Natexus

by Victoria L. James

  “Remind me why I’m friends with your sister again?”

  “Beats me. She’s a constant thorn in my left testicle.”

  “Just the left?” I smirked.

  “I should have said butt cheeks. It’s weird talking about my little sister and my testicles in the same sentence.”

  My brows rose, the humour suddenly returning to my face as I stared at him in wonder. “And talking about her alongside your butt cheeks isn’t?”

  “Okay, this is getting awkward. I normally wait until a third or fourth date with a girl before I start talking balls and arse. Can we start over?” He grinned.

  I looked down at my shoes before I glanced back up at him, shook my head and huffed out a laugh. “No need to start over. You’re wasting precious drinking time stood here talking with me. You can tell your bossy little sister I’m fine and go and enjoy your night, Alex–”

  “Alex?” he interrupted, obviously amused.

  Shit.

  “Marcus,” I corrected myself in a whisper, but I couldn’t stop my frown from appearing. Looking over his shoulder, I tried to work out the fastest way to escape, seeing as the earth was still refusing to gobble me up despite my demands. But he must have been watching more closely than I realised, and before I could even step to the right to get out of his way, he moved to block me, his hand rising to my shoulder to hold me in place. I flinched from his touch and looked up at him through helpless eyes as all the words and vocabulary I’d ever learned suddenly seemed to disappear.

  “Tell me something, Nat. Do you make a habit of running away from any guy that dares to make eye contact with you? Or is it just me?”

  Alex’s eyes taunted me, and I had to blink the image of him away before I spoke again. “I don’t make a habit of anything.”

  “Twice I’ve seen you, and twice you’ve wanted to run. Don’t you like the deodorant I wear or something?”

  “It’s nothing like that.”

  “Do I make you feel uncomfortable?”

  I slowly shook my head to say no, but the truth was, I had no idea if he did or not. All the signs pointed to yes, even though he’d never been anything but funny, honest and nice to me. “No. No you don’t make me feel uncomfortable.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Only when you try to talk to me about testicles.”

  Marcus laughed freely, pulling away and holding both his hands up in surrender. “I can’t argue with that. Listen, Natalie… and notice how I’m not getting your name mixed up with some other chick’s here.”

  My wince was audible as I scrunched one eye closed in embarrassment and waited him out.

  “As much as I believe in a woman’s free will and all that jazz, I’m walking you home whether you like it or not.”

  “What is it with guys wanting to walk me home?”

  “No disrespect to you and feminism, but I think I’d rather take a full hour of your snarky comebacks than have to listen to a single minute of one of my little sister’s lectures.”

  “You get those too, huh?”

  “More than you know.”

  “Glad it’s not just me.”

  “Sammy loves hard. It’s a curse of hers.”

  “And you?” I asked out of nowhere, completely taken by surprise by my own question. “What’s your curse?”

  “Me?” He grinned harder, dropping his hands into his trouser pockets and tilting his head to one side. “I never know when to quit.”

  Copying his pose, I tilted my head in question, unable to hide my small scowl of curiosity. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

  “It means I’m walking you home one way or another, whether you like it or not. You can go peacefully, or we can try a fireman’s lift. I’m flexible like that. It also means we’re probably going to stop at the fish ‘n’ chip shop on the way because I’m starving and if I don’t eat soon, shit’s probably going to get real testically again. It means it’s more than likely that I’m going to make you sit and talk and not let you out of my sight until you’ve laughed at least fifteen times and forgotten all about that douche canoe called Jeff.”

  “Alex.” I smiled unexpectedly.

  “I'm called Marcus.”

  “I know.” I laughed. “His name is Alex.”

  “Whatever.” He shrugged, his own grin growing by the second. I inhaled sharply, holding the air in my chest as I waited for him to finish. “I don’t take no for an answer, little Nat, so you may as well agree to all of the above. The sooner you let me get my own way, the sooner all of this will be over for you.”

