Dare Me More

Chapter 3

I fixated my week as much as I could on school without being distracted by the amount of guilt suffocating my airways. 

    Monday’s test was a challenge, but after spending the night prior copying over the notes I needed, it made the process go faster. My Lavery, who carried out different accents' different weeks – this one was an Irish accent – had offered us paper for external thinking. I wasn’t convinced I received full marks, but I felt I passed in a plethora of colours. 

    When Tuesday arrived, I took my seat in the middle of the floor in the open classroom. A spatial awareness class had inspired Cole to have the students spread out in the vicinity. Today was practical and next week would be theory, so our schedule in the classroom would change. I still brought my lap top along for good measure. 

    He joined us on the floor moments later, his black suitcase trailing behind him. I leaned against my legs pressed against my chest, reminded myself to keep calm and focus on today’s lesson.  

    “Hey guys,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “Anyone else got swamped by the traffic? Really fed up with the roadworks going on.” 

    “Pretty sure they’re going to be like that for the next few weeks,” said one of the students behind a pair of sunnies. I supposed that was the evolution of acting students when they land a role in an upcoming play. “I just read they’re pumping out thousands of dollars just to get it over and done with.” 

    “Let’s hope they finish quickly,” he said, sharing a laugh. “We’re not using this as an excuse to be late for class –” 

    “Sorry!” came another student, his laptop bag pouncing against his side as he stopped to breathe. “There was a lot of traffic.” 

    The class burst out in laughter, a short one coming from myself, and Cole thumbed at the student. “My point exactly.” 

    When he talked, I tried hard to pay attention and remember who he was right now; my teacher. The difficulty was not because I knew him like nobody else did, but his mannerisms and the way he approached topic of discussion wasn’t said in a “teacher mode”, at least not in the formal kind of way. He talked to us like a friend offering advice, or a chilled speaker, or someone who, if I closed my eyes and blocked out our history, sounded different than teachers like Mr Lavery.  

    I squeezed my knees together when he looked over at me, hoping it would hide the pounding I felt in my chest. We haven’t cleared anything up since we last saw each other at the café, but I thought we’d be able to move on and clear the air today.  

    The carpet floor, rough under my palms, didn’t distract me as well as I thought. Cole kept pulling me back with his discussions on today’s class and what he wanted us to do. 

    He paired us up with other students to discuss what our fatal flaw in acting was. 

    I talked to Amelia, a student known for her theatrical acrobatics, discussed what we thought we needed work on. Her loud charismatic behaviour did well in keeping my mind off Cole for the twenty-minutes, and by the time we had our half-hour break, I had found someone to have kept my mind distracted.  

    His name was Oliver, a transferred student that joined us in second semester.  

    I went over to him as he was distracted by a book. 

    “Macbeth, huh?” 

    He looked up and I met with curious green eyes. He sat with his drama textbooks around him. “It seemed interesting. I thought I’d read it.” 

    “It is,” I said. “There’s a lot of conflict and inner-conflict in the play. Shakespeare was pretty good at creating those plot twists. It really defined the difference between good and evil.” 

    “I take it that you’re a fan of his work.” 

    I shook my head. “Not a fan, it’s more like self-insert information.”  

    He shrugged. “You don’t know what you’re missing.” He motioned at my hair. “Nice scrunchie by the way. It’s cute.” 

    My hand went over the velvet scrunchie keeping my hair up before I showed him a wide grin. “Nice try. You can’t coy me into fanning myself over Shakespear like that.” 

    Oliver smirked. “Worth a shot.” He winked, and I offered one in return.  

    Our flirtation didn’t mean much to me. Oliver and I naturally bantered in a way that came off as teasing, which was common among acting students, especially ones wanting to cater towards the rom-com industry of television. If Oliver and I were a T.V couple troupe, ours would be the best-friends-secretly-in-love-and-have-to-share-a-single-bed-because-the-floor-was-too-uncomfortable. 

    I expected him to dismiss me and continue on with his reading, but instead he surprised me by closing the book and facing me completely. Legs crossed and book placed on his lap, his back leaned against the wall; his eyes penetrated me, and I couldn’t look away.  

