The Rebel

Liam

Liam

I can’t believe I have allowed myself to be coaxed into this madness. I will wring Lilly’s neck when I see her – I grumble to myself on the back seat of the taxi. My fingers are drumming nervously on my knee as I stare into the London night while out of the corner of my eye, I see the pretty blonde alluringly batting her eyelashes at me I can already see how embarrassing it will be when I walk her to the door of her apartment and she realizes I won’t be going inside with her.

I give her an unwilling smile as I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t want to go too far in case she would misunderstand it. Not that she is not an attractive woman. Albeit in a cheap way, but she is, and I’m not the only one who noticed it, so did every single waiter at the restaurant and most if the guests. Wavy, shoulder-length blond locks, round booty, thin waist, kind of… like a Monroe-type, 90% sure her t**s are not real. They are too erect under her shirt. They are at least a size D, another reason why the tissues would resist gravity so well.

I sigh and run my fingers through my hair when I realize that the doctor in me was speaking again. Our eyes meet, and she acknowledges with a contented smile that I have been checking out her breasts for a while. Damn! Why the hell am I sending her dubious signals?

I hate these blind dates; they are simply not my style. What can we do, not everyone is a Dylan Stark – I grin unwillingly, thinking of my mate –, but I just couldn’t say no to my sister when she begged me to agree to the double date. We hadn’t seen each other in so long, and now that they came for a visit from Egypt for a week – she and her boyfriend, Jim arsehole Osborne – I didn’t want to disappoint her. Lily made it her goal to put an end to my life as a hermit, as she put it, and she wanted to pair me up with one of her female friends whatever it takes. She also said it was time for me to move on, as it had been four years that thing had happened. I don’t argue. She is right. It’s high time, and it’s not even that I don’t want to move on, but… It’s not enough to feel determined, everything else has to work out. I never made it longer than a week with anyone, not even with the sexy little nurse from the clinic. What was her name again? I scratch my head musingly. Valery? Vanessa? I’m sure her name started with a V...

And now here sits Miss Monroe plus her plastic boobs next to me, and I’m working on how the hell to insinuate nicely that we are not going to get naughty tonight. As the taxi slows down at the given address, I’m wondering what if I’m just overly paranoid. The girl is really hot, and well, I’m more than ready for a thorough… True, other than my d**k, she wasn’t affecting any other body parts of mine through the night, but I might be at fault. Are my expectations too high?

I pay for the taxi, help Miss Monroe out of the car, and she, rhythmically swaying her key and her backside in front of me, starts for her entrance. I obediently follow her up the stairs while she goes on about how she only lives here temporarily, because she hates the area. What should I say? Stratford wouldn’t be the home of my dreams either, that’s for sure. It’s a good thing I took her home. I would hate it if this very night, right after our dinner some homeless guy would rob her between the taxi and her door. She pauses at the top of the stairs, turns back, and blinks at me significantly. It amounts to a proclamation of war as she slowly moves to stick the key into the lock, and throws back her head of blond hair. All right. My throat is beginning to dry up. Maybe I should go in, after all. Then as she charmingly bites the edge of her lip, my former faux-pas comes to my mind with that girl in the bar.

I don’t think I had ever been more wasted in my life as when Dylan and I celebrated our 28th birthday together. The thing is, I’m just not born for one-night stands. I’m not good at those things, I mean, in the mornings-after, the “I’ll call you, babe” lines. Dylan always says that I overcomplicate it, I just tense up about everything. It’s possible. I don’t know. Anyhow, that night I was sloshed enough for that girl at the bar to end up in my bed, and by morning I didn’t even remember her name. It was damn embarrassing, because while the headache was splitting my brains, she had made herself very much at home, and it was well past midday that I managed to tactfully get her out of my apartment. When the chick was standing on the threshold of my clinic with a rucksack in one hand and a Chihuahua in the other, I swore there would be no other one-night stands.

The blondie opens the door, and bats her expectantly. We face each other for a second, but nothing stirs in me. It seems I’m not so horny after all, so this will suffice, and now I am certain I will spend this night alone as well. I lean in towards her and kiss her on the cheek.

“It was a great night, Carrie. Thank you. Take care of yourself, and good night.”

“But Liam— “

I draw back and move towards the steps, not giving her a chance to ask questions. I see that her chin has dropped with wonderment, there is even a wrinkle running across her forehead as she tries to decipher my behaviour. It’s not your fault, blond Carrie. I’m not an insane prick to turn down some free fun just because I can’t sense the chemistry between us.

