Saving from Monkeys

by Star, Jessie L.

  "What a relief." I rolled my eyes, before continuing, "Right, cards on the table time then. How much did you hear?"

  He took his time before answering, "Pretty much all of it."

  "Well, I guess that's kind of handy in some ways," I suggested, forcing my hands to lie still in my lap even as they desperately wanted to start plucking nervously at the sleeves of my jumper. "At least I don't have to repeat myself."

  Elliot ignored that, seeming instead to wait for when I was going to say something of substance. It wasn't as easy as that, though, my mind was all over the place. Although I'd guessed at the truth about a week ago, I hadn't had time to properly look at how I felt once again being the Sinclair charity case. Especially the Elliot-instigated Sinclair charity case.

  One thing I did know for sure, however, was that there was no way I wanted to be discussing it back at uni. I felt strong and intelligent there, like I never had at home and I'd be damned if I let that side of myself be drawn into this. Yes, it all got a bit confusing when I thought about how 'confident uni Rox' couldn't actually exist without 'pathetic charity case Rox', but still, my mind was made up. Sort this out now, protect myself later.

  Of course, underlying all this was the fact that, only this morning, Elliot and I had said our final goodbye to Nan. I wanted answers, but I refused to let myself lose sight of the trauma still so fresh for both of us.

  With all of this in mind, I gritted my teeth and said, with a brittle cheeriness, "OK, I'm going to go through what I think happened, just to get my head straight."

  "I'm not sure that-" Elliot started to say, sounding distinctly underwhelmed by my idea and I frowned at him.

  "Just...shhh," I told him crossly. Couldn't he see I had to focus all my attention on not yelling at him? "I need to get this out."

  He turned his attention to overtaking a truck, his mouth pinched in a hard line, and I began. "I made an agreement with my mum, the day she told me she had savings that could help me with uni, to not get involved. She asked me to just concentrate on my education, and let her take responsibility of the financial side of things. I thought this was the worst idea ever, but as it was her money, did as she asked and butted out."

  I crossed my arms across my chest, annoyed at the part that came next. "You, it transpires, didn't. I guess you got the information about the uni accommodation when you were tossing up whether to live there or a swanky off-campus studio."

  Careful, I warned myself, watch the bitterness levels. Accordingly, I injected a bit of lightness into my tone as I continued, "When you heard about where I was going to live, you presumably thought to yourself 'what-ho, I know what our lowly housekeeper is being paid and there's no way in hell it's enough for her daughter to live amongst others of my creed'."

  This seemed to hit a nerve and Elliot repeated incredulously, "My creed?"

  I ignored him.

  "Being as you are the sort of chap who, as Nan pointed out, 'fixes things' you decided you needed to help. So you talked to your mum, spinning her some 'it is the responsibility of such as us to give back' speech, she talked to the uni, where she admits she still has contacts, and sorted it all out." I was breathing quite quickly by the time that was out, but Elliot had gone so still it was hard to tell if he was breathing at all.

  "So, I just have a couple of questions," I pressed. "Firstly, how did I find out about all that the first time?"

  For a moment Elliot stayed frozen, but then he shrugged disinterestedly. "You didn't say. You just turned up and went feral."

  I gave this a little bit of thought, but then accepted it. Unfortunately I could just see myself flying over to his place and launching into a rant without any explanation about what had tipped me off. Maybe I'd seen a copy of Abi's lease agreement and done the maths, or something. I reluctantly let it go, and asked my second question, albeit with a quavering hint of trepidation.

  "And how did we get from me shouting at you to having sex? Even for me, that's quite a leap."

  I saw one side of his mouth quirk in a humourless smile. "You wanted my attention," he said with a bit more a spark, "so you sat on my lap and pulled your top off." I gave a little squeak of outrage, but he just continued, "you weren't wearing a bra so sex was just one of those natural progression things."

  "Natural progression," I repeated in disbelief. "Well that's just..." a lot of words that could finish that sentence ran through my head, but with great force of will I managed to finish with, "fine."

