by Lily Zante
She was starting to suffer. And after Hugh’s talk with her a week earlier, she was ever more conscious of looking on the ball and getting her assignments done well and handed in on time.
It seemed as though everyone wanted more from her—and she was getting even more tired and exhausted just trying to get by.
A couple of times after class, Hugh had wanted to talk. It wasn’t that she was his prize pupil or anything—there were a few really bright sparks on that course—but she wondered if he was going to tell her she needed to work harder.
She’d made a couple of good friends, and when she was stuck she would go seek out their help. It meant she understood things quicker rather than waiting forever to figure things out on her own. Unlike most of the other students, she couldn’t hang around after class had ended and grab a table at Starbucks where she could work on assignments with the other students.
She had to do all her assignments on her own—though she had started hanging out with a couple of students over the weekend, since that seemed to make it a little easier on her.
Today, though, she’d started feeling cold and shivery in class. The minute it ended she walked to the Pancake House, but after one look at her pale face, even Mr. Campbell relented and seemed to think she was better off at home. He sent her home and hoped she would be better in time for the shift tomorrow.
Feeling cold all over and with a headache starting to come on, Zoe walked into the apartment feeling as if she’d earned a day at a Spa. The very idea of going straight to bed and resting her aching body was a godsend. She was already running through her plan for the rest of the evening: how long she was going to sleep for and what time she’d get up to work on an assignment. She walked into the quiet apartment and let out a sigh of contentment. Her head was beginning to throb, and the silence was a blessing. Usually the TV was on, or Tyler had his music on, or she’d hear some kind of noise. But today there was pin-drop quietness.
Tyler wouldn’t be back for a few hours.
She headed straight for the kitchen and decided to set out her laptop and folder so that when she got up from her nap, hopefully feeling a lot better, she’d be all ready and motivated to get back to work.
“Tyler?” she shouted out, and walked into the hallway. She looked all around, checked the door, and then called out again.
She thought she’d heard something, or maybe her ears were playing tricks on her. She crept towards Tyler’s door.
‘Tyler?” It was ajar. She knocked, before pushing the door open a little. His room was empty. She went to turn away, but a whole slew of photos on the floor caught her eye. They had slipped off his bedside table and fallen to the floor. An image of Ethan’s face drew her in and she ventured into the room, her heart beating because she suddenly felt like a trespasser. But her feelings of guilt slipped away as she walked towards Ethan’s face staring at her from a glossy photo on the floor.
It was from the night Ethan, Nadine and Becca had all showed up. Zoe bent down, then sat back on her heels as she picked up the photos. She started going through them, one by one, slowly staring at each one.
She carefully examined a photo of Ethan and Nadine smiling at one another. He had a gift—Tyler did. He’d caught the moment. Zoe fingered it gently, the photo of Ethan and Nadine staring into each other’s eyes. Their sense of togetherness, a bond, a oneness, poured out of that picture.
This picture told a thousand words.
What would that feel like, to stare at someone else, to feel what Nadine was feeling? Reluctantly, she peeled her gaze away and looked through them all. There were so many photos. She didn’t even remember Tyler taking all of them. She stopped flicking through them when she came to one particular photo. She heard the sound of her own labored breathing. It was a picture of her looking at Ethan and Nadine looking at one another. Only, she was an onlooker. An unhappy onlooker, her face filled with a look of longing, of regret and sadness that was so completely the opposite of the look exchanged between Ethan and Nadine.
Not only did Tyler know of her feelings for Ethan—feelings that even Ethan himself didn’t know about—but Tyler had caught her red-handed, had exposed her secret for everyone else to see.
Staring at her own picture, she was consumed by the sudden desire to rip it to shreds. To dispose of all evidence which so blatantly exposed her naked feelings.
And then she saw a stack of other photos underneath; they were mostly black-and-white with a few color ones mixed in. These were artsy photos that captured evocative moments, just like the ones he had on the wall. These looked like a new batch, though. Maybe it was something he’d shot recently? She grabbed one that caught her eye instantly—the picture of the sunset over the Golden Gate Bridge.
She heard the key in the door and immediately leapt out of the room at breathless speed, almost knocking her knee against the bed as she rushed past and into her room. She heard the door shut. Tyler was back.
She slid into her room and wondered why she felt so guilty, like a child caught eating sweets from a forbidden cupboard. When her heart had stopped racing, she let out a deep breath and examined the photo clutched between her fingers. Shit.
She couldn’t return it now. Or maybe she ought to. Own up. After all, she hadn’t intended to go in there. He’d understand. Or maybe she’d just slip the photo back into the pile when he was out. He’d never know.
She put the photo in her drawer. Slipped into her lounge pants and tee shirt and decided to lie down for a few hours. Maybe she’d take aspirin to fix that headache of hers first.
Slipping out as quietly as she could, she was almost past his door, when it opened, and Tyler caught her with an easy, “Hey, Zoe. How come you’re back early?”
She looked at him guiltily. “I didn’t feel well after class. Campbell took one look at me and sent me home, told me to get well for tomorrow’s shift.”
