Mine

by S. A Partridge

  The smell of pine needles is strong in the crisp wintery air. I’m so happy to be out of that house and alone with Fin. All those people were making me uncomfortable. All I wanted to do was go home.

  “Thanks for coming with me,” he says.

  “I like your music,” I tell him as we walk. “It’s really awesome. Worth being murdered over, I’d say.”

  He laughs. “They won’t do anything. Hey, guess what? Another festival signed us today. Bones told me.”

  “That’s great.” The words are like cotton wool. Will I ever be comfortable around his friends? How do I tell him about the rumours his precious Jules is spreading about me?

  “You look like your dog just died,” he says, studying me.

  I shrug. “It’s all new, that’s all. I just need to get used to it.”

  “Do my friends freak you out?”

  “Well, there are a lot of them. I’m used to being on my own; I don’t really know how to talk or act in large groups. It’s easier to just switch off. Why am I even telling you this?”

  “It takes practice to be normal in a crowd. In the beginning, I used to just kept quiet and concentrate on the music. They used to tease me for being so intense. That’s where the name Thor came from. I only came out of myself when I was performing. And you saw how angry we get. It’s rage that takes over. I eventually got over my issues, but it took a while.”

  “Well, Julia and her brother definitely hate me.”

  “They don’t, and even if they do, it’s not your fault. But at least now I hope you realise I’m not seeing anyone else. I told them all you were my girlfriend.”

  If only he knew how happy I am. I stand up on my toes and kiss him on the cheek. He responds by pulling me into him.

  When we pull apart, he grins. “Jump on my back.”

  “What?”

  “Jump on my back. I’ll give you a ride home.”

  Laughing, I leap up and wrap my arms around his neck and my legs across his chest. We make it as far as the end of the road before he’s rasping and coughing. I’m laughing so hard my sides hurt.

  “I don’t want to go home yet. I don’t want to say goodbye.”

  “Won’t your mother be worried?” he asks. She will be. But I don’t want to say so.

  He enfolds me in his arms. “I’ll see you tomorrow and every day after that.”

  I nod. “Maybe there’s a way I can sneak you in?”

  He laughs. “Kayla …”

  “Please?”

  He looks uncertain for a second then his mouth breaks into a grin. “Okay.”

  At my gate, I make a show of waving goodbye and rush to the house to open the door with my key. The lights are all off and I can hear Jerome snoring from their bedroom down the passage.

  I slip out of my shoes and put my keys down just as Lorenda appears in her pink dressing gown.

  “You’re very late, Kayla,” she says sleepily.

  “I know. I’m sorry. Go back to bed.”

  “Are you drunk?”

  “No, just tired. Fin had band practice and it went on very late.”

  She stares at me in the darkness and then slowly turns around and disappears back to bed. I go to my room, change into my pyjamas and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Eventually I hear the passage light click off.

  I message Fin to ask if he’s managed to climb the wall yet. He replies instantly.

  At the back door.

  I pad softly to the kitchen and unlock the door as quietly as possible. He looks around, but follows me in.

  “Are you sure about this?” he whispers.

  “Shh.”

  He shakes his head but I can see him trying to hold in his laughter. We shuffle to my room and I lock my door behind us. I rush to my bed and open the covers wide in invitation. He stands awkwardly for a moment, then takes off his jacket and shoes, and leaves everything else on. He slips under the covers nervously.

  I slide my fingers under his shirt. “This too.”

  He breathes heavily but does what I say. I see the dark outline of a tattoo on his side and my heart speeds up. His chest is well built. We kiss, slowly at first, then faster, deeper. I’ve never wanted someone as badly as I want him right now. But he’s holding back. I take my shirt off. He reacts by staring at me wildly, then starts putting his hands all over me. For a moment this seems to work, but he’s still not going any further. After a tug of war battle trying to get his pants off and losing, I flop down against his chest, defeated.

  “You don’t want me.”

  He lifts his arm for me to settle into the crook. “I do. I just don’t want to rush things.”

