26 I am, in a word, whipped
26
I am, in a word, whipped
Finn
Julien and I head to Tooting Lido early. A rectangular gem of blue amidst the green of the common, with changing huts in vibrant primary colours lining one length of it, it’s still early enough that we’re not yet packed like sardines in the water. But with the morning sunlight beginning to blaze, it won’t be long before crowds start to spill into the pool.
Julien’s spent the better part of an hour trying to beat my lap times, and while I respect his dedication to failure, I’m glad when he swims to the edge to take a breather at last, leaving me floating in the middle of the pool. Which is where I am when I spot Josie and Alina approaching from the huts, Josie holding the crook of Alina’s arm as they walk. From behind them, Ava appears.
I’m used to seeing her in her work clothes: dark T-shirt, jeans, an apron. I’m used to seeing her in regular clothes now too; usually a skirt or dress that hints at what’s beneath but doesn’t give anything away. I’m not used to this .
Not this much skin; slightly sunburnt below her neck, limbs dotted with bruises she no doubt has no recollection of getting.
Not the entire length of her legs where the black swimsuit cuts high up her hips.
Not the way the material hugs every curve and dip of her body, how it alerts me to the fullness at her chest, her stomach, her thighs. Fullness that makes my hands feel suddenly empty.
The person swimming past me looks at me in concern when I let out a groan of distress. And so, like the grown man I am, I swim to the other end of the pool before Ava notices me. I take my time with it, focusing on every move, every breath, and in the process, I come to the conclusion that this lido trip was an awful idea.
By the time I reach the far end of the pool, I grab on to the edge and inhale deeply. Then, like a mirage or a nightmare, I hear her.
‘Morning, Finn.’
I look up to find Ava’s blue eyes sparkling brighter than the sun-flecked water, a smile casting its magic over her face as she perches on the edge. I pull myself up to sit next to her, which may be a terrible decision, but I’m losing my mind not being close to her.
Her gaze slides down my bare torso, neither subtly nor brazenly, and I manage to ignore the hammering of my heart to say coolly, ‘Hey bud. My eyes are up here.’ Ironic, coming from me, because it’s taking every atom of restraint not to move mine from her face. She laughs, and I feel like I’ve won. ‘Why are you so chipper this morning, Ava Monroe?’
‘Had a good night’s sleep.’
‘Must be nice. Any other reason?’
She moves her legs in the water, taking her time to answer. ‘I feel like I’m at a crossroads.’
I watch her kick, hoping her ankles are a safe enough body part to look at. ‘What kind of crossroads?’
‘I finally feel like the ground has settled. Seeing Josie finalise stuff for her exhibition, watching you go for a job you really want, knowing Max is thriving . . . It’s made me feel I could start making changes, too.’ She looks towards the far end of the pool as she continues, ‘I want to focus on making my life a little better, and I think the first step is to pin down what doesn’t serve me anymore. I just – I know it sounded ridiculous, but I meant what I said yesterday about trying to date with intention. I want to meet someone and try something that doesn’t leave my head in bits.’
‘I get that.’ Every moment we spend together, there’s something new added to the wreckage in my brain. But I’d clear space for her in an instant, if she ever wanted it. She’s in every corner anyway.
‘It used to be fun,’ she says. ‘Going out, getting what I needed, and then doing it all over again whenever I wanted it. But now it’s not. It doesn’t make me feel anything at all, actually. Not good, not bad. Just nothing. And I think . . .’
My heart’s going full throttle. ‘You want to feel something?’
‘Yeah. That’s it.’ Her gaze drops to our hands on the tile, barely a centimetre between us. Come on, Ava. She knocks me with her shoulder instead, a rare moment of physical contact, and my skin tingles where hers touched it. ‘More than anything, I want to keep spending time with the people I care about. My family, my friends.’
There it is, that word. Friends . Because I’m leaving, and as much as I think she also feels that little something pulling us together, maybe it looks different for her than it does for me.
‘Chums,’ I say at last, harking back to one of our first conversations on the day we made our weird, tenuous agreement to be friends. ‘I actually don’t think I’ve ever said that word in my life.’
I don’t know if she remembers. The innocuous conversations that mean so much to me probably don’t mean anything to her.
‘There’s a reason for that,’ she says with a grin, just like that first day, and my heart expands in my chest.
Without warning, she pushes me in the pool, and I grab her arms at the last second to drag her in too, both of us emerging from the water a spluttering, laughing mess.
‘This is fucking freezing,’ she says through a shiver. Goosebumps peppering her skin, half her hair fallen out of her ponytail and her teeth chattering like some kind of dishevelled marionette, I realise with terrifying certainty that no one could ever come close to her. She calls back to me as she starts to swim away, ‘Race you to the others?’
I let her win. I want her to win.
Ava and I get out of the pool last, and I try not to look at her too hard as we stand in line for the changing rooms, tote bags slung over our shoulders, but I can’t help it. Her lips are slightly pouted as always, her chest flushed from the sun, and her hair’s piled into an uncharacteristic bun, with wispy waves stuck to the back of her neck.
‘What do you think they’re talking about?’ she asks, nodding her head in the direction of the café, where Julien, Josie and Alina went to hunt for some ice cream. If she caught me looking, she doesn’t show it.
I consider lying but decide against it. ‘Whether we’re secretly sleeping together.’
She nods slowly. ‘What do you think their conclusion is?’
‘They think we are. Well, Julien does, at least. I’m almost certain he doesn’t believe me.’
‘Why not?’
Because I slip your name into conversation so often even I’m bored listening to myself speak. ‘Because we spend so much time together,’ is what comes out instead.
‘That’s all?’ We step forward a few paces in line and she unties her hair and restyles it, the way she often does when she’s thinking.
‘No, that’s not all.’ The heat’s loosened the truth from my tongue, and I give her the smallest amount of it that won’t scare her away. ‘Because you’re very much my type, as Julien is well aware.’
The sun goes behind a cloud, and open curiosity widens her eyes. ‘And what’s your type?’
What’s my type? Smart, confident, beautiful, with roots that keep her in one place and tie her to the people she loves in a way that I’m not sure I’m built to experience.
‘Brash, kind of rude, perpetually toes the line between tolerating me and wanting to shove me off a bridge.’ She chuckles softly and it makes me want to pull out a full laugh; one of her rare, unapologetic ones that opens up her whole face. ‘Oh, and bangs. Historically, I have always had a thing for bangs.’
There it is – the laugh that releases whatever burden she holds close at all other times. I almost don’t want to taint the sound with my own, but I can’t help it, so I let my laugh blend with hers; two instruments in a symphony.
A smile still tugs at her mouth when she stops, and she’s quiet for a few moments. ‘Didn’t realise ten centimetres of hair could have such an effect on someone.’
‘You have no idea.’ I mean it as a joke, but the truth is, every tiny piece of her has an effect on me, and I’m too needy to walk away.