Please Sir (4) Veronica, and the two friends she had become acquainted with at induction earlier that day, had been sitting in the local pub exchanging lifestories at lunchtime. As they stocked their bodies with long vodkas and Long Island Ice Teas (the only drinks whihc even resembled spohistication in this particular pub), Kate, a statuesque redhead dressed in olive combats and a low cut black vest, informed them about the punch party which was taking place in the student union that night. “What do you think?” she’d asked eagerly. “You two fancy going?” Shania,a skinny-to-the-point-of-anorexic girl with mouse-coloured hair and an astoundingly beautiful face, nodded immediately. “Count me in, do you have any idea how many guys will be there? And free booze! I’m totally up for it!” Veronica, naturally shy, was slightly more hesitant, but desperately wanted to be closer to her two new friends, so she agreed too. She hoped the booze would help her to loosen up and have a good time, in spite of all the strange faces that would be surrounding her. That evening, she slid into indigo denim hipsters and a deep turquoise sleevless top with a v-neck (this served a dual purpose, both bringing out the colour of her eyes, and emphasising the semblance of a cleavage she had created with the aid of her Gossard Ultrabra). Coaxing her hair with wax and serum until it gleamed, and applying her make-up with care, she felt confidence in her looks for the first time in a long time. And with the rush of confidence came the realisation that there was no competition involved, not if she didn’t consider it to be a competition, the way she had all the years in high school. That served to relax her. She consumed the punch with an abandon she’d never realised she was in possession of. Before, she had always been worried she would get so drunk she’d either make a breathtaking fool of herself, or be embarrassingly sick. This night, she no longer cared. All she wanted was to have a good time. She was just returning from the bathroom (after a hefty puke which had required her to keep her head buried in the toilet for almost twenty minutes) when she had slammed into someone. “Sorry, “ she muttered automatically,.“ I didn’t mean to . . .” “Veronica? Roni, is that you?” The astonished voice cut through her drunken haze and she looked up in surprise, her eyes narrowing as she tried to reconcile the eighteen year old boy in front of her with the memory of the sixteen year who had left town all those months before. “Aaron?” she askd in amazement. “Is that you?” “Who else would I be?” he asked with a snort of laughter. “I haven’t changed that much, have I?” He had changed. He was still slim, but his shoulders had filled out and he had shot up in height. His face was older, lean and sensitive with strong cheekbones and a hint of golden stubble dusting his chin. His cropped sandy hair stuck up on end at the front, as if he’d ran his fingers through it unconsciously. And his eyes - why had she never noticed them before, she wondered to herself in disbelief - bright blue and framed with long, spiky dark lashes. He was truly beautiful. Veronica felt like she had been punched in the stomach, as all the air left her lungs. He’d always liked her, but from afar. She’d known vaguely of his adoration, but never thought about it, because he hadn’t made it obvious. He’d loved her quietly, but deeply, in the way only a young boy with a massive infatuation can. And now she was seeing him in a similar way. “So you’re back?” she asked, rather stating the obvious she realised immediately. “Um - are you studying here? Or just visiting?” She hoped her tone was casual enough. Inside she was desperately hoping that he wasn’t simply passing through en route to a glamorous life elsewhere. Can I make this decision based on looks alone? she wondered uncertainly. But, unless his personality had changed along with his looks, then he would still be the sweet, generous guy he’d always been. Although he seemed to have lost his timidity. He’d placed a hand on her waist as they had collided and he still hadn’t removed it. She had only just become aware of this, and his touch sent a tremor through her body. “Yeah, I’m back and I’m studying here. Law. How about you?”His voice was low and so so sexy. She gazed at his perfect curling lips, which had broken into a rather curious smile. Wow - dimples! One in each cheek, not at all visible until that smile. A very pleasant surprise, yet another one that Veronica couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed in all the years she had known him. “Um - Roni?” Veronica