Among the first things added to the list were currently available pottery classes, trivia nights, life drawing courses and poetry readings. Tabitha of course was initially un-contactable during this stage, which drove Serena into a frenzy whenever she needed a shoulder to lean on or permission to borrow her furry pink boots. Back then her best friend was out every single night, doing any one of the hundred exciting things written on the Wicked Adventure List. Thankfully since Serena’s arrival, Tabitha had sensed the urgency and given it all up.
“You must meet heaps of guys doing all those classes,” Serena said, buffing her fingernails. “How come nothing eventuates then?”
Tabitha stopped her buffing and looked up at her best friend.
“What do you mean by that?” she said, obviously offended.
“Well…” Where did Serena begin? Her best friend was a beautiful girl: tall, stick thin with luscious black wavy hair and blue cat-like eyes. A bit gothic for most men with the overboard eyeliner usage but if Serena was a guy she’d be intrigued by the whole outside package. As for once she opened her mouth, sure Tabitha was a bit thoughtless, frivolous, and shallow but deep down, once you got to know her, there was plenty of gold underneath the dirt.
Any average bystander would consider Tabitha a sex machine but honestly the girl hadn’t ever had a proper boyfriend in her life. Not one and she was the same age as Serena. Admittedly Tabitha always had good excuses why potential Mister Right was really Mister Wrong (like too ugly, too stupid, too poor) but after all these duds, Serena was getting a bit skeptical. They couldn’t all possibly be the son of Satan and Dumb and Dumber character replicas. Maybe eighty per cent of men but not the entire lot! There had to come a time when Tabitha stopped to ask herself who was really the one with the problem.
Oops judging by the look on Tabitha’s face now wasn’t the time to ask.
“Nothing,” Serena replied, secretly annoyed that she couldn’t tell her best friend the truth. If only Tabitha wasn’t so bloody fiery and defensive, she could let it spill. “I just thought there’d be at least one nice guy who had crossed your path.”
“Well there hasn’t been.”
That was when Serena wondered whether she should bring up the topic of Rick. Ever since the two had met at Guerrilla Zoo’s big launch (when Markie was so rapturous with joy he momentarily forgot all about his contempt for Tabitha and invited her anyway) her eyes had glazed over at the thought of Rick. Tabitha got that silly schoolgirl grin that stretched way too wide across her face whenever Rick’s name was mentioned. It was just a shame the feelings were so obviously not reciprocated. Rick had taken one look at Tabitha that night and ran straight into the arms of another girl. Literally. So despite the attraction, Tabitha hadn’t forgiven him for that slap in the face just yet. Even to this day speaking his name outside the professional context was dangerous territory. Of course Tabitha was allowed to bring him up whenever she had a temporary memory lapse (which was quite often actually) but Serena - never, no, under absolutely no circumstances.
Right now however, seeing that she and Tabitha were living together like a husband and wife, Serena felt tempted to break tradition. Why not mention Rick just once in a casual sort of way? Maybe it was okay if she treated it as an experiment, just to track the reaction in Tabitha: pupil dilation, increase in breathing, that sort of thing.
“Markie will probably move in with Rick when we do the swap in six weeks, you know.”
Tabitha raised her eyebrows. “Oh so does that mean you’ll be seeing Markie then?”
“I guess so.” Serena shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t think we’re immature enough to schedule the move on different days.”
“You never know,” Tabitha pouted back. “It makes sense to avoid a clash, just to keep a bit more suspense in your break up.”
Excuse me? Break-up? Did Tab just use the word break up?
“This is not a GOD DAMN break-up,” Serena seethed. By this point, she had really had enough. Why did she have to watch her words about Rick when Tabitha obviously felt comfortable enough blabbing all sorts of slapdash about Serena’s man?
“A break up,” she continued,” is when partner A & B go separate ways, never ever to be seen again. I, just to clarify, am on a break. I will be seeing Markie again – in six weeks time when we do the switch and at twelve weeks to consolidate. But I guess you couldn’t establish the difference given you’ve never actually had a relationship.”
