Give Me Strength

by Kate McCarthy

  Travis stood and my cheeks heated at the obvious bulge he was adjusting in his pants.

  I tried not to look. “Maybe you shouldn’t go out there with uh, that.”

  He winked. “That is not gonna go down if I stay in here. I’ll leave you to your stuff, but tomorrow night you’re all mine. I’ll pick you up at six.”

  “You mean like a…date?”

  Travis gave me a short nod.

  I’ve never been on a date before. Even with Ethan, most of our time together had been spent at his house, at the beach, or at school.

  His eyes widened and I cringed. “Did I just say that out loud?”

  “Uh huh.” He reached the door and opened it, letting the wild beat of music pump through. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to make it good for you,” he said with a wink and shut the door behind him.

  I shivered and practised deep breathing for several moments. Minutes later, the door flew open and Mac strode through. She eyeballed the walls of the dressing room with exaggerated fashion. “If these four walls could talk, I bet they’d have a lot to say, but unfortunately they can’t.” She shook her head in mock sadness before narrowing those knowing eyes on me. “So spill.”

  “How do you even know?”

  “Because my brother came back all tight lipped, but his eyes were telling me a different story.”

  “Oh? What story was that?”

  “The same story they told when he was twelve and got the cadet go-kart he’d been hounding our parents about since he was eight.”

  I averted my eyes because if she saw all that in his, imagine what she saw in mine?

  I woke the next morning to shouts from downstairs and dogs barking in the yard, telling me the duplex was already heaving with activity. This wasn’t unusual—what was unusual was that I still couldn’t get used to it. Living here was loud and noisy, and if you wanted to be heard, you had to throw yourself into the fray and start yelling. I wasn’t quite at the yelling stage yet, but I was getting there, particularly when I found my favourite, freshly washed, pink lace pillow covers gracing Henry’s bed. He’d simply shrugged at me and said he didn’t care if they were pink; they smelled nice. Frog was always hogging the couch and the remote, making me miss my reality television shows. The season finale of The Voice was on just the other night, and I had no idea who won. Cooking dinner was something I’d found myself doing more often than not and cooking, for sometimes up to six or more people at a time, involved planning. One night I gave up and just cooked poached eggs on toast which didn’t appear to bother anyone.

  Slipping on a pair of sweatpants and a plain fitted tank top, I scraped my hair into a ponytail as I jogged down the stairs. Mac and Henry were on the couch along with Evie, all eating identical bowls of Coco Pops and watching music videos.

  “‘Bout time you woke up, you lazy asshead,” Mac mumbled around a crunchy mouthful.

  I rubbed at my eyes. “What’s the time?”

  “Early,” Henry growled. “Thanks to Evie.” He elbowed her in the arm and a trickle of milk sloshed over the rim of her bowl and into her lap.

  Evie narrowed her eyes. “If you elbow me one more time, you’re going to be wearing my breakfast on your face.”

  Henry made an “oooh I’m scared” face while she brushed the milk droplets from her jeans. I curled up in the armchair, and Rufus let out a whine from the back door. Peter was standing in front of him scratching at the glass as though zombies were on the attack and they needed inside to live.

  “I should feed Rufus.”

  “Done,” Mac announced.

  “Oh.” I smiled at her. “Thanks, Mac.”

  “Yeah, well. I can be nice.”

  Evie let out a shout of laughter, and Mac narrowed her eyes. “I’m letting you stay here, aren’t I?” she said to Evie.

  “Stay?” I echoed.

  “Rats,” Evie supplied with a shudder.

  “Rats?”

  Evie nodded. “There’s a rat family living in our house at Bondi. They have a camp at ground zero. I saw it when Jared ripped up the floorboards. It’s not pretty. They have tents and sleeping bags and some sort of hi-tech equipment that tells them when we’re in bed trying to sleep because they start scurrying from base camp into the ceiling as though it’s the holy grail of all places to have fun. I’ve tried to tell Jared that the whole house needs a wrecking ball, not a renovation, but he just looks at me like I’m the idiot.”