“That was big of him,” Tyler said, looking her over carefully. “Want me to get you anything? Fix you dinner or something while you lie down? You’re looking a little pale.”
She shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine.” She snuck a peek over his shoulder, into his room, wondering whether to own up.
“Gotta minute? I’ve got something to show you.”
His door was ajar, and he opened it wider so that she’d follow him in. When she took a step into his room, he came back with the same pictures she’d been looking at moments earlier.
“Take a look at these,” he said softly, when she remained stuck to the floor. He was sifting through the photos she had just been looking through. She took a further step in until they were both standing in the middle of his room.
He started shuffling through the photos again. This time, he only looked through the ones taken at the dinner.
“Nice shots.” She forced a smile, feigning excitement as if she were seeing them for the first time.
He moved them slowly and they both looked at them together.
“They’re crazy about one another, aren’t they?” He looked at her, made her stare down at the photo of Ethan and Nadine.
“Yes, they are,” she acknowledged, genuinely meaning it.
He flicked to the next one. The one of her looking on, sadly, at the two lovebirds. She wished he would replace it, but he held onto it. She could feel his gaze singeing her cheeks. It wasn’t only that he knew. She knew he wanted her to see that he knew.
“There’s a couple missing,” he said, flipping through them all one by one. He looked through them, then repeated the motion. Finally he frowned, looking around.
“You don’t have any photos of you,” she challenged him.
“That’s because I like being on the other side of the lens.” He fidgeted around his bedside table, rummaging for something he’d lost.
“What are they?” She pointed to the scenic photos, of which she’d taken one. He didn’t seem in a hurry to show her any of those.
“They’re just fancy shots. I was experimenting with the lens.�
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She walked towards him and picked up the rest of the photos. She looked through them again, feeling guilty in the process.
“I was going to enter them for a competition—but I’m not sure. I don’t think they’re up to spec.”
Her head exploded. “You’re kidding me.” She flicked through them all, enjoying looking at them a second time. “These are freaking amazing.”
Tyler loosened his tie, and took off his jacket. It seemed like an intimate gesture. Her being in his room, him taking his clothes off, getting ready to unwind. It felt…strangely exciting.
She looked at him sit down on the bed and take off his tie; a look of relief washing over him.
“No, they’re not good enough.” He sounded drained as he lay back on the bed, put his arms behind his head and closed his eyes.
“Tyler, they’re beautiful. You should really enter the competition. What have you got to lose? How will you ever know?” She walked over to the bed, needing him to see what she did.
He opened his eyes and stared at her, the muscles of his jaw tightening as she held up another photo for him to see.
“This one is amazing. See.” She bent forward, holding it down to his face.
“It’s not going to win me a competition.” His gaze scanned over the photo she held out. Then his eyes met hers. She noticed they were shot through with red. He looked more tired than she had seen him in a long time.
She put the photo down. “I wish you’d at least try.” She put the photos on the bedside table.
“Sit, stay a while,” he said softly.
Sit?
He looked so exhausted, she complied, balancing precariously on the edge of the bed, so as not to touch him as he lay stretched out. She suddenly felt her breath quickening, being so close to him.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Everything.”
“Try me.”
Just as he opened his mouth, his countenance changed. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”
She looked at him. “Try me.”
But he shook his head. “No. This is stuff I have to deal with.”
Okay then, have it your way. “I’m going to lie down now. My head is killing me,” she blabbered.
Tyler gave her the strangest look as she left.
Chapter 33
She couldn’t resist it again. It was becoming an addiction—if he wouldn’t let her see him, if he wouldn’t give her the chance to even get close to him, what did he want her to do? The only way she’d feel a sense of completeness was by having some connection to him.
Even if that meant walking into his apartment when he wasn’t there. She wasn’t doing anything wrong; she wasn’t going to wreck the place or leave it dirty.
She only wanted to be where he had been. She lay on his bed and closed her eyes. Just breathing in the scent of him sated her. Today it calmed her down.
She turned to her side and looked at the photos. They were the first thing she’d seen when she’d arrived. A neat little pile of photos sitting by his bedside. With the photo of that girl on the top.
Had he looked at it before he went to bed? No, no, no. That would not do.
It was this girl that was ruining everything. She shouldn’t be the last face Tyler saw before he went to bed… She’d flicked through the photos, getting a glimpse into his life, finding out who his friends where. But this one, this slim, scrawny little hussy was getting in her way.
She’d let the photos fall to the floor in disgust—but she’d make sure she tidied everything before she left. Not yet, though. She still had time.
She could be close to him in this way. See part of him, be a part of his life, on her terms, until he let her in once more. This was nice, thought Margaux, running her hand over his pillows. She got excited knowing he’d laid his head to rest on this very pillow only last night. She inhaled and breathed in deeply and opened her eyes—to find a hair, thick, shiny and dark, and twisted it between her fingers.
Aaaaaah, Tyler. A feeling of contentment settled over her.
