by Alyse Zaftig
"Hi," I said. "Did you see the bus that hit me? We should pay attention to the license number."
"Sorry, cara," he said, kissing my cheek. "I'm afraid I was hit by the same bus." He licked my neck, making my blood run hot. I could go for another round. He moved so that my head was cradled against his chest. I listened to the rapid pace of his heart, which hadn't slowed down after our lovemaking. I trailed one hand over his hip and felt the gratifying increase of pace.
"You want to kill me," he groaned, his hand going to my hip. "You're going to drain me dry."
"I want to," I said, biting his shoulder. He rolled so that I was beneath him and my legs were wrapped around his narrow hips.
"I'll let you try." With that, he slid back inside of me. His tongue invaded me with the same rhythm as the rest of his body. Beneath him, I was just along for the ride. I could hear the headboard thudding against the wall in a steady rhythm. My mouth was thoroughly explored by his tongue. And as he sped up, I bucked my hips upward in a way that made his liquid heat shoot inside of me.
He collapsed on top of my body. He was not small or light, but I was being crushed into the mattress in a way that I liked. I stroked his sweaty back.
"What are you doing to me?" Massimo asked, his face buried in my shoulder and breast.
"Whatever it is, you're doing it to me twice over," I tossed back. I could hear his soft laughter and stroked the silky strands of his hair. I kissed the top of his head.
My eyes were drifting shut. I couldn't keep them open anymore.
When I woke up, the bed was empty. No note, nothing at all indicated that he'd been there besides the stickiness and soreness between my thighs. I'd let wildfire passion carry me away for a night.
I had a terrible sick feeling in my stomach. My instincts were wrong last night. He just wanted to hit it and quit it. I was just a piece of ass to him. At least he had the decency to let me wake up in this bed, alone on stained sheets, feeling the delicious soreness from last night.
I was freezing to death in his hotel room which still smelled like the passion we shared. I had to get out of here. I showered because I didn't want to smell him on my body. Then I put on yesterday's dress and tossed my bra into my purse. I really needed to go back to my place. My world made a lot more sense when Massimo wasn't in it.
Reveal
Two and a half months later, I was still working out my frustrations on an elliptical in a local gym. I had a card that gave me a 15% discount on membership, which I was using fully. I got bored with my music, so I looked at the television screen.
"Prince Pietro arrives in Australia," the chevron at the bottom said. I didn't pay much attention to royalty, normally, but there was nothing else to look at in this room. When I took a slightly closer look at the man shaking hands with Prime Minister Turnbull, my heart stopped.
Massimo was on the screen. As I kept watching, it was clear he wasn't part of the entourage. He was the main attraction.
He'd lied to me.
I was in the middle of a busy gym. I couldn't burst into tears. So I just kept exercising like I hadn't realized that I'd been played.
At least I knew now why he hadn't texted me back. He was a little busy doing high-flying deals with heads of state. Someone like me had no business even talking to a prince. I'd just gotten lucky enough to spend some time with him.
I wiped a tear from the corner of my left eye. I'd promised to put thoughts of Massimo on a dusty shelf. I was breaking a promise to myself by watching him waving at people on TV.
Jumping off of the machine and out the door, I went to cheer myself up by going to a café and getting a spicy Mexican-influenced scone. It came out in a few minutes and I ate it quickly. It was so hot that I didn’t know if my tears were from sadness or capsaicin overload.
I went up to the register and asked my server, "Could I please pay my bill?" I needed to get out of here before I totally lost it.
"Yeah, of course," she said, a huge smile on her face. "Card?"
"Yes."
She gave me the machine. I jammed it in, chip-first, and then a receipt printed out. I signed it and she gave me a customer copy.
"Are you from Ireland?" I asked. Her accent was beautifully lyrical.
"No," she said. "I'm from Newcastle. But I've heard Irish a lot...some people think I'm Scottish."
"Cool. Sorry."