Tabitha smiled back, blinking her eyes rapidly. Oh, gosh, that couldn’t be a good sign, could it? If the past was anything to go by it meant she was angry, very, very angry.
“Since when have you been waiting to get that crap out?” Tabitha asked flippantly. Gosh that girl knew how to do flippant so well it was irritating.
“Since now,” Serena replied. She took in a breath. “I’m concerned for you.”
“Don’t be.”
“Well I am. Being your best friend and all I can’t help it.”
“Oh how nice,” she smiled, except her words came out sounding all sarcastic and icy cold.
“Has this anger got anything to do with Rick, by some chance?” Serena dared to ask. But all she got was the death look.
“I told you never ever to go there,” Tab replied.
Then she got up and walked out the room.
Tabitha stormed upstairs into the loft and kicked off her clogs. How dare Serena bring up the subject of Rick! It wasn’t as if they were somewhere neutral like at the coffee shop or sunbathing at the sea. They were on her territory and still Serena had the nerve to mention him.
The cow probably thought she had a right given they were best friends but really some lines you don’t ever cross. Tabitha understood the line well: she didn’t freak out over Markie’s last vouch for freedom; she even kept her mouth shut whilst Serena earned a pittance slaving away on the movie set. Not that Tabitha earned a whole lot more in her job as a copywriter but at least she got paid what she was worth. For her the formula was simple: fifty dollars an hour meant two hundred bucks for four hours, three hundred for six and so on. Not work a frigging fifteen hundred hours and get paid only for bloody eight like Serena was doing.
Though who was Tabitha to complain; at least Serena loved her work - she sure as hell didn’t. Sure there were worse ways to earn your money: garbage collecting, kindergarten teaching, and cleaning to name just a few but Tabitha’s heart definitely wasn’t in her job anymore. Had it ever been? It was just a career she had fallen into after getting a degree in communications, after doing well in her high school English classes. Writing was something she simply hated doing less than she hated doing other things.
Tabitha didn’t know how much longer she could last at it, this freelancing and writing boring press releases for companies as exciting as law firms and real estate agencies. In an ideal world, she would be a housewife working on The Great American Novel. Her ideas would be absolutely flowing, she’d sit at the computer after bidding her husband farewell and these ideas would fall like raindrops on cold winter’s day. Tabitha would have two children: one boy and one girl and the boy would be called Saxon. Once grown up he’d take care of his baby sister Serenity and introduce her to all his good-looking friends and both of them would be proud of her famous mama, a filthy rich novelist, but not nearly as much as her husband Blank.
Tabitha didn’t have a name for him yet. Whenever she tried to envisage the family portraits, the stupid face of Rick just kept popping up like pogo stick. Pick me, pick me, it seemed to be saying, which was funny because she couldn’t pick him even if she wanted to.
Rick had run away from her at the launch party, remember? As if Tabitha were literally a freak of nature, he’d taken one look at her, turned around and toppled over a petite gorgeous woman. Serena had made some excuse about how he was just trying to be gentlemanly, carrying the woman to the couch and making sure she didn’t go without food, drink or conversation for the entire night but Tabitha knew better. Christ sakes the g
irl was her complete opposite: blonde, curvy and small! She made Tabitha want to go out and eat McDonalds every night just to add some meat to her bones.
Unfortunately when she did try just that (quite earnestly too), Tabitha learnt the awful truth: small and curvy was one thing, tall and curvy was another, some might even call it fat. Even now, almost two years later, she still carried around with her a tiny potbelly to mark her dip and induction into the world of dieting. Of course since then she’d also come to terms with the fact she was a natural beanpole. No more trying to be a Pamela when one is really a Giselle.
It was such a shame Rick wasn’t interested because to Tabitha, he was everything she was looking for. He was tall, just like her, but in a big strong cuddly way. He also had black hair and bluish eyes which was a bit scary because if they got together, they’d have the lookalike brother/sister thing going on. But that was the point wasn’t it? Birds of a feather flock together? From the way he took care of Miss Blondie that night, it looked as if attentive, funny and good-hearted could also be added to Rick’s character trait list. In sum: her kind of guy.
