Chapter 21
CJ
CJ would go so far as to say that if, before, the notion had been suggested, now the motion has been officially passed: she and Ash have become proper friends.
Ash got her a book last week, and CJ felt really quite emotional about it.
Nobody has bought her something simply because they saw it and thought of her in years.
Perhaps even ever. It made her feel appreciated, and then she felt odd about feeling appreciated.
Sort of like, well, Ash must think of CJ when CJ isn’t there.
To CJ, this is a revelation. To think of somebody when they are not with you implies a level of caring about them, and CJ does not accept this fact lightly.
Being thought of, being cared for. She’s been in charge of so much, since she was so young, that to consider the fact Ash wanted to do something nice for her, just because, is like learning Santa Claus is real, after all.
CJ’s only job isn’t, it turns out, to keep the world turning.
She is worthy of being thought of. The magic of it.
Something slots into place in her chest because of it, makes her shoulders drop a half-inch.
She hadn’t thought they’d needed to drop, hadn’t realised she was anything other than a chill girl who is chill about everything.
But then this kindness happened and it turns out, she needed it.
CJ has had Ash to dinner again, another low-key evening with Jorge playing and Miguel and Todd chattering away, everyone getting on like a house on fire.
CJ has properly met Ash’s friend Mona, the New Zealander with a younger boyfriend and a potty mouth, albeit only for the quickest of coffees at Querido.
Ash hangs out by the front desk when CJ is working, and CJ loiters even after she should have gone home, so she can catch Ash as she returns from her intrepid exploring, full of observations about the city CJ has come to realise she’s been taking for granted.
Ash has seen every inch of it by this point, telling CJ about places she hasn’t come across or visited even in a decade of living here.
‘I mean,’ said CJ, on one such early evening.
They were hanging out in the CoLab kitchen.
‘I’ve always been cognisant of Lisbon’s superior vibes – and verbally so, you know, I point out the colour of the sky to Jorge, observe the season changing, how lucky we are to live somewhere so beautiful – but I have to admit, we stay pretty local and have our places, our spots we go to, and it can be easy to forget there’s a big wide Portuguese world out there. You’re reminding me of it.’
‘Pleasure to wave my Lisbon Tourist Board flag for you,’ Ash grinned.
Ash is always grinning. Always pleased to see CJ, happy to be here, enjoying herself.
She’s different to the Ash of That Night – That Night being the night of her arrival, when nobody was their best self.
They don’t even joke about it now, don’t mention it, it’s bygones.
It was so long ago. Onwards, forward movement only, to the point where it’s crossed CJ’s mind that when it’s time for Ash to move on for good, she’ll be sad.
Genuinely miss her. That’s still eight weeks away, so CJ doesn’t indulge this thought for long, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t make the space between her ribs ache.
Having a friend, who is a girl, is nice.
‘What are you up to tonight, anyway?’ Ash pressed, as CJ recalls now. ‘Anything? Nothing?’
‘Nothing, really,’ CJ admitted. ‘That’s why I stuck around here.
Luis clocked off this afternoon to go and scope out venues for the social calendar, and it’s been super quiet here today.
I can’t take him suggesting threesomes again, so good riddance, lol.
I don’t know where everybody is. And Jorge is off for the night at a sleepover with my aunt and uncle – as in, Miguel’s mum and dad. Miguel and Todd took him.’
‘No hot date?’
CJ screwed up her nose. ‘I couldn’t be arsed, to be honest,’ she said. ‘My period is due. I can go two ways before I bleed: full-on hermit, or raging sexual demon. I think it’s a case of the former, this month.’
‘An invitation from your body to slow down,’ Ash offered, only mildly taking the piss out of herself, because she’s woo-woo-adjacent, talking about menstrual cycles.
CJ has come to appreciate that about her, though, all her therapy-speak and different ways of looking at the world.
It turns out, nothing bad happens if you open your eyes – and heart – to the woo-woo.