    “All right,” he said, and pulled at his solid white shirt from his chest. “Humour me a bit. What’s your favourite tragedy?” 

    “Does it have to be a play?” 

    He shrugged. “Anything.” 

    “Titanic.” He rolled his eyes. “What? The movie starred Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet, an iconic duo. They’re what fandoms nowadays call ‘ship-worthy’. Can’t have chemistry like that between your two leads? Don’t know her.” 

    “Wow.” Oliver’s exaggerated noise made me feel silly.  “I mean, if you want to pursue in method acting, you should have chemistry with your other actors. But I’m not sure if chemistry has anything to do with tragedy.”  

    I should’ve just stuck with the topic of conversation. I looked foolish and I definitely felt it, too. I muttered, “Whatever, you love it” and pulled open the green coloured textbook, blocking my face with it. I re-read the same line twice before a hand came out and pulled the book down. 

    Cole was inline of my sight, and his curious expression got me with a flush to my cheeks. I tried to push it away and give Oliver back my attention. I didn’t want Oliver to think I was ignoring him. 

    He didn’t seem fazed at all. Oliver looked solemn and I would’ve thought he was sincere from the worry in his eyes if it wasn’t for the squint around them. “Are you always this gullible?” 

    I raised a brow. “To certain people I might be.” 

    He smiled. “Overdramatically true.” 

    “Thanks…I think.” 

    He sat next to me and pulled his phone out from his jean pocket, opening up a new contact. “Pop in your details.” 

    So we could practice our kissing techniques?  

    Ugh. What was that? Maybe I was so desperate to getting over Cole that my mind immediately concluded that I needed a distraction. 

    Oliver quick dials my number to confirm we both had it, and as I was adding his information onto my phone, my name was called. 

    Cole. Cole called me over. 

    I rampaged through my brain, checking to see if I’ve done something inappropriate again. Cole came off calm as he sat on the floor, back against the wall with his lap top on his lap. 

    Gingerly, I went over, the green textbook by my side. “Hey,” I said, joining him on the floor.  

    He kept his eyes to the screen. His cologne reminded me of camping in the dead night of winter. “I just wanted to ask how everything was going since I gave you the textbook. Managed your test well?” 

    It was clear that his intention was to avoid talking about our argument by being civil. “It saved my life,” I answered honestly, keeping my eyes on him. “I really appreciate letting me borrow it off you.” 

    The smile he gave me was meant for students, not for me, I knew. I shouldn’t have let that affect me the way it did, especially when our argument was just recent, when I compared him with my dad, but the rational side of me knew he was being appropriate. As he should. 

    Still. Would it kill him to be honest with how he felt?  

    “It’s always a pleasure,” he muttered, setting his lap top aside. He crossed his legs. “How’s everything else been since the last time we spoke?” 

    I straightened my back, creased my mouth into, what I hoped was, a genuine smile. I couldn’t say what I wanted in class – there were too many people, and we knew our boundaries. “Smooth and clean.” 

    He hesitated. “Very good.” 

    No, it wasn’t.  

    The tension between us was uncomfortable. It made the words I wanted to say churn and disappear, stretching the silence between us. 

    “How is your project demonstration coming along? Did you need a hand with that?” 

    “I have the textbook and notes on my lap top, so I think I should be fine.” 

    “Sure.” He grabbed his lap top, focusing his attention back onto the screen. I never wanted to bury my head in mud and scream than I did then. “Keep me posted.” 

    It was an end-of-discussion ending that had me going back to my spot with my own lap top and books. He called up another student and asked how their progress was going. 

    The rest of class ran as it did before, but the tension I felt with Cole reduced. We’d work it out, that was for sure.  

    I believed it was only a matter of time when I stopped feeling the way I did whenever Cole looked at me. 

The alarm on my phone tweeted harmonically, and I peeled my eyes open, groaning drastically. I needed to change the tune eventually; the sound was supposed to gently wake me up from my slumber. Instead, it twisted my arm back and knocked hammers into my skull. I had reminded myself to change it for the past month, but between uni and work, and the energy that came with them, distract me from completing the task.  But I would the next day. I made a mental promise. 

