47 Things

by Lilliana Anderson

  By the time we got to the episode I was up to, I’d placed my head on his shoulder, and he adjusted on the couch and grabbed a cushion to place on his lap. “Lie down if you want.”

  I eyed the pillow dubiously. “Seriously?” I asked. “You want me to lie on your lap?”

  Frowning, he looked at the aqua coloured cushion on his lap then back at me. “What’s the problem?” he stated before his mouth curved slowly into a grin. “Sweetheart, you have a dirty mind. You said you normally watch TV until you fall asleep on the couch, so I'm assuming you like to watch it lying down. I’m just giving you a pillow. If you can’t be a grown up and this is a problem, I can sit on the floor.” His eyes questioned me as my cheeks burned from embarrassment. I was such an idiot sometimes.

  “I can be a grown up,” I said haughtily, sliding over a little before lying on my side and resting my head on his lap, with my legs propped on the edge of the couch to support my cast.

  “There you go, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” he teased, smoothing his hand over the side of my head to brush my curls away from my face.

  “No, but if I feel anything hard, I’m getting up and I’m going to bed,” I responded, causing him to chuckle before we turned our attention back to the show.

  After a while, he began stroking my hair the way he did at the bonfire, and as much as I wanted to see that final episode I’d missed the last time I fell asleep watching that series, his gentle movement was just too damn soothing. I passed out, and I doubt I looked as beautiful asleep as he had.

  ***

  “Don’t move me,” I moaned, as I felt myself being lifted. My arms reached up, and wrapped around his neck as if that was going to stop him from moving me.

  “I’m just carrying you to bed,” Tyler whispered, as he carried me the short distance from my couch to my room.

  “I don’t want to go bed,” I complained, tightening my grip around his neck as he lowered me down onto my soft mattress.

  He chuckled, and placed his hands on my upper arms, trying to get me to release him. “You’re already there,” he whispered. “You can let go now.”

  “I don’t want to let go,” I whispered urgently, feeling, in my half-conscious state, that if I did let go, then maybe he would never really have been here, maybe he left in the afternoon, and the whole evening was just a dream. “You’ll leave if I let go.”

  “No, I won’t, sweetheart,” he whispered, his warm hands moving to my waist as I clung to him, refusing to let go.

  “Yes you will. Everybody says you leave.”

  Slowly, he released his breath, and I felt his hands around me again as he shifted me into the middle of the bed and slid in beside me and pulled me up against his side, planting a soft kiss to the top of my head. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” he whispered with a sigh, as I slid my arm around his waist and tucked my head against his chest.

  7

  WHEN I woke up the next morning, I was alone in my double bed; in my sleep addled mind, I didn’t think anything of it at first and stretched my arms above my head whilst yawning contentedly, feeling as though I’d spent the night dreaming pleasant dreams. Then I sat up and noticed the indentations on the second set of pillows, and the memory of the night before began to return. It took me a moment to remember everything, but when I did, it was like realising I’d gotten drunk the night before and made a fool out of myself. I held on to him and wouldn’t let go until he got in bed with me? Dragging my pillow over my head, I let out a muffled groan. How embarrassing.

  Working up the courage to emerge from my room so I could use the bathroom and take a shower, I tried to act as normal as possible.

  “Sleep all right?” he asked, as I traversed the distance on my crutches. He was standing in the kitchen drinking some sort of healthy looking concoction from a tall glass wearing gym shorts and a quick dry tank top that showed off his muscular arms and made my mouth go a little dry. He needed to stop looking so good all the time.

  “Have you been out running or something?” I asked, noticing the sheen on his arms and the dampness of his hair. I’d bet he even smelled good after exercising.

  “Yeah, I was up pretty early. I like running while the sun’s coming up. It’s a bit more interesting that way. You want some?” he asked, tilting his glass toward me. It was a deep purple colour so I was assuming it was some sort of berry flavour, but god only knew what else he’d put in it.

  “Is it going to cleanse my system?” I asked in response.

  Chuckling, he nodded. “Most likely.”

  “Then you can keep it.”

  “Come on,” he grinned. “You can’t live on takeaway all your life. Try it. It’s actually nice.”

  “Nice as in all those Paleo people who say ‘try this almond meal biscuit, it’s so nice’ then you eat it and it tastes like dirt?”

  “No,” he laughed. “This actually tastes like berries.”

  Swinging my way over to him on my crutches, I stopped and took the glass from his hand, sniffing it slightly before I raised it to my lips. The entire time he was grinning, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he watched me nervously taste it.

  “Hmm, it’s just a berry smoothie,” I stated, licking my lips and handing him back the glass.

  “No witchcraft inside, just banana, mixed berries, yogurt and milk. I can make you one if you want?”

  “Why not,” I conceded, feeling a smile tug at the side of my lips. “I’m just going to take a shower first.”

  “Sure. You need help with the bag on your cast?”

  “No. I’ve got it,” I said, turning away from him. “What’s this?” I asked, noticing a note sitting on the table. It simply said that he’d gone for a run and would be back soon.

  “Oh, that was just in case you woke up and I was gone. I didn’t want you worried…” He let the sentence hang in the air, and I knew that he was referring to my whole ‘I don’t want you to go’ neck grab the night before.

