’t do for people to see she’d been crying. There would be talk.
‘You go and mind me a spot. I’ll be there soon.’ Mama ushered them in, and then rushed off to the kitchen with a tray of baked goods.
They walked down the aisle and seated themselves in the third row from the front, right behind Aunty Jasmina and their cousin Alina, who they greeted with a kiss on the left cheek, then the right, then the left again.
Misha kept swivelling around.
‘Stop it,’ Natalie whispered. ‘It’s so obvious when you do that. Be cool and act like you don’t care.’
Misha tapped a foot lightly on the floor and then rubbed her leg. ‘What if they come over and say something? Yell at me for refusing Jozef. In front of everyone. It wasn’t even my fault.’
‘They won’t do that. If they did, everyone would know they were refused. It’s more shameful for them. Just take it easy.’ Natalie was pretty much over having to calm her sister down.
Mama shuffled in between the girls, her face stony. She sat rigid.
‘Did you see them?’ Misha asked.
‘Who? No. Stop talking about it.’ Mama’s shoulders stiffened when that woman with the stutter seated herself in the row behind them.
Misha lapsed into a moody silence, continually swivelling around despite what Natalie had said. The church filled. The middle rows first, followed by the front, then back rows, until they were all pressed together like kids at a concert. The service was long. Father Ashram droned on about the dangers of temptation, and despite her knowing it was ridiculous, a part of Natalie wondered if Father Ashram was directing the service at her. Was she caving into the devil’s temptations? Kissing Chris hadn’t felt wrong, in fact, nothing had ever felt so right before … but was this all a part of an evil game between God and Satan? She shook her head, no … that was just medieval thinking.
Father Ashram motioned for them to sit, and pretty soon, her mind was back at the party. She remembered the firelight flickering in Chris’s sapphire eyes. The way he’d looked at her. His kiss. How warm his hand felt in hers. How hurt he was when she walked away. She wished she could just re-do how things ended. He’d said he thought she was awesome, but what did he think of her now?
After an eternity, Father Ashram intoned the benediction and blessed the congregation by drawing the sign of the crucifix with his right hand. The congregation stood and made their way out into the aisle while the choir sang the final prayers.
Baba met them outside in the busy courtyard and told them that only Jozef’s baba and meyme had come to church.
‘Thank Allah, Jozef didn’t come,’ Misha sighed.
Natalie was glad too. She had no desire to see her sister in a hysterical fit again.
‘Hi, Natalie.’ Alya shuffled over from between her parents. ‘How’s school go
ing?’
‘Pretty good,’ Natalie lied, noticing Alya’s baggy pants. ‘How’s the shop?’
Alya shrugged. ‘It’s okay. I work long hours. I miss my friends at school.’
Natalie hated that Alya’s baba could make such life changing decisions for his daughter. And a decision that suited him more than considered Alya’s needs. She knew her baba would never do that.
Juliette came flying over.
‘I bought a dress for the wedding. It’s this awesome coral pink and has sequins on the bodice and strips of chiffon on the skirt. I’m wearing it with my silver shoes. I took a selfie with it on.’ Juliette showed them a picture on her phone.
‘It’s really pretty.’ Natalie checked her own phone. Still nothing from Chris.
‘That colour looks so good on you,’ Alya said. ‘I haven’t had any free time to go shopping.’
‘Mama gave us money to buy dresses.’ Misha bent down to rub her leg. ‘But we haven’t had time to go shopping either.’
‘O.M.G. I saw your almost grandmother-in-law,’ Juliette giggled. ‘The old lady has more hair on her chin than my brother.’
‘And more hair on her legs,’ Misha giggled.
While Misha and Juliette nattered away, and Alya followed her parents into the hall, Natalie noticed a guy leaning against the wall. He was smiling to himself, his head bent. She got the distinct impression he was listening into Misha and Juliette’s conversation. He seemed familiar too and she was certain she’d seen him around, even spoken to him a couple of times. Was his name Awad? Amir? No … it was Azeem. Yes, that’s right. He was the guy who’d been in a terrible car accident a few years ago. She remembered hearing something about a prosthetic leg. He usually attended the other Orthodox church, the same one Jozef did.
It was all coming back to her now. He was studying medicine. Pretty switched on. She remembered a comment he’d made about how the world was deceptive because men seemed the stronger gender, whereas, in fact, women were far more resilient. That kind of comment was rare amongst the men in their community, and gave her hope that the younger generation, like Azeem, would be modern thinkers.
He caught her watching him, and turned away, but not before he’d seen her smile. He seemed shy. She walked over.