  “You are an idiot,” Mac retorted. She clanked her spoon into her now empty bowl and stood up.

  “Anyway…” Evie ignored Mac “… Jared and I are here for a couple of days while the place is being fumigated for every pest that ever lived.”

  “You’re the biggest pest that ever lived,” Mac shouted from the kitchen as she rinsed her bowl and set it on the sink. “Why aren’t they fumigating you?”

  Evie twisted in her seat and glared at Mac. “What the fuck, Mac? Someone steal your favourite shoes?”

  Mac grinned and tossed the tea towel she’d been drying her hands with on the bench. “My shiny red slingbacks are just fine, thank you very much. I’m just in a good mood about Melbourne.”

  After informing Mac in the dressing room about the festival booking, she’d still managed to wrangle the date details out of me as though I’d already been plied with her malevolent mojitos.

  The date.

  My God.

  Had I actually agreed to it? I shook my head. No. He’d told me we were going on a date, not asked me. There was no opportunity to say no. Would I have been able to say no anyway? I shook my head again. When Travis was in my space, all sense went flying out the window. Mac had been excited, even after telling me we’d gone about it all ass backwards—sleeping with each other and then going on a date weeks later but I could sleep at night knowing she approved of my ‘ballsy tactics.’

  Finished with my internal conversation, I pushed out of the chair and stood up, stifling a yawn. “I need to get started on organising the Melbourne trip.”

  Mac returned to the living room and flopped onto the couch. “Rubbish. It’s your day off. I’ll do it.”

  “But I don’t have anything else going on,” I said over my shoulder while wandering into the kitchen. I opened the fridge and examined the barren, sad looking shelves. “Maybe I could do a food shop then?”

  “Sandwich and Henry are doing the shop today,” she announced loudly because Henry was holding down the volume button on the remote until the sound breached decibel regulations.

  “So what am I supposed to…” My voice trailed off as an almighty knock thundered at the door, and it swung open before anyone could move to answer it. A petite, dark-haired guy no taller than I was came barging in.

  Mac smirked at me over her shoulder. “You’re going shopping.”

  “What?”

  “You’re going shopping,” she yelled.

  “Just come on in, Tim,” Evie said to the little guy with obvious sarcasm.

  He huffed and flung himself in the armchair I’d just vacated. “Lord knows I’d be fucking grey with one foot in the grave before you got off your fat backside to answer it. No point in wasting the day.”

  “This is Tim, Quinn,” Evie called out. “He works reception for Jamieson and Valentine Consulting. Oh, and he talks more crap than a politician, so don’t believe a word he says.”

  “Oh, you are just too funny, Evie,” Tim replied. His brown eyes, fringed in the prettiest lashes I’d ever seen on a guy, found their way to mine. “Quinn, my new best friend,” he said with a glare aimed at Evie. He came over to the kitchen to shake my hand, Mac hot on his heels.

  “So what’s going on with you and Travis? He’s my boss you know, and hot, so it’s my right as your new best friend to get all the details.”

  Mac took hold of my hand as though to yank me away, and Tim grabbed my other hand, narrowing his eyes on Mac. “Back off, Mac. I was here first, only polite enough not to muscle her into the pantry like your usual M.O.”
<
br />   I had to give the little guy credit for having the balls to stare Mac down. I’m not sure who won because the front door slammed, and Jake wandered through into the kitchen, eyeing our odd little clinch with raised brows before opening the fridge. Mac shoved me into the walk-in pantry, Tim right behind us, and wedged the door shut.

  The three of us stood there in the dark, panting a little at the scuffle. I heard a muffled sound and a dim light clicked on before flickering off again.

  “Shit. The bulb blew.”

  “So Quinn and Travis have a thing,” Mac announced as we stood in the dark. “That’s why you’re here, Tim. Quinn has a date tonight and needs outfitting, and I need to get Melbourne organised so it’s in your hands.”

  “Mac, it’s the movies. I’m sure I have something suitable.”

  “No you don’t,” she replied without hesitation.

  “Why are we wedged in the pantry?”

