Drawn

by Anderson, Lilliana

  “I expected you to choose pants,” she smiles, touching my arm lightly. “Have a great time tonight. Stay out as long as you like. Be good – and drink if you wish. I promise to deal with your father.”

  “Thanks mum,” I whisper, giving her a quick hug.

  On my way out, I can’t stop smiling as she leans against the door jam and keeps calling out for me to have a good time. I’m now wondering who’s more excited about this. Me or her?

  “Holy shit Etta. You look smoking hot tonight,” Aaron remarks as I get in the car.

  “Thank you,” I smile. “You don’t look so bad yourself. I like this look on you.”

  He’s wearing a pair of red jeans with a fitted black t-shirt. You can actually see the hours this man puts in at the uni gym through his clothes, and I wonder why he still doesn’t have a girlfriend. I don’t really think he’s dated much at all since we broke up.

  As we approach the campus Bar Café, I’m feeling a little overdressed. Most of the people milling about the campus are wearing casual jeans and t-shirt type outfits as they move from class to class. My phone goes off in my bag, signalling that I have a message.

  Still coming? It says.

  I smile as I reply to Kensi, Yes, we’re outside.

  When the bar comes into view, my smile grows wider as I see Kensi and Jessica, both in red dresses, leaning against one of the outside tables, talking to a few other people dressed in a similar fashion.

  “Yay! You made it,” Kensi squeals, dancing about excitedly as she holds a bottle of beer above her head.

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” I return, grinning like crazy. I’ve been to the uni bar before, but I’ve never been able to go out with everyone afterward. I’ve always had to keep to my curfew. Now suddenly, I don’t have one, and I can’t stop smiling.

  “I love that dress,” Kensi says. “I wish I was tall enough to wear something like that. Long dresses make me look like a baby,” she laughs.

  “There has to be a benefit to being a giant woman,” I laugh in return.

  “We haven’t been to one of these pool competitions before. Are they any good?” Jessica asks, directing her question toward Aaron.

  “Um, yeah. They’re not too bad. I normally buddy up with a few friends. That’s them over there,” he says, nodding toward a group of people we know from our classes.

  “Can you play pool Etta?” asks Kensi, as she lifts her bottle of beer to her lips.

  “A little, I know the rules. But I’m rarely here long enough to play,” I reply, hoping they don’t really expect me to play in the tournament.

  Our other friends wave us over to their table. “Let me introduce you to our friends,” Aaron offers, guiding us all over to our usual group of Jenny, Kylie, Daniel, Carl and Adam, who are already seated and drinking at an inside table.

  Kylie jumps up and hugs me. “Happy birthday! We thought we’d sit inside today since your legal now,” she bounces.

  “It was your birthday?” Kensi asks.

  “Yeah Tuesday,” I smile, turning to introduce them before everyone gets caught up discussing my age again. “Everyone, this is Kensi and Jessica. They’re going to be my housemates as of this weekend,” I tell them all proudly.

  “Oh my god! You found something already? That’s fantastic,” squeals Jenny.

  “And I hear you’re coming out with us tonight,” Carl adds.

  “I sure am,” I grin.

  “Does that mean she can sub in for me with this pool thing?” Adam asks. He seems to be all arms and legs and from what I hear, is solely responsible for the constant losses this group is amassing in the pool competition.

  “Don’t try and rope her in,” Jenny puts in. “Adam you’ll be fine. The men play the pool and the women sit around and drink and giggle. It’s the rules, and it has been for years.”

  “What’s going on?” I ask Aaron.

  “Adam doesn’t want to play,” Carl explains.

  “But we need a forth,” Aaron responds.

  “Etta can do it,” Adam insists.

  “Alright, well if you want me to – I’ll play. I can sink the balls, I just can’t do any fancy tricks,” I offer, realising that I’d actually prefer to play pool more than I’d prefer to watch for a change.

  “Sounds perfect. Of course you’ll partner with me,” Aaron smiles.

  “Of course,” I grin back.

