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see him. He s kissing me again, all along my thighs, and I
touch the top of his head gently. His fingers are still inside
me and he wiggles them, flashing me a glance. I m
embarrassed but I don t look away.
He gets to his feet, swaying a little, and I sit up, not sure
what to do, feeling a bit self-conscious in my half dressed
state.
 Take your shirt off, he tells me. So I pull my shirt over my
head, then I unclasp my bra, shrugging it off too. He
reaches for my hands, guiding them to his waist and I
unbutton his jeans, tugging them down his legs. He steps
out of them, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it on
the floor with his hair all mussed up. I move back on the bed
and lie down, waiting, watching him.
Everything happens fast, a runaway train I don t want to
stop. He s laying down on me, biting my shoulder as he
does it, and the weight of him is a relief. He starts kissing
me and I can faintly taste the salt of myself, but it doesn t
taste ugly or awful. I pull at his underpants and he helps me
get them off. Then he s leaning across, heavy on my chest,
reaching down to his jeans on the floor. He gets out his
wallet and he takes out a condom, chucking the wallet back
onto the floor, ripping the foil packet open with his teeth. He
lies on his side and starts to put it on, but I reach down
wanting to do it and his penis throbs.
I pull him on top of me, then arch up, wanting the push,
and when it happens it s so sharp the world goes
somewhere else. When he comes, he groans like he s hurt.
Later, after he s peeled the condom off, wrapped it in
tissues from the box beside my bed and put it in the
bathroom bin, he climbs back into bed naked and pulls me
over to him so my head s resting on his shoulder.
Before he turns off the light, he says,  You all right?
 Yes. I clear my throat.  Are you?
He kisses me on the forehead.
When I wake up, the grey light of dawn is in the room and
we re overheating and sweaty. Our skin peels apart like
we ve been melted together.
25
going for an early
I doze for a while. When I wake up again I lift my head up to
see his face. His eyes open and I freeze, feeling caught out,
but then his eyelids flutter closed and I hear his steady
breathing. Is he awake or asleep? What time is it?
I need to pee. The bed s pushed up against the corner of
the room and I m on the wall side, so I wiggle down to the
end, trying to be as quiet as possible. I m still naked. He s
still naked. My toes find the carpet and I tiptoe quietly
across the room, stopping to pull on a T-shirt and a pair of
shorts, barely breathing. While I m doing this, his eyes peel
open, blink, focus on me.
 I m just & The bathroom.
He closes his eyes again. The digital clock beside my
bed says it s 5.47; we ve probably only slept for four hours.
I m dry-mouthed from the beer.
I close the sliding door of the ensuite as quietly as I can,
then pat around for the light. I pull my shorts down and sit
well forward on the toilet seat, wanting to soften the noise
because I know the pee is going to stream out of me and
he s right there next door. It seems like I m peeing forever.
My face scrunches up. Oh, for God s sake.
Then I wash my hands and face and drink a lot of water
from the tap. As I pat my face dry with my towel, I m
watching myself in the mirror. My eyes look tired and
swollen.
Before I go back out, I get a clean towel out of the
cabinet.
He s pulled his jeans on and is making the bed.
 You don t have to do that, I say, surprised. Then I
remember the towel, offering it to him.  Here, if you want to
wash or whatever.
 Thanks. He goes into the ensuite, half closes the door
and a second later I hear him pissing soundly.
I smooth out the doona as though I always make my bed
and yesterday was an aberration. The toilet flushes and
then I hear the tap running. I push the bed back in against
the wall and fix up the pillows.
When he comes out I turn to face him.  Sorry, you could
have kept sleeping if you wanted to. I didn t mean you had
to get up.
 I thought we d go for a surf. You keen?
He heads up to his car, telling me it takes a while to warm
up and he ll start it while he s waiting for me to get ready.
Our newly repaired boards are still in it. I m in a fluster. I
spray deodorant on, clean my teeth and give my hair a
quick brush. Then I pull on my bikini, board shorts and a
singlet.
I m just pulling my sliding door shut when I hear:
 Cookie?
Hannah s leaning out her lounge room window, her face
all sleep creased, smiling down at me.
I wave up at her.  Hey.
She continues to whisper.  Did someone come home
with you last night?
My face flushes and I nod.
She motions over her shoulder.  Me too. Victor is here.
 Oh.
 Go vaginas.
Ryan s fiddling with the radio, zipping through the stations.
 Sorry I took so long, I say, plopping into the passenger
seat.
He doesn t find anything he likes so he reaches across
me and opens the glove box, and I look at the pale hairs
covering his forearms and wish he d do something to
acknowledge that last night happened. He pulls out a tape
and pushes it into the cassette player. The Sunnyboys 
which is sort of funny given it s classic surf music and we re
about to go for a surf. If I knew him better, I d pay him out.
He lowers the volume then leans over and kisses me.
Once, twice, three times.
Then he runs his hand over my hair.  Sorry, mate, I m not
very good at mornings.
After our surf, when we re back at the car and Ryan s got a
towel around his waist like a skirt, pulling his boardies and
wet swimmers off underneath, he says,  So I m going away
for a couple of days.
I say nothing, not sure if it s a euphemism. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]