She shook her head. "No worries. I hope you have a good day."
I smiled back at her. "You, too."
My eyes stung from the tears, so I put the receipt away in my purse. I kept blinking to try not to cry on the street in front of other people.
It would be wrong to say that I felt betrayed. I wasn't betrayed. He hadn't told me that he wasn't a prince. But representing himself as just a businessman was wrong, too. So what if he wasn't interested in me anymore? I'd been my own person before I met him. I'd go on being myself whether I had him in my life or not. But I felt like I deserved more.
I was stupid for thinking that Prince Charming was waiting out there for me with a white steed. I could rely on one person: me.
It began to rain. I didn't want to go home and cry, so even though I was still sweaty, I walked to the Esplanade and stopped at a boba place. I sat there, reading a book on my phone, until the rain stopped. I walked home then and locked myself in my room. I decided to stay away from heartbreakers, businessmen, or princes. Neither of them seemed to make me happy. I was responsible for my own happiness.
I took a shower and heard my phone buzz. I ignored it, letting the hot water wash away my day. When I got out, I dried off and wrapped my hair in a towel. I could see the notification on my phone's screen.
I'm in Cairns.
The name of the contact was Massimo, better known as Prince Pietro. I didn't respond. I turned off my phone and plugged it into the wall. I was done with heartbreakers.
The next morning, I went into town to eat truffle and Parmesan fries at McDonald's right at 10:30 AM. The food available at the Mickey D's here was better than the options available back home in Siesta Key and far better than the options available in Camden, where I grew up. McDonald's had intuitive ordering kiosks that made it incredibly easy to input an order, pay, and have someone deliver food to your table, when McDonald's called table service. It was the same kind of thing they did at fast casual restaurants such as Noodles & Co., and I loved the vibe. It made me feel like I was at a real restaurant. Frankly, at the prices that I paid, I was glad that McDonald's was more of a middle-class restaurant here in Australia. The cost was comparable with any given café, so the Australian Macca’s, as they called it here, put an emphasis on customer service that didn't exist back home.
I loved people watching. There were so many families that came in and groups of teenagers. There were older people reading the newspaper while sipping coffee. Watching the employees was like watching a dance troupe dance at double speed. They were slinging food around, filling orders as fast as they could, and never resting. They looked like teenagers.
When I could no longer plausibly linger over my fries, I threw my trash away and walked further into town. I sat at the Cairns Central bus platform and looked at the bat trees. There were six enormous fig trees next to the library which were full of a gigantic colony of fruit-eating bats. They squeaked and mostly slept during the day. The angle helped me peer straight into a tree. They were much cuter than American micro-bats. Seeing them squeak did my heart good. Eventually, though, I knew I had to go home, so I walked back to my place.
As soon as I got home, I opened up Whatsapp.
I saw you on the news today.
I looked at my phone. He hadn't written back. A cold ball of fear settled in the base of my stomach. So long, thanks for the memories.
My phone chirped at me. I had an automated email that told me that there was some kind of party at 8 PM tonight. I checked my watch. I guessed that I'd go there.
It was dark when I left the house. There were little clumps of guys wandering around, somewhere betwe
en two and six. I walked past the mall and passed the bus station, which had about six people sitting around on benches, waiting for the next bus. I checked my phone to make sure that I was going in the right direction. I walked on Spence Street. I crossed several streets until I was on Lake. I turned left to go towards the door. When I got there, it was dark and empty. I could see a boy and a girl standing next to me with a grocery bag. They were talking to each other and were interrupted by two people.
"You know you can go upstairs, right?"
"Yeah, I just want to finish this cigarette."
"See you soon."
"See you in a bit."
I checked my phone. It was 8:01 PM. Everything was still dark.
At 8:03, the lights turned on. I walked inside. In front of me was a poster saying that the Thursday party was at 8:15 PM and that there was some kind of tax discussion on Fridays around noon.
