by Dale, Lindy
Emily is still. Then she moves toward me and I think the maybe she’s going to relent and hug me but when she speaks her voice is filled with a type of sorrow I’ve never heard before. Not from her. She does miss me, she does, but something is stopping her from accepting my apology.
“You’re here with them,” she says, nodding toward the boys. “How can you be here with them?”
“I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Apart from sleeping with Nicholas to get a better grade. How can you parade them around like this? It’s disgusting.”
Geez, when is she going to move on from that?
“I’m not parading, Emily. I’m here with my boyfriends, just like you are.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Yes but I only have one.”
I ignore the scathing comment. “I never slept with Nicholas to get a good grade, either. I’m sorry I lied about Joel being gay but I did. There’s nothing I can do to change the fact I wanted him for myself and I lied to you to get what I wanted. Please forgive me Emily. Please. I miss you.”
“I can’t,” she says as she looks furtively about the room.
What’s happened to the Emily I love, the one who was so out there and insistent about me trying new things? Yes, she had morals but the old Emily would never have been so judgemental. There’s something else happening here and I don’t think it’s because I lied to her. Not anymore.
“But why?” I ask. “Why can’t we move on? I’d never intentionally hurt you; you know I wouldn’t. You’re my best friend. We’re the two girls against the world. Remember?”
This seems to strike a chord. Emily’s face softens but only slightly. “Look. I know that. And I realise I acted hastily with the whole moving out thing but you hurt me.” She looks sad now. She wants to forgive me. She’s going to forgive me. “I forgive you for that.”
Thank God!
“Can we be friends again? I don’t want to move back in but I miss you Em.”
“I don’t think so.” She looks about again. She’s so jumpy. “You should know Mason is talking to the dean.”
“So?”
“About you—”
Is it possible that I can be so dim I have no clue what Emily’s talking about?
“—He’s telling everything about how you, Nicholas and Joel knew each other before the internship, how you slept together and they gave you a good grade in return. I can’t be involved in your shit, Sadie. I don’t want my name mixed up in this. Alex means the world to me. If he found out I knew about it and did nothing he’d dump me for sure. I don’t want to lose him. I love him so much.”
He’d dump her over something so pathetic? Maybe there’s more to Alex than Emily is telling me.
“But it’s nothing to do with you, Em. It’s about me and Nicholas and Joel.”
“Yes, but I knew about it. I said nothing. Look, I have to go. Alex is waiting.” She gestures to the other side of the room where a very grim Alex is eyeing us.
“Can I text you? Can we at least meet for coffee?”
“I don’t think so. Not yet. Alex is pretty straight down the line, Sadie. He’s formed and opinion and he doesn’t want me to hang with you. He says you’re bad news.”
As Emily turns and weaves her way through the crowd, I think about what she’s said. She’s changed. The girl who so desperately wanted a husband has dampened her spirit to suit the way she believes Alex wants her to behave. I watch her go wondering what’s going to happen, where this is all going to end. Then I notice Mason — whose nose looks like a balloon, by the way — and his parents. As Emily predicted, they’re deep in conversation with the dean of my faculty. There’s finger pointing and hand waving. They’re looking in my direction but the looks are not ‘we’re-so-proud-of-you’ looks. They’re more like ‘I’m-gonna-take-you-down-bitch’ looks.
Oh. No.
This is the end of life, as we know it.
If Mason tells his version of this story, I’ll be ruined. I’ll never get a job. There’s a possibility I could even be stripped of my degree for misconduct. Nicholas and Joel will be ruined as well. Nobody will deal with men who would take advantage of a woman like they supposedly have me, because I know what picture Mason will paint of them and it won’t be a positive one. Surely, he wouldn’t be so spiteful because I got a placement at Hardwick & Lawson and he didn’t? Surely.
The dean glances in my direction. A frown forms on his face. I’m going to spew. I know I am. Or I might faint — a viable alternative to get me out of here. I search the room, my eyes darting like balls in a pinball machine. I have to get out of here now. Where is Nicholas? Where is Joel? Why aren’t they saving me?
My head begins to swim. I grip hold of a table beside me, trying to suck in air that refuses to come. My blood drains to my feet. And I’m hot, so hot. Or clammy. Yes I’m clammy. My stomach is clenching as if the contents are about to be released.
Shit. Oh shit, shit, shit.
I shove my way through the crowd and into the toilets.
The ensuing retching seems to last forever until finally, when I feel I can vomit no more, I lean back against the open toilet door, my head pounding. I sit there for a while attempting to put my thoughts into some sort of order but I can’t process. I can’t keep one idea in my head, let alone formulate a plan of action to tackle this.
So I cry. Well, weep.
Long, silent tears slide down my face and drip onto my graduation gown. Ragged sobs build in my throat and I want to stifle them but I can’t. My entire body aches from the shuddering sobs. Girls come and go. They leave with frowns on their faces but not one of them offers to help. They probably know the shit is about to hit the fan and are giving me a wide berth. I bang my palm onto the concrete floor and cry some more. How could Mason do this? Why would he do this to me?