  I nod, but it’s hard to understand why he’s doing this. I keep thinking that he’s still not sure he wants to be with me, that he doesn’t want to commit.

  He lifts up my head with his pointy finger and smiles. “I can still do other things, but we have to be quiet so we don’t wake your mom.”

  I nod, feeling the butterflies swarming in my stomach. He turns on to his side and slowly, slowly, traces a line down my body with his fingers.

  Finlay

  RONDEBOSCH, SUNDAY

  I had to sneak out before dawn so Jerome and Lorenda didn’t catch me. Being away from Kayla makes me want to smash something.

  I get home to find the front door wide open. Panic seizes me. I slowly push it open and do a quick once over, checking to see if we’ve been robbed. The old man is passed out in the lounge. The TV is still there. I rush to my room: My equipment is all safe and my gig money is still in its hiding place.

  The bastard.

  I sink into bed and try to imagine I’m still with Kayla. Her soft skin. Her lips. I’ve never felt this way about a girl before. Pre-Jules, I didn’t have a girlfriend for ages. Usually I just made out with girls at clubs. Sometimes I’d go home with them, but it never turned into anything serious. My last girlfriend, Michelle, was a total psycho. She treated me like her personal handbag holder. None of them was as young as Kayla. Or as fragile. I can’t imagine anyone trying to take advantage of Michelle – she was the type of girl you chased and chased, and eventually got screwed over by. She cheated on me, so I nuclear-blasted her out of my life.

  I hate that so many people have hurt Kayla. And she’s so young. It’s not her fault she’s lonely, and a bit different, and naïve. She needs me to protect her.

  I close my eyes and try to get some sleep, at least an hour or two, before I get to see my girl again.

  I SIT ON the wall and watch Kayla skate back and forth on the cement ramp. We’re at the skate park in the city, and there are a couple of other skaters hanging around. I fish a small joint out my pocket and take a few pulls before passing it to the blond dreadlocked guy sitting on the wall next to me.

  He looks up in happy surprise. “Sweet. Cheers, bru.”

  Kayla told me she likes to skate here sometimes, but that she never talks to anyone. She started skating a year ago. I can see where she gets her sense of style. The torn jeans. Vans. Beanies. Hoodies. I watch as she curls up her body in the air and lands perfectly on her board.

  “Your girl’s good,” says Dreadlock Guy, passing back the joint. The end is wet. I wipe it on my shirt before taking a drag. “I see her around sometimes.”

  We watch as she stumbles and runs on the spot to regain her balance. Her board rolls forward halfway up the ramp, then back again.

  “Dude, sorry, I’m being rude.” He wipes his hand on his jeans and extends it for a shake. “I’m Dexter. You guys should come for a drink. We usually head out to The Bunker around five for Happy Hour.”

  I nod. “Fin. Sounds good. I’ll see if we can make a turn.”

  He grins and slides down the wall and onto his board.

  Kayla runs up a minute later, breathless, and I tell her about the invitation.

  “They want to hang out with us?”

  “With you.”

  She grins and self-consciously moves her hair out her face.

  KAY
LA SKATES UNTIL the shadows start creeping up on the buildings and the cold sinks in.

  We head down to The Bunker and walk inside. The bouncers know me, so they don’t give my clearly underage girlfriend a second glance. Still, it’s okay because there’s no way I’d take her home drunk.

  The other skaters are already there. Kayla follows me, nervously twirling her blue ends around her finger, but they greet us warmly as we approach.

  She shoots me an uncertain glance.

  “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry,” I say.

  Dexter’s girlfriend, Ayanda, a pretty girl with long, tight braids and shaved sides, takes Kayla under her wing and introduces her to everyone.

  They’re a friendly crowd, and they’ve all noticed Kayla’s skill. After a while, she’s back to her normal sarcastic feistiness.

  “So, I saw your spectacular bail today,” Kayla says to Dexter. “Seriously impressive. If I wasn’t so attached to my skin, I’d try it sometime.”