Since the company’s launch two years ago, Tabitha had bumped into Rick only another six and a half times. Those meetings took place either when Serena needed to drop by the Zoo with Tabitha (which counted for two of the occasions) or when Rick dropped by Serena and Markie’s place and Tabitha also happened to be there (the other four). The half-time she usually didn’t care to mention took place in the supermarket, where Rick was fiddling about in the cheese section and all she needed was a pack of cigarettes. Ah but a man who loves cheese is a man indeed!
If truth be known, from the way Rick behaved on every one of those occasions Tabitha had reason to suspect he also cared. Okay so forget the first stupid night but all the other times…She felt really stupid trying to explain it given that the signs were so petty: an accidental brushing of the hand, fleeting looks that weren’t so fleeting, the interest in her boring writing career…the signs were there nonetheless. If only… if only he and she were cast off on a desert island then it would be easy for their fate to eventuate.
One would think that as Markie’s best bud, Rick would’ve been over at Serena’s place all the time. You would think that right? But no, he never was. It got to the point where Tabitha became as annoying as a mosquito on a hot sticky summer night (which Markie wanted to kill with a fly squatter) and after a year ‘s worth of constant surprise visits (always dressed in the latest high street fashion) Tabitha fully understood the terms ‘if looks could kill’ and ‘overstaying your welcome.’
Now Tabitha was in panic mode. This break-up between Serena and Markie was not a good thing. If they broke up permanently what hope in hell did she have in ever getting together with Rick? At least when they were a couple, she stood a tiny chance. One per cent had to be better than none.
“I’ll make sure Markie doesn’t screw it up then,” Tabitha decided. “I’ll make sure he comes running back into Serena’s arms.”
She lay back on her bed and walked her feet up the slanted wall, towards the skylight sprinkled with stars, thinking, dreaming. It didn’t take long before she had devised a plan.
After her fight with Tabitha, Serena had a dreadful sleep. She had nightmares about being lost in an obviously haunted castle and no matter which path she took it was always a dead end. No amount of running or silent screams seemed to do Serena any good; she was stranded in a “Flowers in the Attic” type maze, with nothing but a thick stench of isolation and panic to keep her company. Eventually when she had the good sense to bite her tongue for real (a tip for snapping out of dreamland) her nightdress was filthy and soaked in sweat.
What in the world did that crazy dream mean? Despite having an aversion to over-analysis, Serena was always keen to decipher her dreams. She believed fervently they held the key to her unconscious. Like when she dreamt of her teeth falling out, Serena agreed it had to do with some truth she was unable to swallow (a boss she hated in one instance and a deceitful friend another time). Now it was a different scenario, running but going absolutely nowhere, feeling lost and confused and deep down betrayed. During her morning scrutiny, she tossed and turned until the obvious finally dawned on her. Of course! Once she removed the lurking monsters and spider webs, the feelings she had in that dream pretty much paralleled how she felt in everyday life. Ever since Markie left…
Oh gosh it’s true, Serena cried, burying her head back into the blankets. She was hovering on the cliff edge of a major depression. She might think she was all fine and dandy, that it was very new millennium, being able to sleep with other men, but the truth was her relationship was on the line here. If she didn’t find an ex-one-night-stand to sleep with soon, Serena would definitely be unable to live with herself. Worse still she wouldn’t be able to function normally around Markie, the sex stud extraordinaire. She was sure he was having no problems whatsoever finding sexy young things to take to bed.
Uh oh, I wasn’t supposed to think that. Serena winced as if struck by Mike Tyson. She had promised herself she wouldn’t go there. No picturing Markie naked, no imagining himself tied up with another woman. The thought of it made her feel as if stuck on a whirling Pirate Ship ride, with extra time spent hanging upside down. Any second now and her heavy head would detach itself completely and release its sick.
