This Is Now

by Maggie Gilbert

  ‘Told you,’ Sebastien said, and he sounded incredibly smug. I looked down and saw his hands resting on his thighs. I’d been doing it myself, and I hadn’t even noticed.

  I did notice then, though, how much my right hand was killing me. It was like someone had set it on fire.

  ‘Ow,’ I said, and when Sebastien took the bow from my hand I could hardly move my thumb.

  ‘Sorry Jess, I should have stopped you sooner, but you were doing so beautifully.’

  ‘That’s OK,’ I murmured, opening and closing my hand, trying to get some feeling back. I looked at my thumb, at the dent in the fleshy part just beside the nail. I reached for Sebastien’s hand and felt his thumb, the toughness of his skin now explained. I picked his hand up and peered at it, and saw his thumbnail was ridged, bent where it rested against the bow for so many hours of the day. Curious, I turned my attention to his left hand, lifting his fingers from the cello strings, feeling his fingertips, the thick pads of calloused skin.

  ‘Your fingers are like rock. Can you even feel that?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. He sounded odd, his voice deep and muffled and I glanced at him quickly. I knew that change in a guy’s voice. I knew what it meant.

  My heart thudded against my ribs, and my mouth was suddenly dry. I realised from the way his voice had thickened that he probably wanted to kiss me, and his mouth was definitely within kissing distance from mine. I knew I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted that kiss so badly I shocked myself, and I willed him to want it as much as me, to tilt his head and move his hand up to my face and bring me those few inches closer.

  The cello slipped, sliding away from us; I hadn’t realised Sebastien had let go of it and so had I.

  ‘Shit!’ Sebastien lunged for the cello, his chest slamming into my back so hard he almost knocked me flying. I grabbed hold to stop myself from spilling onto the floor and it was only when Sebastien had caught the cello and stopped swearing that I realised I was hanging onto his thighs, and I let go as if my fingers were on fire, and definitely my face was flaming hot. What must he think of me? I’d have jumped up and away from him, except I was pretty much sandwiched in between the cello and Sebastien. I think I was going to have an imprint of it on my breast bone.

  ‘Sorry Jess, are you OK?’

  ‘Sure,’ I mumbled, rubbing my chest and thinking it was me who should be apologising for groping him like that, but if he hadn’t noticed I wasn’t about to draw attention to it. I closed my the aching fingers of my right hand into a fist, because I didn’t trust it not to go exploring again. Maybe I hadn’t read him right. He seemed a lot more worried about the cello than thinking of me.

  ‘Sorry about that.’

  ‘That’s OK.’

  ‘I had this vision of the cello hitting the floor and I just panicked.’

  ‘It’s OK though?’

  ‘Oh, yeah, it’s fine, but if it had fallen, well. Worse than bad.’ He actually shuddered, and eased it far enough away from us to slide his hand over it, as if checking it was OK. Or reassuring himself. A little flutter passed through my stomach. Troy had an electric guitar that he’d saved up for, from when he thought he was going to be the next Eddie Van Halen, and at the time it had been his most prized possession. And Brian could be a bit goofy about his pit bull, Bruiser. And of course Sharon was pretty fierce about little Tayler. But I’d never seen either of my brothers touch their guitar or their dog or even their girlfriend the way Sebastien ran his hand over the gleaming wood of the cello.

  ‘I guess you’d hate for it to be damaged,’ I said, understanding the panic. Or at least, I thought I did. I didn’t really have anything to compare it to.

  ‘Absolutely. Not to mention I’d be in all kinds of shit. Trouble. Sorry. This cello is unique. It’s irreplaceable.’

  The flutter in my stomach slowed, and tightened in on itself.

  ‘You don’t mean literally you couldn’t replace it, do you? Is it, uh, expensive?’

  ‘It’s one of the few Stradivarius cellos in private hands. It’s insured for two million dollars.’

  ‘Oh my God,’ I said, fighting down an urge to vomit and drawing my hands to my chest. ‘And you let me touch it? Are you crazy?’

  Sebastien looked at me, wide eyed, as though he hadn’t even thought about it. Then he grinned, that big wide 120% grin that was starting to do weird things to my insides.