Not that she has admitted this finding to Ash.
She suspects Ash has cottoned on, though.
She acts like CJ must want to hear all this, and CJ doesn’t correct her.
‘Yeah,’ said CJ. ‘It’s the sofa and a movie for me.’
‘Heavenly, when done right. I might do the same.’
The women looked at each other. CJ didn’t want to ask Ash to come over to hers, because she didn’t want to put Ash in the position of turning her down. Plus, she didn’t want to seem … needy.
But …
‘We could veg out together?’ Ash said. ‘Do you want to come up for a bit? I don’t have a TV up there, but I do have UNO? And music?’
CJ laughed. ‘Oh my gosh, did you buy UNO?’ she asked. Ash had never played before, not until their last dinner together when Jorge taught her. Ash reached into her bag and pulled out the distinctive red box, waving it to and fro. ‘You’ve caught the UNO bug!’ CJ said.
‘Do you think it’s terminal?’
‘I suspect you might have a bad case that takes a while to leave the system,’ CJ told her. ‘I’ve seen it happen before, at first exposure. Then the bug is in your system forever, and will only flare sporadically, normally around summer holidays and the festive season.’
‘Like the cold sore virus.’
‘Yes, exactly. Enjoying UNO is exactly like the cold sore virus.’
That was a week ago, and CJ continues to think about it, about that impromptu night together.
Ash has the nicest room in CoLab, and the most expensive.
They call it a suite, or studio, because it has a bed and a small lounge area, as well as a hotplate and mini fridge in the kitchen corner too.
CJ kicked off her Birkenstocks and lay down on the couch looking at the rooftops of the houses across the street as Ash declared she needed to wash the day off her.
CJ had never been more aware of another human’s nakedness than she was of Ash’s, despite Ash being the other side of the bathroom door, and fully clothed both as she entered and when she reappeared, in her pyjamas: a neat pair of white cotton shorts and matching vest.
‘Sorry if this is a bit titty,’ Ash said as she folded her legs beneath her after motioning for CJ to sit up. ‘Not that I really have tits, of course.’
But she did. CJ saw them, the shadow of them, when Ash leaned forward, the outline of them when she sat back, and CJ remembered when Ash had got changed in front of her, on the side of the road, turning around in that little lace bra.
And now, here CJ is, running gel through her hair as she gets ready for Luis’s fortieth birthday party, mind wandering once again to Ash, her chest, her laugh.
‘You almost ready?’ Miguel yells through from the living room. ‘Because we’re already pre-gaming without you, cousin!’
CJ checks over her reflection: she’s in skin-tight black leather trousers she’s had for years, and, unusually for her, strappy black heels.
It doesn’t happen often, but when it does CJ actually likes how they make her feel – tall, elegant, somewhere in the ballpark of regal.
Her top is black, too, sleeveless and slashed at the neck, but almost entirely backless.
She turns, looks at herself over the shoulder, all the better to double-check that her back remains her best feature.
It does. The deep welt of her spine, the ripple of muscles across the rear of her shoulders.
She has moisturised with baby oil tonight, and her skin glistens with it.
With her patent black clutch and swipe of red lipstick – another rarity, make-up, but not unheard of – she feels sexy, powerful.
With all the effort Ash puts into her appearance, CJ is playing catch-up.
Ash has raised the bar. Tonight, CJ has accepted the challenge.
‘Holy moly!’ Todd says when she leaves her bedroom. ‘Catherine Jane Hall! Jesus, you look amazing! Here to steal your heart and kick your ass, whaaaaat!’
CJ does a twirl, thrilled to have elicited this exact response.
‘Will I do?’ she asks, but of course the answer is yes. When the affirmative comes, from Jorge, too, CJ grabs herself a shot glass and tells Miguel, ‘OK. Hit me. Let’s rack ’em up.’
However, for all her bravado, she only has the one shot – her tummy is in knots, strangely enough.
