31. MAGDALEN
31
MAGDALEN
Footsteps pad down the stairs as I rush towards the medicine cabinet in the Sinclairs’ kitchen, looking for some pain relievers. I pause, eyeing the liquor cabinet stocked full of the hard stuff, and debate whether it’s too early to get drunk. As I promised Anika, tonight I will dine and date a boy. A real-life boy who can possibly stand to touch me for longer than fourteen seconds without wanting to jump into the river and drown. Granted, he may not know it’s a date, but nonetheless, I’m counting it as one. Settling for ibuprofen instead of vodka, my hands try to pry open the bottle when I hear bare feet slap against the kitchen tile and abruptly stop at the entrance. I know before I turn around.
Theo.
I close my eyes. If you would have let me, I would have left a part of my mind for only you.
My chest deflates, and while my heart begins to beat anxiously, I cannot find the will to be embarrassed by our fumble last week. Instead, something far more depressing unravels. I have the urge to step backwards until he’s right behind me. Until I can feel his heat over mine. To turn around and just stare at his beautiful face. It’s addictive to look at him. Those eyes. I want them to see me. To notice the small things. I want them to see that the pain I’m in is only because I still want for him.
But I would rather drink cement than admit my masochistic desire to be rejected all over again. So I gather the strength of my Emily, my Anika, and return to the task of popping the ibuprofen.
‘Magdalen.’
I whip around, seeing him standing at the edge of the kitchen. He nods curtly, eyes darting across the room. As if subconsciously measuring the farthest points from me and judging how to approach without suspicion. I notice everything you do, Theo. If you blink too quickly, if you lean on your heels, if you scratch your elbow, I’ll notice. Instead of saying anything at all, I give a polite, albeit awkward, smile and turn towards the cabinet once again. If there’s one thing I’m excellent at, it’s silence. I can hear him thinking of a polite way to excuse himself.
‘You can just leave. I won’t cry about it.’
He laughs condescendingly, and I roll my eyes only because he can’t see me.
‘I didn’t think you could cry,’ he bites back.
I flinch, surprisingly hurt by his assessment. Angry that he doesn’t understand me at all. Is that what he thinks? That I’m too timid for tears? I’m ready to lash out and say something spiteful, but when I look at him I falter. He is comparatively unkempt today. Still beautiful, but there’s a tiredness to him that I haven’t noticed before. It feels deep. His hair is dishevelled, and his neck looks damp with sweat, like he’s just awoken from a nightmare. But I’m sick of people not understanding me, so I lash out anyway.
‘Did you think I wasn’t hurt when you humped me in an alley and then decided you didn’t like me enough to finish?’ The pulse in my temple throbs angrily.
‘Oh please.’ He steps closer, quickly realizes his mistake, and steps back. ‘You have no emotional attachment to me. Don’t act like I wasn’t just the closest body that you could get off on.’
Heat pours so harshly into my cheeks that I’m afraid I’ll set myself on fire. ‘We’re complete strangers,’ I breathe out. ‘You don’t know a fucking thing about me.’ Rubbing the spot between my brows, the anger has weirdly disappeared, transforming into heavy tiredness. I remember I’m holding onto the ibuprofen bottle and try to open up the lid, but my thumb slips against the child lock and it stays closed.
‘And like you know anything about me.’ His voice peters out as Anika’s flip-flops smack loudly against the floor upstairs. He looks towards the hall, judging how much time he has before needing to act civil again.
‘I know enough now,’ I whisper to the bottle that finally clicks open. I pour five little pills into my hand.
Anika flops in so loudly that she literally cuts the tension. Overpowers it. She hums along to Madonna, blissfully ignorant, and steps into the kitchen.
‘Why aren’t you changed yet?’ She slaps the island countertop. Her bangles clash against the granite. ‘Magdalen, no offence, but we are not going to get it right on the first try with your limited clothing options.’
Anika glances at Theo and then towards my palm filled with pills. ‘What are you doing now? Are you driving Maggie to drugs?’
‘Trying to tell Magdalen that that’s too much medication for her body size.’
‘And I was just saying I know just how much my own body needs.’ I smile brightly at Anika.
‘Good, so, Theo, you can help us decide which outfit is best for her!’ she shrieks, guiding him to the built-in breakfast bench that sits in the corner of their kitchen. ‘I will admit, I always tend to go too short, believe it or not, so it’ll be good to have a male perspective.’
‘Anika.’ Theo stops walking, and Anika almost crashes into his back.
‘Oh, come on!’ she whines. ‘This is fun! This is what having a sister is all about. Please, please, please, it’ll be fifteen minutes max. Scout’s honour.’
His eyeline remains on the floor. Anika’s puppy-dog eyes could guilt a butcher into veganism.
‘I’m busy, I have to go an—’
‘You’ve been in your room all day. What’s the point of coming home if you’re just going to ignore me all the time?’
Home run. Well played, Anika.
Theo closes his eyes, trying to find another excuse besides I actually just don’t want to be anywhere near Magdalen.
‘Sit. I’ll buy you a coffee tomorrow.’ Anika hops on one leg, batting her eyelashes.
‘Gee, how can I say no to that,’ he huffs, but allows her to push him back onto the bench.
‘Magdalen.’ Anika’s head whips towards me. ‘Change. Now. I don’t know how long we have him for.’
‘I can only stay for fifteen minutes.’
‘You’ll stay for twenty.’
‘Anika.’
‘I’ll start crying. Magdalen, move your fucking legs.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ I grab the pile of clothes that I see she has added to. A big lump of silver jewellery has also been thrown on top.
‘She’s taking too long,’ he says and sighs, running his hands through his hair.
I walk to the hallway connecting the kitchen to Mr Sinclair’s study. ‘Suck my dick, Theodore,’ I whisper, and hear the wooden bench squeak.
‘No, Theo. You just said you would,’ Anika whispers harshly. I pause.
‘This is fucking ridiculous.’
‘Why are you being such an asshole?’
‘Why are you making me do this?’ The last line doesn’t come out as a whisper. It’s loud and urgent. He sounds genuinely pissed off.
‘I’ll hold him down,’ she yells out, probably realizing her version of whispering does nothing to keep a secret.
I walk slowly to the study. Hopefully, he’ll grow impatient and just leave before I come out.
‘Ow! Bitch!’
The chair squeaks again, and this time, I hear them laugh before I close the door.