Struggle to Forever: a friends to lovers duet

by Lilliana Anderson

  I optimistically ran my fingers up and down his back and gripped him with my internal muscles, hoping to bring him back to life like I had with Jeff so many times before. But when he rolled onto his back suddenly, the guttural sound of his snoring made me realise it was all over. I was so disappointed, and for the first time since he threw me out. I missed Jeff. I missed what we had together before things turned sour.

  It was incredibly hard to sleep as I was so close to tears. Hatred was too busy boiling around inside of me. I hate what I just did. I hate my reasons behind it. I hate my life, and even more, I hate myself.

  ‘Bad people’ don’t do bad things because they want to—well, not in the beginning, anyway—they do bad things out of necessity. Then it spirals out of control and they become bad people. I think that's the point where I am now. I've done a lot of bad shit. And it wasn’t until this morning when I woke up and realised I have to keep having crappy sex if I want to keep this roof over my head that it dawned on me—I’ve stepped over the line. I'm a bad person now. I'm a thief. I’m a liar. I'm a user. I'm the one who wants something now.

  Looking over at the still sleeping Ed, I try not to disturb him as I slide out of the bed and pick up my clothes. I need to shower my shame away.

  He wakes as I’m wriggling into my dress.

  “Hey,” he says groggily. “Hope you’re not trying to sneak out on me.”

  “No, I’d never do something like that,” I laugh uneasily, even though I was contemplating doing just that. But then where would I go? “I’m just going to the bathroom.”

  “Hurry back,” he says, smiling as he leans up on his elbow to look at me properly. In the light, he’s quite handsome with his dark hair messed up from sleep and his features soft for the same reason. I feel a slight affection for him and nod my head. Now I need to make him feel so special he never wants me to leave. Do I act like a hooker or a girlfriend for that? It’s something Jeff left out of my training. So, I'll have to play it by ear.

  When I make it to the bathroom, I relieve myself and then check my reflection in the mirror. I wish now that I’d collected my bag from the night club because the bruise on my cheek is visible since my makeup has worn off.

  In an attempt to look presentable, I brush my teeth with some paste on my finger and use some wet tissue and soap to clean my face, then rake my fingers through my hair to calm the wild curls.

  “That’ll have to do,” I say to my reflection when I’m done, although I wish I had something to cover the bruise. It's yellow and faded, but still noticeable.

  For a while, I just stare at myself, taking in the person that I am now. I’m looking at a girl, who last night, stole someone’s name and possessions, and then gave herself freely for the sake of a bed.

  Is this the kind of person I want to be? I briefly wonder if maybe I should go and find a brothel that’ll hire me. At least then I’d get paid for what I just did. But the mere thought of selling my body for actual cash seems wrong to me.

  As much as I hate what I just did, I can at least reason that I was attracted to Ed. That I chose to sleep with him. I still have a small amount of power in my life. It might not be much, but it’s still there.

  Leaving the bathroom, I run almost headfirst into Ed’s housemate. I recognise him from the club. And he's even better looking this morning. Still uncomfortably intense though.

  “Morning.” I nod as I peer up at his face. The hallway is narrow, and I need him to move so I can get past.

  A frown creases his brow as his eyes move over me. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-two,” I answer immediately, trying to hold his gaze steady so he can’t see the nerves shooting through my body, making me sweat.

  “What happened to your face?”

  I smile and try to play coy. “Well, that’s not what a girl wants to hear first thing in the morning.”

  He lets a short laugh out of his nose and reaches up to move my hair. “Your face is bruised. What happened?”

  The moment his fingers touch my skin, I suck in my breath. It’s…electric. And there’s something about the way he’s looking at me that makes me feel like he can see right through me.

  “N-nothing happened. Can I get past now, please?” I’m struggling to find my voice.

  He stares at me and keeps me trapped for a moment longer, then he steps aside. Just enough to let me through, although I have to press against his body before I’m free.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Uh, it’s um… L-linda,” I stammer.

  “Matthew.”

  Fleetingly I look at him, avoiding his eyes before I nod and make my way back to Ed’s room. As I slide inside, I glance back. Mathew is still there, watching me as he casually leans against the wall. I drop my eyes and close the door, resting my hand against it for a moment as I gather my thoughts.

  I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. That guy is intense.

  “Hey you. Come over here.” Ed beckons, and I turn around to face him. He holds out his hand as I walk towards him then he pulls me onto the bed so I have to climb onto him and straddle his legs.

  Immediately, I feel his arousal. He slides his hand either side of my face and pulls me towards him, touching our lips briefly before taking my mouth in his to give me one of his luxurious kisses.

  The hooker it is.

  “Lie back,” I whisper, taking my cue. As he does, I pull my dress over my head and drop it onto the floor beside us. “Condom?”

  “Side drawer.”

  I pull one out and slide it over his erection. Using his tip, I glide him against my opening and then my clit, rubbing it back and forth and moaning slightly as my own arousal builds.

  He’s eager and pulses his hips up, trying to slide inside me.

  “Not yet,” I whisper, my voice all breathy as I continue.