  I knew I was staring at him, but no matter how long we looked at one another, no matter how long I waited for a reasonable excuse to spring to mind to get me out of it, nothing ever came. The small pang of guilt I felt was soon wiped away as the memory of Alex leaning into Bronwyn came back to mind, and then all reasons to walk away from Marcus vanished completely.

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  “Christ. That was easier than I expected.”

  “But... I don’t have any cash on me.”

  Taking a step forward, Marcus leaned closer, his face suddenly an inch from mine when his minty breath washed over me.

  “Unlike Mike, I’m a gentleman, Nat. I’ll even hold the door open and pull your chair out for you. You’re safe with me.”

  “His name is Alex.”

  “I think I'll call him Frank.”

  TWENTY

  “You don’t like it?” he asked while munching on a chip. When I looked up, Marcus had an elbow on the table with another chip held limp between his fingers as he watched me.

  Staring down at the barely touched tray of food, I picked up my plastic fork, stabbed it into the battered fish and brought it up to my lips. “Yummy,” I mumbled, giving him a thumbs up before I shoved it into my mouth and began to chew.

  His lips twitched as he studied me – and make no mistake about it, Marcus was studying me. I felt exposed under his gaze, much the same way I did with his sister. Every time I tried to roll my eyes or challenge his glare, his humour only grew. It was both embarrassing and infuriating.

  “Never go into politics.”

  “And why not?” I mumbled through a small gap in my mouth.

  “Because…” He swallowed. “You’re a really, really, really bad liar.”

  Rolling the food around in my mouth, I tried to look serious, but it was hard when he was wearing that cocky, half grin on his face, so instead of saying anything that would only give him more reason to call me out, I remained quiet. Jabbing my fork back into the tray, I pulled out a chip and pushed it into my mouth as I watched him, watching me.

  “Should that turn me on? Cause it kind of is doing.”

  My cough and splutter were immediate and it felt like my eyes were about to pop out of my head as I struggled to compose myself.

  “Shit, don’t choke on me, little Nat.” Reaching over, Marcus began to tap the top of my back while I felt like my head was about to explode. After a few minutes of grunting, groaning and composing myself, I eventually inhaled my first decent bout of oxygen in what felt like forever. Pulling in air thick and fast, I ran my thumb over my eyebrow and looked back down at the table. I was willing the blush in my cheeks to make a quick exit, but the more attention I gave it, the more I drew it out.

  Marcus’ heavy sigh had me looking back up at him. “You’re embarrassed again, aren’t you?”

  “Nooo. What makes you say that?” I croaked.

  “Your cheeks could stop traffic right now.” He pushed my can of Dandelion and Burdock closer towards me, eyeing it not so subtly. I reached out, grateful for the distraction before I took a big, long drink and let the icy cold liquid douse the flames that were raging in my throat.

  “Thank you.” I gasped when I’d finished.

  Neither of us said anything straight away, but just the thought of eating again made my stomach turn over. I really wasn’t all that hungry. I hadn’t been to begin with. I was being polite.
r />   “Natalie?” he said softly. “Do me a favour and relax.”

  “Sorry,” I muttered as my shoulders sagged.

  “And stop apologising.”

  “Sor–”

  His eyes widened in warning, but he was wearing his humour with pride. There wasn’t any real threat behind his intense gaze, all of which made me soften even more.

  “Screw you,” I forced out through a smile. “Is that better?”

  “Much better. I like it when you’re sassy.”

  “Noted.”

  “So,” he began, pausing to take a drink before returning his attention to his food. “You wanna talk about Richard?”

  “And Richard is…?” I chuckled.

  “That idiot who hurt your feelings tonight.”

  “Alex,” I reminded him, pushing my tray away from me so I could rest both my arms on the table and lean forward. “You got an issue with his name?”

