Under My Skin
Page 36
“Thanks, I'm good,” she said innocently, selecting a top from the rack and then walking back past me into the cubicle we'd been in before. She pulled me back inside and locked the door behind us.
I leant against the cubicle wall, my mouth still open. “I can't believe you did that,” I said, still shocked. “Who the hell does that?”
“I do, and see how no one cared?” she asked me, and pulled the top on over her head. It was another V-neck t-shirt that clearly showed the curves over her breasts. “There,” she said, turning around to present it to me. “This is more like it. And, actually, I can still be really nice when I wear this, I promise. I don’t automatically need to blow everyone just because you can see my cleavage.”
I sighed at her.
She watched me for a moment. “Like, okay. I get how with the whole trans stuff you really don't like how you look or your boobs and—”
“It doesn't have anything to do with me,” I interrupted her. “People feel uncomfortable when they look at you dressed like that.”
“Why?” she asked like it was the craziest comment ever, and looked down her front.
Because you're fucking gorgeous, Bree, I thought, a little shocked that was what had come to mind. You're fucking gorgeous. But there's more to you than those 'boobs' you're so proud of and no one would ever fucking know it with the rate you go around presenting yourself like this.
“You're actually the first person who's said that,” she told me, really confusing me for a second. Had I said that aloud...? “So you don't like the t-shirt, then?” She turned back to the mirror to have another look. “I don't know. I mean, I don't wear red that often, but I kind of like it anyway?”
I shook my head. I gave up, seriously. What the hell do you do with someone like Bree? “You drive me fucking crazy,” I told her. “Okay, I'll get you the t-shirt.”
She turned back towards me. “Really?” she sounded genuinely surprised. “But look how much of my boobs you can see!” She showed me, and I looked. As if seeing that much cleavage on her didn’t already make me uncomfortable, those tight jeans hugged her hips and her thighs and when she went to take them off she had to wriggle them down her legs. The rest of her jiggled, too. I looked away and told myself off, but when the t-shirt went over her head I couldn’t help but glance at her body in the reflection again. She was leaning forward to get her school uniform off the floor and that bra really needed to be replaced with one that was fit for service. Or maybe it didn’t. Fuck, those were much bigger than Gemma’s, and Bree was hardly more than half Gemma’s age. Fuck.
When she was all dressed and we went to pay at the register, I was still in a bit of a daze. “Sorry,” I said quietly to the clerk while Bree was looking through some of the scarves in a bucket near the counter.
The clerk gave me a secret smile, and then made a surreptitious gesture to her neck. I didn't understand what she meant at first, until I realised she meant my neck. I looked down.
I was still wearing Bree's school tie over my dress.
I hurriedly pulled it off, and I can only imagine the deep shade of red my face turned. I was so red that Bree, who hadn't even seen the exchange, laughed at me when I gave her tie back to her.
“You're definitely going to be the death of me,” I told her on the way of the store, and then put my head in my hands again as I remembered Bree walking out in her bra. “Fuck! God knows what she thought we were doing in there!”
Bree laughed. “Oh my god, your life is ruined, they think you’re a lesbian,” she said dramatically, fixing her tie. Then she completely changed the subject. “So, do you want to get something else to eat? I could kind of go one of those milkshake-juice things they put fruit in.”
I got her one, and she walked me back to work, hanging lazily off my arm and appearing very content. “Does this mean you're not going to get on my case about what I wear anymore?” she asked.
I exhaled audibly and was about to reply when I felt her stiffen against me. I looked down; her eyes were fixed on a group of men in suits coming out of Frost. She relaxed as soon as they walked out into the evening sun, though, turning back to me and saying, “Or did you just, like, give up for today?”
“With you, Bree? I just give up in general.” As we crossed the road I looked from her to the men who’d just come out of Frost; she didn’t seem very interested in them now, though. I wondered who she thought they were. She probably wouldn’t tell me, so I didn’t ask. “Are you staying over tonight?”
