Selling the Drama (6 page)

He stopped, turning to face her. It would be
easy, so easy to grab her and kiss her. Take her home, sneak into
her room and have her. Do it every night; that and more. Let her
teach him all those things from those books she like to read. He
wanted her to, so badly. She was so beautiful and so sensual, and
he had already tasted her, felt her skin, and he knew what those
hands of hers could do, what that body of hers looked like under
her clothes. He knew the sound of her laugh now, and the way her
face lit up when she talked about the things that interested her.
But it was just sex to her; he would be nothing more than a thrill
to have on hand and he had far too much at stake to lose it all for
something as base as that. As much as he wanted her, he wanted a
life more. This life, that he had, right now. It was better if she
hated him and thought he was sickened by what she was doing. It
would all be easier that way. The solution stretched out in front
of him and he knew it was the very best thing to do. Reaching out,
he touched her cheek lightly, despising himself as she sunk into
his hand, misinterpreting his gesture.

"Why would I want to stick my dick into the
same place everyone else has? Who knows what the fuck I'll
catch?"

Charlotte jerked away from him, her
expression cutting him deep. He watched as tears filled her eyes
and she stepped forward, shoving him roughly in the middle of his
chest. "You're an arsehole! I thought you were different but you're
just the same! You're just the same as all of them!" She was crying
now as she gave him one last shove before turning away and stomping
off up the path.

Toby watched her go, every part of him
filling with regret and hurt, an emptiness leaching into him. It
was unlike anything he had ever felt before; entirely foreign, and
he wished for the moment not long past, so he could take it all
back and just kiss her and tell her that none of it mattered to
him. But you can't have it all. At best you only get half measures,
never everything all at once.

Iris insisted on a celebration for Toby's
seventeenth birthday, and while he got her to move on from the idea
of a party, she would not budge on the cake. And what a cake it
was, a triple layered chocolate creation that contained cream,
raspberries, and a very heavy dose of some sort of liqueur. They
had bought him a stereo for a present. He was overcome by the
extravagance, but their joy at giving it to him prevented him from
refusing it or protesting that it was too much. That Iris and Royce
had absorbed him into their family so completely never ceased to
amaze him. He didn't fully understand why they treated him so well,
almost as if he was their own son, but he never took it for
granted. They were good people and he was so lucky his mother had
known Iris all those years ago. Who knew what his life might be
like right now if she hadn't?

Charlotte helped him carry the stereo and
the speakers up to his room, waiting patiently in the doorway while
he cleared a space on top of the drawers.

"So, you like it?" she asked, somewhat
timidly.

He looked at her over his shoulder. "What do
you reckon?" She grinned and he felt that tug inside that he always
felt whenever he saw her smile.

"I haven't given you my present yet." Her
smile had turned coy, her timidity from moments ago now gone.

"You got me a present as well?" He was
nervous at the thought of a present from Charlotte. You never knew
what she might come up with. The ice between them, put in place by
Toby's cutting rejection, had thawed somewhat over the last few
months, but they were far from easy with each other. A certain
element of tension was ever present between them, so they moved in
different circles at school, and limited their interactions at home
to talking from doorways and over balconies. Toby missed the easy
banter they had begun to share. Sometimes, he would lie in bed at
night, listening to her music through her wall, picture her lying
on her bed reading some book, and he would literally have to hang
onto the side of his bed to prevent himself from getting up and
launching himself into her room just so he could lie beside her and
breathe her in. Pathetic didn't even begin to cover how much he
lusted after her, after every part of her, even just the sound of
her voice or the glance of her eyes.

"I have a couple of things for you actually.
Come into my room for a sec." She spun on her heel and ducked next
door.