  Any loosening up that Elliot had done when he was talking about me taking off my top was immediately forgotten. The tension in the car was suddenly so thick it caught in my throat.

  I gave a little cough to try and clear it and added, "OK, um, that feels like everything's mapped out. Have I missed anything?"

  "The part where you've completely lost your mind, maybe?" Elliot growled and there were so many layers of frustration and anger present in that one sentence that I found myself gulping.

  "Fine?" He continued. "That's how you want to react to that? What's this? Your new 'arguing with the grief stricken' etiquette or something?

  The sun had dipped down behind some hills in the distance as I'd talked and it wasn't as easy to see Elliot's expression anymore. Honestly, though? I didn't need to.

  "Don't be fake with me," he snapped, smacking a hand against the steering wheel as I stayed silent. "Last time you found out I was even thinking of using Sinclair money for something for you, you completely lost your mind. What happened to you setting fire to my TV? What about where I can shove my rich boy guilt?"

  I recognised my words from when he'd invited me to Papua New Guinea and shifted uneasily in my seat. Still, if that's how he wanted it...

  "Don't get me wrong, Sinclair," I said quietly, holding it together with a great deal of effort. "I'm pissed." I thought about it for a moment and then corrected myself. "No, that's not even it. I'm embarrassed. Humiliated. Not just for me, but for my mum too."

  He cursed, apparently no happier now I'd stopped being so upbeat. "That wasn't how it was supposed to be, Rox," he said uncomfortably. "No-one wanted to humiliate you."

  My shoulders tensed so hard they actually shook a little bit, but I clutched desperately at my cool. "I know," I said through gritted teeth. "I know that wasn't what you wanted, but it's how it ended up. And if my mum ever found out..."

  "That won't happen," he said fiercely, risking another quick look at me so I could see the fervent belief in his eyes, dark as it now was, as he repeated, "I won't let that happen."

  I restricted myself to a simple, "Good," not sure I had the fortitude to add much else after his impassioned assurance.

  "Rox-"

  What was it about the way he said my name that made me go all wobbly? Whenever he said it like that I instantly wanted to talk over him because what he was going to say was likely to be absolutely terrifying. This time was no different.

  "Look, the money's actually coming from your mum," I said quickly. "And she's made it pretty clear that there's nothing I can do about it until I've graduated. I just wanted to make sure you and I both knew what was what. Beyond that, it turns out I actually really don't want to talk about this with you."

  "Why not?" He demanded and I heard in those two words some of the anger and loss I'd heard from him earlier in the day when he'd tried to explain his grief to me.

  Instantly, I felt one of the little defensive walls I'd put up while Mrs Sinclair had talked, crack and fall. "Because I don't want to hate you," I burst out.

  This seemed to cut at him even deeper and, although his eyes were firmly focused on the road in front of us, I felt a bit like I had when Mrs Sinclair had turned her full attention on me earlier. These Sinclairs could sure pack a punch.

  "Why not?" He repeated disbelievingly. "Because, I gotta tell you, Rox, now would be the perfect time for it. I went behind your back and did something you've recently made pretty clear is unforgivable to you, so I don't understand what's going on."

  OK, a
nd now neither did I. What was his problem? "Do you want me to hate you?" I asked, my voice shrill with confusion.

  "No, of course I don't," he smacked the steering wheel again, "but I don't want to be lied to. Why wouldn't you hate me over this?"

  "Because I don't think I'd be that good at it anymore," I exploded.

  There was a piercing shock of silence and then Elliot swore loudly and swung the car sharply off the highway into the break-down lane. I'd clutched at my seatbelt as we'd suddenly veered off course, and I found that I needed to keep hold even as we came to a stop. Everything felt so off-kilter that a tight grip on something, anything, was reassuring.

  We sat there for a few moments, the only sound the soft ticking of the indicator. Finally Elliot took a deep breath and said quietly, "You're unbelievable."

  There was a strange sort of wonder in his voice that I didn't understand, so I thought it was best to point out, "Actually, someone recently told me I'm awesome."

