Hating Valentine's Day

by Allison Rushby - Hating Valentine's Day

  Jesus, I’ve got to sort myself out.

  I stand up and push my bar stool back in the process. ‘Off to the ladies’,’ I say to Justine and Drew, and head off across the polished floorboards.

  When I get there, I push the door open and step inside, letting it swing closed behind me. I don’t open the second door that leads through to the toilets, but stand and look at myself in the mirror. I look fine. Great, even.

  But my head…

  Ugh.

  Right, Liv. I take a good, long, hard look at myself in the mirror and prepare to tell myself a few things. Firstly, the kiss was nothing. Simply one tiny, slightly embarrassing moment. Not that it was even a proper kiss. At the risk of sounding indiscreet, there was no wetness involved. No tongues. If anything, it was a misplacement of lips. And though I try not to, and though I look down and stare at the bench in front of me very, very hard, the moment comes back to me in vivid detail once more. As I get to the brushing lips my breath catches.

  I look back directly at myself in the mirror, realising for the first time what the problem really is here. Working it out.

  My problem is that I liked it.

  I stare at myself, my mouth hanging slightly open.

  I really liked it.

  I think back. Back to lunch. Back to last night at Rachel’s. And then I grab my bag and pull out my wallet. Slowly I extract Drew’s card.

  When he handed it to me I started to give him the ‘I’m not ready’ spiel before my eyes made me stop in case they spilled over. I was about to do the whole bit. I’m not ready to date again. I’m not ready for another relationship. I’m not ready for another man to…

  I lower my eyes to my hand, where the card’s resting, and start to turn the piece of paper over and over, feeling its edges dig into my fingers. I remember my dream from last night about my past. My past and Mike. Maybe Tania’s right. Maybe it did mean something after all…I stare at the card so hard the words end up swimming before my eyes.

  And then, after what feels like for ever, my eyes flick up to the mirror again.

  I start to smile. And it’s a small smile at first, but as I watch it gets larger and larger and larger. Well, maybe I was wrong about what I told Drew after lunch. Because I think I might be—ready, I mean. I glance over at the closed door then, thinking what’s on the other side.

  When I turn back I’m still smiling. Yes, I think I really might be ready.

  Ready to put Mike behind me. Ready to move forward. Ready to…Oh, everything. I might just be there after all this time. I might just have found that pretty darn special one.

  I look at myself steadily in the mirror and I simply can’t stop smiling.

  But I do stop. Just for long enough to reapply that lipstick that I never bother to reapply before I hurry back outside. Maybe eleven-scoring NGs do exist after all?

  Here’s hoping…

  Y Y Y Y

  The cocktails, two bottles of wine, bruschetta, crab pasta, citrus tart and a short black are all delicious, as per Guava Bar usual. By nine-thirty-five the three of us are walking arm-in-arm through the city, Drew in the middle to keep us steady, towards the club we were supposed to meet his friends at five minutes ago.

  When we get there, his friends are waiting outside. Drew does the introductions—Paul from work and John from too far back to remember.

  We head inside and I’m surprised to see how busy the club is for a Wednesday night. The place isn’t nearly as packed as I’ve seen it on a weekend, but still, for a Wednesday night…I think I’d forgotten people went out on weeknights at all. As I look around, it shocks me just how young everyone looks. Truly…youthful. Unlined. They all look so youthful that I wonder whether they’ve all procured fake ID at some place around the corner; so unlined that I’m surprised the bouncer didn’t make an announcement over the club’s PA system that somebody’s mother was here to pick them up when he gave me the once-over and didn’t ask for my ID (bastard), at the door.

  Justine and I hoist ourselves up on some tall stools sitting around a spare table and get down to business. Scotch and dry kind of business for me, and another glass of white kind of business for Justine. John stays with us while Drew and Paul go for the drinks. I wait for them to come back with a jug of a garish-looking pink watermelon-flavoured concoction, saying the bartender didn’t know how to make anything else, but they don’t. They must get adults in here from time to time, I think to myself, as I take my Scotch and dry from Drew.

  ‘Thanks.’ I smile up at him.