    Adjusting to the light through my parted curtains, I slipped out from my double-sized bed and its solid blue sheets, and grumbled my way to the bathroom, skipping my roommate’s closed bedroom door. Monica hadn’t messaged me since the Sunday, and she did mention coming back the following week. If she hadn’t told me, I would’ve assumed she’d be in her room sleeping. I rarely saw her as it was because of her graveyard shift, which worked out perfectly for our separate schedules: we’d always miss each other moments before the other leaves, giving us time to bring home guys to sleep around without so much as a peep. 

    That was, if Monica had time to do that anymore. Ever since she found out her dad was diagnosed with cancer, she hadn’t had much time to participate in her own activities, gym mainly – her weights were still left by her bed for the past two weeks since she was home. I would assume her casual hookups were left collecting dust, too. 

    I should’ve been used to getting up at 6.30 in the morning by now, but no matter how long I’ve worked at the café, waking up that early wasn’t a desire of mine.  

    I whined like my old-gran did at the reflection from the mirror: dark bags under my dull brown eyes; baby hair sticking up in every direction; yellow teeth stains from forgetting to brush last night.  

    I washed my face, cleaning away the sleep stuck to the corner of my eyes and then followed that by brushing my teeth. The mint flavoured toothpaste made my lips sting like unpleasant Wizz-fizz, bringing tears to my eyes all the time. It made doing my make-up problematic if I started with that first.  

    My go-to eyebrow pencil was running out, but I touched up the areas that needed filling, applied my eyeliner, spread the foundation I bought from a two-dollar store over my face with a blending sponge before setting it with powder to bake. The process was slow, but that was why I woke up early in the first place, and as the mascara was applied, my phone beeped again to remind me that twenty minutes had gone. 

     I fixed my brown hair in a fashioned high bun, feeling motivated by how it made me look. Had Cole ever thought about how pretty I looked? I wanted to think that he had, even if the thought made me resent myself.  

    But as I brushed away the excess powder, applied bronzer to my cheeks and highlight on my cheek-bones, I was becoming almost obsessed with the thought. If Cole had thought about me in some way, he would’ve told me by now. Even Oliver, who I interacted with once a week, complimented the scrunchie in my hair. 

    Oliver didn’t count though. Our chemistry worked inside the classroom, and I wasn’t willingly prepared to push its boundaries. 

    I knew I was being ridiculous to compare, but I’ve crossed the barrier with Cole, and as much as I wanted to pursue with it, I couldn’t. There were too many obstacles.  

    I didn’t know how to close the barrier. 

    I dressed in my black polo-shirt and skirt uniform with our café's logo on the front pocket, and wrapped my hair up in a fashioned bun before leaving my apartment with ten minutes to spare. The spring morning was too fresh to leave without a cardigan despite the sun rising in Melbourne’s sky, promising a day full of heat and swimwear to share. Later I would have it wrapped around my waist or thrown carelessly in my locker. Right now, I worshipped it as my blanket. 

    The café down the street had only been around in the city for over a year; Red Dusk and Dawn and its proud owners made working feel like a treat. Their up-to-date paying system allowed guests to splurge without a minimum paying fee, which was a favourite feature of mine. I hated carrying my card around with only a few places that required a specific spending fee. Their modern orange-red furnishing welcomed guests in a warm, opening environment with freshly made pastries that were great for all occasions, and when there were a few left over, Sammy and I would indulge or take home. 

    Once a month coffee and tea would be discounted. Cole would pop in for those times of the day. 

    The bell chimed as soon as I walked through. Deserted from guests for now, I plucked a spare apron behind the counter, watching two girls set up booths with napkins until I saw Sammy with her large hoop earrings walking out from the staff room.  

    “Morning,” I said, fixing up the pamphlets and re-arranging the dates on the letter board.  

    “Morning hun.” Sammy gave me a motherly-like side-hug before turning on the register and the pay machines. “Count our blessings that today’s shift goes fast, yeah?” 

    I arched a brow. “You need to be anywhere today?” 

    “It’s my little girl’s birthday.” 

