Page 23 of Forever Summer

Chris laughed. “Bloody hell.” His footsteps made their way out of the room and down the hall.

I sighed, feeling the weight of the cover engulf me, lovingly adjusted over me, with the corners tucked in to ward off a wayward chill. I felt the bed dip next to me, and a cool hand sweep away the hair from my brow. I could barely make out Tammy’s face, but I knew the look anyway. A sad smile and kind eyes, pity. I was grateful for the poor lighting.

“You know what? You are going to feel so much better tomorrow, I promise.”

“Breakfast in bed?” I croaked.

Tammy laughed. “A million times better than that.”

I frowned. “What could be better than that?” I yawned.

Tammy rubbed my shoulder. “Surprising Tess.”

The bed creaked as Tammy stood, her light footsteps making their way toward the door. “Night, Ellie.”

“Mmm hmm,” I managed, snuggling into Adam’s doona, taking in a deep breath. I was disappointed they didn’t smell like him. Still, with the aid of a belly full of booze and the familiarity of Adam’s room, I had little doubt that despite wherever Adam was, and whoever Adam was with, I would slip into a deep, comfortable sleep. That was the only benefit of being drunk. Senses are dulled, so pain I should be experiencing was softened. Megsy Fucking Who?

Eleven

I never heard him come to bed. I assumed he was sleeping at his parents’ house. I stirred from my slumber the moment Adam kicked the bed by accident.

“Shit. Fuck.”

The mattress bounced as he fell onto the edge of the bed, swearing and whimpering about his stubbed toe. I was wide awake now, but ever so still in my little blanketed cocoon. It was safe to say he knew I was here, seeing he was trying so hard to be quiet. I spied the darkened outline of his silhouette in the room and smiled. The shadow limped over toward the direction of the dresser; he was trying to feel his way across the room, his palms skimming along the wall, then the dresser itself, based on the sound of crashing objects.

“Fuck. Shit,” he whispered.

I started to giggle, trying to muffle the sound under the blanket, if not rather unsuccessfully.

“Where the hell am I?” Adam complained, lost in his own room.

I scooted up straight, leaning over to click the bedside light on, casting the room in an eerie, yellowy glow. Adam was in the far corner of his room, hands splayed against his cupboard door. He turned around, squinting against the light.

“I would be a crap homing pigeon,” he said sheepishly, looking around at his foreign placement in his room.

“What are you doing?” I said, glancing at the clock and feeling utterly relieved to know that by basic calculation Adam had obviously just dropped Meg off and come straight back. What could have happened as a part of a goodbye though was something I didn’t want to think about right now.

“I am trying to go to bed,” he said, opening his cupboard like it was exactly where he wanted to be. He glanced inside, and then shut the doors, before coughing and making his way across the other side to the tall boy. “As you were.” He nodded with a little smirk.

“I think I’ll wait,” I said, sitting against the bedhead, crossing my arms.

Adam opened up the top drawer, grabbing some boxers out like I knew he would. I knew pretty much all of Adam’s movements before he did: he would go to the bathroom, have a shower, brush his teeth and then hop into bed, hair all damp, smelling of mint and Lynx deodorant, ready to go to sleep like a good Boy Scout. It had me suddenly realising how I hadn’t exactly behaved like a Girl Scout. I probably had raccoon eyes and matted hair; I was still fully clothed having merely been dumped here. I still felt a little foggy, but I sure as hell wasn’t staying this way.

“Um, hang on, can I use the bathroom first?” I asked, pulling back the blankets and moving toward my bag to grab my nightie and toiletry bag. Too bad, the terms was non-negotiable, I didn’t want Adam seeing me like this, being reminded with how awful I had behaved tonight.

“Ugh, seriously?”

“In and out, I swear.”

“Yeah, well, don’t be three hours,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed already losing patience.

I did what the old Ellie would do, I flipped him the bird while I exited the room. Adam merely caught it and clutched it to his heart as if I had blown him a kiss. He was such an idiot, I thought, walking down the hall with a big goofy grin on my face.

After rubbing, scrubbing, lathering, soaping my skin to pinkness—I mean, I had been sitting on the ladies’ toilet floor, after all—I quickly blow-dried my hair; if it was the one thing I had been taught by my mum, it was not to go to bed with wet hair. I could just imagine Adam rolling his eyes at the sound of the blow-dryer coming to life. It gave me a sick kind of pleasure thinking about annoying him a little. Hair dried, I would usually pull it up into a messy bun, but I left it down instead. I began my normal nightly ritual of moisturising my legs, brushing my teeth, and then spraying my Tommy Girl perfume in the air before doing a pirouette into the mist; okay, so I didn’t exactly wear perfume to bed, but hey.

Looking at my reflection, satisfied with the result, I turned, then whipped open the bathroom door. A cloud of steam escaping into the hall, I was about to step through it—much like a magician would—but was stilled by Adam leaning on the other side of the doorjamb looking bored.

“You done?” he deadpanned.

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