  He let out a strangled sort of laugh. "What kind of idiot would've said that?"

  I didn't say anything in response to that, maybe because I had so many ways to describe what kind of an idiot he was I was overwhelmed by the choices.

  We spent so much time talking over the top of each other, it felt weird now we both seemed to be stumped about what to say next. Elliot definitely seemed to be waiting for me to make the next move, a responsibility I wasn't sure I knew what to do with. I'd been the one to say that I didn't want to hate him anymore, after all, surely now it was his turn?

  "You're going to have to take the lead on this one, Sinclair," I admitted after we'd sat there watching other cars streaming by for several long seconds. "Because I have no idea what to say."

  He turned to look at me, a shaft of orange light from a street lamp cutting diagonally across his pretty, pretty face. "Taking the lead I'm good at," he said and his voice was so cocky he could’ve been high school Elliot, but the swagger dropped almost instantly as he added, "knowing what to say, not so much."

  "Oh, well, that's settled then," I said, releasing my grip on the seatbelt as I felt a little of the tension between us start to drain away, "we stay here sitting in silence forever."

  "I could think of worse things," he remarked and I couldn't help but concur.

  "Like being stuck in a room in a room when Abi and Jonah start pashing on," I suggested.

  "Or dealing with the dickheads at Haze," he rejoined.

  "Getting a song about Jason's penis stuck in my head."

  "Being slingshot."

  I scoffed at this last example. "And whose fault was that?"

  There were another couple of beats of silence and then he said quietly, "Rox?"

  "Hmm?"

  "I could think of some better things too."

  Happy to keep playing the game I agreed heartily, "Like my mum's lasagne."

  He laughed, a deep throaty chuckle that made the hairs on my arms stand up.

  "I was thinking more along the lines of..." He moved forward, brushing his mouth gently against mine.

  It was a feather light touch, but it sent an electric charge spreading through my entire body and I ignored the awkward angle of the car seat to lean into him. The kiss deepened and one of his hands reached up to cup my cheek whilst the other bunched my t-shirt up at the waist, seeking bare skin. My fingers scrabbled against his chest, clinging to him as I felt his palm slide up my back.

  It was only when I shifted forward and banged loudly against the gear stick that we broke apart. Elliot reached down to rub my knee where I'd bashed it and we stared at each other in a post-pash daze.

  "Yeah, that's good too," I said shakily when I found my voice again, and he did his sexy little laugh again.

  "You know something?" He asked then, looking down at where he was massaging my knee. "I don't want that to stop."

  "Like you want to go for a world record or something?" I asked breathlessly. "Longest car make out?" I tipped my head forward again to press a kiss against the corner of his mouth. Apparently now the floodgates were open I found it hard to keep my lips off him. "If so, we're going to need some practice."

  He smiled a smile that I captured with my mouth. We were nowhere near world record level, however, when he pulled back again.

  "Tempting as that sounds," he said seriously, "I was thinking more you and me and the not hating each other thing. Long term."

  I sat back quickly, this time banging my elbow hard against the dashboard. Barely registering my painfully tingly funny bone, I stared at him.

  "My, oh my, Elliot Sinclair," I finally choked out. "Is that your way of asking me to go steady?"

  "Steady is not really a word I'd ever attribute to you," he pointedly moved his hand, this time to soothe my throbbing elbow. "But your basic principle is sound."

  "'Your basic principle is sound'," I repeated, still teasing him even as my head whirled. "You old romantic, you."

  Something in his face softened. "You want romantic?" He tucked some hair behind my ear and, I have to admit, I melted a little bit at this simple contact. "You make me feel good, Rox…then usually confused, frustrated or amused, but in the end, we mostly work our way back round to good. And, honestly? That's not really something I thought I'd be able to say this week."

  My heart seemed to be trying to escape my body, either by banging its way out of my chest, or by climbing up my throat, but I was relieved to see that Elliot looked like he was having the same problem. With a great effort, it seemed, he forced himself to finish, "Look, I don't know if this money stuff is something you're ever going to be able to forgive and forget, but...anyway, that's my piece said."