  Groaning, his hands travel up to cup my breasts, and he pulses up again. This time, I slide down his shaft and grip him tightly before sliding back up.

  “Oh wow,” he moans, his eyes rolling back as pleasure starts to steal away his focus.

  I take his hand away from my breast and guide it between my legs, showing him how to rub at my swollen nub.

  “Oh yeah, right there,” I whisper as he starts to get the hang of it, he tries to slide his finger back to rub closer to my opening, but I hold onto his hand and keep him circling my clit. “Oh!” I cry out as my orgasm starts to build. It’s as if the sexual frustration from the night before is sitting just below my surface, desperate to escape.

  “God!” he calls out, pushing himself firmly into me as he orgasms before me. Again.

  He pulls his hands back and grips me by the hips, grinding us both together while my orgasm evaporates into the ether.

  Sitting up beneath me, he brings his mouth to mine and kisses me. “Nice way to wake up,” he whispers.

  “Hmmm,” I answer smiling. I climb off him and he removes his condom, shotting it into the wastepaper bin before turning towards me and pulling me into a spoon.

  As he kisses me softly on my shoulder, I wonder if this is my punishment for using people. Perhaps now I’ll have a life without climax. I guess that will serve me right.

  Eighteen

  After spending most of the day in bed with Ed—still without orgasm—he drives me back to the nightclub to collect my things. He says he’ll wait for me outside and drive me home after, but I of course, decline. There’s no home to drive me to.

  I guess I hoped he’d want me to stay longer. I hoped he wouldn’t even suggest that I go home. I hoped he’d see me for the willing body I am. I hoped he'd use me for his own gain the way I wanted to use him for mine.

  Perhaps I’m not as good in bed as I thought I was.

  As he pulls up to the curb outside the nightclub, he leans across the console and presses his lips to mine. “I had a really great time last night… and today of course.”

  I run my fingers through the thickness of his stubble. It’s practically a
beard this morning. “Me too, Ed. Thanks for everything.” Pressing my lips against his once more, I move away and get out of the car.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait and drive you home?”

  I don’t have a home. Every time he says that word it stabs at me. I bite my lip and wonder if I should tell him.

  “I um…”

  He sees my hesitation and shakes his head slightly. “Listen, if you don’t want to see me again, then just say so OK? I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

  “No, it’s not that at all,” I attempt to explain. He gets out of the car and moves to stand in front of me.

  “Linda, last night was really unusual for me. I don’t normally pick up girls and take them home on the first night.”

  I look down at my feet. “That’s actually the first time I’ve ever done that as well.”

  “It doesn’t have to be one night. I feel wrong dropping you off in your clubbing clothes and then leaving you to make your way home on your own. Please let me drive you. I won’t try to come inside. But if you give me your number, I will call you to see you again next week.”

  “I um…” God, just say it, Paige!

  “You what?” My mouth opens, and I don’t know how to say the words. This is the first time I’ve actually needed to say it. Everyone else I’ve told my story to already knew I was homeless. I’ve never had to blurt it out before. It makes me feel like I’m begging.

  When I don’t respond, he takes a step back and spins his car keys around his finger and catches them with a loud clink. “Just forget it then,” he says, looking away.

  “No, Ed.” I grab his arm. “It’s because you can’t take me home.”

  “Why? Why can’t I take you?”

  “Because… because I don’t have one.”

  “You what?”

  “I don’t have a home. So you can’t take me there. I’m homeless. Are you happy now?” I cry, turning away and covering my face with my hands.

  “I’m sorry, Linda.” He places his hand on my shoulder. “I had a feeling something was wrong. Don’t cry. Please.”

  “It’s fine.” I wipe at my tears and turn back to him. “Just let me get my stuff, and I’ll be on my way.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll figure something out. I always do.”

  He works his lips together and it's like I can see his mind turning over, coming to the conclusion I hoped he would all along. “Don’t go off on your own. Come back with me. You can spend another night, and maybe… we can figure something out together?”

  “Really?” Oh my God. It worked.

  “Absolutely. I can’t leave you knowing you have nowhere to go. What kind of a man would that make me?”

  I wrap my arms around his neck gratefully. “Thank you.”

  With his hands on my waist, he pulls away from me a little and looks into my face, his eyes lingering on the bruise. I can tell he wants to ask me what happened, but he just nods toward the club entrance and tells me he’ll wait for me while I get my stuff.

  When I go inside there’s a young guy manning the coat check. His name tag tells me he’s ‘Braden’.

  “Hey.” He nods at me. When he smiles, his cheeks produce two sideways dimples. Which in turn makes me want to smile right back.

  “Hi, I ah, left my bag and jacket here last night.”

  “No worries. Do you still have your token?”

  I hand him the little disc and pin, and he takes it from me then turns around to look through the shelving. I like watching him. He’s probably around the same height as me, but his movement is very fluid. It’s almost graceful.

  He has light brown hair that’s shaved close to his scalp on one side and flops straight down to the base of his ear on the other side, which really suits his fine features and dark eyes.

  “Here you go,” he says handing me my backpack and jacket. “Must have been a fun night last night if you forgot all this.”