Hands in my pockets, I gallop down the steps, out into the street, all the time feeling her stare on my back. I could bet she is sending me to hell, and for sure, she is going to call my sister to tell her what a bastard I am. But, why worry? She would have hated me even more the next day.

I would fancy a walk to air my head out, but it’s not such a good idea in this part of the city, especially late at night, so I wave down a taxi. I get out of the taxi near Camden Town, home is only a fifteen-minute walk from here. I have been in the clinic all day; fresh air feels really good. I remember that tomorrow there will be a family get-together in Lily’s honour, but somehow, I’m not even happy about this news. Of course, it’s not because of my sister, but her boyfriend. There is something about the bloke that makes my stomach churn. I couldn’t tell what it is exactly, but whenever we meet, I feel driven to kick him about the house and mop the floor with him. Although everything looks seemingly okay, I still feel something is fishy about him. Ever since Jim Osborne took that job two years ago in Cairo, and Lily has practically given up her life here to be with him, we hardly see her. Even now, they are only coming back for a few days, and my mother, for obvious reasons, would like to see as much of her as possible. My parents usually never travel due to my father’s poor health, they haven’t seen each other for over a year. Plus, Dylan is only coming back from his usual six-month sailing trip next week, so he won’t make it to my mother’s either. If there is no one to hold me back, there is a great chance that at the first remark I will erase that contented grin from Osborne’s face at the weekend.

Just as I turn off right at Prince Albert, the phone buzzes in my pocket. I bet it’s Lily. It was faster than I thought,” I think angrily, seeing her name on the display.

“Liliana,” I say with coolness as I pick up.

“What the hell have you done again?” she interrupts without saying hello.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I rub my forehead.

“You know fine well what I’m talking about, Carrie has just called to say— “

“Lily. Please,” I interrupt, as I want to spare us both the trouble. She is my sis, and I know she means well, but I still won’t discuss my s*x life with her. I can hear her exhaling deeply, then slowly breathing out.

“Oh, Liam! I just… thought that… I hoped that after such a long time…” she continues with much more consideration.

“I know, Lily. And it’s really not that I don’t see women, it’s just that somehow— “

“She’s not your type,” she finishes the sentence for me.

Woah! My type? I don’t even know if I have such a thing. Regarding looks, I’m sure there isn’t, and when it comes to the inside… it’s just too complicated to even start pondering about it. I don’t fall in love easily. I have only been in love once, and I even married that woman back during my student years. What do I really like about a woman? I don’t think I’ve placed the bar too high, at least not knowingly. If she loves me back and doesn’t die of leukaemia at 26, then most of my expectations have been met – I continue my ironic inner monologue. Of course, I would never say that out loud. You just don’t talk about things like that. Oher than feeling embarrassed, there is nothing anyone could do about this. Even Lily worries too much about me, when she had better sort out her own life.

“Carrie is a pretty girl,” I start with resignation, but I don’t really know how to go on. She simply didn’t get my imagination going. At least not enough to start anything with her. Maybe if I had been wasted like back then…

“Okay. Forget it. I understand,” she adds, and I raise my eyebrows with surprise.

“Honest?”

“The thing is, I also had a different memory of her. When we last met, she wasn’t so… so…” she is looking for the right expression, and I can almost see her twisting her hair as always when she is embarrassed.

“Plasticky?” I rush to her help, causing her to burst into laughter.

“That’s it! Plasticky.”

Now I also have to laugh. I get the feeling we are on the exact same wavelength.

“I guess, she told you all sorts of ugly things about me on the phone.”

“Just a little. For about fifteen minutes,” she grumbles. “It was dead awkward. I think she liked you and hoped something would work out.

“Then the phone call was your punishment for arranging this behind my back.”

“All right. So much about my match-making skills,” she exhales with resignation, and changes the subject. It was time. “You’re coming tomorrow, right?”

“Sure. Is Osborne going to be there too?” I ask, but only to give her a hard time.

“i***t,” she mumbles, but I can hear the smile in her voice. I howl. “What about Dylan? Is he coming? I haven’t seen him for an eternity.”

“No, sis. The Black Swan is arriving sometime next week. Apparently, he ended up with bad weather at the North Sea.”

“Crap. That really sucks. Will Dylan never come to his senses?” she asks, sounding as if she was not the youngest of us three.

“Fat chance,” I grin to myself.

“Then we will not see each other at all. By the time he gets here, we will have flown back to Cairo.”

“Looks like that,” I say, while making my way towards the park at the corner, and holding the phone tight to my ears.