  “Because Jake’s out there and he’s pissing me off.”

  “But he only just walked in the door.”

  “Exactly,” she growled.

  “This little pantry summit is directed at the wrong person,” Tim decided. “Seems to me that if Quinn and Travis are going on a date, they’re well on their way to getting shit together. What’s going on with you and Jake?”

  I’d been wondering this myself, so I waited with interest to hear her response.

  “No comment,” Mac snapped.

  “Ha! We all know no comment is euphemism for shit is going on. Right, Quinn?”

  I could hear the withering tone in Tim’s voice and replied, “We do?”

  “Shove your euphemisms where the sun don’t shine, Timmy boy.”

  “Don’t call me Timmy boy,” he snapped.

  The pantry door flew open, light flooding the little space and I blinked rapidly, bringing Lucy into focus. “What’s going on in here?”

  “Pantry summit,” Tim offered, squinting in the sudden light.

  Lucy glared. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Tim.” He raised his brows and looked Lucy up and down. “And who are you? By the attitude I’m going with Mac’s long lost sister, but you look nothing alike.”

  “Watch it, Tim.” Mac shoved past him and he stumbled, grabbing hold of the pantry door to gain his balance. “I’ll be in the back office.”

  “I’m Lucy, Quinn’s friend. I’m here to take her shopping.”

  “Me too and me too. I’m going to make a cuppa. Anyone want one?”

  Everyone chorused a “yes please,” and he mumbled, “figures,” as he trotted back into the kitchen.

  “It’s just the movies, Luce,” I told her as we sat down in the living room where Evie was now splayed out on her own. “It’s no big deal.”

  “You never date,” she told me, perching on the end of the armchair. “Of course it’s a big deal.”

  Evie’s eyes shifted from the television to me. “You don’t date?”

  “Enough. No more talk about the date or shopping.” I pursed my lips and focused on the television.

  Tim came over and plopped a mug on the table in front of me. “No idea if you wanted tea or coffee or how you have it, but hey, you didn’t have to make it.” Taking a step back, he put his hands on his hips, looking at me with wide-eyed hope. “So is Casey coming shopping too?”

  “Why would Casey be coming shopping?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Bodyguard duty. Don’t you all get escorted everywhere you go by hot badass guys when shit’s going down?”

  “Shit’s not going down,” Lucy informed him. “Shit is currently contained.”

  “Oh,” Tim muttered, his shoulders slumping as though disappointed that shit was not, in fact, going down.

  “Why are you so keen on Casey going?” Lucy asked.

  Tim looked at Evie and me in turn. “She hasn’t met Casey, has she?”

  We both shook our heads, Evie grinning.

  “Honey,” Tim said to Lucy, “Everyone says Casey looks just like Jensen Ackles,” he began. I bit the insides of my cheeks as Casey walked down the hall from the office and came to stand behind Tim. “But Casey is so fucking all that, he could have a show all his own and screw calling it Supernatural, you could call it Badassnatural because that guy is so fucking cool he was born an ice cube.”

  Silence reigned until Evie made a choking sound. Tim closed his eyes and I really, honestly, felt for him in that moment.

  “He’s ah, behind me, isn’t he?”

  Everyone did their best not to laugh, but I met Casey’s eyes and they were crinkling.

  Evie tossed a cushion at Casey. “Hear that, hotdog? You’re the man.”

  Casey showed off his lightning Badassnatural reflexes by deflecting the tossed cushion, and it bounced off Tim’s head as a final insult.

  Despite his face flaming brightly, Tim pursed his lips. “Takes a badass to know one.”

  Evie raised her brow. “I thought the first rule of being a badass was that you never talked about being a—”

  “Don’t start throwing rules in my face,” Tim interrupted.

  “Enough,” Casey growled and stooped to pick up the cushion and toss it back on the couch as Evie introduced him to Lucy.

  “I’ll leave you kids to it,” he muttered after nodding his hello and turned towards the front door. “I’m going home to sleep.”

  “So that’s a no to coming shopping with us today?” Tim called out.