‘Is it because of the threesome?’ Miguel says, whispering the word threesome. ‘Are you nervous?’
‘Fuck off,’ CJ says, also whispering for Jorge’s benefit. In her normal voice she adds, ‘I wish I’d never bloody told you.’
‘Oh, come on,’ Todd says. ‘Orgies have been happening since the dawn of time. Live a little! Give the man the present he truly wants!’
‘He really does want the blender I got him,’ CJ deadpans. ‘It can heat up, too, to make soups.’
‘Get your tits out,’ Todd says. He clicks his fingers back and forth across his face to add, ‘Let’s get this first lesbian experience done and dusted!’
The doorbell goes and the babysitter arrives. She instantly asks to take Jorge down to the park, before it gets any colder, and CJ says yes. She gives him a kiss and says she’ll see him in the morning.
‘But will you wake me up and give me a kiss when you get back?’ he asks, eyes wide. ‘So I know you’re home?’
It makes CJ smile, this role reversal. He’s her little sheepdog, rounding them all up to make sure they’re home and settled as one. ‘Of course I will,’ she says.
Once he’s gone, the threesome chat does not abate.
‘Todd and I have discussed this at length,’ Miguel says, ‘and our conclusion is that you like her. Like like her.’
CJ baulks. ‘Ash?’ she says. ‘No.’
‘You do, babe,’ Todd says. ‘You should definitely explore that. You have obviously noticed that she’s hot.’
CJ blinks. ‘She’s very pretty, yes.’
‘And funny,’ says Miguel.
‘And you’re spending a lot of time with her,’ says Todd.
‘And talk about her like, all the time. You’ve got mentionitis. You look for any excuse to say her name,’ adds Miguel.
‘I have a new friend!’ says CJ. ‘I’m straight, remember?’
‘Is anyone really straight?’ asks Todd.
‘And you did once tell me you can only get off to girl-on-girl porn,’ comments Miguel.
CJ looks to Todd, whose face confirms this is absolutely not news to him. There are seriously no secrets in this house.
‘Lesbian porn is the only porn that properly centres female pleasure,’ CJ explains, calmly. ‘Hetero porn always just feels so … mean. Somebody always has to get choked or spanked.’
‘Are you sure you’ve never even kissed a girl?’ asks Todd. ‘I thought all women messed around with one another in college.’ He catches his Americanism. ‘Sorry. University.’
‘I kissed a girl at a party when I was about sixteen, is that what you want me to confess?’ asks CJ.
‘Yes, actually,’ says Miguel. ‘And how did it feel?’
‘Wet,’ says CJ.
‘Way-ho!’ sing-songs Todd.
CJ rolls her eyes. That isn’t what she meant. ‘So what,’ she presses. ‘Because I’ve noticed Ash has a nice arse, I should shag her?’
Todd and Miguel shrug in unison.
CJ doesn’t know what to say. She’s shaking her head, looking back and forth between them, half amused and half …
not curious. Curious isn’t the right word.
Or is it? This budding friendship, it’s all so new to her, and in amongst the giggling and chatting and getting to know you, sometimes she does, if she is truly, really, honest, think, this isn’t enough.
CJ is so enjoying herself, so invested in Ash and what she thinks and says and dreams and wonders, that she could crawl inside her, live in her skin, be at one with Ash, if that doesn’t sound too dramatic, too serial-killer-ish.
(It does, she knows it does. And still.) It isn’t that CJ is in love with Ash, but she is, it would be churlish to argue against, kind of obsessed with her. Low-key.
Despite her somersaulting stomach, and in lieu of knowing what else to say to Miguel and Todd, CJ pours them all another shot, lifts her glass and says, ‘Here’s to having a great time tonight, dickheads.’
To their credit, the boys cheer, and the three of them drink down the see-through liquid, letting it burn their throats and water their eyes, and they all pretend not to notice when a text from Ash lights up CJ’s phone.