10. THEO
10
THEO
‘Anika! You finally going to fuck me tonight?’ Dante yells from the deep end of the pool, where he floats in his usual uniform of Diesel jeans and Lacoste polo, bobbing his head up and down in the chlorine illuminated by the tall lamps around the club. Not giving a single shit that he’ll have to go home soaking wet. Only his hand remains high above the water level, elegantly fingering a cigarette that remains untouched by the water.
‘My sister, mate,’ I remind him from the pool chair I sit on.
‘Fuck, sorry.’ He looks down with mock shame. ‘Anika, baby, are you finally going to make deep, passionate, mind-altering love to me tonight?’ Dante rephrases.
I laugh because I know Anika will take care of it. In your dreams, D, I say through my silence .
Almost every man is staring at Anika as she peruses the rows of pool chairs, the fabric of her dress providing the same security as cheesecloth, leaving every inch of her visible underneath that pathetic excuse of an outfit. I look away, both angry and impressed by her. There is no use fighting little sisters over little dresses.
‘Dante, I would rather cut off that microscopic thing you call a penis and eat it before I ever fucked you,’ she says breezily, but there is less heart in it than usual. She is distracted. Her gaze is scattered as she searches around the pool, and it registers that she is looking for me. She nervously combs her fingers through the ends of her hair and sighs when the other brunette men she’s tapped on the shoulder are not me. And it’s like I can see what she’s thinking: that I have disappeared again, throwing up a middle finger and speeding back to the airport without even a goodbye.
And then she spots me. ‘Brother!’ Anika barrels over with relief, pausing to remove the stilettos that, unsurprisingly, interfere with her ability to run.
‘These motherfuckers!’ she mumbles, and grabs hold of an innocent bystander’s arm and pulls the heels off. The guy’s eyes drift to her chest and she winks.
‘Anika, you look lovely,’ I lie.
‘You liar.’ She rolls her eyes and sits next to me, and I cringe as her dress moves further up her legs.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ I divert the conversation.
‘How chivalrous! I sent Maggie to get one, but poor thing is probably too scared to go up to the bar. Are you not drinking?’ She looks down at my cup of water with complete disappointment.
‘No, not tonight. Jet lag and alcohol.’ I pathetically try to connect the two as reasons enough for my sobriety. I’m actually desperate for a drink. But the gin from earlier still settles in my stomach and, in truth, I’m afraid of what I may say under the influence. ‘I’ve never seen Magdalen here,’ I say, changing the subject, looking down at my cup.
Fishing a cigarette from her purse, she mumbles, ‘I had to drag her ass here. She’s only been a few times after you left.’ She lights the cigarette and turns, looking at me. ‘You know, you should try to be nice to her. She’s shy, uncomfortable. You two are more alike than you think. Both hot and annoyingly fucking smart. The only difference is that she isn’t a raging whore like you. I forgot to get the update from her, but, if I’m not mistaken, she’s still never even—’ She shakes her head to stop herself and takes a deep drag of the cigarette.
‘She’s never what?’
Anika exhales from the side of her mouth. ‘Oh please, like Dante hasn’t told you.’
‘Told me what?’
‘Let’s just say, she has enough innocence to save us all.’ She makes the sign of the cross and continues her rant. ‘Can you please go see where the fuck she went? I’m too sober to look at Dante’s face and discuss Magdalen’s sex history.’
Dante’s head jerks from the pool, cigarette slightly wet. ‘Heard that, cunt! Don’t say that word when talking about my sister.’
Anika forgets about me immediately, her voice piercing as she begins to humiliate Dante in front of every girl within ten metres of him.
It doesn’t take any convincing for me to stand up and find her. Following Anika’s request, I make my way through the crowd, searching for Magdalen. Bathing-suit-clad bodies playing tennis, making out, dancing on top of tables. I squint, trying to see through the mist and disco lights, but she’s not at the bar. I veer towards the DJ booth, thinking maybe she went out for a smoke. Does she smoke? I know fuck-all about this girl. I see her in the grass again, that shirt dangerously ridden up her stomach, and correct myself. Woman. Definitely woman.
