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He doesn’t push me to give him the book. He just waits patiently.
After a few minutes of silence between us, I push my sketchpad towards him. I keep my gaze lowered, trained on the desk rather than him. I watch his hands as he reaches out for the book and then flicks through the pages. It contains things I’ve drawn as part of my design technology subject, but not entirely just for that subject. There are pages of sketches I’ve done as costume design ideas for part of my theatre studies lessons, and a sketch of a set design for a play. Some are rough sketches and some are heavily detailed. I draw at school once my homework is up-to-date, but on nights when I’m home alone with my mother, I stay in my room and draw for hours. There are pages of doodles I've drawn to pass the time at home, little outlines of butterflies, birds, and sea turtles.
“These are amazing, Dee,” he murmurs.
There’s a clatter from down the hallway. Joseph reacts like he’s been scolded or caught doing something salacious rather than just looking at some sketches. He puts his things back into his bag, then stands, pushing the sketchpad back towards me, and disappears from the common area.
When I look properly at my sketchpad, I see that he left something else. A perfectly ripe banana sits on top of it. I look around, but Joseph is nowhere to be seen.
I grab the banana and peel it slowly, breaking off the top to eat, feeling oddly unsettled and also disappointed that my planned night of sleeping in my own room has been derailed yet again.
Five months, I remind myself. Five months and all of this will be over.
***
The music in the club is so loud it feels like it’s pulsing through my body. Friday night in the club isn’t exclusive to students, so I’m cautious as I stand at the raised balcony, looking down at the people on the dance floor below me. There are still students, but there are also people far older than me, men I don’t want to entangle myself with.
I spot a group who look like they’re students. There’s something about the way they hold themselves that always makes them stand out to me. The group consists of three girls and four boys, and it’s clear to me that some of them are either couples or at least want to be in a couple. Except for one guy, standing slightly back from the group, throwing back another cup of beer and looking around the dance floor for anything that could be his salvation from the situation.
He’s cute, and better than that, he’s already slightly swaying. I finish my water and drop the cup onto a nearby table that’s already stacked high with abandoned plastic cups. I smooth down my dress and make my way down the stairs, heading towards the guy I have my eye on. I saunter past the group, and when I reach him, I force myself to stumble. I nudge into the side of him, and he reaches out to steady me. He looks me up and down in the usual appraising manner.
“Careful, angel,” he yells over the beat of the music.
“I’m so clumsy,” I shout back, accompanied by a flirty grin and a fluttering of eyelashes.
“Maybe you should stick close to me for the rest of the night, so I can keep you safe.” He leers at me, staring at my breasts. He licks his lips. The way he looks at me makes me feel a little dirty, almost like he’s trying to imagine me with my clothes off.
“How are you going to make it worth my while?” I ask, leaning closer so I can be heard.
“Trust me, angel, I’ll make your night go out with a bang,” he shouts against my ear, and then he nibbles my earlobe. I shudder as he gives it a long, slobbering suck, but I think he takes it as desire rather than revulsion. The stale stench of beer wafts towards me.
“Well, there’s a promise I can’t refuse.” I force myself to sound cheerful and sexy.
“I think we should go somewhere quiet,” he proposes. He looks around the club. “There’s a dance floor downstairs. More mellow music. Plenty of dark corners and cosy booths to get acquainted in.”
“Is that the best you can do?” I scoff. If that’s all he’s going to offer, I’m going to cut him loose and find another option for tonight. I don’t have enough patience to waste time. I don’t want to have to ride the buses all night or find a place to sleep outside, and I sure as hell don’t want to go home to whatever is happening between my mother and Duncan.
“What are you looking for, angel?”
“Well, I’m not the type of girl to get hot and heavy and hook up in a club.”
“What type of girl are you?” he asks. He trails a finger down my sternum, stopping at the top of the dress.
“One who likes to have fun.”
“I promise you, I can show you a world of fun,” he boasts.
“You’re not going to suddenly disappoint me and tell me you live with your parents, are you? My parents are pretty strict and don’t let me bring people home. They think I’m sleeping at a friend’s house tonight.”
It’s exactly the type of sentence he needs to hear. I couldn’t be clearer than if I slipped my hand down his jeans, told him I wanted to fuck, and that nobody would miss me if I didn’t go home tonight.
“I live with these guys, but I have my own room. Plenty of space for you in there,” he brags.
“Sounds perfect. Do you want another drink? Or maybe you have a bottle at home, something for us to drink in your room. After.” I let my sentence run short, allowing him to fill in the blanks.
He gives me a leery grin.
“After sounds fantastic. I’m Ben. Come on.” He offers me his hand, and I slip mine in his. He doesn’t prompt me for my name, and I don’t give it. I let him lead me out of the main area of the club. We stop at the cloakroom, and I hand over my ticket so I can collect my school bag.