  I closed my eyes, my stomach churning with embarrassment as I nodded then went into the bathroom, hoping the shower would wash my discomfort away. I can’t believe I was so disgustingly clingy. I wasn’t that girl before, why was I that girl now?

  ***

  When I emerged from the shower, our day went on like most did – study, exercise, food, conversation – there wasn’t another mention of how needy I became in my sleep the night before, nor the whole sharing the same bed thing. Actually, sharing a bed became our norm without us ever saying a word about it. At night when I either fell asleep on his lap or yawned and said I was going to bed, he would come in with me and hold me all night. No funny business. I loved it.

  And for the next week and a half, we existed well like that together. Tyler kept up his nursemaid duties and amazed me by the amount he exercised on his own each day. It put me to complete shame, as all I ever did before I broke my ankle was a half hour run each day, and really, that was more of a guilt shuffle from all the junk I was prone to eat.

  Really, we didn't spend much more time together than we did before. He still went and did his own stuff; he saw his friends, and did whatever else he liked to do. So it wasn’t as if he’d become completely beholden to me. And with each day that went past, I realised how firmly in the friend-zone I was. And that was fine. I guess I couldn’t really expect a guy like Tyler to really be interested in someone like me, but it didn’t stop me from appreciating the view when he was around and enjoying our cuddles.

  The only thing that really changed was that we'd spend more time together at night, and my Foxtel account got a good workout as he introduced me to the kind of shows he liked. We sat through the first three seasons of True Blood, which was a little uncomfortable with all the graphic sex scenes going on in it, but we were adults, and although neither of us realised it would be quite that illustrative, we got through it. But, I’ll admit I was glad for the dimmed lights to hide my burning cheeks as I stared straight ahead at the screen.

  The highlights of m
y days were when he’d wrap me in his arms and kiss the top of my head, or make space for me so I could lay on the couch while he played with my hair. Those moments were special to me, and I loved the closeness we shared, but I did often wonder if perhaps I was becoming too dependent on him. A point that was only driven further home by the intense panic I felt when I woke one morning to find him limping about while shoving his things in his bag.

  "Is everything all right? Did you hurt yourself?" I asked, my voice filled with concern.

  He shook his head and waved me off. "It's nothing. I just pulled a muscle or something. But I need to go.”

  “Has something happened?”

  “Everything’s fine. I just have something I need to take care of. But I’ll be back, OK, don’t worry about it.”

  “Did I do something to upset you?”

  “No, sweetheart, you’re absolutely perfect.”

  “You hurt yourself on my stairs, didn’t you?” I asked, feeling selfish for not going to his place like he asked.

  He released a shaky laugh and I felt awful. He really sounded as though he was in pain, and I wanted to help him the way he’d been helping me, and I really didn’t want him to go. “It’s really not your fault, sweetheart, I just have some unexpected stuff I need to take care off – will you be OK?”

  “Oh, sure, of course,” I said, although, it sounded like a lie as I wrung my hands together and watched him limp about as he got the last of his things together. “I could um…help you stretch it or something if you like…” I offered, feeling the need to do something, anything to help him out when he’s gone above and beyond to help me.

  “It’s fine. I promise,” he smiled. “Don’t worry about me at all, OK? I’ll call you soon.” And with that, he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead. “Please be safe while I’m gone,” he whispered.

  “I promise,” I replied, feeling as though something bigger was going on that he wasn’t telling me about. Has something happened to his mum or someone else in his family? Did I say something that upset him in my sleep? He seemed a little freaked out.

  “I’ll see you soon,” he said as he limped out the door, and honestly, I thought I’d see him the next day. I’d grown so used to him being a part of my life that I’d begun to think Nancy and Natalie were wrong, and that maybe I was an exception to the rule. But, he wasn’t there when I woke up, and he wasn’t there the next day either, or the next.

  Then it was time to start exams, and I felt sure I’d see him there, but he didn’t show up for that either, and when I asked after him, no one seemed to know where he’d gone. He’d just…disappeared, and no one seemed worried but me.

  8

  “THANKS FOR driving me, I can’t wait to get this damn thing off,” I said to Alex, as he Janesa drove me to the hospital for my appointment to get my cast off. They had officially become an item in the last month, and I’d never seen Janesa so happy. I was glad my broken ankle worked out well for someone.

  It had been exactly six weeks since the break and since it was healing well, I was scheduled to get a boot put on so I could start using it again. I’d still be on crutches for another week or two, but I could at least start doing gentle exercises to get my mobility back.

  Tyler was still incommunicado, and while I was kind of upset, or maybe even a little pissed or disappointed that he took off the way he did, more than anything, I was worried that everything was OK. So worried that I’d even risked a call to my parents and slyly slipped in the conversation that I thought I’d seen him around, just to see if mum mentioned that he was back in town, but she didn’t have any news about him either. She just said she wasn’t surprised he was in the city, ‘that boy was meant for bigger and better things than Moama could offer him,’ she’d said. ‘Just like you always have been.’

