“I've never been.”
She opens her mouth as if in shock.
“I have travelled, you know.” I lean over and nudge the side of her arm.
“You’re right, and I’m sorry,” she says, and I can tell she is. “Tell me about your travels, if that’s not still vetoed?”
My travels.Ourtravels. It’s not an easy topic for me to talk about.
My counsellor, Jill, tells me often that it’s important I try to talk about the happier times with Arnie, so maybe I should try. Maybe it will be easier with Jenna because she doesn’t know what happened afterwards. She’s not waiting for my voice to crack or for pain to shadow my words. “We did about fifteen months in total,” I say. “Mostly in Asia, Australia and New Zealand, and then on the way home, a few months in South America.”
“Sounds amazing. I sometimes wish I’d done something like that when I was younger.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“If I veto this, we really are going to run out of things to talk about, aren’t we?”
“Possibly, although maybe that was where we went wrong in the beginning. Who says we need to talk?” I say with a wink that feels harder to perform than I expect. Suddenly my body and my brain are at war. While the former desperately wants to fuck her, the latter is terrified at the idea because that’s what I used to do. That’s how I fucked up again and again and again.
“God, yes, talking is so overrated,” she says lowering her legs and sitting up straighter, her hands by her sides. “Do you want to... go somewhere where we cannottalk?”
Her implied meaning is as clear as the bright moon I can now see high in the darkening sky, and maybe that's why it takes me by surprise. Even though she made my dick harder than anyone else has in months, just sitting next to her and taking in the briefest glimpses of her tanned skin, the shape of her arms and legs, the curves of her neck and hips, I am still taken aback that she’s telling me she wants it too, that she’s feeling the same kind of heat I feel.
But I don’t want it. Or rather, I don’t want to want it. I suddenly and vehemently don't want to only indulge my dick and newfound libido. I definitely don’t want that today of all days.
“Actually, I’m really sorry,” I say, a slight croak in my voice. “I think I have to go in a few minutes.”
“Go?” Her head pulls back.
“Yeah, I promised my parents I’d join them for dinner, and I shouldn’t be late.” I suddenly despise the sound of my own voice.
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Jenna says, glancing at our glasses that are both still quite full.
“I’m sorry,” I rush out. “I’m a fecking eejit and I probably should have told you that sooner. I tend to do this, you know, fuck things up.”
Jenna looks at me, unblinking. “Don’t talk about yourself like that, Marty,” she says after a pause. A string of seconds long enough that I watch her search my face, looking for something I’m not sure she finds. “Am I allowed to ask why you're on holiday with your parents... and your smoking hot sister?” I can see what she’sdoing. Trying to make me smile again. I wish I could indulge her and make her think it’s working but I can’t. I’m fast running out of energy and focus and just any kind of clear-thinking.
“It's a long story...” Feeling guilty, I reach for my phone again and see I now have five minutes to get up to the restaurant. I look at Jenna as I ready myself to go, but her pout, her wide eyes, the constellation of freckles across her face make me stop. I’ll go in five. I can be tenminutes late. That would be okay.
“So... veto?” Jenna asks.
I shake my head as I sit back. I’ve had enough of that word no matter the amount of trouble it’s saved me tonight. “Honestly, it's a free holiday. I won't be able to afford to go to a place like this for a long time. They offered, I wanted to top up my tan, so win-win.” I hope she goes along with it. I'm not technically lying, just being selective with the truth. “I also missed the sunshine. I was living in Ibiza last year and it's been hard being back in Dublin after six months in the sun,” I add because that much is true.
“Lucky you,” she says. “I love Ibiza.”
“Yeah,” I say, leaving it at that.
“But do you like being in Dublin? You're young. You could live anywhere.”
I choose to only answer the first part of her question. “Yeah, I love Dublin. It's my home. It's where I grew up. It's where...”
It's where I met and grew up with my best friend. It's where I fell in love for the first time. It's also where everything fell apart.
“Home is home,” she finishes for me.
“Is London home for you? Is that where your parents are too?”
It’s Jenna’s turn to flinch. “Don’t you have to go?”