    My mouth dropped. “Kaylee’s turning five already? I swear you just told me she started prep not too long ago.” 

    “Believe me, I tell myself that every day. Baby daddy promised to pick her up after school, so I’m hoping to leave before two. Traffic is a b***h in the city.” She played with her fringe.  

    “How’s that drama-fest going?” 

    She looked around for a moment before leaning in, keeping her voice low. “He came over last night and f****d the s**t out of me. Couldn’t feel my legs this morning.” 

    “Huh. So, I take that as being well.” 

     Sammy gave me a look of disbelief. “All it took was a good sesh to forgive and forget. And we’re not as we were before Kaylee, but we’re working on it. I think he wants to be more involved with us.” 

    “Can’t complain.” 

    “Not at all.”  

    Sammy went around the front and dissembled the stools, polished them down before the other waitresses came over to stack napkins. I went in the back to check the deliveries of the pastries and sandwiches, ticking off how many were ordered and what didn’t arrive.  

    With gloves on and tongs out, I assembled the food in its proper spots at the open window by the counter, making sure the name and price tags matched. With moments to spare before opening, I went in the staff room behind me and placed my phone, keys, purse and cardigan in a spare locker.  

    Just as my phone buzzed with Oliver’s name. 

    I stared as the standard call tone rang, contemplating if I should just pick it up and figure out why anyone would want to call me up so early in the morning. Unless they were dying. Or had a mid-life crisis before boarding their flight – but I doubt I knew anyone like Joanne. 

    The call ended before I had the chance to properly decide. Okay. Good. That made the decision pretty... 

    Oliver’s name popped up again. 

    “Jacky, we’re about to open up,” Sammy said from the staff door. Behind her the coffee machine was buzzing. “You need to get your iPad set up.” 

    Decision made. I’ll call him back later. 

    As soon as customers started swinging by, my mind was occupied with customer service and delivering correct orders to the correct tables. I concentrated on my tasks, trying hard not to look at the clock above the register and count down until I could sit down. No matter who I became later down the track, morning shifts would always be the death of me. 

    Like all of my shifts, I looked forward to break when I could pinch one of yesterday’s sandwiches from the staff fridge and scowl through social media, liking and commenting on my favourite celebrities, and searching for auditions around the city. 

    The ones I found have already started or required at least some kind of training. Lucky for me I went to Klayver Art University, one of the best universities for acting. I searched through the ones that looked interesting and saved them on my phone. 

    It was all a blur, from morning to now, and when I looked at the time again my, break was over and it was time to head back out the front. 

    Cleaning my mess behind me, I liked a few more posts before placing my phone back in the locker, until my phone began to blare the calling tone. 

    Oh, f**k. Cole was calling. 

    I didn’t hesitate. Or more like my thumb didn’t hesitate to swipe and accept the call. “Hi? Hello?” 

    “Hey, Jacky.” Static ran in the background that I assumed was from the wind. He must’ve been driving. “How’s everything going?” 

    I leaned my forehead on the cool metal of the lockers. He was going to be the death of me. “Yeah, all’s going well. I’m at work right now, so I’m not sure this is a good time.” 

    “Oh, sorry about that. Want me to call back later?” 

    “If you can,” I said, looking back at the door where I saw Sammy behind the register. “I just finished my break and I need to go back.” 

    “Ah, I had a feeling you were on break. Should’ve called sooner. That’s all right.” 

    Sweat. I was sweating underneath my armpits. “It happens.” 

    “Just before you go,” he said, as a loud horn blasted in the background. “Yeah, f**k you too mate! Anyway, I just wanted to know if you were free Saturday night? I feel terrible how things ended at the café. We can go to the movies. My treat.” 

    My heart was racing, and I thought I could smell my odor coming out from my armpits. I was under the impression that Cole and I mended things yesterday during class break – to a point, at least. Perhaps he was faking it. That wouldn’t be a surprise; Cole was a proud sub teacher for being excellent with his acting skills. Still, the thought that he would’ve had to fake it hurt. How did it get to the point where I couldn’t read him anymore? 

    “Jacky?” came Cole on the other line. 

