The Trouble with Flirting

by Rachel Morgan

  Isn’t it? says a small, needling voice at the back of my mind, reminding me of my short dress and my sexy smiles and my flirty glances.

  “No!” I glare at my reflection. It begins to wobble as tears fill my eyes. I take a deep breath and blink them away. I need to get out of here. Out of this bathroom and out of this house.

  I walk down the stairs on shaking legs. I hurry through room after room, lost for a while until I find the wide open space Allegra and I were first dancing in. The music’s still playing and drinks are flowing and an empty silver platter sits on a side table and everyone’s having a wild time.

  “Livi!” Allegra hurries over to me and pushes my purse—which I’d completely forgotten about until this moment—into my hands. “What the hell happened? People are saying you totally flipped out. That you, like, attacked Jackson.”

  “What? No, he—”

  “I saw his hands. They were bleeding.”

  “Listen, Allegra. It was an accident. We were in a corner, and he was … he was trying to …”

  Allegra’s eyes widen. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No, but he—”

  “Then what the hell, Livi? You don’t attack your boyfriend just for making out with you in a dark corner.”

  “It wasn’t just making out. It was—” I stop and take a deep breath. I don’t want to do this here. I don’t want to be here. “Can we please go home?”

  “Go home? Livi, the party’s just starting.”

  “Okay, but … I just … I think the party’s over for me.”

  Allegra takes my hand. “Come on, let’s go dance again. Just forget about Jackson and enjoy the dancing. And look what I got for you!” She opens her purse and produces a pink pill with a butterfly indentation stamped onto it. “You’ll definitely have fun after you take this.”

  I shake my head. “No. That isn’t going to help.”

  “Livi, just try it. I’ve also got one. We’ll take it together, and I promise it won’t be scary or—”

  “No! Aren’t you listening? I really need to go home.”

  Allegra looks around at the people throwing concerned glances our way. She tugs me to the edge of the room. “You are embarrassing me, Livi,” she says, loud enough that only I can hear her. “You need to stop being weird, okay? Just chill. Now, I’m going to give this to you.” She holds the pill up. “And you can either—”

  I lose track of what she’s saying as I start to feel lightheaded. Sweaty, nauseous, shaky. Flashing lights mix with images I don’t want to see. Jackson and his hands, Allegra and her hyena laughter. Drinking and flirting and drugs and—I DON’T WANT THIS.

  “NO!” I push dizzily past her. “I’m done with this. I’m done with all of this.” The walls seem to be tilting, but I manage to find my way outside. I lean against a car in the driveway and slowly take in gulps of cold air. The nausea subsides, but I can’t rid myself of the feeling that I’ve just lost my friend. My friend who feeds me drugs when I’m upset and won’t take me seriously when I try to tell her about a guy forcing himself on me. So it’s probably a good thing she’ll never want to speak to me again.

  My hands shake as I run them through my hair. How am I supposed to get home? I’ve never called a taxi before, and they probably cost more money than I have on me. No way am I calling Adam. Not after he told me not to come in the first place. Luke? Maybe he’s free.

  I pull my phone out and find his number. “Don’t cry,” I murmur to myself as I listen to the ringing. “Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.”

  Voice mail.

  My lip shudders. Tears well up. I stare at Adam’s name on my phone. I stare at it until the screen goes dark as I try to figure out what to say to him. I unlock the phone and press my thumb over his name. I listen to the ringing, ringing, ringing while half of me desperately hopes he’ll pick up and the other half hopes he doesn’t.

  He doesn’t. Another voice mail.

  This time the tears spill over onto my cheeks. I blink through them and check the time on my phone. It’s just before midnight, so Adam’s probably still at work. He did say he’d be finishing late tonight.

  Maybe I’ll just have to wait out here until he looks at his phone. But it’s getting cold, and tiny drops of rain are beginning to fall. I back up until I’m standing beneath the shelter of the entrance. I rub my hands up and down my arms. I don’t want to go back inside, not even to wait. I DO NOT want to come anywhere near this house ever—

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” a voice says as someone bumps into me. I scoot out of the way and see a guy with his arm around a girl. Another couple walks out of the house behind them.

