Just Like You Said It Would Be

by C. K. Kelly Martin

  “I’m positive. He was standing at the kitchen window and he looked right at me.” I’d seen the shock in my uncle’s eyes. First, confusion. Then indignation. “We’re screwed.” I went into a tailspin, trying to think my way out of what had just happened. “He didn’t see you. Maybe you could stay down here a while longer and I’ll go up to the house alone. Make something up about forgetting a notebook down here or something.”

  “Maybe you don’t have to say anything,” Darragh said, managing to sound reasonably calm. “Maybe he won’t—”

  A rapid-fire knock at the door interrupted Darragh’s train of thought. Our eyes widened in tandem. I hustled over to the door, unlocking it with quivering fingers. Uncle Frank was standing outside wearing plaid pyjamas under a long velour robe that looked like it had escaped from the seventies. He didn’t say a word, just pointed out the door with his thumb as he eyeballed Darragh and me. Then he plucked the shed key from my fingers and dropped it into one of his velour pockets. Thinking back, he wasn’t as angry as he could’ve been, more like a high school teacher who was tired of telling kids to turn off their phones during class. But I was mortified. I barely looked at Darragh as I shuffled out the door and onto the pebble path to the house, his hand skimming my back in reassurance.

  “Darragh,” my uncle commanded, indicating the side gate with his head, “out this way.”

  Darragh spun to give me a final regret-laced look before unlatching the gate and disappearing into the night. I marched through the back door and into the kitchen—Uncle Frank a step behind me—at approximately the same second as my aunt burst into the room in slippers and a cardigan thrown overtop a pair of striped of pyjamas. She was moving purposefully, like her mind was on other things, and having been interrupted she looked perplexedly from my uncle to me. “She was in the flat in the back garden,” Uncle Frank declared. “And not alone.”

  Aunt Kate sighed, hurling a terse glance at me from under her lashes. A young man who towered over her followed her into the kitchen, his face lighting up at the sight of me. Jack? He was at least six-foot-three and his once dirty blond hair had darkened into a light brown. I knew that from the pictures in his bedroom, but I guess I’d hung on to my own vintage image of him somehow.

  Aunt Kate darted over to the counter and snatched up the kettle as Jack exclaimed, “Amira!” He grinned and flung his arms around me, enveloping me in a bear hug. “You grew up,” he noted.

  “You too.” My mouth was smiling, but the tension from being discovered by my uncle clung to my cheeks and jaw. “I didn’t know you were coming back today.”

  “No one did. It was spur of the moment.” Jack’s keen gaze shifted from his parents to me, sensing the unhappy undercurrent flowing between the three of us. “Did I just land you in hot water?”

  “She landed there all by herself,” Aunt Kate said curtly, her eyes not leaving my cousin.

  Uncle Frank slid his hands into his robe pockets. “Just go up to bed now, Amira. You can catch up with Jack in the morning.”

  It was screamingly obvious that my aunt and uncle didn’t want to have to cope with me right then and as I turned to go, Jack mouthed, “Sorry.”

  I shook my head at him. It wasn’t his fault.

  Heading out of the kitchen, I bumped into Zoey in the hall. “Did you see, Jack?” she sang, much too exuberant for my current state of mind. “He just got back from Australia.”

  “Can’t talk now. I’ve been sent upstairs.” Behind us the kitchen was bursting with happy chatter. I left it in my wake, numbly climbing the steps to Jack’s room.

  Still in shock over my bad luck, I sank onto the bed, slid my phone out of my back pocket and texted Darragh:

  Alone in my room now. Jack came home unexpectedly. That’s why my uncle was up. Everyone is. Where are you?

  His reply was immediate:

  Just around the corner. Heading for my bike. What did your aunt & uncle say to you?

  My fingers were chilled from all those hours in the shed and it took me longer than usual to key in:

  No one’s really said anything yet. They told me to go to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow, ok?

  Darragh’s words shot back to me:

  OK. Don’t worry. I can come round if you can’t leave the house.