  Aaron and Karl rise from their seats and make their way over to the sign up area. It’s at that moment I get a prickling sensation dancing over my skin. When I look around for the reason, I notice Damien, sitting at the bar, beer in hand, watching me.

  The moment I catch his eye, he tilts his glass toward me and smiles, giving me a wink. The corner of my mouth twitches as I try to fight my smile, although the blush comes anyway and I’m sure he notices because he laughs a little as he takes a sip of his drink.

  “We’re all set,” Aaron says as he makes his way back over. “Can I get you a drink?” he offers, pointing toward the bar.

  “Yeah, actually. That’d be nice,” I smile, glancing toward the bar where I just saw Damien. He’s still there, but he’s joined by two other guys now as well as that Bec girl who was at his room on Monday. She catches me watching and smiles, like she’s some sort of a feline, playing with her prey as she slides her arm over the back of Damien’s shoulders before whispering something in his ear.

  “What’ll it be?” Aaron asks, stealing my attention away.

  “Surprise me,” I smile, unable to force my attention away from Damien and Bec long enough to decide for myself.

  He laughs. “I’ll try and get you something nice.”

  “Thanks.”

  Quite a crowd has gathered now that the tournament is about to start, and as I watch Aaron push through it, I find my eyes straying to find Damien. Although he’s not there anymore. Actually, I can’t see him anywhere.

  “Here you go. I don’t think you’ve tried this one before,” Aaron says as he hands me a watermelon vodka mixer.

  “Thank you,” I smile, accepting the bottle, and taking a cautious sip. It’s actually quite nice.

  “Are you looking for someone?” he enquires.

  “No. Just looking around,” I lie.

  A short and very pale skinned guy stands up on a makeshift stage and taps the microphone. He’s wearing round Harry Potter style glasses and has shoulder length, lifeless brown hair.

  “Attention everyone. The tournament is just about to start. I’d like you all to note where your names are on the whiteboard. We’ll be running three games at a time, so listen up and pay attention for when you’re called.”

  He announces the names for the first three games, and we all either return to what we were doing or move to watch the other games as the players rack up the balls.

  “We’re not playing for a while. You want some food while we wait? My shout,” Aaron asks.

  “Yeah actually, I’m starving. What are you thinking of?” I ask, looking over at the wall menu.

  “Maybe a bowl of chips?”

  “Perfect.” I take a seat at the table with the others as Aaron goes to order.

  “So are you and Aaron dating?” Kensi asks. Her silky dark hair and severe bob frame her heart shaped face. It works on her and makes her look porcelain doll-like.

  “We used to. But not anymore,” I reply, taking a sip of my drink.

  “They were hot and heavy for a while,” Jenny adds in. “But Etta’s younger than the rest of us and things didn’t work out for them.”

  “So what’s World Bar like? I haven’t been before,” I ask everyone, wanting to steer the conversation away from my dating history.

  “It’s a club,” says Daniel. “Music, dancing, drunk people. Everyone goes pretty mental at the Uni parties. It should be a great night.”

  “Yeah, I have no idea why they would want us to wear red. It’s going to look like a pulsating artery in there tonight,” Jenny says, looking down at her dress and smoothing her hand over th
e skirt.

  “I think it will look awesome,” Kensi adds.

  “Here you go,” Aaron says, as he slides into the bench seat next to me and places a basket of hot chips in between us. The others pinch a few too, and we all chat for a while until it’s time for us to play.

  “Aaron Stevens and Etta Davis.”

  “We’re up,” he says, nudging me in the arm.

  “Don’t expect any miracles,” I warn him. “I’m really not that great.”

  We get handed our cues by someone who I’m assuming is a helper of the event.

  “Head or Tails?” he asks, holding a coin on the edge of his thumb. “Winner gets to break.”

  “Ladies choice,” says one of the guys from the other double.

  “Heads,” I call, with a bounce of my shoulder.

  The helper flicks his thumb up and sends the coin flying in the air as we all watch until it lands on the green felt with a light thud.

  “Heads it is!” he calls.