  “Oh, that’s okay. Um, hang on.” I’m about to die of embarrassment inside, but I’m so fracking desperate, I have to ask. “Where are you guys heading? I kinda need a lift.”

  “Uh, Claremont,” the guy says.

  “Gotta get to the next party,” his date adds with a giggle.

  “Any chance you can drive by Rondebosch on the way?” I ask.

  The guy looks around at his friends for confirmation. The other guy shrugs. “Yeah, I think we’re sorta going that way.”

  “Awesome. Thank you so much.” Thank you thank you thank you.

  I climb into the back seat beside one of the couples, relief filling me with warmth as we drive away. I tilt my head back against the headrest, only to jerk it forward as music blasts suddenly from the speakers. The girl beside me laughs, then gets back to draping herself over the guy sitting on her other side. The music pounds, the couple won’t stop making out, and the driver pushes the car faster and faster and faster through the rain until I’m almost certain I’m not going to make it home alive.

  “Hey, Rick,” the girl beside me yells above the music. She unwinds herself from her boyfriend and leans forward with her phone in one hand. “Can you stop and pick up Jody from Tugwell?”

  Rick, whose driver’s licence should be confiscated before he kills a whole lot of people, nods.

  I cling to the car door and close my eyes.

  When we finally screech to a halt, I open my eyes and look out at the tall towers of Tugwell Hall. “Hey, chick in the back seat,” Rick says. “This close enough?”

  “Oh, um …” I lean forward. “Is it possible for you to drive just a little further down Main Road?” That still won’t get me all the way home, but at least I’ll be a bit closer.

  “Yeah, I guess I could.”

  “Rick, there isn’t going to be enough space,” the girl beside me complains. “Alice is coming with Jody, so there’ll already be four of us squashed in the back here.”

  “Well, where the hell are they? You said we’re here, right?”

  “Yes. They’re on their way.”

  Rick taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “I don’t see them.” The car jerks forward and speeds off down the wet road and through a red traffic light.

  “Rick!” the girl screeches.

  Rick slams on the brakes outside the Pick ’n Pay. “Okay, out you get,” he says to me.

  “Um, thank you,” I say as I fumble with the seatbelt and the door handle. I’ve barely slammed the door shut when the car takes off, kicking water up from the wet road. Two seconds later, the car speeds past me back towards Tugwell.

  I look down at the muddy water splashed across my feet. The satin fabric of my high-heeled shoes is probably ruined. Who the hell cares? I tell myself. You have bigger problems right now. I glance around briefly before clutching my purse tightly beneath my arm and hurrying along the sidewalk. All kinds of horrible things can happen to a girl walking alone in the middle of the night. I’ve heard the stories. I heard one just a few days ago about girl walking somewhere near campus who ended up stabbed and in hospital because somebody wanted her cell phone and—

  Stop. Don’t think about that. Just walk.

  The rain, which was a light drizzle up until now, begins to fall faster. Shivers raise the hairs on my skin. I wrap my bare arms around myself and hurry as
quickly as I can in these stupid shoes. I’m damp and cold and tired, and I can’t tell anymore if the drops running down my face are rain or tears or both. How much longer till I reach home? Two minutes? Maybe a bit—

  Are those footsteps behind me?

  Frack! Please let there not be anyone there. Please please please.

  I don’t want to look behind me. I need to move faster. I need to run.

  Take the shoes off. You’ll go faster if—No time! Just run!

  My heeled feet pound the uneven sidewalk. Sobs escape my lips. I’m only four houses away from my own now, but I keep expecting to feel a hand on my arm, or someone grabbing my waist, or—

  “Oh!” My right ankle twists as the heel of my shoe snaps. My flailing hands grasp at the air, catching onto the diamond shapes of a wire fence. I half-fall awkwardly onto my left knee, but it’s my right ankle that’s screaming at me. I look over my shoulder, but I don’t see anyone there. Did I imagine the footsteps?

