We had this heater when I was a kid. I think we’d inherited it from my grandparents, because it was very old-fashioned. It was electric, a wood-panelled box with a steel grate in front of the heating element. When you turned it on, the element went bright red, radiant with heat, so hot that you could see the air shimmer around it.
Modern radiant heaters have temperature control. There are safety rules and things, so you can only turn them up so high, the same way they build some cars with speed limiters. But this one was old, so you could really crank it. If youturned it up too high, it would start to vibrate. Dad used to love to turn it up too high – ‘I run cold,’ he’d say, putting his arthritic fingers so close to the red-hot part that it always amazed me he didn’t get burned.
A few months after he died, I turned the heater on as high as it would go and curled up in a ball in front of it. It started to shake. So did I, crying.
But it got too hot in front of the heater, so I got up to open a window. I was halfway across the room when it exploded.
That was how I felt now. I was red-hot, the air bright and shimmery around me, shaking harder and harder, about to explode.
There was a tap at the bathroom door. ‘Mandie?’
‘No!’
‘Mandie, please!’
‘I said no, Dylan!’
‘Mandie, just tell me what’s wrong!’
I yanked the door open and pulled her in. I caught a glimpse of Suzette and a whole bunch of crew behind her before I slammed it again.
I turned the sink on, as high as it could go. ‘Mandie—’ Dylan started.
‘Do you really want to have this conversation right now?’ I hissed, turning the shower on as well. ‘Seriously? With half the Villa outside the door?’
‘Mandie, can you just look at me?’
I looked at her.
‘I need to apologise to you,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry.’
The shower spray was soaking the cuffs of my jeans.I folded my arms, digging my fingers into the flesh of my biceps.
‘I know that just because you’re into women doesn’t mean you’re into me,’ she said. ‘I just thought… the other morning, I asked if you felt it too. You said you did.’
‘What the fuck, Dylan?’ I snarled.
She looked at the ground.
‘Of course I fucking felt it too,’ I said. ‘Do you know how confusing this has been for me? To have all these little signals from you? All these little moments? Having to constantly be like, “Calm down, Mandie, it’s all in your head,” whenit wasn’t fucking all in my head?’
‘I know,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Why couldn’t you just be up-front with me?’ I said. ‘How hard would it have been to tell me the truth? When I was like, “Hey, guess what, I date women,” how hard would it have been to say, “Oh cool, me too.”?’
She closed her eyes and bit her lip.
‘You do, right?’ I said. ‘Or am I some straight-girl experiment?’
‘Of course you’re not an experiment!’ she said, opening her eyes again. ‘I’m not as experienced as you. I got married so young, and then I had Noah… I’ve kissed women, sure, fooled around with them, but I’ve never really dated a woman properly, never had a girlfriend or anything like that. But…’
‘But you’re bi.’
‘I’ve never used the word,’ she said. ‘It’s not a side of myself that I’ve had much of a chance to explore. But… yes. I’m attracted to women. Yes.’
‘And it didn’t occur to you to tell me this?’ I bit out. ‘When we were outside, and I was spilling my guts to you about Jac? When you were asking me all those questions about why I didn’t tellyouI was bi?’
She buried her face in her hands, digging her fingers into her temples. ‘Fuck, I’ve messed this up so badly,’ she said. ‘I’m so sorry, Mandie.’