snapped out of her trance. “Um - I’m doing media studies,” she replied, flushing pink at being caught out staring so obviously. “Congratulations! Isn’t that even harder to get into than medicine?” he teased. He wasn’t that far from the truth. Media Studies was such a popular course that the university requirements were pretty strict - Veronica possessed three As and 3 Bs at Higher level and had barely managed to scrape into the course. “So listen, can I buy you a drink? The punch has ran out and its pretty lethal anyway. Too acidic for words - it may just taste like Kiora but I’ve had at least 10 cups and I know I’ll seriously regret it tomorrow morning.” “Now you tell me,” Veronica groaned, clutching her stomach as a pain cramped it momentarily. There was little doubt in her mind that the punch had caused the pain. “A real drink would be nice, thanks. Um - I’ll have a Metz. Please.” “Wait here,” he said bestowing another smile upon her. “I’ll be right back.” They had been in the reception area of the student union, which was pretty deserted. A couple of students were milling around, chatting idly about upcoming events but most people were inside, in one of the many bars. She could hear someone giving a dreadful rendition of “My Way” directly above her in the karaoke bar and she winced as the voice constantly hit the wrong notes. Spotting a sofa in the corner of the room, she sat down there, arranging herself to look as attractive as possible in honour of Aaron’s return. When, oh when had he gotten so lovely looking, she pondered as he walked back into the recpetion area, armed with a bottle of Metz and a bottle of Becks. He joined her on the sofa - it was fairly small so he was pretty much forced to sit very close to her. Their bodies weren’t actually in contact but she could feel the electricity bridging the tiny gap between them. Had he noticed the electricity already? Is that why he had bought her a drink? Did he still like her? Or was he only being friendly for old times sake? She only wished she knew. “So what’s been happening around here since I left?” he asked, handing her the Metz. Their hands brushed fractionally and they both jumped. Veronica was pleased to notice a slight flush creeping up Aaron’s cheekbones. “How was sixth year at Our Ladys?” “Crap,” Veronica muttered. “Life went on, as it does. I was passed over time and time again in favour of Carrie.” She wondered instantly why she had said that - was she try to get a sympathy vote or something? “You talking about the guys or the opportunities?” he asked, rather perceptively. “A little of both,” she sighed, understanding the rather obscure question, and suddenly feeling it was okay to reveal her bitterness to Aaron. He seemed instinctively to understand her problems. “Take sixth year - I desperately wanted to be newpaper editor - Carrie suddenly, at the eleventh hour, decided it would look good on her CV, even though she had no interest in journalism, and she got the position. I wanted a part in the school play - not even a lead part, just a small character. At the last minute, Carrie decided to audition, to keep me company she said. I was better, I know I was but - oh no! - Carrie got the part that I wanted. I ended up in the chorus.” “And the guys part?” He raised his adorable sandy eyebrows questioningly. “Hey, who do you think was choosing the editor and cast list? Male teachers of course.” Veronica said dryly. Then relented, knowing that was not what Aaron had meant. “Well, you know how it was. Guys always preferred Carrie - I never got a look in.” “That’s not true,” Aaron said so quietly she barely heard him. “What?” Veronica looked at him in disbelief. “How can you say that?” “Not all guys preferred Carrie over you.” Aaron’s face was unsmiling and Veronica was suddenly reminded of how serious he had always seemed to her. That was another thing that had been different about him - until now, that was. “You know how I always felt about you.” Veronica gazed into his eyes, seeing the longing in them now and thanking God that he still seemed to feel the same way. “You still . . .?” she trailed off questioningly, hardly daring to finish her sentence. “What do you think? You know how much I liked you. And yes, I still do. More than like,” he emphasised. Lifting his hand, he lightly grazed her cheek with his fingers. “Aaron,” she whispered, frozen to her spot on the couch, his touch throwing her body into paralysis. “Please don’t say anything.” His voice was husky and his hand moved down her face to cup her chin. It burned into her flesh- when he let go, his touch would be permanently branded