She scrunched up her nose as we stopped out the front of the building. “Nah, I have to go home tonight, but Mum’s working Thursday and Friday this week. Can I stay then?”
“Sure,” I told her, glancing over her head towards where the men had gone. “Are you… safe to get home tonight?”
“Oh my god, Min,” she said. “It’s not like as soon as you turn your back every guy in Sydney is going to try and get in my pants…” She gestured around us with the fat straw still in the corner of her mouth. “The sun is still out.”
That didn't stop you from being worried about those men you thought you recognised, Bree. “Okay,” I was all I told her. I gave her back her schoolbag. “Oh,” I said. “Did you want me to open the present now, or...?”
She stood up straight. “Oh!” she said, immediately brightening. “Oh, yeah!” She bounced up and down in front of me in that treacherously unsupportive bra as I took the present-thing out of my handbag and turned it over in my hands. “Go on! I spent all yesterday making it!”
I wasn't sure what I expected. With Bree, it could have been anything. I unwrapped it while she watched me intently, worrying that I was going to hate it and I'd need to pretend it was great.
What was actually inside was a second-hand 4GB USB, and it was wrapped in a print out. I unfolded the paper while Bree writhed with excitement. It was several long lists, and as I reviewed them, I realised they were all playlists. One of them was called 'happy', another was 'angry' and there were several more. The last one was 'my favourites :) :) :)'.
While I was reading it, Bree couldn't wait any longer. “When you were painting on Saturday you said you listened to stuff while you do it, so I was thinking when you were feeling like shit on Saturday night that I'd download you some really happy songs that you could listen to and feel better,” she said. “But then I got a bit carried away because sometimes when you're not feeling great, happy songs are like the worst thing you can listen to, you know? So I thought of all the shit emotions you could be feeling and found songs to go with those feelings.” She stood on her tip-toes and pointed to the last list. “And just in case you were interested, those are all my favourites. I also just put a little text file in there explaining why I love them so much. You don't need to read it. But just in case you were wondering.” When she finished explaining, she looked up at me expectantly with those big eyes. It was gorgeous.
“Wow,” I said. There were easily a hundred songs on there. It must have taken her hours.
She could barely contain herself. “Do you like it?”
“No.” I concealed a smile.
She shoved me. “Stop it!” she said, actually sounding really worried. “It totally stresses me out when you do that!”
I dropped the poker-face. “Well, what do you think?” I asked her, and released the smile. “Thanks, Bree. I will actually be able to use it, I think. I'm a bit sick of my old playlists.”
Her face lit up. “Really?” she asked looking absolutely delighted. Before she spoke again, though, her smile wavered for a moment. “Because, like, I know things kind of suck for you right now. And it's just awful knowing you're at home feeling like shit and there's nothing I can do about it. So I thought I'd make you this, and when everything sucks you can listen to it, and it's good on two levels, because you're listening to music that is just right for how you feel,” she said, and then paused. “And also because you know that somewhere, there's someone who made it for you and just wants you to be happy.”
She beamed at me, but it didn't last. “I'd better get going, I guess,” she said, and slung her schoolbag over her shoulder. “Thanks for the t-shirt, and I'm sorry I like getting my boobs out.”
A couple of people gave us really strange looks as they walked past. “It's okay,” I said to Bree, trying to ignore everyone else. “I'll get used to it. Take care.”
After she'd gone it was still quite early, so I went back upstairs to keep working because we only had two weeks left before pitch. It was actually scary to think about. Fortunately, half my team were still up there working as well, including Sarah who accosted me at the vending machine. “How's Schoolgirl?” she asked, and then wagged her eyebrows at me over the can as she took a sip.
“How long have you got?” I asked her, torn between smiling and groaning.
I had sat down at my computer and spent half an hour or so trying to focus when my phone buzzed on the table beside me. I checked it, knowing who it was going to be. “i uploaded something to facebook for u.........”
