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Done.
So why do I continue to watch her? Why am I distracted when she’s in the room and distracted when she’s not? When she steps out front, my eyes go to the window. When she’s refilling her drink for the fifth time, my gaze drifts to the kitchen. And when she’s in the room, I’m noticing the sliver of skin between her jeans and tee that flashes every now and then. I keep looking. And I’m not the only one. Annie’s forbidden fruit, and every guy here knows it. Maybe they’ve always looked, and I’ve just never noticed it before.
Tamsin’s well on her way to drunk now, but Annie seems to be holding up better than I expected. She’s a fairly relaxed drunk, it turns out. I watch her soak up the conversation, jokes, and endless flirtation going on around her.
If only I could read that mind of hers.
When the music’s turned up, I take that as my cue. People are going to start dancing soon, and I have no interest in joining them, so I slip from the house and cross the road, heading down to the beach. I’ll wait here until I hear the music’s turned down, a signal that it’s safe to return.
Sinking down onto the sand, I draw my knees up and listen to the waves crash in front of me. They’re extra violent tonight.
I’ve barely had a chance to settle in when I sense someone behind me. I glance over my shoulder and make out Annie’s familiar frame standing a few metres away.
‘This your idea of being safe, Wilson?’ I say. ‘Wandering around in the dark, drunk, at an abandoned beach?’
She walks over, dropping down onto the sand beside me. ‘It’s not abandoned. You’re here. Why’d you leave?’
Normally I’d be annoyed at the unwelcome company, but I’m not annoyed at Annie. ‘Not much of a dancer.’
‘Oh. Is that what they’re doing?’
My lips twitch. ‘You’re not going to join in?’
‘I wouldn’t know how.’
‘You just raise your arms and shout the lyrics as loud as you can while spilling your drink everywhere.’
Her teeth flash in the dark. ‘Well, I don’t know any of the lyrics.’
‘Neither do half the people singing right now.’
She laughs. I’ve heard laughs described as pretty before, but I’ve never really understood what it meant. Annie Wilson has a laugh that sounds like the wind chime that once hung on our veranda when Mum was alive.
She peers into her cup. ‘This was full a moment ago. I must have spilled it on the way here.’
I keep my eyes ahead. ‘I think you’ve had enough.’
She rests her cheek on her knee and watches me. ‘I’m sorry about this morning. I didn’t want to get out of the car.’
‘You didn’t want to get back in it either judging by your terrible attempt.’
She laughs again, and it makes me look in her direction.
‘That car has the worst doors,’ she says. ‘I finished the morning feeling like I’d lifted weights for three hours.’
I study her face. ‘Does your mum know where you are?’
She shakes her head and looks at the water. ‘I don’t need her permission.’
I doubt that’s true. ‘Why’d you really come tonight?’
‘Just to see.’
‘See what?’
She doesn’t reply straight away. ‘To see if I feel better here with these people than with my people.’
‘And do you?’
