Page 19

19. Violet :

(SHIT. Triple word score, 21 points)

Having sex with a genius really pays off.

I don’t say this lightly, but I think it might be the best I’ve ever had. Of my life.

All nineteen years of it anyway. Or, if you want to be technical, three years, four months and … twenty-three days. Which is how long ago I lost my virginity to Miles Garland, and then all the sex which followed, including the five guys I dated after Miles. None of whom matched up to what I’d been experiencing.

I knew it would be good because, you know … it was Charlie, but I wasn’t expecting it to be quite this good, just yet. I figured it would take some time to get to know each other properly.

To figure it out.

But Charlie is Charlie, who I only needed to tell once and he’d get it. A moan here, a gasp there and he’d move heaven and earth to make sure he heard it again.

And he did move heaven and earth.

But hey, like I said. Genius.

The proverbial band-aid had been ripped off so to speak. The lines had been crossed. There was no going back, and it seemed we were definitely making the most of it.

Over the last week, we’d had sex every single day. I’d briefly wondered how we’d found the time, but it turns out two people who’d recently discovered their mutual lust, attraction and feelings for each other are very clever at scheduling when they put their minds to it. Between my college room, the upper stalls of the theatre, and the library – from which I still had carpet burn on my arse – we’d covered quite a bit of ground.

The only place we hadn’t returned to was Charlie’s bedroom. For obvious reasons.

Namely, the fact my brother still thought we were fake dating, but mostly because even I didn’t want to be having sex, with him in the room above us. Therefore, my advice was to hold off telling him until after the Boat Race, to which Charlie had responded, ‘That’s still a month away. I can’t lie for another month, Violet.’ But then I’d dragged him off to the stacks in the library and we didn’t talk about it again.

I was rushing down the street and still deep in thought when a large wheezing lump appeared to my right, careering towards me like a bowling ball. Due to the fact it was still getting dark at 5 p.m., I didn’t see her in time, therefore didn’t move quickly enough to avoid her.

‘There you are,’ Stella puffed, doubling over to rest her hands on her knees, while I righted myself. ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’

‘Why? I told you I was picking up the dry cleaning.’

‘Dry cleaning. You never go to the dry cleaners.’

‘You do, though. It’s that dress you lent me.’

Stella stood up, a knowing smile breaking across her mouth as her hands crossed behind her head so she could inhale more air. ‘Oh. That dress. The one that broke Charlie’s brain.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Yup.’

‘Poor Charlie,’ she cackled.

‘I’ll pass on your concern,’ I replied, stopping in front of the dry cleaners, with a sigh of relief. It was still open. ‘Why were you looking for me, anyway? And why were you running?’

The little electronic bell rang out as we stepped into the shop, joining the queue of everyone else who’d rushed to get here before closing time. ‘My class finished early, thought we could go for a drink.’

‘Oh, yeah,’ I replied, handing my ticket over as we got to the front of the counter. ‘Okay. I don’t have anything else to do.’

‘Gee. Thanks.’ She rolled her eyes.

I nudged her. ‘Shut up, you know what I mean. I’m done with classes, and just handed an essay in. Which means the next one I have to start can wait until tomorrow. Unless you want to practise some lines.’

‘Ugh, no,’ she groaned, her tongue lolling to the side as she threw her head back. ‘Let’s take the night off from work and stay in the pub until closing time.’

I really didn’t have anything else to do. Not that it made a difference; between classes, rehearsals and now seeing Charlie, it had been a while since we’d drunk until the bell rang.

I took the dress, wrapped in clear plastic, and passed it over to Stella. ‘Here, thank you very much. You were right, this dress was perfect.’

‘My work here is done,’ she grinned. ‘You can buy the drinks.’

‘Sounds good.’ I looped my arm through hers and we walked back out into the street. ‘Let’s see if the other girls are around. I don’t think we’ve seen Cecily outside of the theatre since the beginning of term.’

‘She lives for the stage,’ Stella grinned and led the way to the pub.

Less than forty-five minutes later we were ensconced in one of the leather booths at the Feather and Farthing next to a roaring fire, a giant bowl of chips between us along with two large glasses of merlot, the plastic-wrapped dress carefully draped over the empty seat next to her.

Stella leaned back against the leather, the stem of her wine glass spinning between her fingers. ‘Mmm. This is what student life is about.’

‘It is,’ I nodded, dipping a fat chip into the bowl of ketchup.

‘Actually,’ she said, putting her glass down and sliding out of the seat, ‘hang on.’

I watched her rush off to the bookshelf across the bar, ease the box of Scrabble out from under the boxes of other board games and rush back.

‘Now it’s proper student life.’

She shook the lid off the box, laid out the board and placed a tile holder in front of me.

‘Okay,’ I threw all the letters into the drawstring bag, ‘but we’re playing English scrabble this time. I never win at French, I don’t know enough words.’

‘ Très bon ,’ she replied, and reached into the bag for seven tiles. ‘So, how’s Charlie and his broken brain?’

‘Good, I fixed it up nicely,’ I winked.

‘Honestly, you looked so hot in that dress. I’m not surprised it broke, to be honest. We should rename it the brain breaker. I’ll try it out next.’