I grimaced, immediately imagining some awful appreciation photo of her posing like her other selfies in the red t-shirt. When I opened the app and searched for her, though, she'd just taken a mirror shot of herself in the t-shirt. Of course her cleavage was very visible and she wasn't trying to hide it, but she wasn't bearing it at the camera to be 'busted on' or whatever she'd said before about those poses. That description still made me cringe. This photo didn’t, though. She just looked sweet and pretty, exactly like she was. It was the nicest photo I’d seen of her.
I was about to comment to that effect on it when I noticed her album looked a bit different. I stopped, and then I tapped through to her mobile uploads. Aside from the mirror shot, there were hardly any selfies at all. She'd deleted all of them, and all that was left was tame photos of her and her family, her and some of her school friends and other photos of food and animals. Her latest status update cryptically read, 'now u can stop worrying so much......... ;) ;)'
I must have been gaping at my phone, because Sarah said, “You right there, Min?” from the other side of the room.
I closed my jaw. “You remember Bree's Facebook albums?” I asked her.
She gave me a look like are you serious? “What's she done this time?”
I wheeled my chair over to her and showed her my phone. I don't know what Sarah had been expecting, but I watched her face cycle from concern to confusion to — she looked at me — amusement. “Gee, I wonder who she did that for,” she said, smirking at me and then getting back to her computer. “It's a complete mystery.”
I'd gone back to my own desk to grin like an idiot at all my emails when my phone went off again. I assumed it was Bree, so I unlocked it. It wasn't, though, it was just Henry. “There's a new Thai place that's opened up behind the Regent,” it said. “I was thinking we could try it out on Thursday or Friday? Or maybe early next week before I fly back to the Motherland?”
‘The Motherland’, I chuckled at that. Both our mothers were there, and my mum did talk about South Korea like it was the cradle of all culture and civilisation.
I didn’t grin for long, though. He’d be visiting Mum while he was over there, and I could only imagine what kind of stuff she’d be saying to him. He never seemed to mind her, but that was completely irrelevant because I minded her. And I felt really fucking uncomfortable about what they’d talk about without me there.
I didn’t even know what to talk about with him at the moment. It had been so weird last night.
Fuck. I frowned down at the message, reading it again. Thursday or Friday, I thought. Bree will be visiting then. Not that it would necessarily be a problem for her to just chill in my apartment while I was out with him, but he’d probably want to come back afterwards and stay the night and then I’d have to stay in my women’s clothes and Bree would just be there feeling awkward. On the other hand, it would also give me a fantastic excuse to not have sex with him. Poor Bree, though. Did I really want to put her in an awkward situation just to avoid having sex with my boyfriend?
I sighed. I couldn’t deal with this now. We had—I counted—17 days left before that pitch to Sasha Burov, and I’d lose four of those to Easter. I couldn’t really expect my team to not spend Easter with their families, even if I wasn’t planning to myself. Additionally, I had no idea when we’d end up pitching to any of those leads in Vladivostok, maybe even sooner than that.
I really needed to get this project across the line and just not worry about crap until after we had signatures. I could take time off after the pitch if I needed to. Before it, I needed to just focus on work.
I locked my phone and put it inside my handbag. I could worry about what I was going to say to Henry after I’d finished with all the stuff I still had to get done tonight.
SEVENTEEN
Bree actually made it all the way to Thursday without showing up outside my work. On Thursday morning, though, she sent me about five texts in a row while I was in a meeting with my team. I had to turn vibrate off, because the four of them were just staring at my phone on the table in front of me and not paying any attention to anything coming out of my mouth.
“Maybe you should get that,” Ian suggested.
“Oh, she's already got that,” Sarah said innocently, still working on her breakfast muffin. Ian gave her a weird look.
I put the phone in my pocket and kept talking, ignoring both of them. “...So I don't really think using the rainforests or the beaches really works, I was thinking more sort of central Australia, but that's more orange than anything else. I could paint it in pinks, of course. Or a sunset or something. Sunsets over Uluru are a bit cliché, though.”