into her skin. As she stared into his eyes, his lips hovered millimetres away from her own. His eyelids fluttered closed and so did hers as their lips met, a butterfly touch stretching on for what seemd like an eternity. His hands slid downwards. tracing the contours of her body, finally resting on the base of her spine. Her hands lid into his tufty hair as she opened her mouth and, hardly believing her nerve, thrust her tongue between his lips, which had parted in response to her own movement. She could feel his heart beating faster against her chest and it made her feel - powerful. This guy was attracted to her. She had been the cause of his racing heart and his - yes, that was another thing she coul feel - arousal. The power made her crazy, he was so lovely, he was attracted to her, she liked him, maybe felt more than just like, she couldn’t yet be altogther sure. He finally pulled back and opening their eyes they exchanged a long look, brght blue against darkest aquamarine. “Christ, you are lovely,” he said, his voice gruff. Echoing the thoughts related to him that ran through her feverish mind. He’d smiled at her, a lazy, drowsy grin that melted her heart, and drawn her face towards his once more . . . Veronica opened her eyes, back in the present as she heard the knocking on her bedroom door. The memories had been nice enough, but the relationship hadn’t ended well at all. She had no time, and no inclination to dwell on that however. “Come in!” she called, shutting their yearbook with a bang and putting it to one side for further perusal later on. Keri bounced in, pulling her hair loose from her dark brown ponytail as she did so. She had a sickening “just been for a 20 mile run” glow and an incredibly toned body in a bright blue crop top and matchibng tiny lycra hotpants. Keri was unbelievably fit - 3 mile run every day (and she ran all the way, no jogging involved!), gym five times a week, two Step aerobics sessions a week and 200 situps a day. How on earth did she have the self-discipline? “You should do some exercise Roni,” she encouraged now as she jogged lightly on the spot, breathing deeply. “Maybe then you wouldn’t look so miserable.” “Sorry,” Veronica said wearily. “Thats what dredging up old memories does to you.” “What were you remembering?” Keri asked curiously. She perched cross-legged on the edge of her big sister’s bed. “Let me guess - a certain ex-boyfriend of yours?” She smiled dreamily. “I like Aaron,” she added happily. “You mean liked?” Veronica corrected. After all, Aaron was somewhere else right now - London if she remembered correctly, he’d transferred to a uni down there a long time ago. “No. Didn’t you know?” Keri looked at her, confused. “He’s back in Garnsburgh.” “You have to be kidding!” Veronica blinked in astonishment. God, she was having enough trouble with Louise, the last thing she needed was Aaron back on the scene. “Anyway, we’ll talk about that another day. There’s something a little bit more improtant I need to talk to you about right now.” “Sure, what?” “You need to keep it to yourself. Swear on your life.” “God Roni, for a twenty one year old, you sometimes act more childish than Sarah Jenkins next door.” Sarah Jenkins was the seven year old who had been the provider of the Teletubbies alarm clock. “I swear. You can trust me, sis, you know you can.” “Okay? You know Dave Michaels?” “Schoolteacher and stud extraordinaire? Do I!” Keri rolled her eyes in mock ecstasy. “Who wouldn’t want to know him?” she asked rhetorically. Then she looked slyly at Veronica. “And, of course, you’ve had a crush on the bloke since you were sixteen.” “Yeah. And I actually thought I was getting somewhere with him. When your friend Jason re-introduced us a couple of years back we became sort of friends, you know? And I’d just started to think that maybe, just maybe something might be about to happen between us but . . .” “What went wrong?” Veronica fixed Keri with a level look. “He. shagged. Louise. Last night.” “What?” Keri’s mouth opened and shut in automated shock. “You are shitting me, Roni. Our little sis, little Lou. I didn’t even realise she was . . .” she lowered her voice to a whisper . . .”doing it!” “Well, neither did I. But I have the distinct impression that he was by no means her first. And, thinking about it now, I am not in the least surprised.” “Still . . .” Keri’s face was still a picture. She shared Veronica’s views about sex being something you should save for someone that you loved. But, luckily for her, she had a steady boyfriend who she had been going out with for the last year, and sleeping with for the last six