Toby straightened and followed her, not
needing to be asked twice. The room was very Charlotte in its
decor, an eclectic blend of scattered tastes. She had so many
different pillows on her bed in all sorts of colours and fabrics
that they took up half of the available space. She had shelves upon
shelves of books and music cassettes piled all over her dresser.
Posters covered her walls: music artists, enlarged book covers,
artistic and abstract mythical scenes that were both weird and
wonderful to take in. He had a sense, as he looked around her
personal space, that she was so much more than what most people
thought. So much more than what he had pegged her as. All these
pieces of her scattered around the room reflected something
important and when you took it all in as a complete picture, it was
one so magnificent, he wanted nothing more than to sit back and
gaze at it for an unending amount of time.

"Okay, so your first present is on my wall.
Ta da!" With a flourish, she pointed to a poster she had made and
pinned above her desk. Toby moved closer so he could get a better
look at it. He stared at it for a while, not entirely sure what it
was he was supposed to be seeing. He preferred the poster above her
bed. While clearly it was a copy of a painting and thereby
qualified as 'art', the couple openly having sex within the folds
of the fabric draped revealingly over their bodies was a sight to
behold. Did Iris or Royce never come in here? Toby dragged his gaze
away from that poster in order to concentrate on the one Charlotte
had intended for him. After a few moments though, he gave up and
turned back to her with a shrug, puzzled.

"I don't get it. Sorry." He sent her a
sheepish grin.

She smiled back, bouncing over to stand
beside him. "That's okay. I didn't really think you would get it.
It's all in code so Mum can't read it."

So Iris did visit Charlotte's room from time
to time. Toby supposed she must appreciate Charlotte's taste in
wall decor from an artistic point of view, for if she had found it
offensive, it probably wouldn't be there. He flicked his eyes to
the provocative image once more, before settling his gaze back onto
Charlotte herself. "So, how am I supposed to know what it says
then?" He looked down at her as her arm brushed his. He teetered a
little in her direction, wanting his body, any part of his body at
all, to be touching hers, no matter how light and insignificant.
His finger touched the back of her hand and his heart jumped; he
wanted to thread his fingers into hers and bury his nose into her
hair, but Charlotte was talking to him, oblivious to his hand
brushing hers and his near on mental breakdown at being so close to
her for the first time in months.

"I will explain it to you. Basically, it's
charting my celibacy. My journey to growing back my virginity. Now,
I don't know if you've noticed, being as wrapped up in Miss Prim as
you have been these last few months, but I have been solidly
single. And this is my journey." Charlotte gestured with a flourish
once again to the chart and its indecipherable symbols.

There was so much within her statement to
respond to that Toby had no idea where to start. So he went with
what had made the most impact on him. "You've been solidly
single?"

Charlotte nodded. "Right down the wire. Ever
since that night you called me out on it."

That night he'd called her a slut. That
night he ruined all chance of even being able to speak to her
normally, much less have anything more. Toby stared at her. "That
was last year; ages ago. You've done nothing since then?"

"Nothing with anyone else anyway." She
wiggled her fingers at him with a cheeky smile.

He felt his face grow warm and turned back
to the chart for want of something else to look at besides her and
the mental image those fingers were conjuring up.

Her voice interrupted his lewd thoughts.
"Are you pleased?"

Toby swallowed deeply before turning back to
her. "Why should what I feel about this matter to you?"

"How you feel about this is the only reason
why I have done it! I don't want you to be disgusted with me
anymore." Charlotte rested her hand on his arm, rubbing it lightly
back and forth.

Toby placed his own hand over hers, stilling
it, her words cutting him deeply. "I have never been disgusted with
you. Not ever."

Charlotte looked up at him, her eyes wide.
She smiled, but it was a sad smile. One that hurt to look at.
"Disgust was what I saw on your face that night."

"If my face looked at you with disgust then
my face was wrong." Toby reached out with his other hand to touch
Charlotte on the cheek. "I honestly have never felt disgusted by
you. I promise." She leaned into his hand and he caressed her face
gently. "You do know that you can't actually grow your virginity
back, don't you?"

She laughed, turning her head slightly,
placing a kiss onto his palm before stepping back. "You don't know
that for sure. Could be someone has just never tried it. I bet Miss
Prim is a virgin."

