Francesca rolled her eyes and gestured to the poster over our heads. I really should have made more effort to find out what other people my age liked. I’d lived in a bubble with my dad and the Daltons — they weren’t like other people. No wonder Jeremy had found it so hard to make friends here.
“Who do you like then?” Francesca crunched another biscuit and dropped the tin in my lap.
“Er…”Don’t say Enya.Don’t say Enya.“Enya,” I said.
Francesca snorted a laugh. “You’re so funny.”
I laughed along, making a mental note to hide, or even bin my Enya cassette in the unlikely event that Francesca would ever set foot inside my room.
“I’ll make you a mixtape sometime,” she said.
“Really?”
“Yeah, of course.” The stereo whirred and clicked to a stop. Francesca bounced up from the bed and rattled through a stack of tape cases on the desk before raising one of them in the air like a prize. “The Pixies, now we’re talking.”
She twisted the dial, and the bassline throbbed from the small speakers. Francesca swayed her arms and then held them out to me. “Dance with me.”
“I can’t. I mean… I have two left feet.”
“You don’t need to be good at it.” She pulled me up. I groaned but muted my protest when she put her hands on my waist. Heat flared through me at her touch.
“You’re all stiff. Try to loosen up.” She pulled me closer to her, which had the opposite effect of loosening me up. My nerves pulsed with her proximity. Her hands touched the tender skin around the top of my jeans as she swayed our bodies together. She threw her head back as the song hit its refrain, eyes closed and lost in reverie. “Oooh, Kim Deal’s voice,” she moaned. “It’s so… arousing.”
I didn’t know who Kim Deal was, so I couldn’t speak for the effects of her voice, but Francesca’s pelvis rocking into mine was setting me alight. I wanted more but had noidea how she’d react if I made a move, or even what the next move was for that matter.
Francesca threaded her hands behind my neck, and I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, she was staring at me. My heart clamoured in my chest as her lips parted. Her gaze dropped to my mouth, like it had in the kitchen the other night, and the room shrunk to just the space between us.
As she leaned in, I pulled away, breaking the rhythm of our sway. She looked startled and quickly spun away to turn the music off. Embarrassment and shame doused my desire. I’d ruined the moment. Kissing her was all I’d thought about for days, and I’d ruined it. I glanced at my watch, eyes widening at the time.
“Shit — I said I’d meet Jeremy at the library.”
Francesca hugged her arms around herself. “Go if you have to.”
A loaded silence charged the air, and I felt myself diminish under her penetrating gaze.
“Why don’t you come with me? I could introduce you to Jeremy, and the three of us could get a drink together afterwards.”
Francesca’s left eyebrow arched as if I’d suggested something utterly ridiculous.
“Sorry, I just thought… maybe…”
Her features softened, and her lips quirked into a wry smile. “Alright, I will.”
I exhaled, unsure whether I was more surprised I’d had the guts to ask her, or that she’d actually agreed. I mean, itwasn’t a date exactly — Jeremy would be there — but I felt like she’d given me a second chance. If the universe gifted me another opportunity to kiss her, I wouldn’t mess it up.
4
SPICE UP YOUR LIFE
PRESENT DAY
Aloud bang snatched Catherine from sleep. She sat up, blinking in the darkness. After listening for a moment and hearing nothing, she took a long sip of water and nestled back amongst her duck-feather pillows.
When Catherine closed her eyes again, Francesca’s face floated behind them — a shimmering spectre of the woman she’d once adored. Those dark eyes bored into her, threatening to pull her in like black holes.
Stop it; she’s a ghoul.
Catherine kicked the duvet off her feet and wriggled into a new position, enjoying the sensation of her silk pyjamas sliding against her fresh sheets. She focussed on counting breaths — a technique she often coached her clients with — a good way to occupy an overactive mind and pull herself back from spiralling thoughts… about the goddamn Daltons.