"Oh, hello," the girl in the office said. "You're early."
"I have an email telling me that I needed to be here at 8 PM."
She picked up a flyer. "This says 8:15."
"Yeah, your poster says that, too." I crossed my arms. "Do you need me to come back?"
"You're okay, but I was planning on going down and having a smoke, and I can't leave you up here by yourself. Are you drinking tonight? You can go down and buy some beer. You have time. We used to serve it, but they stopped letting us."
"I thought you guys offered free beer."
"Yes, but that's later. We'll be here for about an hour before we go to The Woolshed."
"I can come back." I rubbed the back of my neck.
"Nah, we'll just go downstairs and have a chat."
The two people who'd been downstairs walked in at that moment.
"Could you give us a few minutes? I need to explain to them how we do things."
"Yeah...should I sit over here?"
"Sit wherever you want. We won't be long."
I tuned out as a remixed version of Despacito came on over the speakers. There was a heavier beat and it was faster, like a club version. It wasn't with Justin Bieber.
I thought about using the bathroom, and they didn't want me around yet, so I waved goodbye as I walked out the door. "I'll be back," I promised.
I walked downstairs and into the night. I tried to find a public toilet, since I knew that there were signs pointing to them, but I couldn't find one. I eventually walked up to a hostel's front desk. She told me to walk down Wilshire and keep going. As I walked down, I realized there were no streets called Wilshire. So I went back to the party.
I saw the first girl, who was downstairs smoking and talking to a girl who looked like an angel, since she was dressed in white and pretty much looked like she had a halo on. "There are more people upstairs now. I'll be up in a minute."
"Great," I said. I walked upstairs. As she'd said, there were about five other people upstairs. I walked down the hallway and saw that there were single unisex bathrooms, one for each company. There was a guy cleaning them up, but they were all locked. I walked up to one of the coordinators and asked, "Could I possibly get into your bathroom?"
"Sure thing," she said. She went behind the counter and looked at the key rings. "There should be a purple key here, but I can't see it. I'll go downstairs and ask."
"Right." I stood behind a pillar and felt like the most awkward person in the history of the world. The women were dressed to kill with wide expanses of cleavage and long, bare legs. I was dressed like a nun, no cleavage, no bare skin showing on my legs. I was overdressed for clubbing and partying.
I went and stood next to the staircase, waiting for someone to figure out where the key was. When she finally came up the stairs, she said, "Sorry, we don't have the key. Is it urgent?"
"Um..." I hesitated. "Is there somewhere else I could go to the bathroom?"
"You can walk to the Woolshed. They'll have a bathroom there. Just tell them that you need to use it."
I stared at her, cringing inside. I didn't want to walk into the business where the party would be going later and ask them, just out of the blue, to use their bathroom.
"I'm good," I said. "I think I'll just go home."
"Is it really that important?"
I shook my head. "It's okay." I didn't know where the Woolshed exactly was and had a terrible time figuring out where anything was, frankly. "I'm just going to go home now." The hair on the back of my neck was standing up. It seemed strange to have a party where you had to buy and bring your own beer. There was no access to a bathroom and the nearest bathroom was in a place that I'd have trouble finding with my terrible sense of direction. Even using my phone, I'd definitely get lost for at least 10 minutes trying to figure out where it was. I didn't relish the idea of walking in and explaining to the staff that I would be back later that night.
"You should stay!" she said.
"I'm okay. I hope you guys have fun tonight." With that, I turned and went down the staircase. I waved to the angel and the first person I'd seen.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going home," I said.
"No! Go upstairs and join the party."
I shook my head. "I'm going to go home now."
"Which hostel are you staying at?"
"It's not really a hostel. The Sharehouse," I said.
"Oh, Sabrina lives there," she said.
"Great. I'm going now. See you."
"Okay, have a good night!"
I turned and walked down the street. I vaguely remember how I'd walked there, but I wanted to get out of sight as fast as I could. I saw Orchid Plaza and cut a quick left. No matter where I walked from here, I'd be fine.