  Dexter laughs and so does everyone else. Kayla beams at me. It’s such an honestly happy smile. I would do anything in the world to keep it there, which is why I slip up and let her drink too much.

  Kayla’s a tough one when it comes to talking to new people – no wonder it’s taken this long to meet these guys properly. Problem is, now everyone wants to buy the new guys drinks. Especially yet another dreadlocked guy named Louis or whatever, who keeps insisting. He doesn’t seem to care that Kayla is an obvious lightweight.

  By the time we leave, she’s leaning on me to stay upright. We’re stumbling along when she suddenly has a queasy look, and I lead her to a wall behind the club in time for her to blow chunks against the peeling paintwork. Her folks are going to kill me.

  We stagger to an all-night garage and I force-feed her black coffee out the Nescafé dispenser to try and sober her up.

  “Fin,” she says, with one hand on the wall. “I don’t feel good.”

  “I know.” I press another cup into her hand, and she sips and hiccoughs at the same time, spilling coffee all over her jacket. I notice that it’s steaming hot and grab it out of her hands. “Ah, man. I’m sorry, baby. Come on. I have to take you home.”

  “Can’t. Too drunk.”

  Lorenda is less than impressed when she sees us. She doesn’t tell me to get lost and never come back. But she does yank Kayla away from me and slam the door in my face.

  I’m scarce around Kayla’s house for the next week.

  Kayla

  CITY CENTRE, FRIDAY

  There is a long line of people waiting outside the building to get in. I’m looking at the graffiti when Fin takes my hand and we follow the rest of the crew to the rope barrier. The bouncer checks our names on a list and we’re let in without question.

  I’ve never been inside a club before. I’m finally about to see what I’ve been missing. What normal people get up to when the sun goes down.

  We head up a flight of stairs and enter a dark room lit only by strobe lights.

  Bodies are pressed everywhere and the music thunders through giant speakers. The floor vibrates from the bass. We push through the crowd of smoky silhouettes jumping up and down, arms in the air.

  I have never felt so small and out of place. I’m wearing a red plaid shirt over black tights and my beanie. I look like a junior lumberjack. Julia is already there, glittering in a shimmery tank top and perfect eyeliner. She smirks at me and swishes her long hair, nearly slapping me in the face with it as she joins our group. Fin’s arm doesn’t leave my shoulders until we get to the entrance of the VIP and backstage area, where Brendan is already arguing with the bouncer. Then Fin starts arguing with the bouncer.

  “What’s going on?” I ask Bones, who’s closest.

  He sighs. “No plus ones tonight. Too many bands playing.”

  “Oh.” I swallow.

  Julia looks at me and rolls her eyes. “Do not think you’re sitting with us,” she says and strolls off with her friends.

  I look at Fin in terror.

  He shakes his head and wraps his arms around me. “I have to go. Get to the front or stay on the sides where I can see you. I’ll look for you.”

  I nod. “I’m a big girl. I can look after myself.”

  “Why don’t you go and find –”

  “No way,” I say, cutting him off. “I’ll be fine by myself.”

  Bones motions for him to follow. Fin does not look happy and checks back three times. When he’s gone, I turn around and face the hazy, writhing dance floor, wondering how the hell I’m supposed to get through all of that.

  I stick to the sides until I find a spot to stand quite far back from the stage. Guys leer at me and I look away quickly to avoid making eye contact. It’s too loud and there are too many people. This is a place for large groups of friends and couples and people who can dance, not for me. I watch the first band with my arms crossed, acutely aware of how pathetic I must look standing by myself. I wish I was invisible.

  But I couldn’t be more visible. Julia and her gang glare at me from a white booth that’s shining under the UV lights. They must have used fake IDs to get into the club. I know they’re talking about me. I look away, thankful it’s too dark for them to see my face.

  I should have known not to turn my back on the enemy.

  “What are you even doing here?” A sharp finger pokes me in the side. It’s Lucinda, looking completely different in all that make-up. Older. “Don’t ignore me. I asked you a question, slut.”