I’m about to turn around and check the parking lot when I spot her. Her eyes are wide, and she wraps her arms around her body as if protecting herself, creating distance between the man she’s speaking with and her. Something close to annoyance flickers inside me as he bends to whisper something in her ear. Magdalen cringes and rolls her eyes while he laughs obnoxiously into her shoulder. And as she tries to take a step away, he abruptly leans his hand on the wall, blocking her in. The flicker turns into something a little darker. Shoving drunk dancers out of the way, I pace until I’m right behind him. Cool it, Theo. But I look at her eyes, uncomfortable and unsure of herself.
She and I need to have a talk about how to tell someone to fuck off.
Once I’m close enough, Magdalen looks at me, her voice falsely bright. ‘You promised me a dance, Theo.’
The man turns his head towards me, and Magdalen’s eyes close in relief, warmth spreading in her cheeks. When her eyes open, it’s as if she’s put on a mask.
‘I was just on my way to find you. I remembered how much you love this song. We’ll talk soon, okay?’ She winks at him. ‘It was nice seeing you again, Antonio. Have a great rest of your night.’ No wonder the man won’t give up. A bloody wink!
The man, Antonio, looks between us and turns back to Magdalen, bending down to her cheek to give a slow kiss, but she jerks her head, laughing his attempt away, and pats him on the shoulder. When she steps forward, her hand grips my wrist, hard. She stares up at me, her eyes screaming THANK YOU! I nod, giving her a weak smile. Feeling angry that she was so uncomfortable. What would have happened if I hadn’t been there?
But, then again, who the fuck sex-winks at someone they don’t want to be around?
I lead her away from the dark exit and enter the flashing lights of the dance floor. In the middle of the crowd, the music surrounds us, the sticky heat of bodies pulsing happily. Stopping, I turn to come face to face with Magdalen, but her eyes drop to the ground.
‘You don’t really have to dance with me.’ Her hand is still wrapped tightly around my wrist, her fingers slender but firm, tipped with a dark red nail polish. Anger stops me from saying anything. When she parts her lips and stares at me with those green doe eyes, I understand why Antonio gave it a shot. Those eyes are dangerous. Slowly, my hands trace over her fingers; her skin is soft and cold despite the summer heat. Settling my palm over hers, I hold her hand in mine for a moment, enjoying the softness of her against me, and gently, I bring it to rest on my shoulder.
Anika’s words tug at my subconscious. Enough innocence to save us all. ‘Dance with me,’ I shrug. ‘Make the fucker jealous.’ I dip my head to the side, trying to find her eye line, but she refuses to look at me.
Instead she glances in the direction of Antonio, who continues to watch us from the corner. He licks his lips and rubs the non-existent beard he has on his chin as if deciding whether to come over and interrupt. My jaw clenches. Can he not take a fucking hint?
I drop my hands to her waist, her eyes find mine, and we both stare at each other. Despite the darkness, those fucking eyes are glowing, and she chews her bottom lip in deliberation. Unsure. Afraid. Interested . Shades of each emotion so quick you would miss it in a moment. Without meaning to, my gaze slips to her mouth, coloured lights from the disco ball casting strobes of violet and rose across her face, turning the pink of her lips a deep red. Dangerously shiny, her lips are candied in gloss and I can’t help but wonder how sweet her tongue would taste in my mouth. Would she moan if I licked the fullness of her bottom lip? Whimper if I took a bite?
Fuck me. I close my eyes for a moment, hopelessly trying to erase the image. Was Anika right?
I come back to reality and there she is, looking at me with a slight furrow between her brows.
‘Okay.’ She glides her other hand down my chest and I swallow a groan; a strong need in the shape of her palm burns through me. I want those cool fingertips against my chest.
Music floods through the club, practically forcing everyone to dance. Even in dripping bathing suits and bikinis, no one’s fucking missing a chance to hump each other. I laugh to myself, fine with blaming Tirumapifort for enjoying the slightest touch of my best friend’s sister. Magdalen seems to be slipping into comfort with the music’s rhythm, glancing at the girls grinding on their partners around us, eyes closed and succumbing to the bass.