months. And that had been after they had gotten engaged. Keri considered herself to be deeply in live with Matt and claimed she would have his babies immediately had it not been for the fact that it would ruin her carefully cultivated toned body just when she had almost got it perfect. “How could she do that?” Keri stammered. “I - I mean, she’d putting them both at risk if they get found out. . . and he was supposed to be yours! You’re the one who deserves some happiness, not her - she has more than enough good luck to last her to eternity, you don’t!” “Thanks Keri! Thanks a bloody lot!” “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.” Keri got to her feet and brought a mirror over to Veronica. “But look at you. I hate to be disloyal and all, but you are so much prettier than she is.” She gave Veronica several seconds to study her face, as if to commmit it to memory, then placed the mirror back in its usual position. “And more intelligent. And way more mature.” “I think that’s called overcompensating.” Veronica idly twisted a ringlet around her finger, falling into a momentary thoughtful silence.”What’ll I do, Ker? I really like him, and I don’t want to see him or Louise get hurt. And I want him for myself. What can I do?” She flopped down on the bed next to Keri and stared at the ceiling with despair in her eyes. “You know what is really sad and pathetic? I thought about going to him to warn him not to hurt Louise. But it wasn’t like I was trying to be altruistic for my sister’s sake, I just thought that he might realise how attractive and alluring I really was and realise that it is me he wants, not Louise.” She snorted with laughter at this, but Keri bolted upright, her face enthusiatic. “Maybe you should do that!” she whispered. They could hear footsteps on the stairs and couldn’t afford to have anyone else know what Louise had been playing at.- the last thing they needed was for Louise to know that Veronica wanted Dave for herself, that it wasn’t simply sisterly concern that had motivated Roni’s reaction to Louise’s revelation earlier that morning. There was a brief knock at the door before it swung open. Their mum stood there, as usual; not having had the patience to await an invite inside. The lack of privacy their mum allowed them irked all three Davidson sisters, but she never learned, no matter ho many times they warned her about it. “Just off to buy some clothes,” she tinkled merrily. “You never know when you might need something new to wear.” Their mum was the original party girl. Almost forty-five and still absolutely gorgeous, wild woman Selena had driven her husband (soon to be ex with the divorce proceedings currently in motion) into the arms of the local (and married) librarian. It had caused quite a scandal in the relatively close-knit town of Garnsburgh, especially when coupled with the unsubstantiated rumour that Selena Haroldson (being the independent woman that she was, she’d always refused to take her husband’s name) had “got intimate” with Father Angelo in the confession box of their local Catholic church. Veronica herself didn’t know if it was fact or fiction but she no longer would put anything past her mother, so weak was her faith in the woman. “Okay mum. Goodbye, have a nice time.” Keri said carelessly, while Veronica gave her mum a half hearted smile and a limp wave goodbye. Then they listened to their mother’s retreating footsteps. “And we wonder why Louise turned out the way she did,” Keri murmured into the silence, putting Veronica’s present thoughts into words. “Tell me about it,” she hissed back with a grin. “So - you think I should go and see him?” Keri shrugged. “Up to you, sis. But what I will say is, if you do, plan what you are going to say to him first. You need to make it sound like you’ve just gone to see him on impulse.” “A bit of a contradiction perhaps?” Keri smiled widely. “It’ll work as long as you are convincing. Trust me honey, my little sister is one of the biggest schemers in town!” She stood up. “Let me just go and put some regular clothes on, then we’ll go out for lunch, okay? My treat.” “If you insist.” Veronica shrugged. Never look a gift horse in the mouth - especially when you’re famished. Keri swung back at the door. “By the way, on my way back from my run I noticed a book in the middle of the road, covered in mud and looking as though it had been throuight the wars, It looked a little familar. Was it yours?” Giggling to herself, Veronica ran outside in her dressing gown to retrieve the copy of Wuthering Heights, her troubles momentarily forgotten.
Copyright © 2000 Paula M Shackleford |