Margot’s Rumour

Santiago’s House

The drive with Santiago was relatively quiet and blissfully uneventful.

As they pulled into a cul-de-sac Margot noticed they were going to the same house as she had been last Saturday. The notorious party house. She had never seen it in the daytime before. It looked like a regular West Island family home. Larger than the typical home, that was for sure, surrounded by big trees and a lawn. She wasn’t even sure if it was a cul-de-sac or just a really wide and long private driveway.

It did not look like the house of sin it had the nights she had been there in the past. When there were often teens puking, making out, or fighting on the lawn like the spill over of some kind of 21st century orgy. Or the trifecta of a teenage movie.

It was then that Margot realized she didn’t really remember the entire night. She had been drinking- not to the point of black out. For that she was thankful. But some of the details were still fuzzy. Like why exactly were they holding each other in bed. Why was Santiago only in his boxers when she woke up?

Margot couldn’t imagine that Santiago would stay in a room with her just chatting all night if he didn’t get something out of it. Even if that was just a drunk kiss. There were plenty of girls falling over him, throwing themselves at him. He didn’t need to trap a drunk girl in a room with him all night to have a bit of fun.

But maybe she had said something, Margot trailed off in her mind. She really didn’t remember. And that was embarrassing. For the first time Margot was not prepared to deal with a situation, nor did she have a game plan. Or her preferred multiple game plans to deal with any contingency.

They got out of the car and walked into the massive entryway of the house. Santiago led them to the kitchen. Saying hello and giving a kiss on the check to an elderly who seemed to be puttering around the kitchen.

“Yaya, this is Margot. We have a project to do, we are going to be needing snacks! Margot, is there anything you don’t eat?”

“No, anything is fine. Thank you.”

“Yaya, makes the best food anywhere!” He directed at Margot still hugging the elderly lady. Santiago seemed to have an effect on all women regardless of their age, she was smiling like crazy.

“We will be in my room. Yaya don’t carry up the tray I’ll come back and get the snack once I show Margot to my room and get set up okay?” He took the old lady by the shoulders and said, “you promise?”

The old lady nodded her head and patted Santiago on the head. And once she seemed to promise enough for Santiago, he let her go and instead went to Margot, grabbed her by the wrist and led her up the stairs just past the kitchen.

Just like he had during the party. Was he expecting the same thing to happen? Was he planning to pick up where they left off - in each other’s arms?

Margot was so distracted by analysing everything she had not recognized where they were going until she found herself in a familiar room. It was the same large bedroom they had spent the night together, but they had used a different entrance. Looking around she realized how many doors this room had. She had been so lucky that she had found the right door that led to the staircase that let her outside that night. Or else she could have gotten stuck in a bathroom, closet or even walked into the kitchen to a group of hungover party guests that like her had been too drunk to make their way home.

“Chill Margot, take a seat on the couch. You have been here before, no need to be all formal.”

Margot walked over to the desk and placed down her bag, getting out her note books and assignment package that Mr B had given them that afternoon. Santiago flopped on the couch, turned on the TV, opening up a streaming site, looked over and said, “So what are you thinking?”

“I’m not thinking about anything!”

Santiago chuckled, “I mean for the project, is there a theme or a trope you wanted to start with?”

Margot stayed clinged to the desk worried about what would happen if she took a place next to Santiago on the couch.

“We should probably pick a genre. I think romance, don’t you? They always remake romance movies, it must be the same with books too right. Like even romance movies have action or thriller moments, but not all action movies have a romance subplot. So it keeps our comparatives open. Right?”

Margot was shocked how seriously he was taking this assignment. He wasn’t wrong as he continued to explain the benefits of picking romance. One of which was the fact that all the other groups were guys and they would probably pick an action or super hero theme because it meant watching cool movies and comic books. Santiago continued to flip through the offering on the site carrying on the conversation. Breezing passes Margot’s new found inability to speak.

“Oh yeah. The snacks! Be right back, take this.”

He handed Margot the remote. “Pick something” he said and rushed out the door down the stairs.

Margot was in shock. The bed had caught her eye when Santiago rushed past her. She had images of them cuddling, him stroking her hair. She remembered a feather light kiss and drifting hands. What she couldn’t remember was whether they had been dreams or what actually happened.

“Yaya”

“Holy Sh*t” Margot shouted holding her chest from the shock of Santiago behind her.

Santiago walked past her continuing on with his thoughts as he placed the tray on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“As I was saying- Yaya, had some cake and she made the best fruit salad. I didn’t know what you wanted to drink but I brought some tea because it goes well with the cake.”

Margot still hadn’t moved. Her hand was on the desk still clutching it for support. They had been there for maybe 20 minutes and all she had to say was in response to direct questions.

“Margot, chill, you would think you would be calm after having slept with me.”

Her face whipped in Santiago direction, “I did WHAT!” She shouted maybe a little louder than she expected. Her heart started racing, had she really blacked out.

“Wow. Okay poor choice of words.” Santiago threw his hands up in a defensive method. “I meant slept in my bed” he paused, “with me.”

Santiago sat down looking a little hurt, “You didn’t think we” he started fidgeting. “you thought I would.” He looked deflated, more hurt that Margot had ever seen a guy. Santiago then straightens and looked over at her. “You know we didn’t have s*x, relax. I wouldn’t have done that to you.”

“Oh.”

Wait what did that mean I wouldn’t have done that to you. “OH!” She started to feel a cold sweat, she was even more embarrassed now than if they had slept together.

“No, Margot.” Santiago leaned forward running his hands through his hair and drawing a long breath. “Ugh what I mean is — well I wouldn’t have done that to anyone. You know I don’t need to, and more importantly I do NOT want to, force myself on anyone.” He moved to now look at her and with a deflated soft voice he said, “Have you heard otherwise?”

Margot was relieved, she did not like the idea of being undesirable to Santiago. Suddenly that was important to her. She wondered if it was because he had held her all night, or because he had not tried anything but suddenly she needed his approval. She had never really sought it out from him before.

He was staring at her and she suddenly realized he had just asked her a question.

“No!” Oh no that was said a little too aggressively Margot had not meant to insult or suggest he had done anything against her will. It was the way he had said it so casually that caught her. She needed to lighten the mood. And not seem like a crazy teenager. “I guess my reputation as a good little virgin is saved,” she said jokingly.

Santiago could not help but laugh out loud. Margot felt a smile pull on her lips — she had made him laugh.

“You think that’s reputation?”

“It isn’t?”

“H*ll no!”

So that laugh was not at her calling poking fun at the innocent bookworm reputation she thought she had. Margot moved to the couch. Sitting beside Santiago for the first time. “Then what is it?”

Santiago took a deep breath, staring deep into her eyes. He moved a strand of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes, “do you really want me to tell you?”