‘This music is terrible,’ she shouts, tilting her head back in laughter. The featherweight of her forearms press into my shoulders, as if she’s given up trying to give me personal space and instead is enjoying the happiness that this twenty metres of dance floor can give you.
When she leans her head forward towards my chest, I murmur, lips brushing against the outline of her ear, ‘I’m a dangerous dancer, even to terrible music.’
She angles herself so that my mouth grazes the tender, damp skin of her neck. ‘I can be dangerous, too.’
Christ . Our bodies find a slow rhythm as we begin to dance. My hands snake around her hips, slightly dipping into the waistband of her skirt for better control of her body on mine. Because Dante is still in the pool, and there’s a significant crowd between us and him, I press her tightly against me.
‘Happy to be home?’ I say, my face buried in her long hair. I breathe in despite myself; she smells delicious. Magdalen doesn’t answer immediately and my grip tightens on her. ‘Is that a no?’
‘It’s an, I’m not sure yet.’
‘Ah, I see. What part aren’t you sure about?’
When she doesn’t answer again, I look at her, squinting. ‘Are you not going to tell me anything?’
‘I don’t know you. It feels weird airing my dirty secrets in a nightclub.’
‘Tennis club.’
‘Irrelevant.’
I spin her around and she yelps, grinning widely, her auburn hair splaying. Pulling her back in, I say, ‘What are you talking about? We grew up next to each other.’
She lets out a sigh, and as her arms come around me again, her fingertips graze the nape of my neck, and I have to fight a shiver.
‘So we were close physically, sure. But we never talked.’
‘Did you want to talk to me?’ My voice is low, curious as I finger the silk ribbon in her hair.
‘I was thirteen when you left. I was too afraid to even want to have a conversation with you.’ She puts emphasis on ‘want’ and it settles in my stomach. It’s odd to think this is the same lanky girl who used to make crab-apple pudding for faeries she and Anika were convinced lived in our backyard. They screamed for hours when they found out crab apples stain your skin and rushed to my mother for help with their bright orange hands. I was sent to the market to buy the soap.
‘You mean because your haircut was so awful?’
Magdalen gasps and tries to bury her face in my shoulder but my hand comes to her chin, holding her face up so she has to look at me. Without meaning to, I brush the freckle above her eyebrow and smile. ‘It was cute.’
Magdalen smiles – and is that a blush? My hand finds her chin again.
‘It looked like I was drafted into the military.’
Now it’s my turn to laugh as I remember how short Vittoria used to cut her hair. Why was that? She was right: it was cut with military precision right above her chin.
‘She loved a pair of scissors.’
‘She just didn’t want my hair to compete with hers.’
I frown. ‘You mean she was jealous of a kid?’ The hand holding her chin now rests softly on her shoulder, my thumb between her jaw and neck, her pulse beating against my fingers.
‘No, no,’ she says, but I’m unconvinced. ‘I don’t know why I brought it up.’ Magdalen looks away and that’s when we both spot Anika coming towards us. She lets go of me. I have to bite my tongue to stop myself asking her to stay for one more dance.
‘Thank you,’ she whispers.
‘Any time. Really.’ Really, Magdalen. Give me one more dance so I can get this out of my system. We can dance the pasodoble, if that’s what you want, march together side by side down the streets of Chivasso, I don’t care. Just let me have music and you, for five more minutes.
I still feel her skin underneath me and I’m worried for a moment by just how much more I crave.
Magdalen gestures to the bar and Anika nods her head. ‘I’m going to try to get drinks again. Do you want anything?’
‘No, thanks,’ I say, my voice low. Still feeling her on me. She nods and turns to the bar. ‘Also, stop winking at boys who are trying to flirt with you, Magdalen.’
Her head whips back around, eyes widening like she has no clue what I’m talking about. ‘I did not wink,’ she scoffs. ‘ I do not wink. ’
‘Do you have some sort of flirting amnesia? You nearly had me on my knees with that wink.’