“Still quite iconic,” Carlos said. He was tapping his pen against his lip while he held one of the printouts up. “And icons are generally what sells Australia, so if we're trying to use Australia to sell diamonds...”
“'Mined from the heart of a wild country',” Ian tested, and then made a face. “Ugh, I hate myself. Why do I do this? It might work, though. ”
“Digging up Uluru might not be the image we're looking for,” I pointed out after I'd thought more about it. “In fact, if we put the image of Uluru with anything using the word 'mine', we'll probably be on the front page of the The Sydney Morning Herald with 'Frost Plans to Blow Up World Starting with Sacred Aboriginal Landmark'.”
“Isn't that free publicity, though?” John asked, completely oblivious as always.
We all winced. Sarah was the one that answered. “Particular campaigns suit that style of marketing. Diamonds don't. Reputation is basically how we get our sales.”
For a minute or two the team all sat there, frowning at the Australian landscape printouts in the centre of the table. Eventually, I sighed. “Well, let's move on to Vladivostok. We can think about this in our own time.”
After we'd all fried our brains trying to figure out what we wanted to do with the two leads in Eastern Russia who were taking ages to get back to us, we broke for morning tea and so I could see what Bree's drama was.
To be honest, I had been a little worried something had happened. So, when I opened the string of messages that started with a keyboard smash, ended in “sorry i just had to do that im good now :3” and had “yeesssss its thurrsdaaayyyy!!!!” somewhere in the middle, I slapped my forehead.
I also couldn't resist messing with her, so I texted her back, “Actually I decided to go out with Henry this evening, and he'll probably stay all weekend. I might see you next week. Or maybe after Easter.” I waited for a couple of minutes, and then when I didn't get a reply, I added, “Bree, I'm messing with you. See you tonight ;)”
This time, my phone buzzed again. “i hate u so much...............”
I was grinning to myself and trying to figure out how to reply, when I noticed Sarah leaning against th
e door with her second coffee for the day, watching me. I felt a bit self-conscious, especially when she smirked and casually wandered over. I was pretty sure it was obvious who I'd been messaging.
“What are you doing tomorrow night?” she asked.
I glanced up; there was no one within earshot. “Not getting drunk and making out with your friends.”
She laughed. “Rats! And I bought popcorn especially.” Casting a quick look over her shoulder as well, she corrected herself. “Anyway, I said that wrong. I meant to say, 'I know what you're doing tomorrow night. You're coming to movie night at my place'. There will be a few people. Not that many.” When I looked sceptical, she pointed a finger at me. “Yes. No excuses. I've had a bad week, you're coming to my thing.”
Oh, was that how it was? While I was standing there with my eyebrows up, I remembered some of the stuff that had been going on for her during the week and felt a bit guilty. She had had a rough week, especially with the grief her other team had been giving her. That didn't override my discomfort about coming to any more of her social events, though. Something else occurred to me. “Wait, will Gemma be there?”
There was a glint in Sarah's eye that I was a bit concerned about. “Possibly.”
“That's a yes, isn't it?” I said, and that made up my mind. I couldn't really be around her again, it would be too awkward. “Sorry, Sarah, I've got too much going on. I'd rather just stay home with Bree and relax tomorrow night.”
“Yeah, that's not going to happen,” she said easily, tipping the last of her coffee down her throat and chucking the cup in my bin. She sounded pretty confident, it was suspicious.
“Oh? Why not?”
She gave me a very mischievous grin as she turned to go back to her own desk. “Because Schoolgirl's coming to my thing.”
I stared at her for a second. No way.
Closing my jaw, I followed her to her desk. “You invited her?”
“On Facebook,” she said as she sat down and hit the space bar a few times to wake up her laptop. “And she accepted. So, I guess you can stay home if you want to, but I'm sure she has a lot to say about you...”