  ‘No, I’m not crazy. You handled it like you thought it was priceless even before you knew it was.’

  ‘I almost dropped it, shit, I feel sick. Let me up.’

  I squirmed free of him, and the multi-million dollar instrument, which now seemed horribly fragile and vulnerable to me, careful to arch my body away from any contact with it. Sebastien’s grin turned into laughter.

  ‘Don’t be silly Jess, you act like you might kill it with your super powers or something.’

  Once free, I crossed my arms across my chest and glared at him.

  ‘You’re the idiot. What if I’d damaged it? I could never afford to fix it.’

  ‘Like I said, it’s insured,’ Sebastien said. He’d nestled the cello in close to him and was idly playing some notes. Hearing him play again showed me just how bad my pathetic efforts had been. And something about the way he made that comment about insurance just rubbed me up all kinds of the wrong way. He sounded, oh, I don’t know. Snotty. I was used to that from Anna, but he hadn’t seemed like that, until now. The sense of disappointment I felt was crushing, and ridiculous.

  All my pleasure had evaporated, in the beautiful house, the wonder of actually getting some notes out of the cello, the warmth of his arms around me. I felt like it had all been some big joke at my expense, and even though a part of me, that bit with the small voice that piped up when it thought I was being a bitch, suggested I was being too touchy, I couldn’t afford to listen. I couldn’t afford to listen to that voice if it was wrong. Not about this, not about Sebastien, and not after the fight I’d had with Mum. I needed to go home and make up with her. I didn’t want to be out on the street, and I was aware I didn’t belong here, where ‘million’ wasn’t just an exaggeration.

  ‘I have to go,’ I said abruptly.

  ‘What? Now?’

  ‘I need to — I have to go, I had a fight with Mum and I need to get home before — just, now.’ I started towards the door that would take me back the way we came in, and lead me to the front door.

  ‘Jess, wait, let me give you a lift.’ Sebastien got up and reached for the metal spike at the base of the cello, twiddling the knob to slide it in so he could fit it back into its case. Huh, the gigantic triple-reinforced case made sense now, that’s for sure.

  ‘Don’t worry about it, really. Thanks for picking me up today, but I can get the bus and that.’

  ‘What? No, don’t be silly, I’ll take you.’

  ‘I’d rather get the bus and walk, thanks,’ I said, the inner bitch taking over and injecting some snootiness of my own into my tone.

  ‘Jess, hey,’ Sebastien said, but I just kept going. I had the advantage, now, because I knew there was no way he could leave that cello, or just throw it into its case like a cheap guitar and come after me, and charm me with that careless little-boy grin.

  I passed through the house without even taking one last look at the beautiful lines or clever use of light and space, and let myself out the beautiful, unprotected (and unlocked, Jesus!) front door. I popped the lock as I left so anyone who wanted to go in and empty the place out or murder Sebastien while he packed up his cello would have to at least force the door open first.

  Out on the street, I wished for a cigarette, and was just as annoyed for wanting one as I was at not having any. I zipped up my hoodie and shoved my hands into my pockets, my bag bumping against my hip as I walked down Sebastien’s street.

  I absolutely didn’t want him to come out after me, although I couldn’t help wondering what I’d do if he did. I was overwhelmed with such a jumble of thoughts and feelings, I didn’t know what
to think. I had no plan to catch the bus, at least not yet. A good long walk might help me clear my head.

  Had I really thought I could run to Sebastien? That coming here would give me some kind of peace or help or even some bit of calm? How on earth could he understand the situation I was in, coming from the place he did? I just felt dissatisfied and restless and fed up with not having things as easy as he did. Yeah, all I needed was a temper tantrum about now, to really establish how mature I was.

  Every time I thought maybe I was getting some sense I proved myself wrong. But I had learned something important that afternoon, even if I didn’t know what I was going to do about it. At least, not yet.

  For now I needed to go home and apologise to my mother and she’d probably make me apologise to Greg, too, and I would do that.

  I had to look out for Mum, too, even — especially — if she couldn’t look out for herself. She was so desperate for someone to love her, she’d turn a blind eye to his shit.