Serena had to break out of this mood. She simply had to. She wasn’t usually the ruminating type. Nor did she get off on jealously; far better to accept the inevitable than to cry over it. For God’s sake, this was only the first week! If anything it was going to get worse, a lot worse, before it ever got better. Her problem was not so much that she missed Markie (though she did, it hurt like hell how much she did) but that there wasn’t anyone yet to replace him. As a sex partner that is, not as a life partner. She was stuck in that limbo land between loves, with no one new yet to adore, caress or at the very least jump into bed with. Instead her mind kept flicking back to the last experiences she had had – with Markie of course, going for it on the living room couch. By Lord that was good…
Serena decided she simply had to find someone soon or who knew what could happen? Two possible scenarios popped into mind: one where she was so depressed she accidentally overdosed on a few too many ecstasy pills. The other involved an animal horniness taking over Serena’s body and forcing her out onto the streets where she gave it to anyone for free.
“You know what, if I don’t find someone soon, the latter might just happen,” Serena said to herself. She was never a self serve girl; she needed someone else to do the job for her. As she thought this, a picture of Jasper fell into her mind. Jasper, boy number eleven, and sweet artiste slash heavy rock aficionado: he was always good with helping serve it.
Out of all of her one-night stands, he was the only one Serena could call a friend. And right now a friend in need was a friend indeed.
Dear Jasper was the friend Serena should never have slept with.
They met in college, when both enrolled in an extra-credit Art History course. At the time Serena was rather bemused by her wobbly Bachelor of Arts degree. Two years into it, she still hadn’t decided her major; psychology, philosophy, she’d tried it all and nothing called her name. So needless to say, it was Fate when she found herself sitting next to this blond God in the lecture theatre.
Unlike most twenty one year olds Jasper knew what he wanted out of life. It was to be an artist: a famous artist, who’d spend long fabulous days painting naked landscapes from his studio in Bermuda. Whenever he spoke of this dream – the mountainside, the sun and the sea, his eyes would light up as if flash beams. Sure he was just a baby at the time - about to finish his Visual Arts degree, but all who crossed his path knew Jasper was destined for great things.
Serena had wanted to be a part of it. He made her, along with every other girl, want to go off and become a sculptor or painter too, even if in possession of zero artistic talent. Tall with dirt blonde chin length hair he was a splitting image of the g
uy in Bon Jovi’s “Always” film clip –funnily enough not the artist but the one who cheats on his love. If she had only three words to describe Jasper, Serena would’ve picked: idealistic, sensitive and unreal.
But he – gulp-wasn’t interested. He was the first boy who actually excited Serena beyond belief and he wanted to be just friends. Jasper never said this in so many words but the fact he candidly spoke of other women he’d painted naked served to drive the point home. For about half a year, Serena convinced herself that a friendship was good enough, though honestly it often made her feel sick to her stomach. They say popping out a baby is painful, but a person doesn’t know real pain until they’ve loved someone they couldn’t have.
Having casual coffees together, speaking casually on the phone, studying nonchalantly side by side in the library: all of this was a tremendous feat for Serena. For better or worse, Jasper treated her like one of the boys. He shared with her art critiques she didn’t give a crap about, theories on life which went over her head and also proffered advice on her lackluster (or was it invisible?) career path. He told Serena if theatre and film were what she was interested in, she should go for it because:
a) Life is short and death is long
b) You only get once chance at it; there are no dress rehearsals and
c) All your dreams, however crazy, are worth fighting for.
Unfortunately it was these very axioms that kept Serena clinging on. Whenever Tabitha made a joke that Jasper was asexual, she was inclined to believe her because believing meant hope. As far as Serena was concerned, it was only a matter of time before she got him. She had no other competition; he wasn’t a Casanova, despite his breathtaking good looks. He didn’t take advantage of all the lovelorn that were falling at his feet. Above all Jasper was a decent guy and as such, Serena’s soul mate.
The Numbers Game Page 7