“Sadie?”
It’s Nicholas. Concern is filling his face. He doesn’t seem to register that he’s in the ladies toilet and there are at least a dozen girls in here. They’re not staring in bemusement now though, they’re ogling.
“Come on.” He bends down and in one scoop has me safely in his arms.
“I… I…”
“Shhh.” He kisses my hair and cuddles me to him. His big strong body is my protective shield. “Let’s get you home.”
“The dean…”
“We’ll sort it out on Monday. They can’t do anything without getting your side of the story first and as far as I can see, it’s the three of us against one here. I spoke to Emily. She’s doesn’t want to get involved. She’s keeping out of it.”
Because of Alex. She’s on his side now.
I’m exhausted, so I close my eyes and let Nicholas carry me to the car. I hear him speaking quietly to people as we leave. They seem concerned but he tells them I’m overcome from the excitement of the day and that I hadn’t been feeling well before the ceremony. Must be some twenty-four hour thing. He makes me sound so helpless and needy and I don’t even care. I just want to be at home. Alone with the two men who love me.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t think. For the remainder of the weekend, I pace the floor of the living room until I swear I’ve worn a track around the kitchen and behind the table. I must be making the boys dizzy with my constant pacing but it seems the only thing that soothes me other than standing for hours staring out the window. And that makes my legs ache after a while. I curl up in a ball a lot too, but I don’t cry. I’m too worried to cry. I’m petrified of what this means for me. For us.
The boys try to placate me as best they can, but kind words and shoulder rubs can only go so far. Sex is definitely out of the question, no matter what bow Joel tries to wrap it up in, it’s not a good way to relieve tension. I mean, as if I could think of sex at a time like this? It was sex that got me into this predicament in the first place.
By Monday morning when the phone call comes, I’m a nervous wreck both physically and emotionally. There are shadows under my
eyes that haven’t been there since Mum passed and my appetite would make a bird’s look enormous. I know I’ve lost weight in the last three days. My jeans are hanging from my hips.
Staring at the phone as it rings I don’t recognise the number but I know it’s the university. Who else would be ringing me on a Monday morning? Certainly not anyone to offer me a job. The fact that I’m a trollop who’s slept her way to the top would be all over town by now.
I listen to the woman on the other end of the line. She’s efficient sounding and it only takes a minute for her to tee up the appointment later in the day. The dean wants this sorted ASAP. He’s meant to be going on holiday to Hawaii tomorrow, lucky bastard. I wish I were in Hawaii right now. Jumping into a volcano without a parachute would be preferable to this.
*****
My appointment is at two. By the time I reach the dean’s office I know Nicholas and Joel have already completed their grilling. They’re waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. They look confident, yet despite that fact, I’m crapping myself.
“Don’t worry, Sadie. Everything’s gonna be fine,” Nicholas reassures me. He wraps an arm about my shoulder and looks down into my eyes. I feel the tension abate a little. I hope he’s right. If he’s not we’re up the creek filled with poo.
“What did you tell him?”
“The truth — we knew each other six months before the internship and even though I was attracted to you the entire time, we never slept together during your prac. I stressed that you were at the firm to learn, no matter what Mason might have said.”
Okay, so it’s the Nicholas version of truth. I’m relieved he didn’t mention the sex on the desk thing or the sleeping with Joel at the same time thing.
“Jill vouched for our professionalism on all sides,” Nicholas adds. “She spoke to the dean on the phone this morning. She said this was a load of ridiculous rumours started by a spoilt boy who was bitter because he didn’t get what he wanted. You should have heard her. She told the dean he only had to look at you and me to see how professional and moral we are.”
That might have been taking it a little too far but I’m glad Jill feels that way.
“I told the dean a thing or two about that fucker Mason, too,” Joel says. “That little weasel has to be accountable for the trouble he’s stirred up.”
Somehow, I feel better knowing this. “Right.” I take the biggest breath possible. “Wish me luck.”
I start up the stairs.
*****
The dean is stern — I couldn’t expect him not to take the allegations seriously — but he appears to accept what I say as true. My academic record and behaviour over the last four years are taken into account as well. I don’t know how he knows anything about me personally, but he does, and I’m not about to argue when he tells me he sees no grounds to change my grades, that I’ve always been an exemplary student and of the highest moral standard. I even suppress a small titter at this. If he could have seen the three of us the other night, there’s not a hope in hell he’d be saying I’ve good morals. They disappeared into the surf the day I met Nicholas and Joel.
At the end of the interview the dean asks if the ‘thing’ between Nicholas and I is serious. I tell him it is. Then, he smiles and wishes us luck, saying he’s always liked Nicholas and admired his talent as an architect.
Um, preaching to the converted on that front.
It’s an hour later when I emerge from his office and though I feel drained and exhausted, I’m buoyant too. The affair is out in the open, well half of it is. I’m free to go where I want with Nicholas and nobody can say a thing. And if they do… well, I don’t actually give a toss. The only problem is — and this is a big blonde haired one — nobody knows about Joel. And Joel might give off the air of casual nonchalance but I don’t think he’s going to be happy about this turn of events, because deep down Joel is a little boy lost and he’s expecting me to save him.