  He smiles back. ‘So, do you think it’d be illegal for me to dance with any of the girls out there?’ he asks, putting his elbows on the table. ‘You know, me being over sixteen and all?’

  I laugh. ‘They make you feel old, don’t they?’

  He nods. ‘It’s an illusion. You’ve got to remember what it was really like for us back then. At least we can afford to buy more than one drink with three straws between us these days. And we don’t have to leave at eleven-forty-five to catch the last bus home. We can afford a cab.’

  ‘I never thought about it like that.’

  I look over at Justine, who’s deep in conversation with John. She’s been talking to him for ages now, and it’s then that I remember John’s the single one, and it’s Paul whose girlfriend wasn’t able to come tonight. Typical Justine. She’s like a bloodhound. She can sniff out a single guy at fifty paces.

  I look down at my drink. Hmm. Maybe I should slow down. And I should definitely not say that out loud.

  Drew and I chat as we polish off our drinks, while Justine does a line on John and Paul talks to someone he knows nearby.

  When he’s finished his beer, John puts his bottle down on the table. ‘Well?’ he says to the three of us, and looks at the dance floor.

  ‘You two go.’ I turn and look at Justine, and then back at John. ‘I’ve got to talk to Drew about something.’

  As Justine gets up she bends over and whispers in my ear. ‘Sure you’re not interested?’ she asks.

  I shake my head. ‘All yours, babe.’

  She gives me a surreptitious wink before she stands upright and grabs John with one arm. ‘Let’s go.’

  Drew manoeuvres himself around the table and into Justine’s vacant seat. We watch as she moves John onto the dance floor.

  I turn to Drew. ‘The nightclub dance floor. The habitat of the native Justine.’

  We both watch for a bit longer.

  Finally Drew looks at me. ‘What was it you wanted to talk to me about?’

  ‘Talk to you about?’ I have to think hard before I remember what I said just a few minutes ago. I take a look down at my drink again, wondering just how strong it is. Or maybe it was the three glasses of wine and the cocktail before that did it. Could have been. ‘Oh, that,’ I say, finally remembering. ‘It was nothing. I just didn’t want to cramp her style.’

  Drew’s eyes widen. ‘You already worked it out between you? That she was going to have a crack at John? That was quick. I’ve been with you guys the whole time and I never heard you say anything about it.’

  I laugh. ‘We use a sophisticated form of eyebrow communication.’

  Drew looks at me blankly.

  ‘Oh, come on! I’m joking.’

  ‘I’m surprised they hit it off, actually. Justine’s not really his type.’

  ‘And you’d know?’ I say. ‘She wasn’t your type either, but you went out with her.’

  ‘On one date! And I know what my type is, thanks very much.’ Drew grins and leans in closer to me.

  ‘And that would be…?’

  He leans in closer still. ‘Oh, smart, beautiful…’

  Hello! my soused mind starts to think and I lean in closer as well. I’m just starting to wonder whether we’re going to misplace lips again when John comes running back over to the table and pulls us both up off our chairs.

  ‘I warned you,’ he says and pulls us both up and out onto the dance floor.

  We don’t leave until we
ll past one a.m.

  I share a cab home with Drew.

  In no time somehow we’re kissing drunkenly on the back seat, his warm hands running up the inside of my shirt. And I’m about to ask him if he wants to come up for coffee, or sex, perchance, when something stops me and I pull back. Way, way back, to the other side of the cab. I sit there for a second or two, looking at him, at Drew, with my head telling me how it is—how I shouldn’t be doing this. How NGs, whatever their rating, don’t exist. How it’s just the alcohol. How I’m going to get hurt again. How Drew’s going to hurt me. And then, almost as suddenly again, I reach out and pull him over to me.

  Because the fact is, right now, in this moment, I just don’t care.

  Y Y Y Y

  Thursday 11 February-it’s right around the corner…

  My alarm goes off at eight-thirty and I hit the snooze button twice, knowing that I don’t have any appointments today at all. When I do drag myself out of bed I have a bit of a sleepy smile at myself in the mirror as I remember last night. The perfect night out. And not a bad dream in sight. Maybe, with meeting Drew, I really have put my past behind me.