  “No.” Marcus shoved some more food in his mouth, his eyes alive with something I couldn’t quite pinpoint. “I got an issue with him.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I don’t like guys called Tristan and I don't like guys who don’t look after what they’ve got.”

  “Alex was my friend. He never had me.”

  “Never?” he asked, quirking a brow as though he already knew the answer. “Don’t bother answering that. Your body language just gave you away.”

  “My body language?” I looked down at my arms, then into my lap, noticing for the first time that my thighs were squeezed together from the few fleeting images that had just assaulted me – the ones of Alex’s body towering over mine before we made love.

  “Oh.”

  “Plus, you have that whole hearts in your eyes thing going on whenever his name is mentioned.”

  “I do?”

  “Yeah, it’s sickening.” He grinned. “He’s done quite a number on you, hasn’t he?”

  I dragged in a weighty breath and rubbed my lips together. Had he done a number on me? I had no idea. I didn’t know much about anything anymore. Alex was once the source of relief in my life – the thing that I clung to, to get me through the dark days. He was the light that got on the bus to clear the clouds. He was the smile that got rid of my frown. He was the comfort, the safety net, the distraction I’d needed without realising I’d needed it, or him, at all.

  “It’s... complicated.”

  “Those are usually the best stories.”

  “It’s too long.”

  “I have time,” he offered, and that curious smile of his was there once again.

  Tilting my head to one side, I studied him for a change. It was hard not to shy away when he was looking at me the way he was doing. My natural instincts were telling me to look down in embarrassment, but I fought back that time. I wanted to read him the way he was so intent on reading me.

  “Why do you care so much, Marcus?”

  “Who said I cared?”

  “Your eyes say you care.”

  “And here I was thinking you didn’t see much.”

  “A wise woman once told me that it was time I paid attention.”

  “I like the sound of this woman.”

  “You should. She was the best.”

  “Was?”

  I nodded slowly, sighing as a shiver of grief erupted across my skin. “Elizabeth. My sister. She passed away.”

  Marcus lowered his fork onto his tray, and he had the decency to look sombre for just a moment. It was fleeting, though, and when his eyes met mine again, he reached out to place a hand on my arm. He felt warm, comforting, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t want to pull away when someone other than Alex or my parents touched me.

  “I liked Lizzy growing up. I heard about her passing. I thought of you both.”

  “Yeah?” I smiled. “In between uni parties and taking girls back to your dorm for Super Noodles and a Coke.”

  Nodding to the side, he winked and leaned in closer. “They preferred pizza and a smoke.”

  “I don’t want to know.” I laughed. “But thank you. It means a lot to know people were thinking about her.”

  He pulled away then, his food once again becoming his focus. I watched on as though this was a routine the two of us had been through all our lives. After a night of ridiculous hiccups, stumbles and choking, it felt like my tension was slowly beginning to drift away. I guess I’d made as much of a fool of myself as I was going to for one night, and something about Marcus seeing me at my most dorky and still sitting there felt like a small comfort.

  “You thought about uni?” he asked in between mouthfuls of food.

  “Umm…” I chewed the inside of my mouth before speaking. It was a question my parents had been asking me a lot lately. I only had one year of studying left before I had to make my final decision. I was on track to achieve the grades I had to, mainly thanks to mine and Alex’s mutual obsession with making each other study, but I couldn’t let him in my thoughts right now. All that was left for me to do was carry on as I had been doing and my options were open.

  “Tough question?”

  “It kind of is.” I grinned, pushing my head into my hand to rest there while I looked up at him. “I was going to stay local – maybe Leeds.”

  “With Dave?”

  I rolled my eyes and mouthed the name ‘Alex’ back to him carefully. “Yes, with him.”

  “A bit of honesty for once. I like it.” Finally clearing his tray, he pushed it to one side and copied my pose exactly, leaning over the table with his head in one hand as his green eyes penetrated my blue. “And if you don’t stay in Leeds, what other options do you have to think about?”

  “I guess the world is my oyster.”

