Chapter 11 – Thomas
Chapter Eleven
Thomas
I lean in the gym lobby against the wall waiting for Sylvia. No one is here this early, but I need to take over her dance studio again. We still have weeks before we get on the water and friend or not, rowing comes first. I stick my hair in a foolish looking man bun.
Sylvia comes scrambling in wearing… no bright colors. She’s dressed in black. See, I’ve finally inspired something in her. She’s properly listening to me that all that yellow is rather obnoxious and won’t help her attract a sane man.
“Thomas! You heard what happened to me, didn’t you? I’m sure the gossip hit the rowing team by now…”
“I don’t gossip.”
Sylvia rolls her eyes. “You’re so annoying. Someone broke into my room, stole my shit and vandalized everything. How did you miss this? Literally everybody knows. I’m freaking the hell out.”
Sylvia has a very weird accent, but I keep that to myself.
“Okay.”
“That’s it?!”
“Listen, Syl… It’s probably nothing.”
“Wow. Thanks for the great advice, Thomas.”
“Do you have any enemies?”
“Why the hell would I have enemies? I’m nice to everybody. Even rude ass white boys with gross tattoos.”
She throws a disapproving look at my tattoos. I dunno why Sylvia’s so old fashioned about them.
“My tattoos are not gross.”
“Can you at least agree to ask around and see if one of your fuckboy friends did this?”
Why do they have to be my friends?
“Sure. But I think it was a girl.”
“Why? Do you have proof? Do you know something?”
Sylvia has more energy than our dogs at home.
“No. But the time. The crime. It’s a girl. And my guess? She’s jealous.”
“You are so fucking sexist.”
“Probably.”
Violet would certainly agree.
“If anything happens, can I at least call you? You’re the biggest guy I know, so I might need you to throw hands.”
“Sorted.”
“Thanks, Thomas.”
I nod and watch her walk away. She’s weird, Sylvia. But she’s a good friend. Jude and Kit come into the gym shortly after, laughing hysterically.
“Do you have her knickers on you?” Kit screams. How the hell did I end up with a best friend who is just so bloody loud? And even if I did have Clover’s knickers on my person, I would need them for leverage, so I wouldn’t give up possession to my idiot best friend.
“No. We have a 30k row tonight, where’s the rest of the boat?”
“You wouldn’t believe what I got in bio class today,” Kit announces gleefully. He pulls something out of his pocket. One of Clover’s dreadlocks.
“How the bloody hell did you get that?”
Jude snickers. “Who cares. We can torture her with this.”
“We can talk torture after practice. We have a preseason race in three weeks. We can’t fuck around.”
Jude mutters something insulting under his breath.
Cunt. He could have easily joined the cricket team if he wanted to.
Our ergs sit in perfect rows in our colonized dance studio and eventually, everyone gets to practice.
Our coach shows up this time to lead and to announce the elections for team captain.
They’ll happen after that preseason race, so we all need to ‘look for the leaders’.
A lot of this college stuff is a bunch of tripe. I take my shirt off to sit on the rower, straightening my back and tying my hair in a knot out of my face. This is my favorite part of the day, using every muscle in my body to work and push my limits. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Practice hurts, as it should. Jude leaves with some of the others on the boat. I stay after to wipe the machines and to get quiet, a plan thwarted entirely by my best friend’s presence. Kit doesn’t bother helping, but at least his vaping allows him to take deep breaths and pauses between words.
“Did you hear what happened to Amina’s sister?”
“Yes.”
“I think a girl did it,” Kit said.
“I said that.”
“Jealous. Think it was Clover?”
“What?”
“I mean… Jealous of you and Sylvia.”
“There’s nothing to be jealous of,” I snap. “Sylvia and I are friends and that’s all. I’m honestly sick of these rumors.”
“Fuck, you’re defensive. Are you sure you haven’t shagged her?”
“She’s like a sister to me.”
“You’ve never even tried to shag Violet?”
I throw my phone at Kit’s head and when he cries out, I suppress a smile and demand he toss the phone back over, which he does.
“Hungry?” he asks. Of course I’m hungry.
Thirty thousand meters takes a lot out of you.
We agree on fish and chips. After that, it’s time to meet Clover in the library.
I wear my nice hoodie and a pair of khaki pants.
Nice trainers. I suddenly give a crap about how my hair looks. Control yourself, Thomas.