  I grimaced as I read his most recent text. I’d been grounded for less earlier in the summer; my midnight curfew was bound to seem like limitless freedom compared to the fallout about to drop on us. My parents would lose their minds when they heard.

  The nightstand clock radio read 3:12 and I slunk over to the window and stared into the backyard, trying to catch sight of the stray cats that had ruined our night. They must’ve moved on to someone else’s yard; I couldn’t see a thing. My mind kept rolling over the same shitty thoughts about what this would mean for Darragh and me as I stared into the blackness. Some other night we would’ve gotten away with it. Some other night I could’ve lain there with him until the sun began to rise and no one—except maybe some early morning Magpies or feral cats—would have known a thing.

  Slowly, I trudged to the dresser and pulled a T-shirt and pair of sweatpants out of the top drawer. I eased my way out of my clothes and into my pyjamas with the dull-limbed heaviness of someone with the flu. Then I climbed into bed and tossed and turned for hours, sweating into my pillow. The last time I looked at the clock it was seven in the morning and when I next glanced at the digits it was close to ten-thirty and my cell was ringing.

  It was Darragh, wanting to know how my aunt and uncle had reacted. There was nothing new to tell him and I got out of bed and wandered around the house, clutching the phone and looking for some sign of life. Zoey and Jack were sitting at the kitchen table forking rice noodles into their mouths. “Don’t worry, they’ve gone off to work,” Zoey announced. The spicy smell from the noodles made my empty stomach gurgle. “Is that Darragh?” she asked, motioning to the phone in my hand.

  “Yeah.” My voice was raspy. I hadn’t drunk anything for at least twelve hours.

  Zoey nodded swiftly. “I’ll be heading out soon myself.”

  “And I can disappear too,” Jack volunteered, his eyes rueful. “Just say the word. I’m sorry about last night. I would’ve stayed away until morning if I’d had any idea.”

  “You don’t have to leave; you just got home. I should probably move my stuff out of your room.”

  “There’s that extra bed in the attic,” Zoey declared. “We can carry it down and move it into my room for Amira.”

  Jack made a face. “That ancient thing sags like a hammock. We can’t do that to her.” He fixed his eyes on me. “I can sleep on the couch like I did last night. It’s only another fortnight. And I don’t mind going out. I can head into town and get reacquainted with the place. See what’s changed since the start of the year.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.” My cousins were giving me the green light, an opportunity for Darragh to come over. It was good news but I couldn’t leave it at that. “Did your parents say anything to either of you about telling my parents?” And what my mom and dad intended to do to me?

  Zoey shook her head, Jack piping up to say, “They were too busy giving me the inquisition.”

  “You?” I said. “Why?”

  Jack laughed, Zoey eyeing him knowingly. “Don’t keep the boy waiting,” he told me. “I’ll fill you in later.”

  I shuffled out of the room and back upstairs, leaving my cousins to their noodles. Darragh told me he’d be over as soon as he could and I showered and pulled a comb through my hair in record time. Zoey was gone by the time I went downstairs again, but Jack was washing dirty dishes in the kitchen. “I’ll get out of your hair as soon as he arrives,” he said from the sink. “So, you and Darragh?”

  “Me and Darragh,” I confirmed. “You know him?”

  “Only a bit. Through Zoey.” Jack wiped his hands on the nearest dishtowel, grin widening. “But I can see the appeal.” His tone and expression underscored his words, leaving my mind
galloping to catch up.

  Oh, okay. The last time I’d seen my cousin his sexuality—or anyone else’s—wasn’t something I’d given much thought. Now I flashed back to thirteen-year-old Jack, searching for signs that he was gay in retrospect. But that was stupid. He was a person, not a sexual orientation.

  “I can see you processing,” Jack teased. “Are you going to be all right or do I need to get the smelling salts?”

  I swatted the air like he was being silly. “Can I use my shock at your dad finding me and Darragh in the shed last night as an excuse for being weird?”

  “I’m just messing,” Jack said. “You and I haven’t seen each other in years. I wouldn’t expect you to know who I like.” My cousin leant against the counter. “Can I make you some tea or get you some breakfast? Technically you’re still the guest here. I’m a lazy git normally so if I were you I’d say yes before I change my mind.”