  I laugh. “It was all right. Thanks, Braden.”

  “Anytime. See you next time you forget your stuff.”

  Nodding and smiling, I walk towards the exit and wave good-bye. I overhear Ed on the phone. “Deal with it,” he snaps before realising I’m walking towards him. “Listen, I have to go.” He disconnects the call and stuffs the phone into his pocket. “You got everything?”

  “Yeah. Thanks for waiting,” I say, as I walk around to the passenger side of the car. “Thanks for this as well, Ed. I know we just met. But this is huge.”

  He nods, and we get into his car.

  “So how long have you been on your own?”

  “A little over a year now,” I tell him, explaining briefly that I didn’t get along with my parents, and they kicked me out because of it. I don’t want to tell him the whole story. He still thinks I’m Linda.

  “Really? Where have you been staying?”

  “Well, first it was friends, then it was wherever I could find, and then with more friends. When I have some money I stay in cheap motels.”

  “What about that bruise on your face. Do you want to tell me who hit you?”

  “Not really.”

  “I wish you would.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  When we arrive back at his place, Matthew is sitting in front of the television and barely even glances in our direction. He doesn’t seem very happy to see me. The most he does is look at my backpack and roll his eyes.

  I lean toward Ed and whisper. “If this is a problem, I can work something else out.”

  “No. It’s fine. Isn’t is Matt?”

  “Yeah. Whatever.”

  I excuse myself and go to shower. I’m thankful I have somewhere to stay for now. But I can’t allow myself to get comfortable again. I made that mistake last time. I need to view this as a temporary situation and make plans to do something to take care of myself. Especially considering Ed’s housemate seems to hate me.

  Nineteen

  Six months faking it with Ed

  Happy birthday to me.

  I’ve turned seventeen.

  But nobody knows it.

  They think I’m twenty-three.

  Well, twenty-two actually. Linda's birthday isn’t for another couple of months, and since I'm still pretending to be her, the only birthday celebration I get is when I’m looking in the mirror, whispering my little song.

  “Happy birthday, Paige,” I say to my reflection, keeping my voice low to I can't be overheard. It’s not easy becoming someone else. I've had to put Paige in the mirror and leave her there, learning to respond to a different name and come from a different background. I probably could have told Ed the truth about who I am on that first day. But if I told him my age, I doubt he would have been so willing to keep me around. I’m the only one who knows who Paige is anymore. And even that's a bit of a stretch. I think I've lost myself. Somewhere in the middle of all this deceit, I’ve lost sight of who I am, the girl in the mirror.

  Life with Ed is… simple. He’s some sort of engineer and works in the city Monday to Friday. He’s gone from about seven-thirty every morning and doesn’t get home until after six at night. Then he’s exhausted and all he really cares about is eating and watching TV before taking me to bed so I can service him. I say it like that because he still hasn't shown any interest in learning about how to get me off. But since I’m his girl now, I don’t want to complain. Fights make relationships end. I can't afford for this to end. So it's easy enough for me to just get myself off when he falls asleep. I can be very discreet.

  Outside the bedroom, Ed is as good as it gets. He’s a textbook perfect boyfriend. It seems as though he’s decided it’s his mission in life to take care of me. He likes having me at home waiting for him each day. He’s kind. He’s caring. He’s considerate. It pains me to understand that he cares more for me than I do for him. That’s how I know I’m a bad person now. Because I keep doing this anyway.

  “Don’t you work?” Matthew asks wh
en he walks into the lounge room where I’m sitting reading. It almost lunch time and he’s just waking up since he worked late last night. His dirty blonde hair is sticking up all over the place, and he’s wearing only a long pair of pale blue pyjama pants that tie with a drawstring and ride low on his hips.

  As easy as things are between Ed and me, they're equally as tense between Matthew and me. He’s about a year into his residency at The Royal Prince Alfred Hospital and works obscenely long hours and different shifts. Sometimes, I barely see him. Sometimes he has a few days off in a row, and we’re in the house together all day.

  He hardly speaks to me. I feel as though he’s either glaring at me or pretending I’m not here. I find him unsettling but not frightening. I try to be polite and talk to him when I can though, because if I’m going to stay with Ed, I need his friend to like me.

  “Ed likes me home,” I reply, swallowing hard as my eyes travel over his well-defined chest involuntarily. He pauses in front of me, frowning like my answer left a sour taste in his mouth. Wow. He has great abs. My cheeks flame, and I drop my gaze, embarrassed about the thoughts flashing through my mind at the sight of his naked torso. He even has a sexy little snail trail going on. Shit. Look away.

  When I shift my gaze to the window, he shakes his head. “If you had a job, it might fix that homeless problem you have. You wouldn't need to keep sponging off Ed.”

  My mouth drops open. “I’m not a sponge. I just told you, he wants me at home."

  “Home.” He sits next to me, and I move back slightly, afraid of having him so close since the last time we touched set my nerve endings on fire. “This is my home too.”

  “I’m trying to stay out of your way.”

  "I've noticed. I’ve also noticed Ed is blind when it comes to you. I don’t know what you’ve told him, but I’m not buying it. You’re not being honest.”