  Mum was right about something, even if she went about it in a fucked-up way. She was allowed to be happy. She thought she was happy, but how could that work out with a guy who thought it was OK to bludge off her and encourage her to drink and gamble and waste her life?

  The thing was, I was right about something too. Greg wasn’t good enough for her. Mum deserved to be happy, and she deserved someone who, when he looked at her, it was as though she was special.

  My mother deserved someone who touched her like she was a Stradivarius cello, rare and precious. I knew what that looked like now, and I bet Greg never looked at my mother like that.

  And it wasn’t the way Jay had ever looked at me. Maybe at last I had my answer why I kept trying to resist him.

  Chapter 9

  ‘Are you avoiding me Jess?’

  I looked up from another unsuccessful wrestling match with equations, not happy at being interrupted, to say the least. Jay leaned against the doorframe of my bedroom, his face almost expressionless. In the course of our relationship it had alternately made me desperate to find out what went on behind that look and driven me nuts that he was so shut off. I wondered what he was really asking me.

  ‘No, I’m trying to do my homework.’

  ‘Very funny. Dunno why you bother, anyway. You know my sister would give you an apprenticeship if you asked.’

  ‘I’d be a crap hairdresser,’ I said automatically, then snapped my mouth closed. Saying nothing was safer; even commenting on what I didn’t want might let out the idea of what I did want. I couldn’t just shrug it off, if Jay laughed at my dreams. What he thought of me mattered to me. Despite my feeling that he didn’t look at me like I farted gold dust or something, I did believe he cared about me. It was just the how much part that remained a mystery.

  I caught myself tapping my pencil against my notebook and forced myself to stop. What was this with the ‘not bothering about school’ bullshit? It wasn’t that unexpected coming from someone like Greg, with his dependence on welfare or whatever illegal shit he got his money from, and who despite his lame attempt at parenting, didn’t know me at all. But I guess it was a surprise coming from Jay. I hadn’t realised he thought I was wasting my time at school. Maybe it was all just too close to what I was starting to think myself, but didn’t want to accept. Maybe I really had left it too late, and I couldn’t get that time back, so it was pointless now to even try.

  ‘You’re a crap liar,’ he said, and I almost fainted. What was he talking about? Had he got wind of my short-lived, not to mention one sided, flirtation with the East side? Not that I was going to dwell on that. No. Not going to think about Seb— that at all.

  ‘I can tell you have been avoiding me, and that’s harsh, because, you know, after the other night, and the night before that, I thought you and me were sweet.’

  ‘I didn’t know we weren’t.’

  He seemed to think that was permission to come into my room and sit on my bed. My pencil rattled anxiously against the pages again and I stuck it back in the chipped coffee mug that I used as my pen holder. I swivelled in my chair so I was facing Jay, but I didn’t get up.

  ‘You know what I mean Jess.’

  ‘No, actually, I don’t.’ I folded my arms and stared at him, my heart thudding in my chest. He was so cute, even sitting there on my bed with his face now creased in a puzzled frown, eying me as if I’d suddenly gone mad. Maybe I had. I was definitely feeling more and more out of sorts with everyone around me, that was for sure.

  ‘Ah, Jess, yeah you do. We’re made for each other.’

  I blinked. Were we? Then why was it so hard?

  Jay got up and came towards me, and I was so surprised I got up out of my chair. He reached out and tucked some of my hair behind my ear, and as usual, it sent a shiver straight up the back of my neck.

  ‘I love you Jess, don’t you know that?’

  I opened my mouth and nothing came out. I had no idea what to say to that, because I didn’t know it. I didn’t know anything about anything, or anyone. That was all I knew right then.

  I shrugged uncomfortably.

  ‘It’s easy to say,’ I said.

  Jay’s hand came to rest on my shoulder.

  ‘Yeah? How come I’ve never heard you say it then?’

  Oh, jeez, what the hell was I going to say to that? This time, knowing I had no idea what to say, I just kept my mouth shut so I could avoid looking like an idiot. Or maybe blurting out something terrible and final. Like, ‘Because I’m not sure I do love you.’

  Jay surprised me again. He took me by the shoulders and pulled me close, and kissed that closed mouth of mine, and the shivers radiated out along my arms and down my spine. I opened my mouth, and let him in.