  I kick my shoes off, grab my fallen purse, and use the fence to pull myself up. I hobble the rest of the way on bare feet, wincing and shivering and sniffing. I tug the gate open and slide it shut behind me, then stumble over to the broken motor and flip the switch off manual. I do not want whoever’s out there to walk through this gate as easily as I did. I don’t know if I imagined those footsteps, but I’m not taking a chance.

  I pull myself up the front steps and lean against the door, keeping my weight off my throbbing ankle as I remove my keys from my purse. I can’t see properly and my fingers are shaking and I can’t get the key into the lock and I’m about to start banging my fists on the door to wake Luke up—but then the key slides in. The door’s unlocked. I’m inside. The door’s closed.

  I’m safe.

  I collapse against the door, covering my eyes with my hand as I shake with silent tears.

  And then I hear something I didn’t expect to hear. Voices. And laughter. Freaking heck. Who the hell is chilling in our lounge? Luke doesn’t ever invite people over, and Adam’s still at work. Isn’t he? No. That’s definitely Adam’s laugh I just heard.

  DAMMIT! Why is he home? And why did he have to bring people with him? Why now? I can’t get anywhere in this house without walking past the lounge door, and whoever is in there does not need to see me like this. A hobbling, shoeless, dripping wet mess.

  Maybe if I can get past quietly and quickly enough, they won’t notice me. Right. Quietly and quickly. With a twisted ankle.

  I try anyway. I tell myself not to look up as I pass the door, but my eyes flick upwards anyway, just long enough to see Adam, his friend Hugo, the petite drummer girl from The Flying Monkey Train, and another girl I don’t recognise. Then I’m past the doorway. It only took about a second, but a lull in conversation tells me I was spotted.

  “Livi?” Adam calls out, his voice suddenly anxious.

  Crap. I hobble faster. My ankle screams some more. I make it to my room and slam the door shut.

  A second later, Adam taps against it. “Livi, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I shout.

  “Are you sure? You, uh, didn’t really look fine.”

  I press my lips together and decide not to answer. I don’t think I can say anything without my voice coming out wobbly.

  “Livi?”

  Just go away, just go away.

  “Liv, please. What happened?”

  I don’t want to talk about it.

  “Alivia, come on. You’re scaring me.” And he does sound scared. Helpless. Which is how I feel. “I’m coming in,” he says.

  The door opens, but I can’t meet his eyes. I stare at the floor. At my dirty, wet feet. At the graze I didn’t realise was on my knee. I wish he wasn’t seeing this. I wish he wasn’t standing there knowing he’s been right all along.

  “Liv,” Adam breathes. “What happened?”

  “Say it,” I whisper.

  “What?”

  “Say it!” I shout, still looking down. “Say that you told me so. Say that I should never have gone. Say that you were right.”

  “I—I don’t—Livi, are you hurt? Did someone … do something to you?”

  I shake my head and wrap my arms around myself. “He didn’t do something. He tried to do something, and if he ever tries to do it again, I’ll break his fracking hands. Not that he’ll have an opportunity to try anything in the future, because I don’t plan to go near him ever again.”

  Silence from Adam. Then he steps out of my room and walks away. I feel relieved, but empty. I hear the bathroom tap turning on, and moments later, Adam returns to my room with a towel. He tentatively places it over my shoulders. I take hold of the edges and pull it around me.

  “You, um, look cold,” he says. “I thought maybe you’d want to bath. I’ll run the water, then you can go, uh, when you’re ready. But maybe you should put ice on your ankle first. I’ll get some.”

  He hurries away, leaving me trying to remember if I said anything about my ankle. Maybe he saw me hobbling. Maybe my right foot looks fatter than my left foot.

  By the time Adam returns with ice blocks wrapped in a tea towel, I’m sitting on the floor.