I hear someone talking, a male voice in the background, and Lily heaves a big sigh. It’s probably Osborne giving her a hard time again.

“I have to hang up now, but we’ll definitely meet tomorrow.”

“Okay, birdie,” I say the name I had given her in our childhood, and which is guaranteed to melt her heart ever time, even though she was angry with me before. “Good night.”

“Liam.”

“Yes?”

“I know Jim is not your favourite, but he is my boyfriend and I love him. Try to put a hold on yourself tomorrow for my sake. Okay?”

I breathe out and scratch the back of my neck. To say he is not my favourite is to put it quite mildly, but I don’t want a scene either. As long as I can see that the guy is treating my sister well, I will hold myself back.

“For your sake, then,” I give in.

At home I get my clothes off, and stand right away under the shower. I don’t want to think about anything, I don’t want to analyse this evening. I am devastated, all I need is my bed and sleep until noon. It would be great to relax, because I have been dreaming so much crap lately, it wears me out. I feel tense and frustrated, no doubt about why. I don’t even know when I was with a woman last. The one with the Chihuahua must have been the last, but even that was months ago. It’s a good thing Dylan is coming back soon. When we are together, dating is easier.

I hold my face towards the shower head, enjoying it for a few minutes as the hot water runs down my body.

I take clean boxer shorts out of the drawer, I put them on and throw myself on my back on the bed. This bed is gigantic – the bizarre thought crossed my mind – it’s the size of a tennis court. I chose it with Zoey when everything was normal. She insisted on the size. She said I wouldn’t regret it, and she turned out to be right. Those were the days! Sometimes we made love all through the night even though we both attended university and had jobs, yet, we never felt exhausted. Happiness must have done that. Back then we were full of energy and plans…

Oh f**k! – I get the pillow angrily out from under my head and press it against my face for so long that I’m almost choking. The survival instinct wins again in me at last, and I angrily toss the pillow across the room. Why am I doing this to myself? What is the point of such masochism? Will I feel better if I think about things like that? No, I won’t, f**k it.

I turn on my side and my gaze settles on my late wife’s portrait, on the bedside table. Pain pierces through my heart as I watch her smile. It’s not such a splitting, sharp pain as it was in those first months, yet, it is pain. It’s deep and stubborn. And a kind of emptiness, that is even worse than pain. I’m alone, Zoey – it breaks out of me involuntarily, even though I know she can’t hear my words. Lily is right. I must move on. I must! It can’t go on like this – I murmur half loudly, fixing my eyes on the photo, then I turn on my back and close my eyes, running my hair tiredly through my hair. Insane! I’m having a conversation with a picture. That’s it, I’m going nuts – I think, while Zoey’s words are echoing in my head when she made me promise not to collapse but to live on. She made me swear on her death bed that I would be happy, and I promised her everything she asked. I was ready to sell my soul for the miracle that didn’t happen. Up to now, I haven’t been able to fulfil the part of my promise regarding happiness, but I am alive. I mean, life goes on, I’m not depressed, I’m not sitting at home all the time, I keep meeting my mates, I like my work, my practice is full of clients, the clinic is doing great. Sometimes I even meet women, but nothing serious. I don’t want to distance myself purposefully, it’s just that since Zoey’s death I haven’t met anyone I was genuinely interested in. Sometimes I genuinely envy Dylan his coolness with which he handles women. Okay, to say I envy him takes it a bit too far, after all, he has never had a decent relationship in his life that wasn’t solely about s*x, and that wouldn’t satisfy me on the long run. But still. He can hardly get rid of the ladies, even though I swear he’s cold as ice with them. He never promises anything, plays his cards openly from the start, never commits himself and they are still crazy about him. It’s just above me why women fall for such inaccessible guys. Of course, I assume they all want to put a smile on his grumpy face, and believe that of all people, they will be the ones to heal his wounded soul, but that’s bullshit. At least, this far there hasn’t been one to whom he wanted to commit himself. Dylan Stark is the lonely wolf type, he has always been, since our childhood. And I am – as he says – the loser who will go for marriage, who married his first love back at university. I can say Dylan and I had a few wild moves regarding girls, but that was before Zoey. We have always been brothers from a different mother. And good brother shares everything. I mean: everything. Even women.

Damn it, my imagination wanders again to a place that will keep me awake tonight, for sure. It’s a good thing I don’t know Carrie’s phone number, because right now I’m dangerously close to call her in spite of my beliefs, and to ask if her offer is still on for tonight. And the first thing I will do next week is to chuck this f*****g bed and buy a new one. I must. Move. On.

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