‘That’s the perfect look. Do it now. Slap me hard as you can.’
Amie looks aghast. ‘Then what?’
‘Then you stomp over to your mates, grab them by the arm, and drag them self-righteously the hell outta here. You got it? So do it.’
Amie rears back, her eyes horrified, but she does it. She winds up and open-hands me, right across the cheek. It bloody hurts. My head whips, Amie gasps, then I feel her barging away.
I give it a few seconds, stagger off the dance floor, do a quick surreptitious check around. Amie and her mates are bolting out. My cheek stings like buggery but the rest of my body relaxes. I make a ‘what can you do?’ gesture at Snowie and Ando, who are pissing themselves laughing at the table, before lurching to the men’s.
Splashing some water on my face helps, but the adrenalin of the last few minutes has me shaking. Plus the memory of cupping Amie’s arse… I’ve run my hand under the tap twice, but it’s like my fingers have been napalmed. I stand at the grotty men’s wash basin for another two breaths, getting my shit together, before I’ve got enough in me to go back to the table and make raucous jokes about it with Snowie and Ando.
It’s another hour before I can finally make my excuses and piss off. I don’t go home straightaway though: I pull over a couple of blocks before Amblin Court and yank my phone out of my pocket, send a quick text and hope Amie isn’t asleep already. I chew my thumbnail as I stare out the windshield at the night, then jump when the phone brays in my hand.
Amie sounds breathless, like she did in the club. ‘Harris –’
‘I’m sorry,’ I cut in quickly, ‘God, I’m sorry, I’m probably waking you up, I just wanted to check –’
‘You’re not…’ There’s a little pause. ‘You’re not waking me up at all. I’m glad you texted.’
‘Shit, Amie, about the club –’
‘It’s okay,’ she says.
‘It’snotokay. I just freaked the fuck out when I saw you. I didn’t mean to stuff up your night out –’
‘D’you really think I care about my night out?’ Her voice is shaky. ‘For god’s sake, Harris…’ I hear her exhale deeply into the line before her voice levels out. ‘Seriously, I was worried I’d blown your cover. I didn’t even know we weregoingto Flamingos until the last minute, and I came this close to dumping you right in it.’
It sounds like she’s trying to forgive herself for that. I only hope she forgivesme– for feeling her up on the dance floor. ‘Amie, listen. I didn’t want to offend you, or see you get hurt. I’m sorry I did what I did. And you only slapped me cos I asked you to, so don’t stress about that. It was just… It was a bad situation.’
‘It was supposed to be this civilised night out with my cousin…’ She sighs, but there’s a bit of genuine humour coming back into her tone now.
My imagination is only too happy to supply a vision of her sitting in bed in her pajamas, raking back her hair. Except she’s not in her room in Walpeup now, she’s in her nanna’s house in Mildura –
‘So, um, did you make it home okay?’
‘Yeah.’ I close my eyes, but my brain won’t let up. ‘I mean, yeah, I left the club about twenty minutes ago. But I’m not home yet. I just stopped to make sure you’re all right.’
‘I’m fine.’ She pauses. ‘Is your face sore?’
That gets a laugh out of me. ‘It is a bit tender, now you mention it.’
‘Oh god –’
‘It’s no big deal, I’ve had worse.’
There’s a bit of silence down the line. I can’t help but think that, putting aside the first trumpeting blat of panic at seeing her in the club, what I remember most is when we were pressed up against each other in the crowd. The way we moved together. The soft roundness of her, cupped in my hand…
‘Stay safe, Harris.’ Her voice is quiet. ‘I’d better go. It’s late, and the wedding’s tomorrow. My auntie will be wondering why I’m still up.’
I force myself to snap back. ‘Good luck for the wedding.’
‘Thanks.’ Now I can hear her smiling.
‘Watch out for roos on the drive back to Walpe.’
‘Will do. And I’ll tell Dad what you told me.’
‘Okay, good. And text me…’ I swallow, hope I don’t sound too eager. Ah, fuck it. ‘Text me when you figure out a way to meet up again.’