‘Like a science experiment?’ I chuckled.

‘Exactly,’ she replied, reaching into the bag for a tile which she held up. ‘M’.

I did the same and pulled out the letter D. ‘Me first.’

I laid down five tiles. ‘Phone. Double word, twenty-six points.’

Stella pulled up her phone and typed it into the notepad we always used to keep score. By my calculations she’d recorded four years’ worth of games. She’d won our last two, because we’d played in French, but that had only brought her up to my tally.

We were currently even for the win/lose percentage.

‘God, Vi, did you ever in a million years imagine you’d be with Charlie, having sex all over campus? Remember when we joined your names together? Violie. I think we should bring it back.’

‘Let’s not,’ I laughed, watching her place five tiles down so they interconnected where the H lay. She added twenty-six points to the note.

‘I dunno. I think it’s got a good ring to it.’

‘Maybe, but I’m not sure it’s something Charlie needs to know about me just yet,’ I replied, peering over my letters as I sipped my wine. Using the Y from where she’d placed down HAPPY, I spelt out PYLON. ‘Ooh, double letter and double word. Another twenty-three points.’

‘Are you afraid he’ll take away all the orgasms he’s been giving you?’

‘What? No.’

‘Okay –’

‘I’m not,’ I protested, though I wasn’t exactly sure what I was protesting against or why Stella was trying to wind me up. ‘Sounds like you need to start finding some orgasms of your own, though.’

It was only when Stella didn’t respond, or place any tiles on the board, that I looked up to find her sipping wine. None of that was unusual, it was the prolonged silence and the fact she was clearly avoiding meeting my eye which told me something was afoot.

‘Is there something you want to tell me?’

‘No, just thinking about which of my letters to play.’

‘Because –’

‘ACROBAT. Ugh, it’s only eleven points. Bollocks.’ She reached into the bag to pull out more letters and I couldn’t help noticing that she still didn’t meet my eye. ‘Oh hey, did I see the Boat Club has a race at home next weekend?’

I nodded, biting down my smile at the very obvious subject change. ‘Yeah, against Bath. Shall we go and watch? Charlie said it should be a good race. It’s the last one before the Boat Race.’

‘Yes, that’ll be fun, especially as it’s the start of the Easter holidays. Everyone will be out to support.’

I glanced down at my tiles as a familiar voice called our names. The pair of us spun around to find Cecily dodging a waitress clearing away dirty glasses, and she rushed towards us. Her long red ponytail was swinging behind with as much force, because the girl didn’t know how to take things slow.

‘Whoa. This place got busy.’

‘Hi girls, sorry I’m late.’

‘You’re not late, we’re planning to be here all night so you arrived just in time,’ grinned Stella, standing up to wrap Cece in a hug. ‘You want some wine?’

‘God, yes,’ she replied, ‘today’s been so tedious. Linus is quickly becoming the bane of my life.’

‘Oh dear, is this going to be the one and only Rockwell/Carruthers production?’ I patted a space on the booth and held my arm out. ‘Come on, sit down and tell us all the gossip.’

It was as Cecily dropped her backpack on the spare chair and moved to take a seat next to me that a group of girls walked past, the last one passing so quickly she knocked Cecily with her shoulder. Letting out a shriek, Cecily was shoved forward and would have face planted into the booth if Stella hadn’t caught hold of her arm.

It was possible the girl hadn’t noticed Cece, given she was small enough to fit in my pocket, but she’d have definitely felt the force of the impact. Yet she had not bothered to stop and apologize.

‘Are you okay?’

Cecily composed herself far quicker than I would have done and nodded. All three of us tracked the route the girl had taken, trying to figure out what sort of person bodychecks into someone like she was in the middle of a rugby match and walks off.

The glossy black hair was unmistakeable.

Stella turned back to me, her eyes wide.

‘Where did she come from? Shit, was she sitting next to us?’ she whispered, though it was probably still loud enough for Evie to hear. ‘Did you see her sit down?’

I shook my head. ‘No, did you?’

‘No.’

‘Golly, what’s her problem?’ Cecily rubbed her shoulder where Evie had knocked her. ‘She looks like someone murdered her cat.’

‘She always looks like that,’ Stella and I replied in unison, which had Stella grinning wide, while I was trying to ignore the nervous knots going around in my tummy.

‘Do you know her? Who is she?’

‘Charlie’s ex-girlfriend.’

Cecily’s mouth dropped open. ‘And he dumped her for you?’

I scoffed, pulling my gaze away from the direction Evie had gone and focusing back on Cecily. ‘God no. They broke up years ago, she’s been in a relationship since then, she just seems to think she has a claim on him.’

‘You know, I’m beginning to understand why Charlie wanted you to help him in the first place. She’s actually quite scary.’

‘I know. Wonder when she’ll get the hint.’

Cecily leaned back in her chair and watched as Evie finally stalked out of the pub. ‘Doesn’t appear to be any time soon.’

I glanced back down at the Scrabble board where Stella had rearranged the letters to spell out UNDERSTATEMENT.

‘Sixteen points,’ she smirked, picking up her glass of wine.