  I wanted so much to know what he'd been going to say after the 'but…', still, even without that last bit he'd done what I'd asked him to do at the very start of the trip back. He'd put his cards on the table. Now it was my turn…

  The thing was, just as I hadn't thanked Mrs Sinclair earlier, Elliot hadn't actually apologised to me for the money palaver. In fact, I had a sneaky suspicion that he didn't think he'd done anything wrong, which kind of made the forgiving and forgetting stuff a bit tricky.

  But I wanted to get behind the two f's, I really did, so I said honestly, "I haven't really come up with a plan yet for how to deal with the money situation. For now maybe it's about putting other stuff first?" I'd just been thinking out loud, but that suddenly seemed like the right answer so I added, "And I think I could do that. I think I want to do that."

  "Put what stuff first?" Elliot asked, watching me carefully.

  Right then, and here we go… "Stuff like you making me bounce and the sexy little way you say my name," I said, talking through my blush with an heroic effort. "…and even how you like to fix things. Although, I swear to God, Sinclair," I added fiercely, "you ever try and fix me again and I'm taking a pair of scissors to your floppy hair," I flicked the lock in question, finishing, "and you'll be lucky if I just stop there."

  He nodded solemnly and then said, with the tiniest quirk of a smile, "Well, that's that then."

  "Yeah, I guess so." I think I'd just ended up in a relationship with Smelliot Sinclair. How random was that?

  "Sooo," I looked down, then up at him through my eyelashes as I asked coyly, "pash here, or pash back at uni?"

  He leant forward and the last thing either of us said for a very long time was, "Both."

  ----------

  As they turned onto the street Rox's building was on, Elliot cut a glance across to where she was curled up on the passenger seat. Her lips were still red and her hair was mussed from their fairly epic roadside make out session. She looked incredible and somehow, some-crazy-how, she was his.

  He had no idea how the day had gone from so shit to so good, but he knew he was going to work damn hard not to screw it up. And he was going to have to, he acknowledged, because in his gut he knew that one day Rox was going to remember what had really gone down on the night they'd first slept together.

  And then there was going to
be hell to pay.

  Chapter 16 – The Weird and the end of the World

  "Oh, hon, there you are. I'm so sorry about Nan. Joe told me the funeral was…is that pash rash?"

  I'd barely walked through the door on my return from the Sinclair house when Abi had tugged my bag from me and wrapped me in a hug. Just as I'd started to relax into my best friend's embrace, however, she pulled back and grabbed my chin in a vice-like grip, turning my face back and forth to look at my red skin.

  "Ow," I complained, batting her hand away. "Knock it off."

  "Who the hell were you kissing at the funeral?"Abi demanded, before understanding clearly dawned and she whacked me on the shoulder. "Oh my freaking God! Elliot? You were kissing Elliot at the funeral?"

  "Again, ow," I rubbed at my shoulder and glared at her balefully. "And, I didn't kiss Elliot at the funeral," I continued primly. "That would have been strange and inappropriate." It immediately occurred to me how much Nan would have enjoyed Elliot and me making out at her funeral even, actually especially, if it was strange and inappropriate.

  And then…oh dear, there it was; the moment I'd known would come. Here I was back at uni, here was Abi looking just the same, and there was my bed, the Mona Lisa poster and all my things…but Nan was gone. It was a fresh sting to an already smarting wound and I immediately wondered how Elliot was going back at his place in this new Nan-less world.

  "You OK?" Abi obviously saw my distress and the concern in her tone just about made me dissolve. I'd been so right about how much of a mess I would've been if she'd been there at the ill-fated funeral. Sometimes sympathy was just the worst thing in the world.

  "Yep," I said overbrightly, blinking a few times. "Dead people are real downers, hey?"

  "Oh, Rox," her face crumpled with compassion, but I held up a hand to stop her.

  "No niceness," I told her firmly. "I'm getting dehydrated from all the waterworks. You need to pretend like you're some cold hearted witch who just wants me to get over it already or I'll crisp up like an old leaf."