Drawn (3 page)

“I can look after myself,” I told him through gritted teeth, extending out my arm and pushing him in the chest. He doesn’t even move.

“Obviously,” he says, a slight grin turning up the corner of his mouth as he holds my eyes.

“Is everything ok?” Aaron asks as he emerges from his apartment. He moves to stand beside me, his arms crossed over his firm chest as he looks between myself and
Damien.

“Aaron,”
Damien says with a nod.

“
Damien,” he responds.

“So, you dated a minor huh?”
Damien starts.

“Fuck you. She was seventeen when we dated. The legal age is sixteen dickwad.”

“I was referring to the fact that legally, you aren’t an adult ’til eighteen. But if you want to tell me about your sex life, that’s fine too.”

“Um…guys. I’m standing right here,” I say, although my words fall on deaf ears.

“Well, we can’t all go around using the fact that we’re an ‘artist’ to trick girls into sleeping with us,” Aaron bites back, using his fingers to quote the word.

Damien
presses his lips together as he regards Aaron, then turns his attention to the stairwell. “Speaking of art, here’s my next model now.” We all turn to see who he’s talking about, as the most gorgeous looking brunette I’ve ever seen walks, no, she slinks, up the last few stairs. “Sucks to be me huh?” he says, directing the comment at Aaron.

“
Damien.” She oozes his name in greeting. “Are we having some kind of party?”

“No Bec, these two were just stopping by.” He steps to the side a little as she glides past us all and into his apartment. “It was nice to meet you Etta. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.”

“I don’t think so,” I retort, feeling all agitated by that girl’s entrance, hating that in my mind, I’m comparing myself to her, as well as hating the pang of disappointment I feel over seeing her with him.

“We’ll see,” he grins, closing the door and leaving us both standing there.

“Don’t let him get to you. He’s just a jerk,” Aaron says, placing his hand on my back and guiding me toward the stairs.

“He doesn’t bother me,” I lie, pretending to shake off the interaction. “Although, what the hell is with this building? Are you only allowed to live in it if you’re ridiculously good looking? I feel like I’m on an episode of Next Top Model!”

“Do you think I’m ridiculously good looking?” he grins, nudging me lightly with his shoulder.

“You and Jeremy could be brothers, you look very much alike.”

“That’s not answering the question,” he laughs.

Rolling my eyes, I return his laugh. “You know I think you’re hot Aaron. You’re the man I got myself into a hell of a lot of trouble over,” I remind him, referring to the reason we were forced to break up. “Although, it’s lucky I refused to name you. I just called you ‘my boyfriend’, otherwise dad might have hunted you down and then pulled me out of school altogether.”

“The whole thing was a bit of an overreaction I thought, but hey – you’re almost eighteen. Freedom is on the horizon,” he affirms, opening the car door before I hop inside.

“He was just scared that I was going to end up like Craig,” I comment, defending my father. The loss of my brother is something my family felt intensely and as much as I’ve wished for my freedom, I’ve always understood my father’s motives.

When Craig was fifteen, he started rebelling against my dad. Being raised by an Aikido sensei meant that discipline and respect were a huge focus in our household, and as Craig got older, he felt that my father’s rules were too restrictive.

He starte
d sneaking out with his friends. I don’t know exactly what they did – I was only twelve at the time – but I do know that he changed a lot in that last year. He was belligerent, and at times incredibly hateful toward my parents, and was always preaching to me about how the other kids are allowed to have fun and we should be able to as well.

I guess I admired him for standing up to my parents, which is why I never told them that he was climbing out of his window every night. Each night, when I went to bed, I would pull up my blinds and sit there, waiting until I saw him go. He always knew I was there, and would turn around grinning at me, pressing his index finger to his lips to remind me to keep quiet.

I would wave him off, and go to bed, trying to imagine all the fun he’d be having out there with his friends. In my mind, it was all parties and fun times – and I guess, based on how he died, it probably was.

Occasionally, he’d bring something back for me – a shiny stone, a hair clip – just silly things that he obviously came across while he was out having fun. He’d slide them to me surreptitiously at breakfast with a wink when no one else was looking
, and I treasured each one like he’d given me a star from the sky.

Then spring came, and with it, the storms that swell the Nepean River to bursting point, increasing the speed of its current as the water rushes, carrying debris and other obstacles in its haste to return to the ocean.

A storm had raged for days, making it so that my brother was forced to stay home for a couple of nights. When the rains had finally cleared, I could tell from his demeanour that he was eager to leave and be with his friends.

I waved goodbye to my brother for the final time that night, and I’ll never forget that last grin as he ran toward his freedom, he didn’t even place his finger to his lips to remind me, he just smiled and ran into the night.

When I woke the next morning, it wasn’t to my brother, sitting at the breakfast table and the hope of a treasure. It was to my parents sitting on the couch, holding each other and crying as a police officer explained to them what had happened.

I stood by and listened as the officer spoke, saying that my brother and his friends had gone down to the river, drinking and messing about as teenagers are wont to do. At some point, my brother separated from the group and fell into the rushing water, and due to his inebriated state, he didn’t make it out alive.

Eventually, I felt so guilty that I broke down and told them that I knew he was leaving. As a result, it was deemed that I couldn’t be trusted and my life became school, home and study. Of course, as I got older, I started to rebel too. I guess I followed in my brothers footsteps a little too closely, because when my father caught me sneaking out my bedroom window, he immediately nailed it shut and after interrogating me about why I was sneaking out and who I was going to see, he forbade me to date and kept even closer tabs on my whereabouts.