  “Okay, yes. But just some toast for breakfast.” I found myself smiling at my long lost cousin, despite last night’s events. “You’re so tall now. This is really weird. In my head you’re still thirteen.”

  “It’s even weirder for me,” Jack said. “You were just a kid the last time I saw you.”

  As he’d promised, my cousin made tea and toast. Some people take a long time to get close to, with others it happens nearly instantly. Jack and I clicked right away, exactly like we had when I’d been eight. He sat across the kitchen table from me and explained what had brought him back from Australia so abruptly: an Irish guy named Gavin who he’d been seeing in Australia for the past six months. Gavin’s visa expired first and initially they’d planned to catch up with each other in Ireland later. “But I couldn’t bear the thought of being so far apart for months to come,” Jack said. “At the last minute I decided to go on standby for his flight home. No seats came up, but I caught the very next flight out of Melbourne.”

  “Where’s Gavin now?” I asked.

  “Kilkenny. With his parents. That was part of last night’s discussion with my mum and dad. They’re not comfortable with the idea of having him stay over, but with both of us living at home at the moment I need them to reconsider. Dad, in particular, keeps nursing the idea that I’ll straighten out and find myself a girlfriend. He voted for same sex marriage in the referendum, but his support for the idea is more theoretical than practical.” Jack sipped his tea. “There have been some girls in the past too,” he admitted. “So he’s not dreaming that up from thin air, but generally I prefer boys. And Gavin and I are completely committed to each other. I’ve never felt quite this way about anyone before. It’s really knocked me for six.”

  “So for now you and Gavin are in a long distance relationship?” I swallowed the final piece of my toast.

  “Not as distant as it would’ve been. Kilkenny’s only ninety minutes away on the train. And Gavin plans to move to Dublin. He’d find more work here and then we could get a flat togeth—” The doorbell rang, ending Jack’s sentence for him. “There’s my curtain call,” he said, pushing his chair back. “See you at dinner?”

  “I’ll be here.” I’d probably never be allowed outside again.

  We walked to the door together, Darragh and Jack exchanging hellos and good to see you’s on the front stoop. Once Darragh was inside with me, the two of us standing in the front hall, the atmosphere rapidly shifted. “It won’t be that bad,” Darragh told me. “I’ll take some afternoons off. We’ll still see each other, no matter what they say.”

  “I know.” I kissed him, slipping my tongue into his my mouth and letting my hands wander. I’d felt like a chalk outline of myself when I’d woken up, but now I was flipping into another gear. Darragh slid his hands over my back pockets, fondling my ass. I don’t know if we were too physically into each other to spare another moment being upset about being caught or whether this was the only way we thought we could avoid it.

  “Is Zoey around?” Darragh asked under his breath.

  “She just left. No one’s here.”

  I took his hand and led him up to Jack’s room. If you’d been a fly on the bedroom wall you’d think that we were two people who’d been resisting each other with every inch of their willpower for years and couldn’t stand to hold back another single second, not two people who’d spent hours pressed up together only the night before. We were feverish, wild. Not just in our actions but in our words.

  I bent over Darragh’s body and curved my lips around him, taking him in. He tasted like summer skin and I didn’t really know what I was doing, only what I’d seen online and what Joss had told me about her two experiences with Anthony. Mostly, whatever I did was pure instinct.

  Darragh’s hands were gentle on my head. He just lay back and let me do it, his breathing growing steadily heavier. The only time I felt awkward was when he asked where I wanted him to come. The question reminded me that I shouldn’t have begun to go down on him without a condom. He wasn’t a virgin like I was. There was no guarantee he was one-hundred percent infection-free.

  “Do you have condoms?” I asked, my voice sounding loud in the quiet room. “It’d be safer.”

  Darragh pushed himself up on his elbows, his chest and neck flushed. “In the wallet in my back pocket.” I reached down beside the end of the bed and fished into his jeans, self-consciousness prickling at my cheeks.