  There’s that smile again. Amazing. I can’t seem to stop smiling these days.

  Things are looking up for Liv.

  Just after nine-thirty, I walk through the studio’s front door with a yawn and a wave.

  ‘Hey, there.’ Sally swivels on her chair to greet me. ‘Sleep in?’

  I nod, still yawning.

  ‘Oh.’ Sally picks up a piece of paper from her desk and holds it out to me. ‘I’ve, um, got a message for you. Mike called. He said it was urgent.’

  I’ve started across the room for the note, but now I stop halfway, suddenly wide awake. ‘Mike?’ This certainly knocks the smile off my face.

  Sally nods.

  I continue over and take the message from her. It’s his work number. Beside me, Sally passes over the cordless phone, but her hand lingers on it as I take it from her. ‘Liv,’ she says, giving me a worried look, ‘just…be careful.’

  I nod, taking the phone from her. And I’ve just started dialling Mike’s number when Sally’s voice makes me pause.

  ‘Oh. My. God.’

  I stop dialling when I hear her tone. It’s not good. It’s not good at all. ‘What…?’ I begin, but trail off when I follow her eyes out through the plate glass front of the office.

  It’s Mike.

  In the flesh.

  My eyes swing back to Sally, who gives me a look I’ve never seen before. ‘Do you want me to send him packing?’ she asks quickly.

  I can’t answer and only manage a shrug and a slight shake of my head. I’ve got no idea what he wants. What he’s doing here.

  Sally takes a deep breath in. ‘Like I said, Liv, be careful.’

  I nod, still silent.

  And then we both watch as the door opens before us and Mike enters the room.

  The first thing that pops into my mind is that he looks—well, he looks…the same. Maybe his hair is a little different—the sideburns are longer, maybe he has a few more tiny wrinkles—but apart from that it’s the same old Mike. The Mike I used to go to sleep with, the Mike I’d wake up with in the morning. Looking at him, though, all that feels like a million years ago. Almost as if he wasn’t my boyfriend at all, but a figment of my imagination. Something I’ve dreamt, or a character from a movie.

  ‘Liv. Hi.’ He pauses in the doorway. ‘Can I, um, come in?’

  I wake up to myself with another shake of my head. ‘Sure, of course. Sally said you called?’

  ‘Yeah, right. I did.’

  At least he has the good grace to look uncomfortable, I think, as I watch him move from foot to foot. ‘Oh, these are for you.’ He steps forward and gives me something.

  A bunch of flowers. A bunch of lilies, actually. I take them from him. ‘Um, thanks.’ I’m not quite sure where to look. What is he giving me flowers for? And what is he doing here?

  Mike must see what I’m thinking, because he starts a bit then.

  ‘Oh, sorry. I’ve come about Toby.’

  Now I’m really awake. I take a step forward, bringing me closer to Mike again. ‘Toby? Is he OK? Is everything all right?’

  Mike shakes his hands quickly. ‘No, no, everything’s fine. It’s nothing like that. It’s just that he keeps insisting he saw you up a tree in the park across the road from your old place the other day. He won’t stop talking about it.’

  ‘Oh. Ah. Right.’ Damn. I could have sworn Toby hadn’t seen me in the park. He was looking at exactly the right spot, but he made no indication that he recognised me.

  ‘He’s made me go over twice to look for you in case you’re still there. He’s convinced we’re all involved in an elaborate game of hide and seek.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘I asked him why he didn’t tell me when he thought he saw you, but he says he thought it was a game, and then when he looked again you were gone, and—’

  ‘Mike?’ I interrupt him.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Tuesday morning. I was up a tree in the park. Toby’s quite correct.’

  There’s a long pause. Sally coughs in the background and both Mike and I look over at her. ‘Don’t mind me,’ she says, and we both turn back again.

  ‘Can we, um…?’ Mike motions over to the kitchen.

  ‘Sure.’ I follow him over into the next room. It’s kind of pointless—the office is so small you can hear everything that’s said wherever anyone stands in it—but moving our conversation into the kitchen will give the illusion of privacy at least.