There were several restaurants on the second floor. I took the escalator past a place with a sushi conveyor belt and beelined for a Korean restaurant called Corea Corea. There were two men trying to decide if they wanted to eat there. I waved to the man behind the counter.
"I noticed that you guys close at 9. It's already 8:30. Is it too late to order bibimbap?"
"Yeah, it's okay."
"Second question: do you guys have a bathroom?"
"There's one next to the lift."
"Cool. Can I order bibimbap and come right back?"
"Yes. But pay first."
"Sure."
He ran my card through and gave me a number to place on my table. I ran for the bathroom and finally relaxed. When I walked back to the restaurant, I saw him putting my food on the table. He bowed to me as he took my number. I bowed back.
When I sat down, I saw that the miso soup was covered. I uncovered it and smelled the delicious scent wafting out of it. It had little bits of leaves inside. I ate it first.
The sauce that goes with bibimbap was red and spicy. I threw all of it in. My first bite of bibimbap was scorching hot in temperature and in flavor. I regretted using all of the sauce and understood in that moment why they served sauce on the side. I went to their water cooler to try to put out the fire in my mouth. It helped, but I kept eating it. It was cheaper and a bigger portion than the one that I'd gotten at Goong a week ago. The rice was scorched a little bit on the bottom, just the way I liked it. There were tears coming down my face from how spicy it was, but I just stood up and got more napkins.
The two men who'd looked at the menu as I came in were sitting behind me. There was a young couple directly in front of me who were sharing a bowl of bibimbap and drinking two bottles of Lipton Tea. I knew that the restaurant was closing, but I still took my sweet time for the minutes I had left.
When I left the restaurant, I was still hungry. So I went to Target for the first time since I'd stepped foot in Cairns.
Clothing was everywhere. In American Target, apparel was a pretty big section. I'd gone through a phase where I'd only shopped for dresses at Target. But here, it was on another level. They still had toy and electronics sections and most of the things that you'd expect in a Target, but the grocery part didn't really exist. In the movie section, they had snacks like candy and popcor
n to go along with movie night. I got two off-brand bags of candy and checked out. The line at the registers was backed up and there was a woman on the phone trying to figure out how to run a gift card, but I got out simply enough. Then I walked home.
I sat down and ate my candy snakes as dessert. I knew that the sugar would keep me up at night.
I looked at my phone. Nothing from Massimo. I swallowed a big lump of disappointment. What had I expected? I felt tears threatening to spill over in my eyes. He'd hit it and quit it. He never promised me tomorrow. The way that I was feeling was entirely my fault. He hadn't given me any empty promises. I'd built up an idea of what we could be, which was my responsibility. I'd let myself cry tonight. Tomorrow, I'd put those dreams back on a dusty shelf where I wouldn't think about them on a daily basis.
He hadn't had the decency to discuss his real identity with me, which meant that he never intended for our dalliance or whatever he wanted to call it to go further than a few perfect moments together. I should remember it for what it was, and not what I'd hoped it would become.
Clubbing
Three days later, my phone buzzed.
We're going out tonight. You're coming with.
I looked at my freezer, which had a pint of Chunky Monkey with my name on it.
Sure.
I knew that if I fought it, I'd have someone right here, ready and willing to force me to go out. I could always go home early and be lame. So I slapped on a small amount of eyeliner and lipstick and called it a day. I didn't have the energy for anything else.
I really wanted to be alone tonight, but I jumped into her car when she came home.
"You look like shit," Jessica said. "You obviously need to go out tonight. You can tell me all about it."
"It's dumb," I said. "It's not a big deal."
"Then why can't you smile?"
I tried to, just to prove her wrong, but my mouth wouldn't move. It felt weirdly heavy. What was going on?
"I got involved with a guy who didn’t want me.”
“I already knew that. Why the long face?”
