Chapter Two. I hope you’re somewhere nice

“Tessa, your attention please.” Victoria says sharply. “We have a ‘one on one’ meeting today at Eleven o’clock.”

Yay, stuck in a small room with lady breathe-a-lot.  “Yeah sure.”

“Yes, Tessa, not “yeah’” She says, whilst doing that irritating inverted commas thing people do with their fingers. She has really short, bitten down fingernails. I try not to think about the time she said I looked inappropriate because my nails were painted.

She presses her lips together as she looks at me. “Perhaps the first thing we can talk about is how best to avoid tardiness yes?”

She says this like she’s reliving her “influencing others’ class and now she’s relating to me to me. I was six minutes late this morning, and I have been late one other time and now it’s like I’ve finally proven correct all her theories about my dubious character.

I smile at her, wondering if she can see the genuine fake-ness in my face. “Sure Victoria.” Her smile falters, just a little, before she wanders off, presumably to harm another person’s will to live.

“You know, I know you hate her, but you know she can tell that right?” Jem says in my ear. “I think you think you’re being…polite?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I am so polite! She can’t tell anything.”

“Uh huh.” He says dryly. “Don’t get me wrong… she’s not great, and she does pick on you a little, but I mean, you could be nicer to her. You could be the better person. Might make this place a little happier all round.”

“I guess.” I say slowly. “But can you stop being wise and shit? It’s weird.” He’s right, of course. I probably should be nicer. But when I’m spoken down to by someone like Victoria it irritates my core in a very particular way.

 “And the rosters came out today,” He continues. “She’s not been nice to you with the shifts. Just so you know.”

Damn. That means less shifts, which means less money. I sigh and close my eyes. breathing in deeply, getting to my happy place. I’m on a beach in Lagos, Spain, I’m walking the Bairro Alto in Lisbon, Portugal. I’m lying on a bed, in a room overlooking the main street. Perfect. I breathe out, picking this particular fantasy to stick with.

There are white cotton curtains blowing softly in the breeze, and from below I can hear locals bartering for Petiscos and Bifanas, and yelling for tourists to buy toys. I can hear people laughing, and Portuguese floating over my head like a song.

Next to me on the bed is my number one fantasy companion, Steve Reynolds. He’s actually the manager at the café in our building, ‘Café Latte’. He’s infamous for his desirability among all women; old, young, conservative, bosslike, emos, backpackers… me.

So, I am with Steve, on the bed, in his arms… It’s cool and romantic and breezy and soft and pretty goddamn lovely and-

“I hope you’re somewhere nice…” A male voice. Really close. Talking to me. Not Jem. Oh shit. I open my eyes slowly. Standing in front of me, leaning down so that his face is level with mine, is Steve Reynolds. I thought of him and now he’s here.

Suddenly this doesn’t seem like a good thing. I wonder how many seconds it’s been since he spoke. What did he say? Oh just laugh. Look at his crinkled eyes; he’s expecting a laugh. I laugh. He laughs.

Ok, fine. I can totally handle this.

“Sorry to interrupt you…” He says. “You’re obviously hard at work.” He smiles. I smile. See? I’m fine. Responding verbally in conversations is overrated.

“Anyway I wanted to introduce myself, my name’s Steve.”

Oh. Man. This is crazy. I stick my hand in his face. “Oh, I know, Hi, I’m Tess, How are you?” Uh oh. Verbal communication. Not good. Why did you ask him how he is? Is that weird?

He crinkles his eyes into a bigger smile- almost a grin. “I’m good, thanks, and you? How are you faring today?”

Ok, so it wasn’t weird, it’s ok, I can answer. “ Good thanks, and you?” Oh my holy Christ. Way to ruin your whole life jerkface Tess. I can feel Jem’s smirk from here as he watches what has to be the most awkward conversation ever.

But, amazingly, Steve smiles, leans on my desk, wrapping one big strong hand around the top of my cubicle wall and smiles bigger, if that were possible. Man he has great hands. “I was just talking to Victoria-

“Victoria’s my boss. The one here, my boss here I mean. ” The words just tumble out of my mouth. Oh just leave right now. Just stand up and leave.

