Page 25 of Oleander

He sat straight and upright and cut his food carefully. He used his napkin frequently like he’d been trained. This caused me to focus on the way I didn’t sit straight, the way I slouched, and the way I dragged my food apart with the knife and fork instead of slicing it.

Today, he wore a white cotton T-shirt that looked buttery-soft, navy chino shorts, and white slip-on sandals. His hair was in flouncy golden waves about his head.

As the lunch plates were cleared, I stood to use the bathroom, desperate for some solitude. Desperate for some distance between me and Caspien where I could slouch and breathe and not feel like a dog who’d been allowed to eat at the human table. I couldn’t wait to get home.

I was walking back towards the terrace when I found Caspien on his phone in the large sitting room across the hall from the arboretum. I hadn’t meant to listen, not really, but when I heard the soft, pleading tone he was using, I froze.

“I can’t,” he was saying. “Because I’m not alone. Well, I am, but I can’t do that here.” His back was turned, so I couldn’t make out his expression, but his voice sounded so completely different that it was shocking to me. It wasn’t the mean one or the bored one he’d used with me; it wasn’t even the polite one he put on for Luke. It was something else entirely. “No. You’ll have to wait.”

I watched as he ran his finger along the surface of a table absently. If he turned his head, he would see me, but for some reason, I couldn’t make my feet move.

“Tell me,” he said quietly. “Tell me what you would do to me.”

He made a low, breathy noise, and a shock of heat rushed between my legs so hard and so fast that I felt dizzy from it. My face got horribly warm.

“Mmmm. Well, that sounds nice.” And then he turned. He didn’t look overly shocked to find me standing there.

Looking me straight in the eye, he said, “Yes, okay, I can’t wait.” The next noise he made was obscene, but it didn’t match the look on his face. “Speak soon. Bye.”

He slid his phone back into his pocket and walked toward me. I sent a prayer upward that he wouldn’t look down at what was going on between my legs; I was sure I wouldn’t survive that kind of public shaming. The shirt I wore was long, and I’d never cared more about the amount of material that went into making clothes until that moment.

“You know, Judith, it’s basic manners not to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations.”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping.” I lied. Who on earth was he talking to like that? Did he have a girlfriend? Because there was absolutely no mistaking the sort of phone call that was.

“No? What were you doing then? Just looking at me?”

“Oh, as if.” I turned to go.

“He’s not going to stop, you know.”

I stopped and turned back. “Who?”

“Gideon. He won’t stop until we’re friends, until we’re as close as two little boys can be. You may as well give him what he wants.”

I frowned. “I really don’t think he cares that much.”

“You don’t know him.”

“Why does he want us to be friends so badly?”

He shrugged. “You heard him; he feels sorry for me.”

It sounded like a lie. And I didn’t know the truth – though I was certain Caspien did.

“You know, since I don’t have any friends.”

“Have you ever wondered why that is?”

“Not really.”

He sighed loudly and took a step toward me, sliding his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “Look, I think we both know that what he wants is completely outside the realms of possibility, but we could play along. It would at least get him to leave us alone.”

“Play along...” I repeated.

The idea of playing Caspien at anything terrified me. But beneath that, I was filled with a nervy anticipation that reminded me of the top of a roller-coaster before that first dip.

“Yes, Judith, play along. Play with me.”