  When I voiced my concern around Alex, he didn’t seem worried at all. He just said that it was something Tyler did from time to time. ‘It’s like he needs to go walk-about every few months. He’ll come back though, he always does.’

  “Do you want me to wait for your appointment with you?” Janesa asked, when Alex slowed to a stop to let me out at the hospital.

  “No, it could take ages. You two go and do couple stuff or whatever, and I’ll call you when I’m done.”

  “Good luck, Sarah. Take photos of your shrivelled leg for us, it’ll be really gross under there.”

  “Thanks, Alex,” I laughed. “But I might pass on the photos. This isn’t something I want a vivid memory of.”

  “You sure you don’t want me to come with?” Janesa asked, waiting in the car while Alex helped me out and handed me my crutches.

  “Seriously, I’m fine. I have a book and some study notes in my bag. I’ll be just fine.”

  Lifting my hand in a wave, I balanced on one leg as they drove off then headed through the electric glass doors of the hospital where endless hallways of linoleum awaited me.

  Almost forty-five minutes later, I was called in to have my cast removed. The doctor, a young man of Indian descent, asked me to sit on the specially designed chair and made small talk with me about how great it will be to get my cast taken off as he discussed the healing process with me and reiterated that I wouldn’t be able to walk with the boot for at least another week.

  When I assured him that I understood everything he was telling me, he went to work with a small rotary saw. I held my breath as I watched him slice and the cast broke away, and I couldn’t help but feel a little sad when he cut straight through the middle of the words ‘Broken by Tyler’. It kind of felt like he was taking away the last part of Tyler’s and my short-lived friendship, and in a way, I did feel broken by Tyler, I felt a little lost now that he wasn’t in my life every day.

  “Would you like to keep the cast?” he asked once it was removed. “You’ve got some nice artwork from your friends on here.”

  My eyes scan over all the comments, drawings and signatures. They were all from Tyler’s friends, and while I’d spent an increasing amount of time with them while Tyler embedded himself in my life, besides Janesa and Alex, I didn’t see any of them during his absence.

  “They weren’t really my friends,” I said quietly, suddenly feeling very alone as I looked down at my shrivelled leg, covered in hair and looking very unlike anything I’ve ever seen attached to my body before.

  The doctor didn’t reply. He just cleaned me up and slid a pressure sock on up to my knee then attached the navy blue boot, reminding me yet again not to walk on it for another week, and then, only with the assistance of my crutches.

  “I promise,” I replied, before leaving.

  The first thing I did when I got on the elevator was stand on both feet. It felt wonderful.

  ***

  A sharp whistle pulled me out of the lives I was escaping into while reading The Poisonwood Bible. It had me engrossed as the family tried desperately to escape a wave of fire ants by running and jumping in a river that contained even greater dangers. My heart was in my throat and it took me a while to snap back to reality.

  When I looked up, a familiar black Navaro was idling at the curb in front of me, and an even more familiar face was smiling down as he leaned across the car and peered at me through the open passenger window.

  “I like your new footwear,” Tyler commented, grinning at me like he hadn’t just vanished from my life for two weeks.

  “It’s the latest style,” I replied, squinting up at him as the sun shone down upon me where I was sitting on a park bench within the hospital grounds. An old lady with an IV pole was sitting on the other end, talking on the phone to someone about wishing she was allowed to have a cigarette.

  “Suits you. Need a ride?”

  “Janesa and Alex are coming to get me.”

  “No they aren’t, I told Alex I’d fill in.”

  Nodding, I chewed on my lip a little as I gathered my things and tried to ignore that jealous pang that hit me right in my stomach. Why hadn’t he called me first?<
br />
  Switching off the engine, he got out of the car to help me up into the cab, the familiarity of his hands on my hips only served to remind me how much I’d missed him while he was gone. I’d really gotten used to his presence in my life after just a few short weeks, and in a way, I think it may have been better if he’d just stayed away. I wasn’t sure that I could cope with his disappearances the way his friends did.

  “Feel better without the cast?” he asked as he climbed back into the driver’s side.

  “I suppose,” I replied with a shrug, looking out the window as he started up the engine.

  “Hey,” he said, reaching over and taking my hand in his. “I’m sorry, OK? I know I let you down.”

  The feel of his skin against my skin filled me with more emotions than I had the right to feel where he was concerned. But, they got to me anyway, and it took me a moment before I could reply. “You don’t owe me anything, Tyler.”

  “Yes, I do, sweetheart,” he said, giving my hand a light squeeze before he placed both hands on the wheel and drove away from the hospital. I wanted to ask him where he’d been and why he hadn’t called. I wanted to ask him what he was really doing with me, but when I opened my mouth, an entirely different question fell from my lips.

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked when he turned in the opposite direction to my apartment.

  “Alex’s. Supposedly to study for the exam next week, but from what I hear, he and Janesa are getting pretty close. So who knows if we’ll get much done.”

  “What are you going to do about the exams you missed?”

  He glanced at me, grinning the million-dollar grin of his. “Taken care of. No need to worry about me.”

  “If you say so,” I replied, folding my hands across my chest.

  “You’re pretty pissed at me, aren’t you?” he asked after a while of driving in silence.