  “I know you don’t really want to feel ice when you’re already so cold, but … it’ll help.”

  “Your friends,” I whisper as he fits the ice pack around my ankle. “I’m so embarrassed.”

  Adam forces a laugh. “Don’t worry about them. They didn’t really see much.”

  “I’m sorry I ruined your date.”

  “My—what?” Adam looks alarmed.

  “You said Hugo liked that drummer girl. And there’s another girl here. I thought maybe … a double date.”

  “Oh. No, no, no. We finished up earlier than we expected at Jazzy Beanbag because The Electric Goat turned out to be awful. So we came back here for a bit, but just as, like, a friend thing. Anyway, they’re on their way now. So … I’ll go finish running the bath. Then when you’re done, I’ll be in my room. If you want to talk. Or if you want to chill and watch series. Or if you just want to go to bed, that’s fine too.”

  “Adam?” I catch his hand as he stands to leave. “Thank you.”

  From: Alivia Howard

  Sent: Sat 5 Apr, 1:26 am

  To: Carl

  Subject: Dear Carl

  I miss you. If I asked, would you come and rescue me?

  ___________________________________

  From: Alivia Howard

  Sent: Sat 5 Apr, 15:17 pm

  To: Sarah Henley

  Subject: This is my moping face

  Dear Sarah

  Thanks for your call this morning. I should have known Adam would send you an SOS on my behalf! Once again, I’m really sorry for not coming home this holiday. I just can’t face my dad at the moment, and I think it might be better for him and my mom to have some time to work through things without me there. They have an appointment with a counsellor on Wednesday. My mom keeps threatening to not show up, but I think, in the end, she’ll go.

  I shall now do my best to follow your instruction to NOT MOPE. As you know, I’ve never been particularly good at moping, so NOT MOPING should be easy. No doubt I’ll find a distraction soon enough … Oh! Squirrel! (That was meant to be a distraction joke, but it’s kinda funny because Cape Town actually does have a lot of squirrels. Are you laughing? You’re not laughing? Okay. I chuckled. A real chuckle. But then, I’m not in the healthiest state of mind right now, so that could have been a crazy chuckle.)

  My new problem: I now have a total of zero girlfriends in this city, which means that if I’m looking for a distraction, I may be forced to drag Adam to the mall with me for some retail therapy. Or perhaps not. The mall is where I’m most likely to come across Allegra, who, being the wonderful person that she is, may try to feed drugs to me again.

  How did I manage to lose my friends, my boyfriend, and my popularity status in one night? (I’m not entirely cer
tain about the popularity status, but I think it probably shattered into hundreds of pieces along with the glass table I pushed Jackson into.)

  Wait, I think that paragraph counts as moping …

  Adam just came in and said I should go to the gym with him and Luke. Apparently endorphins will make me happy. Ugh, I’d rather pull my toenails out than exercise. No, wait, that sounds really painful. I don’t hate exercise that much.

  Okay, I’m going to gym.

  Missing you lots, my friend.

  xx Livi (not xx L, which is like XXL. How did I never notice that before?)

  ___________________________________

  From: Alivia Howard

  Sent: Sun 6 Apr, 13:21 pm

  To: Sarah Henley

  Subject: The gym bunnies on the bus go ‘ow, ow, ow’

  Okay, so I officially joined the gym. I must have been high on endorphins at the time, because when my alarm went off at 7:15 am this morning so I’d be at gym in time for an 8 am abs class, I couldn’t remember why I thought any of this exercise stuff was a good idea.

  1. It was way too early to think about getting up.

  2. My arms were aching from all the weights and machines I used yesterday.

  3. I have a twisted ankle! Why didn’t I wait till that’s better before joining the gym? Now the only exercises I can do involve abs and arms.

  I recited my list to Adam, who didn’t seem to care and dragged me out of bed anyway. Then when we got to gym and I told him I was too late for my class and would just get a smoothie and sit on a couch while I waited for him, he laughed in my face and made me exercise with him.