‘Well, wouldn’t that be a sight.’ Blood rushes to her cheeks and I have to fight the urge to grab her head and lick those precious cheeks to see if they’re as sweet as her lips look.
I shrug. ‘Just let me know when you’d like me below you.’
Magdalen’s eyes widen again and her lips part, clearly surprised. Adorable. Confused. I curse myself for taking it too far. ‘Noted,’ she says in a harsh exhale, and turns to walk to the bar again, this time staying on the opposite side of Antonio. ‘Goodnight, Theo. Thanks for the dance.’
‘Goodnight, Magdalen.’
Once she’s gone, I bury my face in my hands. ‘Fucking idiot,’ I murmur to myself, embarrassed, turned on, and unsure where to put this energy from talking to Magdalen. When I decide to find Dante again, I turn to see Anika right behind me.
‘So?’ she asks suspiciously. ‘What was that?’
‘Fucking hell. How much did you hear?’
‘According to my calculations, you lasted about twelve fucking minutes.’ She rests her hands on her hips with smug satisfaction. Behind us, two men start arguing loudly, so Anika grabs my wrist, pulling me to the corner of the dance floor.
‘I know, I know. But to be fair, you could have told me that Magdalen grew up to look like a fucking angel. Really, when did that happen? Surely I wasn’t gone for that long.’ My body feels desperate to turn around to look at her again, to pull that red ribbon out of her hair.
Anika smiles sadly, looking past me at Magdalen. ‘You can’t, Theo. She’s not into that.’
‘Into what, Anika?’ I’m annoyed that Anika thinks I’m only capable of fucking a girl and running away after I come.
‘Look, I get you both here for like, five minutes this summer. Last time I checked, you’re not in the market for a girlfriend, and Magdalen is certainly not looking for a summer-time fuck buddy. Just cool it, okay? Call Chiara or something.’
It feels like someone has blown hot air into me and pricked me with a needle. I’m suddenly deflated by Anika’s assumptions and how true they are. I’m about to press further, wanting to know more about Magdalen even if I can’t have her, when the loud crash of a table by the bar interrupts me. I hear a man curse and a voice, now familiar to me, scream out.
‘What the fuck was that?’ Anika tries to walk past me but I am steaming towards the crowd before I feel my feet begin to move. Pushing past bodies, people surround two drunken men beating the shit out of each other. It’s clear there is joy in the watchers’ eyes as they see the blood sprayed from one man’s nose and hear the other’s indecipherable swears. I roll my eyes. People love chaos from a distance.
But all I can hear is that familiar scream. My eyes search frantically for Magdalen, something within driving me to find her. To my right I see a few women hurriedly trying to lift a cracked glass table from the ground, and that’s when I see her.
Magdalen’s waist is pinned beneath the heavy metal frame of the table, shards of glass littered across her bare legs and the surrounding ground. Eyes shut with unvoiced pain. I watch her try to manoeuvre out from under the table. A petite blonde bends to ask if she’s okay, and with an apology already in her eyes Magdalen bitterly nods, teeth clenched on her bottom lip. A victim of someone else’s disaster and yet her face is burning red as if she’s embarrassed, as if this is somehow her doing? Shoving the bystanders aside, agitated by their ogling, I tell the blonde to stand back as I heave the table to one side, releasing Magdalen.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispers as I bend down to examine her and again a fierce current of anger rushes through me. How the fuck can she think an apology is necessary?
Sitting up, she lifts her trembling hand from under herself and a trickle of crimson blood spills across her palm.
‘I thought ghosts couldn’t bleed,’ she murmurs with a faint smile. Her fingertips are wet with new blood and I’m worried about where the worst of her wounds are. If she has a concussion, I am going to beat the shit out of those men. I feel dark fury begin to boil inside me. For a girl I’ve only ever known through a hedgerow.
‘Far from a ghost, Magdalen,’ I say, taking a deep breath in. As if she hadn’t realized she spoke the words aloud, she blinks with surprise at my being so close to her.
My anger simmers, but I don’t want to direct it at her, so I try to smile but my mouth fights back and I’m sure it comes off as a creepy grimace. Without warning, she quickly shifts her weight onto one side in an effort to crawl up but the motion is too abrupt, she crumples forward. Her forehead is creased with agitation, and she looks up at the group of women standing around her.