She waits for me at the library entrance. This would have been easier if I had her phone number, but she would obviously turn me down if I asked for it. I even remembered her knickers.
“I staked out a quiet study room,” she says. “So you can give me my underwear back. Asshole.”
“How am I the arsehole for giving your underwear back?”
She rolls her eyes. Yeah, I suppose I deserve that.
“Sylvia said you were entirely unhelpful. I’m not surprised.”
“What? Why not?”
“Let’s be honest, you’re a little selfish.”
“Selfish?”
Clover shrugs. How can she call me selfish?
“We should get to work,” I grumble.
“That’s a great idea. We’ll probably kill each other if we have to talk for a second longer…”
We walk to our study room together and I feel grateful there are glass walls. Entering a quiet, dark room with Clover… Something horrible would definitely happen. Judging by the look on her face every time she looks at me, she might be the one to strike first.
Once we’re alone, I take her knickers out of her pocket and resist the urge to press them to my nostrils. Instead, I toss them on the table.
“Thomas!”
“Your knickers.”
She snatches them and stuffs them into her bag.
“You are so annoying.”
“Cheers.”
I slump into a chair and roll my sleeves up. Clover glances at my forearms and then pulls her chair out, clearing her throat. Why is she acting so strangely and why does she keep staring at my forearms?
Before I can ask her, she blurts out exactly what’s on her mind.
“You don’t have to be an asshole, Thomas. I know Sylvia could turn a pet rock into her best friend, but if she keeps talking to you, you can’t be that bad. You choose to be an asshole and that’s what I don’t like about you.”
She doesn’t hold back and her harshness doesn’t even repel me the way it ought to.
She’s so blunt. Is that an American thing?
Unfortunately, I can’t hang around to find out.
I’ve got to take a piss. I announce this to Clover who makes a disgusted face and shoos me out of the room.
I can’t help glancing back at her as I leave.
She’s all hunched over, twirling her dreadlocks around her fingers and…
I dunno… She makes me smile. It’s weird for a girl to have that effect, isn’t it?
I can’t even wipe the smile off my face when I try. It’s weird. When I return, she’s scowling furiously and I know I’ve somehow done something wrong.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes. You were gone for like an hour.”
“Takes a while.”
“Ew. Can we focus?”
Whatever banter there was between us vanishes and I hate that I miss it even a little.
When I say goodbye to her, she mutters “whatever” under her breath and complains that because of the rowing team her dance practice has to happen close to midnight.
I reply like a dick, obviously, and I know there’s never a chance of us being friends.
I can still smell her perfume on my sweater when I get back to my room. Fuck, I’m doing a horrible job of staying away from her, aren’t I? I just know I’m going to fuck this up.
When I get back to the room, Kit’s lying on the bed, smoking as usual.
“Do you ever do anything besides smoke?”
“Shut up, Thomas. I’m heartbroken.”
He doesn’t look bloody heartbroken. He looks high and he also looks like he’s wearing his dirty sneakers in his bed. Completely unhygienic.
“What’s broken your heart?” I do a horrible job of not sounding bored.
“College. I have to spend tonight with no girl. No touch of a woman…”
“Fuck’s sake, Kit… give it a rest.”
I finally get him to shut up long enough for me to fall asleep, but in the morning, I don’t get peace for long. My phone won’t stop buzzing and when I throw it across the room I only knock my book of the edge of my desk and make the buzzing even louder. Fucking hell.
I can’t stand this. I get out of bed and check my email on my phone. That’s what’s buzzing? Bloody emails? I swear… I wonder why I’m even in college. Well, I know the answer to that. I don’t want to be home right now and dad requires education if I want my trust fund. Which I do.
I don’t recognize the email address and there’s no subject line. Fuck’s sake…
From: spicyfreak69@
To: tbainbridge@
Subject: (no subject)
Dear Mr. Bainbridge,
Your secrets are not safe.
You made a critical mistake.
I know about your ex-girlfriend.
I know about your secrets and I know what you did at the party.
Await my instructions. Tell no one.
Love always,
Spicy Freak
“What the fuck is this?” I mutter.
“Hm?” Kit says, taking another drag.
“Open a fucking window,” I grumble and shove my phone in my pocket.
Blackmail? Really? Who the hell could be blackmailing me and who would bloody care?
It’s her, isn’t it? Clover…
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