Toby flinched, but smiled nevertheless.
"That's not really my place to say."

"What's she saving herself for? Marriage?
Love? Death?" Charlotte's eyes twinkled as she teased him.

"Stop it. I'm not going to make fun of Anne
with you. She's a really nice girl."

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "I know that! She
is a pearl, a true treat of a girl with impeccable manners, the
neatest of hair, the most perfect of grades, morals that shine, and
a virginity that remains intact. You would never have to fear who
has been there before you Toby, she's perfect for you. I admire
her. Girls like her always get the best guys, the one's that matter
the most." She turned away from the poster and crossed the room to
rummage through her desk drawer.

Toby watched her from behind, feeling as
though his heart was in his mouth. He wanted to tell her it didn't
make a difference to him anymore if she was a virgin or not, but
she would take it the wrong way and he wasn't ready to leave her
just yet. They spent time like this together so infrequently. When
he wasn't playing sport or studying, he spent time with Anne.
Charlotte was right about her, she was a nice girl. A really nice
girl. She was pretty to look at with her long blond hair and bright
blue eyes; she kept her school skirts to knee length, always wore
her tie with its many pins announcing her many roles within the
student council; if she couldn't be found around the grounds at
lunch time, then he would be sure to find her at the library,
either studying herself, or tutoring others. She was a perfect
plastic cut out girlfriend, and he had no idea really why he was
even bothering. All he ever thought about was Charlotte, with her
ridiculously short school skirts, untucked shirts, and pin less
tie; her messy dark hair and black nail polish; the way the inside
of her mouth would glint every time he caught sight of her pierced
tongue, the newest addition to her pursuit of piercings in random
places. She was the opposite of plastic. She was uncontained and
spirited, foul mouthed and often rude, late to class and never seen
doing anything at lunch time other than laughing with her friends
while sneaking out of the back gate. She was all he ever wanted
every minute of the day and night, an invasion against his
sanity.

Charlotte found what she had been searching
for in her drawer and turned around, a parcel in her hands. "Here."
She held it out to him. "This is your real present."

He leaned forward and took the package from
her. Inside was a cassette tape and a book. The cassette was
Zooropa, the new album by U2, only just released but not yet
available in Australia. He smiled at it and then up at her,
genuinely pleased with this gift.

She was looking at him with a hopeful
expression. "You said you wished you had it."

He nodded. "I did. Did you get it from
Jenna?"

"I asked her for it as soon as I read about
it coming out. It's very different to their other music. I thought
we might be able to listen to it together on your new stereo." She
looked down at her foot then, tracing it back and forth over the
carpet, the breach between them ever present.

Toby looked back down into his parcel and
pulled out the book. It was an old book, with a cloth cover,
beautifully embossed on the front with gold leafing. Toby knew
enough about books to recognise this one as being special. He
expected this was something else she'd had to search far and wide
for. Her consideration to him with these gifts was touching, the
unexpectedness making it even more meaningful. He traced the title
with his finger. "A Farewell to Arms, by Ernest Hemingway." He
glanced up at her. "You think I can read this? That I will
understand a single word of what he says?"

Charlotte shrugged. "It's a love story, set
in the Great War. It's beautiful and tragic and I think you'll like
it a lot. I did, anyway."

"Thank you. For these." He smiled then,
catching her gaze. "And for the chart. I'm very impressed by your
commitment to growing your own virginity back."

She smirked. "You can make fun of me all you
like. I don't care."

"I'm not making fun of you." He put the book
and cassette down onto the top of her dresser, crossing over to one
of her book shelves. He followed along with his finger, reading the
titles, her reading tastes as eclectic as the rest of her room. She
traversed a path that veered from highbrow classics to hard
erotica, with a fair bit of popular fiction thrown in between. He
spoke to her over his shoulder, feeling safer asking this question
while not looking at her. "Why do you read these sex stories?"