She’d already gone through his cupboards, through his clothes, and it gave her a feeling of intimacy that he couldn’t give her in real life. She had to make do with this. For now. Until he saw she was good for him—how right they were for each other.
When that other one was gone.
As if a new thought came to her, she got up, straightened out the bed, made sure everything was exactly as it had been when she’d arrived. She’d booked another meeting in the diary, in case anyone asked. But she’d need to get back to work soon.
Not before…
She knew the layout of their apartment now. Knew where the kitchen and the washroom were. She’d used them even. And made sure everything was back in place.
But there was one room she hadn’t been in…
With her heartbeat mounting, she walked over calmly to the girl’s room. And looked around warily, turning her nose up at the books and papers all placed in neat piles near the dresser. Some on the bed.
For someone so tidy, she was always late, always rushing out in the mornings. Margaux went over to the drawers and makeup bag, looking through them all.
Cheap tampons, not even brand name, and cheap deodorant. Just like the girl. She turned her nose up in disgust.
Then she rifled through her makeup bag…it was sparse. There wasn’t much in here. An almost empty bottle of cheap foundation. A few sticks of lipstick. She opened them up one by one—and found a vampy red. Not her usual color, but she was interested in trying it on.
She twisted it up and drew it on, looking in the mirror. Snapping the lipstick back, she pressed her lips together, touched off the smudged bit at the edges, and smiled at herself. Not bad. Maybe she ought to try this more often. The deep red color suited her dark hair. She slipped the lipstick into her pocket.
Without warning, she heard the front door opening and the sound of footsteps on the hard wooden floor. Her heart beat faster and she glanced at her watch—they were early today—whoever it was.
She frowned, trying to think why someone would come home so early. This wouldn’t do; she couldn’t be found—even if it was Tyler. He couldn’t know she was here. She strained to hear, freezing in place. Someone had walked into the kitchen.
Margaux tiptoed quickly to the door, slipped out into the hallway and slid out, closing the door behind her. She walked away quickly, hoping whoever was inside hadn’t noticed.
Chapter 34
Before she knew it, the weeks rushed past, and Monday turned to Friday, which turned to Monday again.
The extra hours at work were taking their toll, but even though she felt completely drained, Zoe didn’t think she could take another day off sick.
Campbell had been even harder on her for taking that one day off last week.
When her class ended she wanted to hang out with the other students, and longed for their easier more relaxed pace of life—sitting in Starbucks, just hanging out, sometimes working on assignments together and helping one another out.
She wished she could have more of that—sometimes she longed for Billy’s input. He’d have been able to explain things to her when she got stuck. She’d emailed him a few times, updating him on the new events, her course, that she’d moved into Ethan’s old room, about Tyler, and Ethan and Nadine’s engagement. His replies had been short, happy at the news but nothing more. He sounded busy, and she knew distance distilled emotions.
She smoothed down her apron and tried to welcome the fact that she only had another two hours of her shift left. She felt herself becoming exhausted, as she often did when the adrenaline disappeared towards the end of the day.
Each night, she somehow managed to get through her shift with the sheer surge of adrenaline brought on by demanding customers and the fast-paced frenzy of her role. The only problem was motivating herself once she got home late at night, just before midnight, to do her assignments. So she’d tried a new ploy—sleeping first, then waking up ear
ly, around five in the morning, to get her studies done. So far it seemed to be working, but she knew it was all going to catch up on her again.
She was beginning to wonder how long she could last like this.
A new customer had walked in and sat down at a table by the window.
She got ready to greet him, taking her notebook and pencil with her.
“Hey, Zoe.” Hugh’s cheerful face caught her by surprise.
She brightened, feeling better for seeing a familiar face. “Hey,” she replied happily. “Pancakes at this hour?”
He shook his head. “I ate earlier. My girlfriend’s at the movies with some friends, and I was passing by from a meeting. A coffee’s fine, thank you.”
“Girlfriend?” asked Zoe curiously. “Someone you met at the speed-dating event?”
Hugh laughed. “Actually, no. She’s someone I bumped into—and I mean that literally—on my way to work one morning. We got on the same tram.”
Zoe felt a sense of elation upon hearing such a story. “Awww, that’s so sweet.”
“It’s interesting, I’ll give you that.” He coughed lightly. “Now, about that coffee.”
“Oh, sure,” said Zoe, not even bothering to write it down.
“You’re nearly finished for the day, aren’t you?” he asked, looking up at the clock on the far wall. It was almost nine.
Oh shit.
She hadn’t told him, hadn’t seen the need to, about her extended hours. “They, uh—they extended my hours. I finish at eleven now.”
Hugh looked at her with concern. “Every day?”
She nodded slowly.
“At least that explains it.”
She raised her eyebrows in alarm. Explains what?
“You’ve been looking a bit peaky, lately. I honestly thought you’d nearly fallen asleep in my Rails framework class yesterday.”
Zoe rushed to reassure him. “Your class isn’t boring,” She smiled at him.
“That’s good to know.”
She wanted him to know she could keep up. “But my grades haven’t slipped and I’m keeping up with the assignments.” Barely.