    Saturday. Saturday... 

    “I can’t.” I regretted the words that came out. My tongue felt like it was glued to the back of my throat. “Joanne and I are meeting up for dinner before her flight, and I promised I’d make it. Sorry Cole.” 

    “That’s fine,” he said, and I believed it was. Why would he lie? “I’ll catch up with you another time, I promise.” 

    “Okay, awesome.” I checked the time on my phone and cursed. “s**t. s**t, Cole, I have to go –” 

His laugh made me warm inside. “Take it easy, Jacky.” 

 By the time my shift ended and I was free to go home, I made the decision to take public transport and rocked up to Christy’s. I was too distorted after the phone call with Cole that I barely remember the rest of the day, except for Sammy’s knowing look of “we need to talk about this sometime”.  

    It took thirty minutes with traffic, but I made it to Christy’s. I knocked a few times before she answered with her cropped blonde hair sticking out in all directions wearing a holed t-shirt that had white stains and a pair of trackies. I knew what that meant.  

    “Hey big sister. How’s babysitting going?” 

    “Shut up. Wasn’t expecting anyone right now.”  

    She opened the door wider, allowing me in, and the first thing I saw was her baby sister Clare sucking on a dish towel surrounded by toys. I turned to Christy, but she heaved out a deep sigh, shutting the door behind.  

    “I told Mum I would look after her if she promised Mike can stay over tonight after his footy training,” she said, moving towards the kitchen where dishes and dish towels covered the counter. Christy shrugged when I arched my brow at her. “She fell in love with the towels. Couldn’t keep her quiet unless she played with them.” 

    “How many do you recon will need to be washed?” 

    She held up a finger, quieting the both of us, and that was when I heard the washing machine running in the background. “That’s a load with some of my washing, by the way, but we’re getting there.” 

    Christy walked over to pick Clare up from the floor who continued to nibble on the towel, her blue wide eyes staring deep into my soul, like she knew why I came over. 

    Babies were weird. 

    “So, what did Mr. Forbidden do that made you come over?” 

    I moved further down the house to the lounge, seated myself on the comfy red couches behind a wall of professional displayed photos of Christy’s mum and new-born Clare, and spat out everything in my mind. “He called me while I was at work and told me how sorry he was the other day when we met up.” 

    Christy frowned. “What happened when you guys met up?” 

    “Pretty much had an argument.” 

    Her mouth thinned and she closed her eyes. “You’re lucky I’m holding Clare.” 

    “So, he said we should go out on the weekend to sort things out –” 

    “– Please tell me you said yes –” 

    “– Told him I couldn’t because I was meeting up with Joanne.” 

    Her head fell back and a groan left her mouth. “Why?” she asked to no one in particular making Clare gurgle into her soaked towel.  

    I felt bad for dumping this on Christy. She was my best friend and the one I trusted most when it came to my love life – she knew me in ways Cole didn’t, which made gossiping about him that much more fun. Still, it wasn’t as though my intentions were to give her continuous migraines until she passed out. As my rational acting supporter, I was obligated to listen to her advice even if I didn’t take them on board. Maybe that was why she’d always be short with me: no matter how many times she’d say it, no matter what way she worded it, there was no point in wasting her time if I wouldn’t try. 

    “I need a scotch, or a shot of tequila for this conversation.” Her glare could’ve had pinned me down to the couch if they could. “Honestly, what don’t you get? This whole Cole thing was going to end in one way or another you know.” 

    My mind began to feel heavy. “What do you mean?” 

    “Oh my god, pray for me Clare.” Her sister drooled onto her hand instead. Christy’s mouth molded in disgust. “Wanna take her, girl?” 

    I placed my items beside me. “Yeah, I don’t mind.” 

    Clare felt heavy in my arms, but she settled down on my lap just fine. Just over eight months, her little soft arm rolls made me want to squish her for the sake of it. Oh, she was cute. 

    Christy sat beside us with a glass of coke. “We’re really do this. We’re really gonna break this down until you decide once and for all what you’re doing. You’ve known this guy since you were nine, when Joanne met Zachary in high school, and you started hanging out at the Moore’s household than yours. Throughout the years, you, Jacky Treavor, developed a massive crush on him that has turned into love. You’re in love.” 