  I exhale when I reach Mike again. ‘Look. It’s not what you’re thinking. I was doing an engagement shoot. Trying to get a different angle. It wasn’t a social stalking exercise or anything.’ As soon as the words come out of my mouth I regret them and my eyes shoot down to the floor. Social stalking? Where did that come from?

  There’s another pause.

  ‘Oh,’ Mike finally says.

  I continue inspecting the floor, my shoe, the bottom of the kitchen cabinet. ‘So Toby’s telling the truth. Tell him I’m sorry. I didn’t know he’d seen me.’

  ‘You saw us, then?’

  Ugh. I realise I’ve just given that much away. ‘I didn’t want to disturb you.’

  ‘Toby would have liked to see you,’ Mike says. Then, ‘And me,’ he adds as an afterthought.

  I can’t help but ask. ‘How is he? He looks so big.’ I get the courage to glance up now. Now that we’re on a safe subject.

  ‘He’s good. Really good.’

  ‘Great. And, um, Amanda?’ I try to be polite, but even I can hear that my voice sounds cold when I speak her name.

  ‘Well, um, that’s also kind of why I’m here, actually…’

  I try to move my eyes away again, but they’re fixed. My mouth opens, as if to say something, but nothing comes out. But there’s plenty, plenty going on with the rest of my body. Something inside my head says: This is it, this is it, this is it. And my heart—well, my heart starts racing, making me feel slightly sick. I place Mike’s flowers down and rest one hand on the kitchen bench for support, hoping that I look casual instead of freaked out.

  ‘Amanda and I kind of finished for good. A while ago.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh.’ Behind me I hear the front door to the office open and close. Thank God, I think. Sally’s gone out.

  ‘I’ve been meaning to call you. Or drop in. Or something. Anyway, when Toby said he’d seen you, I thought maybe it was a sign…’

  ‘Right.’ I’m sweating now. Actually sweating. I can feel the beads dripping down my back, sliding until they hit my waistband. ‘A sign? Sure, Mike.’

  ‘Yes. So, I was wondering if you’d like to go out for dinner tonight. You know, to talk about things?’

  ‘Um, sure. Yes. Of course.’ I say the words on autopilot.

  ‘Great!’ Mike looks relieved. ‘Well, how about I pick you up at seven-thirty, then?’
r />   I’m about to say sure, yes, of course, or something like that again, when a little voice pipes up and tells me not to. ‘Um, Mike, how about I meet you instead? Rosalie Street? Seven-thirty?’

  Mike nods. ‘Fantastic. I’ll see you then.’

  ‘OK.’

  He grins. ‘I’d best be off, then,’ he says cheerily, moving past me on his way to the door.

  I try to turn, to watch him go, but my feet seem to be stuck to the floor. I can’t move. Can’t think.

  ‘You’re a lucky man,’ Mike says behind me. ‘She’s the best photographer in the business. Comes highly recommended.’

  I finally manage to turn to see him slap the guy standing in the main office area on the arm.

  ‘Yep, a lucky man.’

  And with that he departs. But the guy, the guy he slapped on the arm, is still standing there.

  And the guy is Drew.

  ‘Drew!’ I unfreeze, taking a few steps forward.

  Behind him, Sally stands up from her chair. ‘I’m sorry, Liv. I went to the bathroom and…’

  ‘I, er, came to give you these.’ He places a stunning bunch of irises down on the bench beside him. Irises. My second favourite flower—right after tulips. ‘And to ask you out for dinner.’ There’s a quick, tight smile with this. ‘But it seems you have other plans…’

  My shoulders sag and I take another step forward. ‘No, Drew, it’s not like that…’

  There’s a pause. His eyebrows go up. ‘What is it like, Liv?’

  I stop in my tracks. ‘I…He…It’s…’

  ‘That’s what I thought. So I’ll be off.’

  ‘Drew…’ I start again, but it’s too late.

  Drew has already gone.

  Y Y Y Y

  Once again, just like last night, I’m standing in front of my bathroom mirror getting ready to go out. But that’s where the similarity ends, because tonight feels nothing like last night. Nothing like last night at all.