And so, the countdown began. I decided that the moment I turned eighteen, I was moving out and having a life of my own – I can’t live with all that fear anymore. I miss Craig too. I just can’t mourn him forever. I need to live, and I know that’s what he would have wanted – he’d want me to be free.

“Let’s go and get your life back by finding you some place to live,” Aaron announces as he starts the car, breaking into my thoughts. 

“Good idea,” I say smiling, knowing that wherever my brother is ri
ght now, he’d be smiling too. 

Aaron’s and my version of looking at share houses, involved going to the uni and taking numbers off the various flyers posted on notice boards, then making phone calls while we sat at the café, drinking and eating our weight in coffee and blueberry muffins.

By the end of it I was bloated and shaking like I was going through withdrawals, but at least we had two places we could go and see that afternoon.

The first place was a townhouse that was around a fifteen minute walk away from the uni itself. When I called, I spoke to a girl named Jessica who said that their other roommate had to leave unexpectedly, and since they couldn’t afford the rent on their own, they needed someone quickly.

“This looks alright,” Aaron comments as we pull up out the front of the townhouses. The place we’re looking at is the very first one, so its
caramel coloured, side wall faces the street. “Although, if those are the bedrooms, you might want heavy curtains,” he says, indicating the side windows and the street light above us with his cobalt blue eyes.

Jessica greets us at the door, she
’s a tiny girl with light brown hair and dimples when she smiles. “Come in,” she says, holding her hand out to shake mine and then Aaron’s.

A small grin pulls at the corner of my mouth as I notice her do a double take when she’s confronted with Aaron. It’s probably exactly how I responded when I first met him. He’s wonderfully tall, a good inch above me, has blond sun streaked hair and big blue eyes that seem to glow like jewels from within his tan face. He’s one of those lean athletic looking guys, so he’s not overly muscled, but he’s beautiful to look at. I tend to joke that that’s the only reason I keep him around. But that’s not true - he’s a good friend, and he’s never made me feel like a child. Other guys would have just moved on after my dad banned me from dating him, but not Aaron, he’s a loyal friend. 

“So what degree are you doing Etta?” she asks as she shows me through the townhouse. Downstairs is all white walls and beige carpets in the small living and dining area. The furniture is all second hand but comfortable looking, and there are a few nick-knacks around as evidence that this is a girl’s home.

“Communications,” I reply, following her around as I take in the amenities. There is also a small kitchen, laundry and second toilet downstairs, as well as a postage stamp courtyard
out back.

“Ok, one of my friends does
that. She’s first year as well. Do you know a girl called Tanya? She’s really little with curly blonde hair.”

“No, sorry. I’m actually third year.”

“Really? Sorry, I thought you were my age.”

“I am,” I reply. “Well, I’ll be eighteen in a few days.”

She gives me a questioning look, and I briefly explain the whole skipping grades thing to her as she leads us upstairs to see the bedroom and main bathroom area.

“She left her furniture behind, so you’re welcome to it. I know she took a trip with her dad to Ikea and got it all there at the beginning of the year. You’ll have to provide all of your own linens and pillows and whatnot.”

The bedroom is fairly simple, it has a built in cupboard for my clothes, a tall boy with a mirror on top of it, along with a small computer desk, swivel chair and a single bed in the middle.

“What’s the rent?” Aaron asks, as he moves over the window and tests the thickness of the curtains.

“One-fifty,” she replies.

“A week?” I ask.

“Yeah, then we divide all of the bills between us. You shop for your own food though.”

“Great,” I say, following her back down the stairs and into the living area.

“So when do you think you can move in?” she asks, surprising me, as I thought she’d at least want to talk to her other housemate before giving me the room.

“Oh…
um,” I start.

“If you need time to think, that’s cool. I just thought, if you like it – you can have it. We need help with the rent and you seem nice, so…” she tilts her head to the side a little and bounces a shoulder.

“You know what? Yeah. I’ll take it. I’ll have to move in next weekend. My Dad will flip it if I move in this week,” I tell her.

“Sounds great,” she says.

We work out a few of the particulars of the move, such as a deposit to hold the room and my portion of the bond money, and by the time we have finished, the front door opens.

“Kensi,” Jessica exclaims. “Come and meet our new flat mate, Etta.”

“Oh you got one. Great,” she says, dropping her knapsack on the floor and walking over to me, her short severe black bob barely moves as she walks.

I stand from my seat to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you,” I say.

“Holy shit. Look at the size of you.”

Smiling politely, I return to my seat. Although my sitting height is almost the same as Kensi’s standing height, she has birdlike limbs and very pale features, made even starker by her dark crimson lipstick.

“So ‘Etta’ huh?” Kensi confirms, sitting on the chair next to Jessica. “Is that your whole name or is it short for something?”

“It’s short, for Henrietta actually. Although I won’t answer you if you call me that,” I grin. “It’s a horrible name.”

“Better than ‘Kensi’,” she laughs. “You should try spelling that all your life. I’ve been called ‘Kendi’ ‘Kenny’ ‘Kenthi’ – the list goes on.”

“Listen, since your moving in and all, maybe we should all go out beforehand?” Jessica suggests, looking behind her at Aaron who’s been sitting on the couch playing with his phone while he waits for me to finish up. “Are you guys going to the Scarlet Party at the World Bar next Thursday? It’s free for all UWS students. ”

“I remember getting the email for it, but I hadn’t really thought about it,” Aaron replies.

“Oh, hello there,” Kensi says, spinning in her chair. “I didn’t see you when I came in.”

“I’m Aaron,” he says, standing to shake her hand in greeting.

“Well, I can see why Etta likes you Aaron. You’re obscenely tall too,” she grins, raking her eyes obviously over his body as she touches her tongue to her front teeth.