Page 65 of Game Point
I span around on the spot, peering up the stairs at her door, expecting it to be wide open, expecting to be caught red handed. But the hallway was still empty and unlit, the noise from her room quiet now. A second realization dawned on me.
I would never wonder how my name would sound coming from (my friend) Dylan’s mouth as she came. Never have to wonder what kind of rasp it would carry. Because now I knew, the sound seared into my memory like a torturous brand. Much like the inside of the box, and now the image of her, wrapped up in her bed sheets, her fingers in between her legs.A toy vibrating between her thighs.
I told myself I’d misheard. Maybe she knew a differentOliver. Maybe … maybe anything other than it beingmy name.
Now all I had to do was survive the rest of my trip without losing my mind around her. A situation I felt was less and less likely every day I spent here.
23
Dylan
New Perspective – Noah Kahan
‘Don’t be nervous,’ I said, staring over at the house tucked off the road by a manicured lawn, a stone path leading up to the porch and a cutesy red door.
‘I’m not nervous,’ Oliver replied from the passenger seat beside me.
I took a deep breath in. ‘It’s only my parents,’ I started, looking up to the front window, my childhood bedroom. I remembered climbing onto the porch roof, falling off the grating and down into Mum’s favourite flower bed. I was never sure what she was madder about, me sneaking out to parties or squishing her grevillea flowers. I continued, ‘And the rest of the family.’
Beside me, Oliver kept his voice calm, as if the problem was him. ‘I love parents. I’m great with sisters –’
I turned to face him, biting my lip. ‘I wasn’t talking to you.’
His brows pressed together, a bewildered smile playing on his lips. ‘Why are you nervous?’
‘I don’t know,’ I lied, the list truly endless. ‘Something about all my close family members in one room really freaks me out. Like, it should only happen at funerals or Christmas, and it is neither. They are very loud and opinionated. Whatever you do, don’t agree to play Monopoly.’
‘What’s wrong with Monopoly?’
‘What isn’t wrong with that game?’ I rolled my eyes.Maybe I hadn’t prepared him properly for the chaotic Bailey storm he was walking into.Being the fifth in a loud family had been a lot, not to mention the cousins and second cousins. I was always the youngest, always feeling out of place, and never allowed to pick the Monopoly token I wanted.
‘Come on,’ he said, a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine in one hand, his other on the door handle. ‘It won’t be that bad,’ he added, climbing out into the Australian summer heat.
I repeated his words in a high-pitched voice, locking the rental car behind us.
‘You know,’ I said, jogging to catch up with him, ‘it’s not too late to back out.’
‘Why would we do that?’ he said, taking a step onto the path, his gaze inspecting Mum’s flowers.
‘Australians,’ I replied, with a shrug. ‘Dad could have a trained Drop Bear for when I bring boys home.’
He laughed as we arrived at the front door. ‘Oh, I’m sure I’ll be fine.’
I barely had the chance to reply before the door in front of us swung open, my dad on the other side. Immediately, I was wrapped up in a hug, his loud calls for my mum ringing in my ear.
‘Oh, it’s good to see you. It’s been months! How are you healing up?’ my dad asked, his arms only getting tighter around me. His grey hair brushed against my cheek, the familiar smell of him surrounding me.
‘I’m good, how are you going?’ I stretched my ownarms around him, closing my eyes for a second to enjoy the embrace.God, I’d missed him.
‘I am old.’ Dad’s arms released me. He turned to my left, eyeing Oliver suspiciously. ‘Who’s this fellow?’ he teased.
‘This is Oliver. He’s a friend,’ I said, offering him up as if he was a sacrifice. ‘Oliver, this is Thomas, my dad.’
Dad’s wild brows creased together. ‘Anderson?’ he gruffed.
Oliver smiled politely, any fear hidden well. ‘The very one.’
Dad’s posture relaxed, his hand stretched out. ‘I like the way you serve. It’s always very good.’