‘Fuck,’ she whispers, and places her hand on her head. Blood smears her temple. I can see it’s not the pain that makes her curse, but the people watching.
‘I’ve got you.’ I kneel next to her and wrap my arm around her waist. Her shirt is ripped and my fingers brush against her bare skin, soft and warm.
‘I’m sorry, fuck.’ Her face is still creased with embarrassment. ‘This is why I don’t dance.’ Quickly checking her over, I see there is no glass inside her and feel relief for a moment. But it fades as I take in the cuts that cover her shoulder blades, and I know for certain there must be more underneath her shirt.
‘Magdalen, please,’ I muster, and reach under her knees to carry her towards the exit, careful not to touch any visible wounds. The men, sweaty and drunk, still fight as I pass them.
‘Anika will be upset.’ She closes her eyes but I keep my gaze straight ahead, towards the red gravel, towards the dark. ‘She loves to dance. And I was already being a bitch about coming.’
‘She’ll understand.’ We pass the metal gate of the entrance, and people waiting to get inside the club watch us with interest.
‘I hate men,’ she laughs to herself, and the red ribbon in her hair grazes my ear.
‘Ouch.’ I hide my smile in the silky fabric, breathing in her heady sweetness that’s now cut with the metallic tang of blood. I fucking hate men, too.
‘You don’t conform to my category of generic man.’ I can feel her breath on my shoulder and I fight the desire to look down at her.
‘Liar,’ I scoff.
‘You’re Theo,’ she retorts, and unconsciously rests her head on my arm. She says my name like it means home. Her comment, innocent and complimentary, makes my bones heavy with disappointment. Those who know me now, know she is so wrong.
‘Keep those eyes open, little one.’ I begin to feel anxious for this girl, who is both stranger and family and somehow must now rely on me.
Sets of footsteps echo from behind me, sharp heels and sneakers clacking on the pavement, and I know it is them before I turn.
‘ Cazzo , Maggie.’ Dante’s eyes widen with worry as he reaches out to examine her. Anika and Jo follow close behind and immediately Magdalen is harassed for details.
‘You can put me down now.’ She suddenly squirms to be released from my grip and I place her feet on the ground, not realizing how tightly I was holding on. She doesn’t stumble or falter, but appears eager to comfort their anxiety, pressing her skirt down.
‘Seriously, guys, I’m fine! Those two men were fighting and I got pushed into the table!’ She speaks with authority and shrugs her shoulder like these things happen all the time. You would never know her entire back is covered in blood.
The trio look stunned, if not a little disappointed. Things rarely happen in Chivasso, and to be so closely affiliated to the spectacle, and receive such a boring response, their faces fail to hide it.
‘I am tired, though, and have blood all over me, so I think I’ll head home. But you guys go back in! Can’t waste a dress like that for just an hour, Anika.’ She smiles, but her eyes are so tired that I have to bite the inside of my cheek to refrain from stepping closer and holding her up. Jo’s shoes are already hovering over the ground, judging when it is acceptable to return back inside. Dante reaches in his back pocket for a cigarette and Anika is staring at Magdalen.
‘I swear, only to you would this happen.’ She shakes her head and grabs the cigarette from Dante and lights it up before Dante realizes it has even left his grip.
‘But I’m not a bitch, so I will let you go without a fight. I know how you get. And, Theo, you’re taking her home.’ She scowls at me, pointing her finger viciously, waiting for me to rebuke.
‘Of course.’
‘Oh, that’s not necessary.’ Magdalen becomes flustered with sudden agitation, and I can’t help but wonder: Does she not want me to drive her? Does she not trust me enough to drive?
‘I’ll walk. Seriously, it’s fine! So that you can keep your car here! You’ve done enough.’ She looks at Anika, silently begging for her to agree, as the unspoken judge, jury and executioner in all familial cases.