    My head was hurting. “No, I’m not.” 

    “Yes, you heard me. Love. You love the guy so much that the thought of him not being in your life hurts.” 

    I shook my head and Clare babbled away. “I’m not in love with him, Christy. Like sure, I’ve liked him for years and whenever he would call, I’ll pick up the phone, not caring what I’m doing or where I am. He’s one of my best friends. He was there when Mum and Dad left us. He was there when I graduated high school and got into my first choice of uni. And we’re going to be famous Hollywood actors that ever walked the red carpet wearing a fashion designers name on our bodies, But I’m not in love with him.” 

    The washing machine could be heard from the laundry. Christy stared at me and Clare, sipping on her coke. Maybe this was her reason for asking me to hold Clare, so she wouldn't jump and attack the s**t out of me. From the threat beaming in her gaze I assumed the thought remained in process.  

    Christy crossed her legs on the couch and placed her glass on the floor beside her. “We agree that you’re in love him. Okay, now we need to decide when you’re going to pursue him.” 

    I rolled my eyes. “He doesn’t see me that way!” 

    “Says who?” Her voice dropped, sending shivers up my arms. She sounded like she did that Sunday morning when she offered her easiest solution advice. “Have you asked him how he feels about you? Did you get a straight up rejection from his mouth, claiming that he loved another person, or only seeing you as his future sister-in-law?” 

    “Right there, see? That whole sister-in-law. It can’t happen.” 

    “No, it can.” 

    “We’re going to be in-laws, dude. It’s only a matter of time.” 

    “Who cares?” I swallowed at that question. “Seriously, who cares?” 

    I took a moment to think it over. “Joanne.” 

    Christy had her hands pressed together like she was praying. “You’ve talked to her about this?” 

    “And my class peers will care,” I interrupted, fidgeting Clare on my knee. “And the school. They haven’t found a replacement for our class yet, and I doubt they’d find one anytime soon. I date Cole, they’ll assume how my grades were graded. I date Cole, Christy, and the s**t that will roll up will be the shittiest storm to ever hit. And Cole might be a great guy and he might be amazing in the bedroom, but no d**k is worth risking my graduation.” 

    Christy scratched her arm, and I knew I had her. “I just want you to be happy.” 

    I shrugged. “I’m not going to fight for this. Dare me to ask him out if you want, but I know how the story ends.” 

    “A happily ever after,” she said, reaching over to hold my hand. Clare had stopped munching on her slobby soaked towel and focused on her wet hands. I sniffed back the burn of tears threatening to come out and squeezed her hand. “I know that’s how it ends.” 

    I held her hopeful gaze. “Why are you pushing this so much for? And don’t say because you’re fed up with me sooking all the time.” 

    She scoffed. “Oh, it’s definitely the sooking.”  

    We shared a laugh. It was like a needed release. 

    “But it’s also because I remembered the way you and Cole would hang out after school while we still wore those ridiculous school uniforms that had no shape whatsoever.” 

    “Yeah?” I hugged Clare to my chest and rested my cheek on her thin blonde head. “How so?” 

    Christy squeezed my hand. “It’s a best friend thing.” 

    I sighed. “Look, you’re right. About being in love.” 

    “I know this,” she said quickly. “But you’ve decided, haven’t you? This is your decision?” 

    I shook my head. “It can’t happen, Christy.” 

    It took Christy a moment and the washing machine to stop before she said, “Well, I guess we’re going to have to find you a booty call. Ain’t no way you’re sticking around until graduation with no side piece.” 

    The thought of sleeping with someone didn’t appeal to me as much, but as Christy got further in depth with it, I realised it wasn’t a bad idea. I needed all the distractions in the world if I was going to move on from Cole. 

    She went off to her own story of when she first met Mike when she was sleeping with some other guy. I tuned in and out as she digressed, and grabbed my phone, searching through my phone contacts until I spotted Oliver.  

    I swore Oliver and I would stay in the classroom, but distractions were distractions.