  “What about Preston?”

  “Preston uni? Why would I want to go to Preston?”

  His lazy smile went all the way up to his eyes, and his face became alive with a brightness that was almost blinding. “Because I’m there and Matthew isn’t.”

  “Tempting.” I smirked.

  “I think so.”

  “You'd only have one year left by the time I got there, though.”

  “Yeah, but it would be the best year of your life, sweet cheeks.”

  And just like that, I was smiling again. Not because my problems had suddenly disappeared. Not because I wasn’t missing Alex anymore or because all my feelings had been brushed under a rug.

  I was smiling because Marcus was trying. He was trying to make me happy.

  That was something everyone needed in their lives, and it seemed that when one door was being slammed in my face, another one was cracking open with a crooked finger sticking out of it, enticing me in.

  “Are you always like this?” I asked with genuine curiosity.

  “Never,” he admitted. “Fancy a smoke and a pizza?”

  The laughter that roared free was a relief to us both. I still had it there inside of me. Somewhere.

  As long as I didn’t allow myself to focus on missing Alex.

  I just had to figure out if that was even possible after tonight.

  *******

  “Your mother tells me you’re going out?”

  Tearing my eyes away from the mirror in front of me, I glanced over my shoulder and smiled at my father who was leaning against the doorframe of my bedroom. His arms were folded across his chest, and he had one ankle crossed over the other. I knew what he was doing there. I knew I looked different to him and he was trying to figure out if he approved of it or not.

  “Is that okay?” I asked him, just to be polite.

  “It’s more than okay, darling.”

  “Thank you.” Pushing myself up from my stool, I picked up the ends of my dress and gave him an awkward curtsy. “What do you think? Too much?”

  Dad moved slowly, advancing towards me before his smile turned flat and he picked a curl of my hair. Twirling it around his finger, a film of tears coated his eyes, but I didn’t let him know I’d noticed them.

&n
bsp; “You look out of this world.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far, Dad,” I muttered, blushing as I started to shuffle awkwardly on my feet.

  “I would. Did your mother curl your hair for you?”

  “Yes. There’s no way I could have done this.”

  He pulled away carefully to look down at my outfit, keeping my hair in his grip. “And this dress. I know this dress from somewhere.”

  “It was Lizzy’s.” I glanced down at the black babydoll dress Mum had pulled out for me. Cinched at the waist and fanning out to just an inch or two above my knee, it was quite possibly the most feminine thing I’d ever worn. “I think she wore it once before. Maybe for a Christmas party.”

  “I remember,” he said quietly. Swallowing the lump of grief that had risen in his throat, he dropped his hand and pushed it into his trouser pocket before looking up at me. “Can I ask who you’re going out with tonight?”

  “Just with Sammy and the girls.” I didn’t mention the fact that her brother would probably be there, too, seeing how he’d suddenly started to turn up whenever Sammy and I got together. It had been a week since he’d walked me home and we’d eaten together. Just a week and I’d see him four times in passing.

  “No Alex?”

  Schooling my face, I offered him a gentle shake of the head before looking back down at my dress. “No,” I whispered.

  “It’s okay to miss him, you know.”

  “I’ll get over it,” I croaked.

  “I always felt like you were safe when I knew you were with him.”

  “I know.”

  “He was a good kid.”

  “He still is,” I said through a sad smile before looking back up at him.

  Dad’s eyes narrowed as they searched mine. Opening his mouth to say something, he quickly thought better of it and pressed his lips together once more. With a small nod of his head, he stepped aside and waved me past him, bending at the waist. “Don’t let this old man delay you from having a wonderful time with your friends. Although I don’t know what kind of father I am, letting you go out to a nightclub before you’re eighteen.”

  “You can trust me. I’m not going to do anything stupid.” I began to move forward, but stopped in front of him, placing my hand on his shoulder before I gently kissed the top of his head. “I love you, Pops.”