CHAPTER NINE
“Now that everything’s sorted, Joel and I want to give you your graduation present. The weekend wasn’t the right time,” Nicholas says.
You can say that again.
We’re sitting on the sofa that evening. We’ve just shared a wonderful dinner cooked by Joel with some help from me. Yes, in this new life of mine I’m mastering the kitchen as well as the bedroom. If you can call mixing mayonnaise to make a dressing ‘mastering’. I’m not going to be a contender on that kitchen show any time soon. If ever.
“What is it?” I’m super excited now.
Nicolas hands me a red plastic wallet. “Open it.”
I stare at the plastic. The anticipation is building because I know what’s inside. Well, I’m pretty sure I do. “It’s a plane ticket, isn’t it?”
I’m jiggling on the couch now. My feet are pounding the floor because the nervous energy zooming through my body needs release somewhere; my heart is pounding with adrenalin.
“Just open it.”
So I do. And that’s when the leaping begins. Well, after I double check and triple check that what I’m holding is an expense paid trip to Spain and Italy and pick myself up from the floor where I’ve slipped over doing my little happy dance. Socked feet and shiny timber floors are not a recipe for stability under any circumstances.
I let out a squeal of delight. I bounce onto the boys alternately hugging then kissing them. I think I might be about to pee myself I’m so utterly pumped.
“Settle, baby,” Nicholas says at last. His grin is wide as he rests his hands on my shoulders trying to calm me down. He’s happy that I’m happy. He’s basking in it.
“I can’t! This is so freaking awesome. Do you realise how awesome this is?”
“Sort of.” His smile grows wider. “That was the idea.”
I flip through the itinerary and it’s then I notice Nicholas and Joel’s names alongside mine. “You’re coming too?”
Joel says, “Nick and I discussed it. We reckon the blokes can survive a fortnight without us. Jill’s more than capable of keeping them in line.”
Oh my god, this is even more awesome. This is literally the king of awesome. Nicholas, Joel and I are going on a freaking holiday. My dream holiday.
“But you don’t do holidays. You told me that. Why now?” I look from one to the other for clarification.
“Well for one, we’ve worked pretty hard over the past five years, so we deserve it.”
“And for two,” Joel adds, “The other side of the world might be the only place we can ever be together in public the way we want to be. It’s only a short trip. We know you’ll be starting your job in the new year. You need to get prepared for that.”
I squeal again. “I wouldn’t care if it was for a week. This is the best present ever. And sharing it with you is going to make it even better.”
We spend the rest of the evening making plans of where we’re going to visit and the sites we’d like to see. The boys have never been to Italy or Spain either so we have to pack as much as we can into our weeklong stay. I’m so thankful that I put my passport application in when I thought I might be going on the study tour.
“We’ll stay in Italy for a week,” Nicholas says. “I booked us tickets for the ferry to Barcelona and we can rent a car there and travel around.”
“I really want to go to Malaga to see the Picasso Museum,” I say. “And a bullfight. We need to see a bullfight.” The smile on my face is so wide it’s starting to hurt.
“We can do anything you want.”
I love that he’s indulging me.
“There’s a lot to see in Rome itself, so I’ve arranged for us to stay right in the heart. Our hotel is across from the Trevi Fountain. We have a view of it from our balcony.”
This is awesome and super romantic. I’ve never met any guy as thoughtful and romantic as Nicholas.
“We’ll have to chuck a few coins in the fountain, make some wishes,” Joel jokes.
I wrap my arms around each of them in turn, kissing their lips. “
I don’t need to. All my wishes have come true.”
*****
The weeks before we leave for our trip are hectic. I’m glad I’m on holiday — well, except for my job prepartions and the couple of shifts I got as an usher at the local theatre — because there’s a million and one things that have to be done. Like shopping for one. And waxing. There is no way the boys are seeing me in that scuzzy old bikini from two years ago or with hairy body parts. Which is kind of silly when you stop to consider it. They see me naked every night. They probably won’t even notice if my bikini is new.
Two days before we’re due to leave I get my hair done. It takes me hours to organise my suitcase and pack for every possible eventuality but finally my new luggage — I’ve never needed luggage before — is standing in the hall with our tickets and itinerary. I know Joel will say I’m mental for being so over organised. He’ll throw a few things in a suitcase an hour before we leave or just buy new stuff. But this is the first time I’ve been anywhere on a plane. What can I say? I’m super excited. So excited, in fact, that I decide to snap a pic and send it to Emily. She’ll understand my obsession with my new black and white print luggage and the fact that I packed and re-packed it five times so I could learn how to fit it all neatly. Whether she replies or not is another matter.
I click the camera button and press send.
Emily’s reply is fast, which sort of astounds me.
She hasn’t asked me why I need it yet or where I’m going.
I’m hoping that will spark her interest. Emily has an unrequited love for business class. She longs to make it mutual but her parents rarely come to the party and she can’t afford it herself.
The replying ting is almost instant.
<??? Where the hell are you going?>