  I handed him his wallet, Darragh plucking a condom from inside. He tore the packet hurriedly open and expertly rolled it on. Probably most girls hadn’t asked him to do that for blow jobs, but once we were over the hump of awkwardness and I was wrapping my mouth back around him, I was glad I had. No matter how I felt about him, I had to look out for myself.

  Darragh didn’t last long after that, and then he was bringing me to the edge with his fingers, one of them poised to dip inside me as he stopped to watch me for confirmation. Yes, I told him, my answer as definite as his movements were slow. We’ve never done that before, but it didn’t hurt; it made me wonder again what it would feel like to have him inside me. Soon he was diving down between my legs, doing things that made me feel so restless and slippery that it was nearly unbearable, my body jerking underneath his tongue.

  If the physical sensations weren’t so strong, I might’ve been embarrassed. It seemed so intimate. I got really noisy and messed Darragh’s hair up so badly that he looked like the before part of a hair gel commercial. When I joked about it afterwards he smiled and said I looked that way too. I stood up to peer in the mirror and sure enough I had untamed zombie hair. “We look like two people who’ve already had sex,” I said, dropping back onto the bed with him.

  “Damn close,” Darragh agreed.

  “So would you?” I asked, levity in my voice but my pulse racing. “Right now if I asked you to?”

  “In a heartbeat. If you really wanted me to.” He wiped the grin from his lips and leaned over to kiss me between the eyes. “You know it’s up to you what happens between us.”

  Our foreheads were so close together that I couldn’t keep his face in focus, but we kept staring at each other, his blurry blue irises peering into my dark brown ones and the shiver settling inside me like it was a newly found part of me that was there to stay.

  “I thought about it all night the time we fought catching a taxi together,” he confessed. “You acted like you hated me.”

  “And that turned you on?”

  Darragh shook his head. “Not that. It’s the things you say, the way you are.” He cupped a hand tenderly around one of my breasts. “But when you were angry with me that night, that’s when I realized you were getting to me.”

  “You were getting to me too. You always get to me.”

  We started again, our eyes still locked and our fingers smoothing compulsively over each other’s skin, feeling their way to wherever we were going. Our time together was too precious to hold anything back.

  But then the landline telephone rang and I had to break away from him. I couldn’t ignore the ring—my aunt and uncle would expect me to
be home. I snatched my top from beside the bed, pulling it over my head as I ran to Zoey’s room to pick up her telephone. “Hello?”

  “Amira.” My mom’s imperial tone made me wince. “I can’t believe I’m having to make this call. What’s the matter with you?”

  The words streamed out of me without any punctuation, a frazzled run on sentence: “Nothing’s the matter I’m sorry it’s not how it sounds really I know how it must have seemed to Aunt Kate and Uncle Frank, but it wasn’t how it looked.”

  “Don’t tell me it’s not how it looked,” my mother said. “What reason could you have to be in your aunt and uncle’s flat in the middle of the night? What’s going on in your head for you to act this way? Because I honestly thought you knew better.”

  I sat down on Zoey’s unmade bed, my head in my left hand as the right clutched the phone. “I do. Nothing happened. I’m telling you the truth. We just needed more time together. We were hanging out, listening to music. It got late and we fell asleep.”

  “It scares me that you can lie this easily.” I drooped further as the chill in my mother’s voice skated across the long distance line. “The only place you’re supposed to be after curfew is home. So as a starting point, being in the flat isn’t nothing.”

  “I know; you’re right. But I don’t want you to think anything else happened.” I stared down at my bare legs, not feeling the slightest bit wrong about what Darragh and I had done—just wishing my mom could understand. She didn’t have to outright approve but some girls had mothers who put them on the pill or gave them condoms. Why couldn’t she be a fraction more like them?

  “Listen, Mom, I really like him.” I was pleading with her to meet me halfway. “We’re running out of time before I go. We were even hoping that he could see me at home, maybe at Christmas. Meet you guys and—”

  I wanted to take it back the second the words were out. Discussing Darragh visiting while my mother was already worked up was an epic mistake. “Where did you think he would stay?” she cut in.