  Grinning triumphantly I high-five Aaron, before heading to the top of the table to start. Leaning forward, I slide my cue over my fingers as I aim at the white ball. With a short burst, I thrust the wooden pole forward, hitting the ball so it breaks apart the neatly arranged solid and striped balls.

  “Great work!” Aaron whoops as a cheer breaks out around us. Somehow I managed to sink six balls and can choose whether we are playing for the striped balls or the solid coloured balls.

  “Stripes,” I call, taking aim at the blue ten that is clearly able to be hit into the pocket.

  After sinking another four balls, I finally miss one. The crowd groans, and claps, shifting their attention to the other team as their first player takes aim.

  “You’re good,” Aaron murmurs behind my ear. “All these years, I’ve missed out on having you as a partner.”

  “Thank you,” I smile, leaning on the cue as I wonder if there is a double meaning behind his comment.

  “Although I have to admit, I’m kind of disappointed. I was hoping I’d have to show you how to play.”

  A grin creeps across my face as his hands slip around my waist. “I’ll just have to settle with being forward then,” he adds.

  A delicious warmth creeps over my body, beginning where his arms are and spreading until I feel my cheeks heat. I lean back against him slightly, as he rests his chin on my shoulder and observe the game taking place in front of us.

  I let out a disappointed sigh when our opponent’s next shot misses. Now it’s Aaron’s turn, which means he’ll need to let go.

  Taking the cue from my hands, he picks up the blue cube of chalk and rubs it over the tip, blowing lightly on it to remove the excess. He does a bit of a walk around the table as he decides which ball to go for. As he leans forward to take his shot, I can’t help but observe the way his jeans tighten over his arse and bite my lip, feeling a little like a lioness in heat.

  “I’m pretty sure your father won’t be too impressed with those thoughts you’re having,” Damien says from behind me. I can’t even say that he startled me, as just before he spoke, that pickling sensation crept over my skin again. It’s as if I expected him, and now, here he is…

  “What are you doing here?” I ask over my shoulder, without turning my head.

  “Watching you,” he whispers close to my ear, causing me to stiffen slightly, unsure as to whether he’s teasing me or not.

  “Are you watching me for fun? Or did my father send you here to spy on me?” I ask, trying not to let myself turn around and look at him.

  “Your dad just wants you safe Henrietta. You can’t blame him for worrying,” he says so softly, I’m the only one who could possibly hear him.

  “Don’t you have a job or something to go to?” I deflect, finally turning my head to look at him, but missing him entirely as he switches sides.

  A low chuckle rumbles in my ear, sending chills skittering, deliciously through my body. “It’s possible this is a pure coincidence. I’m a student here Henrietta. Perhaps my being here, isn’t about you after all…”

  I roll my eyes slightly and huff out my breath before turning my head to tell him to back off. But when I turn, he’s gone, and I’m left wondering if I imagined the whole exchange.

  Chapter 6

  “Who knew that Etta here, would be the reason we finally win that bloody pool comp?” Karl laughs. “We’ve been getting guys to team up with us, when all we needed was a good lookin’ sheila.” He stretches his leg out between the train seats as we ride a Tangara to Parramatta station so we can attend the Scarlet Party at the World Bar. The carriage is full of students from our university, all dressed in Red and all slightly buzzy from some pre-party drinks. Even I’m feeling a little buzzed after drinking three vodka mixes over the last couple of hours.

  “Karl! You’re not in Orange anymore - don’t call girls ‘sheilas’. Especially ones who are obviously a lot classier than the girls you’re used to being around,” Jenny points out.

  “Don’t bag out Orange chicks, it’s not like Penrith is a huge step up in this world,” he responds haughtily.

  “What’s the issue with Orange chicks?” Jeremy asks from next to Kensi. He’s joined us to go to the party, and she seems to have taken an immediate liking to him, making sure that she slid in the seat at just the right time so she could flirt with him more easily.