  When he let me go we were both breathing heavily, and I, at least, was feeling totally disoriented. I flopped back down onto the chair, my skin zinging with the after effects of that kiss. He knew how to kiss.

  ‘See?’ Jay said, looking at me expectantly.

  I immediately felt like I was back in maths class, the stupid one, the only one who couldn’t catch on to whatever the teacher thought was obvious.

  ‘No,’ I said crankily, coming back to earth with an unwelcome reality check. Yeah, maths homework, that was my world right now. I might have mixed feelings about Jay, but when he kissed me all the rest-of-the-world shit stopped bugging me so much. Then he had to mess it up and talk.

  ‘I love you, you love me. It’s obvious.’

  Oh, if only he knew how close I was to stabbing him with a pencil at that one little word he’d stuck on the end there. I drew a breath.

  ‘Not to me.’ I broke away from him and sat on my bed, grabbing a cushion and putting it on my lap.

  ‘I don’t get you, Jess,’ Jay said. ‘I don’t know what I have to do to prove it to you.’ He ran his hands through his hair, leaving it sticking up everywhere, like it looked when he woke up in the mornings. I looked away, and concentrated on picking at a loose thread on my cushion. The cover was patchwork, or my lame attempt at it. I’d pretty much sucked at the textiles part of Design and Technology. But I’d aced all the construction assignments.

  Jay took a couple of agitated steps but then he had to turn around and pace back to where he’d started. It wasn’t a big room. He looked at me, then instead of continuing to pace, he changed direction and came over, sitting down beside me. On the bed. I shifted my leg away from him, cautiously, wondering if he expected this to end up with sex. That was not going to happen, I realised. No way. Not this time.

  Oh, dangerous territory, this. In all kinds of ways.

  I realised too, that my hands were sweaty, and I wiped them on the cushion. I was nervous, heart speeding up, and I wasn’t sure why.

  ‘Jess, when you asked for time, I really tried. I know you need to get out there a bit more, but I hate the thought of you being with another guy.’

  ‘I didn’t break up with you so I could sleep around,’ I said, offended. That was so not what I’d expected him to come out wi
th.

  ‘No, no, that’s not what I said. It’s not what I meant. I thought — never mind what I thought. Jess, I miss you. Haven’t you had enough time yet? I want you back.’

  ‘What about Anna?’

  Jay snapped his fingers, and I jumped at the sharp sound.

  ‘She’s gone.’

  ‘Just like that?’

  ‘Just say the word.’

  I looked hard at him then.

  ‘What, you’re begging me to come back and you haven’t even broken up with Anna?’

  ‘What’s that got to do with it? And, babe, this is not me begging.’

  I hit him with the pillow before I’d half formed the impulse to do it, suddenly angry.

  ‘You should be begging, you arsehole, for trying to play two chicks at once. Well, you can piss off, because no way in hell am I playing that game.’ Not anymore.

  Jay almost fell off the bed, whether because the second time I swung the pillow I aimed for his head, or he was just completely caught off guard. I know I was shocked at myself; I’d never yelled at him, never swore in front of him, definitely never whacked him with a pillow. I sat there, breathing heavily, heart pounding, considering taking another swing. I was absolutely, totally and completely 3000% furious. At myself, as much as at him. And oh, his assumptions stung, even though I told myself I knew what he was like, knew where his limits were. That he had to hang on to his stupid pride and be all cocky with that not begging comment, fuck. It was like a lie and it made me mad. It made my heart ache.

  Jay recovered first, and grabbed the pillow, trying to pull it away from me. I hung on. Damned if I was giving up my cushion.

  ‘Jess, stop.’

  ‘You stop.’

  ‘Come on, this is silly,’ Jay said, and started to laugh.

  I tried to hold onto my hurt and anger with the cushion, but I knew I was doomed. If I’d found it hard to resist his kiss, I was helpless when it came to his laughter.

  I started to giggle, and all the strength went out of my arms, and he seized the cushion, sending it flying across the room. I thought this was extra funny, so I laughed harder, and then Jay was laughing at me laughing, and we were both flopping on the bed, helpless. It would have been a perfect opportunity to smack the bejesus out of him, but I was over it. And I was too busy trying to breathe.