  “What do you want, Lucinda?” I try to move and she shoves me back against the wall.

  I can just hear the other girls laughing over the sound of the bass. Julia’s sitting in the booth, staring towards the stage, sipping a bottle of water like she’s totally unaware of me.

  “Move along, ladies.” A bouncer towers above us in his black suit.

  Lucinda springs away from me. “We’re just talking.”

  “Go talk outside.”

  I slip past him and push my way through the crowd towards the bathroom. I knew coming here was a bad idea. How long before Fin hates me too?

  Finlay

  CITY CENTRE, FRIDAY

  I keep the hood of my jacket up and walk straight to the artists’ lounge. Brendan says something behind me but his words blend with the music before I can hear them.

  I’m furious at the management for not allowing the girls backstage. The first act has only just started and it sounds like the crowd has grown since we got here. I pace around the room, hands in my pockets. I’m so on edge, the slightest movement makes me flinch.

  Fear tightens in my chest. I should have brought Kayla backstage with me anyway. Stupid. Stupid. It’s her first show. I can’t stand Kayla being alone out there. She must be freaking out.

  A hard hand slaps me on the back and I spin around, my fist rising.

  “Whoa, bru, it’s just me,” says Brendan, grabbing my wrist and pushing it back down.

  My shoulders relax. “Sorry.”

  “Why’re you so wound up? Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “You sure?” I nod, and he seems to relax too.

  Things are still strained between us.

  “Go have a spliff or something if you’re nervous. Works for me.” He slaps me on the back again like nothing weird went down between us.

  I nod, even though I’m boiling up on the inside. I’ve never had a panic attack before – is this what it feels like? This isn’t normal, whatever this is.

  We wait on the edge of the stage for an eternity. There’s a big crowd pressed against the barrier, screaming and whooping in the smoky darkness. Bones yawns like it’s no big deal. Brendan bounces on his feet nervously. I stand with my hand against the wall, looking for Kayla. Jules is up front, staring right at me.

  A sick feeling starts to grow inside me, along with a growling anger.

  Soon we’re up. Bones whistles and we follow him on to the stage. The familiar loop of our track “Backstreet bitches” starts to p
lay. Brendan tosses me the mic, which feedbacks loudly as I hold it up. But then the music takes over, like it always does. The words flow out, obscene extensions of my own soul. Brendan shouts into his own mic, the lyrics slick on his tongue. We look up and grin at each other, the old team doing our thing. We step forward together, giving our attention to the girls in front, who scream in response.

  “You’re just a backstreet bitch,” I tell them, “looking for a good time, though you never gonna be mine.”

  My eyes lock on Jules and she frowns. I start to freestyle. I can’t help it.

  Girl, you gorgeous but please, you never gonna be

  the one I come home to, the one I look up to.

  You just looking for attention,

  Hungry for affection,

  sex wit’ me ain’t never gonna fix dat.”

  Her face crumples up. I turn away and spot Kayla making throat-cutting gestures at me. But it’s too late – Jules is already forcing her way back through the crowd.

  I don’t know how I get through the rest of the set. Whenever someone so much as looks at Kayla, I want to dive off the stage and murder them. I thump my chest. Roar. Rage.

  I am Thor.

  I feel like I’ve lost my mind.

  After the last track, I jump right over the barrier and force my way through the bodies to Kayla, ignoring the hands grabbing at me.

  I pull her close, kiss her, breathe her in. “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “What?” she shouts.

  “I said, are you okay?”

  Her eyes are wide. “I can’t hear you – it’s too loud.”

  I take her by the arm and steer her to the flickering passageway that leads to the artists’ lounge. The bouncer checks me out but gets out the way after seeing my murderous expression. As soon as we’re away from the music, I push Kayla against the wall and slump my head into her shoulder like she’s made out of pillow.

  Her hand rests on my shoulder. “Are you okay?” she asks softly.

  I shake my head. “My head is going to explode.” I curl my fingers around her shirt to pull her closer.