‘Nope.’ She takes another drag and points at me again. ‘He will take you. He’s been chugging water all night.’ She drops the cigarette on the ground and buries it in the red abyss with her heel. I think of its sudden fossilization, a reminder of blood and ribbons and dancing with this strange girl. A reminder of seeing Magdalen for what feels like the first time.
Anika’s voice snaps me from my thoughts.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Maggie!’ She waddles towards Magdalen in her stilettos and grabs her face tenderly, planting a loud kiss on her cheek. ‘Call me if you need anything, okay?’ Magdalen gives a tight smile but Anika seems satisfied. Turning around to toss me the keys to her car, she narrows her eyes. ‘Take care of her,’ Anika says. ‘I mean it.’ Before I can respond, she trails behind Jo and Dante back into the tennis club, swatting Dante’s ass as she passes him.
The invisible string that connects Anika and Magdalen snaps the second Anika turns around. Magdalen sags in place. It doesn’t take a genius to see she’s in pain, looking frail standing in the darkness of the parking lot. I watch as her knees tremble slightly and I silently reach for her arm and once again slip my hand across her skin. I try not to think about how soft she is, how badly I want to tighten my hands around her waist. I move us forward, towards the car.
‘Sorry.’ Her eyes are closed but shadowed with shame.
‘Please stop apologizing.’ My anger has not subsided but grows with each apologetic word.
‘I’ve ruined your first night back. I think I’m granted the right to say sorry,’ she bites back, and turns out of my grip to walk to the car, her hand on the car door handle. My hands feel cold without her. I stifle a laugh at her choosing to be pissy, but falter as I catch a glimpse of her back. Blood. Everywhere. Her entire shirt is soaked through.
My voice comes out rough: ‘Magdalen, stop.’
She turns to look at me, face pale but stern, shadows dancing across the hollows of her cheekbones. ‘What is it?’
‘Your back.’ My jaw clenches. ‘There’s so much blood,’ I choke out.
‘Oh.’ She nervously chews her bottom lip. ‘Well, it’ll have to wait until we get home. Just need to wash it off is all.’ Her voice is trembling.
‘Fuck no.’ My annoyance comes back. ‘We have to go to the hospital.’
Her eyes widen and she takes a step back. ‘Absolutely not.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s late, I’m tired and it’s just a few scratches on my back. I swear. It looks like a lot of blood, but it’s nothing really. You know how pesky little cuts can be. Please, just take me home.’
‘No. Turn around.’
Magdalen presses herself against the car. ‘I said no, Theodore.’
‘I’m not giving you an option. If I have to pin you down to look, I will. Now what’s the fucking problem?’ I take a silent step forward. ‘Spit it out.’
‘But, I’m not...’ she groans, running her hands through her hair. The red ribbon remains untouched from the accident, the warm wind blowing it away from her face.
‘You’re not what?’ I feel my patience wearing, knowing with each minute her back bleeds more.
She stares at her feet, which trace abstract shapes in the red gravel. Her voice drops to a whisper. ‘Fine! Oh my god. I’m not wearing a bra and if I take my shirt off, I’ll have to, you know...’ Her hands fly in front of her chest, gesturing to her breasts. ‘... take my shirt off.’
I take a sharp breath in, my gaze lowering to her breasts that peek through her white tank top. The chilled air has caused a perfect outline of her to show through the translucent fabric and my throat seizes.
‘Theo!’ she gasps quickly, covering her boobs with her hands. ‘That wasn’t an invitation to look!’
I blink, not realizing I was still looking. ‘First off, I could give less of a shit that you’re not wearing a bra. I’ve seen boobs before, Magdalen. I can guarantee you that yours are the same as every other woman’s. Second, if you think I and every other person here didn’t notice your lack of bra prior to this moment, you severely underestimate the male gaze. And thirdly,’ I take a breath in, anger resurfacing in full force, ‘if you don’t let me see your back in the next five seconds, I swear to fucking god I will rip that pathetic excuse for a shirt off your body.’
A flash of hurt briefly touches her eyes but she quickly blinks it away and sighs. My heart rate settles, and I know I’ve won.
She rolls her eyes. ‘Since when did you get so demanding?’