  I smile and listen as the debate rages on about the virtues – or lack thereof – of Western Sydney versus Country girls, rolling my eyes occasionally when the points get too silly. I’m sitting next to Aaron, his arm resting on the top of the seat behind me, just close enough to brush against my skin as the train jostles us about. It seems as though a grin has been placed firmly upon my face. Silently, I thank my mother for getting my dad to let me out tonight.

  Oh, and I guess I should thank Damien a little too. After all, he did convince my father I could take care of myself. Damien is in the same carriage, but he’s not sitting with us, nor is he wearing red. He’s head to toe black again, as he sits next to the stair well with a couple of his friends and that girl, Bec. I don’t know why, but I really dislike her. I think it’s the way she looks at me – like I’m beneath her or something.

  We all walk in a massive group up Church Street until we arrive at the bar. For a while we need to wait in line. I find it amusing as passers-by turn their heads at the wall of red clad party goers that weaves up the street, waiting to get inside.

  The moment we step through the doors, we’re enveloped in the thumping beat of the room. It’s not only the music, but the energy in here too. Everyone is excited and ready for a good time.

  “Drinks?” Karl yells over the music, tilting his hand toward his face in the ‘drinkie drinkie’ motion.

  Aaron takes my hand and guides me toward a table as Karl and Daniel go and get everyone some of the discounted drinks. For the next hour, we all sit around the table, initially sharing chairs until we loosen up a bit and girls start to make their way onto boys’ laps as the alcohol continues to flow. Before I know it, I’ve lost count. Everyone wants to shout me a drink to celebrate my eighteenth, and I’m really feeling it.

  When I watch Kensi drag Jeremy onto the dance floor, I decide that’s exactly what I want to do too.

  “Dance with me,” I yell over the music, tugging on Aaron’s hand. Smiling, he follows me onto the dance floor as I bounce around, swaying to the music.

  He pulls me toward him, swaying along with me. “Are you having a good time?” he asks next to my ear.

  “Yeah. The best,” I grin, sliding my arms up around his shoulders, my head fuzzy and my vision slightly blurred. “You’re very tall,” I comment, the thought coming to me suddenly. “I like that you’re tall.”

  “And you’re a little drunk,” he laughs.

  “Me? No, I’m just really happy. You’re the one who’s drunk,” I say, trying not to trip over my words as my lips lose their feeling.

  “It’s true. I’m pretty fucking smashed actually.�
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  “I’m not smashed. I’m just really happy,” I say again, as if it’s the first time I’ve come out with it.

  He laughs at me. “I’m happy too. Although, do you know what would make me really happy?”

  I look at him and bounce my shoulders, wanting to know the answer.

  “This,” he says, as he stops dancing and takes my face into his hands. He tilts his head down toward me and I feel small. I feel gloriously small.

  As our lips collide, my insides melt. I’ve never lost my attraction toward Aaron, and to have him kissing me again, feels wonderful, like I’m revisiting a favourite holiday destination. I can’t tell you how long Aaron and I dance and make out for, but eventually we come up for air.

  “Do you want another drink?” he asks.

  “Definitely,” I agree. “I’ll meet you at the bar. I need to visit the ladies room first.”

  “Sure thing,” he smiles, kissing me briefly before heading back toward the bar.

  As I push my way through the crowd toward the bathrooms, my head starts spinning. I touch my hand to my forehead, suddenly not feeling so good.

  Slamming my hand against the door, I step through before realising that I’ve exited into a back alley. There’s not a huge amount of lighting out here and my drunken mind is struggling to focus.

  But I’m sure I see people. People fighting.

  “What the hell?” I question, as I step a little closer. There’s a lot of yelling going on as a group of about twenty people stand around cheering and shouting at whoever is in the centre of their makeshift circle.

  My curiosity draws me closer, and I peer over the shoulder of a young guy with dark curly hair, gasping when I see Damien in the middle, his shirt off, muscles glistening in the heat of the night, as he stands there, poised and alert. Four other guys are charging him, fierce expressions on their faces as they attack.

  I push forward, my intoxicated mind thinking that he needs help and that somehow, I am capable of giving it. The group seems to have coordinated their attack and split into two, grabbing at his arms on both sides.