  Casey threw an incredulous look over his shoulder as the front door swung wide and he stepped out, shutting it behind him without another word.

  ***

  “Stop fidgeting,” Mac hissed from behind me.

  I watched her fiddle a curl into submission as I stood in front of the mirror of the wardrobe door. Mac had a good foot of height on me, so her look of concentration as she tackled my wispy strands was easily visible. She grabbed the hairspray off the bench. “You and Evie could win awards for being fidget sticks.”

  “No spray!”

  She held it like a weapon aimed at my head and raised her brows as though I’d just said “death to shopping,” something I’d come to realise was her holy grail in life.

  “What?”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “But…” Mac trailed off.

  “Beth loved hairspray. The smell makes my stomach churn.” Not a strand of her hair dared to move when Beth tossed back her unending supply of booze.

  “Beth?”

  “My mother,” I mumbled.

  “Tell me about your mum.”

  “You saw the photos, right?” Mac paused her movements, her nostrils flaring dangerously. “I don’t have one. I never did, not really.”

  She set the hairspray down and looked at me through the mirror. “Your mother didn’t deserve you,” she said gravely and squeezed her arm around my shoulders. “Don’t let the bitch get you down.”

  The front door opened and closed when she went back to fussing with my hair, and from downstairs we heard Henry say, “Where are you taking her?”

  A deep murmur was the reply, and my belly fluttered.

  “Travis is here,” I muttered, examining my length in the mirror and my new outfit. If nerves hadn’t already exhausted me, a shopping trip with both Lucy and Tim was enough to send me running for a nicotine fix and I didn’t even smoke. Both of them had whacked ideas of what constituted an appropriate outfit for a trip to the movies. Lucy steered me towards everything that screamed “tramp/whore/here are my boobs in case you weren’t sure I had any attached to my chest.” Tim was aiming for glamour goddess, which was actually quite sweet, but I was no Evie. Shimmery backless tops and tight leather pants were a little beyond my reality. Between the three of us, we managed to settle on a pair of dark blue skinny jeans with side zippers, a pair of brown knee length boots, and a low back gold metallic top.

  “We want her back by midnight,” Cooper said.

  “What the fuck, dude,” came Frog’s reply. “She’s not Cinder-fucking-r
ella.”

  There was more low murmuring that had my ears straining to hear. Mac’s eyes met mine in the mirror after she’d finished glaring my strands of hair into submission, as though hopeful that would do the job hairspray couldn’t.

  “What are they doing down there?”

  Mac winked, her hands turning to her own head of hair as she smoothed the soft, gleaming waves. “Playing big brother it sounds like.”

  I clutched my hands together, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and slide on my boots. “They’re being silly.”

  Mac sat down beside me and slung an arm over my shoulders. “Do you have any brothers, Quinn?”

  “No.”

  “Wrong answer,” she replied.

  My vision blurred.

  “How about I go tell Travis to bugger off and we have a girls night in?”

  I huffed out a short laugh. “Did I do that bad a job on my face?”

  She nodded. “It’s terrible. Next time let me help you instead of locking your bedroom door. That was really unfair and now it’s your own fault because you look really shitty.”

  I chuckled and she looked at me sideways, grinning.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “I’ve never been on a date before. I need to just get this over with.”

  Mac jostled my shoulders. “Okay. Well first you need to relax. You look like you’re about to ralph all over your new boots.”

  There had been no polite, gentleman-like behaviour from Travis when it came to choosing the movie. We’d bickered over the offerings and ended up with something that involved wild shootouts, high tech gadgets, and fist fights. At one point I’d leaned over and joked that it was probably just his everyday life and he could write the movie. He’d chuckled and took hold of my hand, pulling it into his lap so our linked fingers rested on his thigh. He whispered in my ear that he should only be so lucky, and throughout the rest of the movie, he proceeded to pick apart the holes in the storyline.

  My mind had barely paid attention to any of it because he was holding my hand. Maybe I was just odd, or the dating thing too new, but the gesture felt more intimate than anything I’d ever done with another man in my life.