But he laughs again. He has such delightful dimples.

Tess. Stop thinking. Listen to his WORDS.

“- She gave me some names of people who might have some appropriate time spare against their roster here and would appreciate some extra work. I was wondering if you might like a couple of shifts at the café, waitressing. Have you had any hospitality experience?”

Um, what? “ Yeah I have. I’d actually love that.”

“Alright, great! Well could you come in for a chat later today?”

I grimace. “I don’t finish here until nine”

“Hmmm, ok, we might be a bit busy then, how about this Thursday? Around 5:30?”

My mind races through my schedule. “Yeah… 5:30, I think I can do that.”

“Great. We can have a coffee and go over the details.”

“That would be great! I’ll see you then… then.” Almost a complete coherent sentence. I’m so impressed.

He pauses as if he wants to say more, then stands up and waves a little bit. “Ok. Cya. Enjoy work.” Then he winks at me, before walking away. All of a sudden the earth has changed, just a little bit. I can’t help but smile.

Then I stop. Uh oh. I’ll be down there, behaving like a really dumb awkward girl, being blinded by his smile and trying to waitress at the same time.

Hmm.

But then I think about the opportunity for new experiences that this could bring me. This could be the start of my great real world love affair, or the beginnings of a new adventure. This will give me money for travel, at any rate. I turn and smile at Jem, who rolls his eyes. He, like quite a few of the guys who work here, doesn’t have much love for Steve, or, ‘Café douche’ as he calls him.

“What did he want?” he says, looking at his computer screen with a bored and uninterested look on his face.

“ Like you weren’t listening.” I say.

He pauses, then replies with a slow, sly smile on his face. “ You can be such a dumbass, you know that? It’s like you’re just learning English, or how to be a human girl.”

I laugh, because I know that he’s only speaking the truth.

“I know. I guess I’ll just have to rely on my stunning good looks until I can prove to him that I’m not an idiot”

“Yeah, right. That’ll work.” Dripping with sarcasm.

“Jerk.”

“I can’t believe you’re going to be working two jobs. That’ so…”

“Awesome?”

“No. Not awesome. I think stupid is the word I’m looking for. You’re not going to have any time to-”

“-Sit on the couch?”

“Well, yeah. Douchebag. ”

I get a phone call, and answer it, still smiling ear to ear. “Welcome to Tesco Customer Service, My name is Tess, How can I help you?”

“I have a complaint about your supposed customer service at bloody Tesco and you are going to listen to me, and assist me, until I am completely happy, ok Tessa?”

Oh.

Still, I think to myself, Steve! Money! Things are looking so magically, fantastically up for me and my London dream life.

*

I’m sitting in Cafe Latte after my shift waiting for my best friend Clara. Blonde, little, sweet as pie Clara. We’re going to splurge on Thai takeaway for dinner. I’ve been waiting all week for some solid Pad Kra Pao.

I really didn’t want to wait in the Cafe, because what defines a stalker exactly? But, it’s predictably raining, and Clara is late. Besides, the cafe is, as Steve said it would be, really busy, so much easier to hide in. I hope.

I’m sitting, waiting, in the back corner by one of the doors that leads to the entrance of the building, tucked away against the wall behind some ferns. I’m fiddling with the sugars on the table, and drinking a coffee as slowly as I possibly can, keeping an eye out for Steve. He hasn’t made an appearance yet, fortunately. Or maybe unfortunately? The waitress, a beautiful Indian girl I’m convinced will end up marrying Steve, keeps looking at me in a way that makes me nervous.

I realise that I’m tearing apart sugar packets quite viciously so I sit on one hand, and stir my coffee with the other, wondering why I always expect Clara to be on time when she never is. When I look back up towards the front of the cafe, Steve has magically appeared behind the counter. He looks up, catches me looking at him and smiles at me. I blush, smile a little and avert my eyes as if I’ve just realised my dress is made of ants.

When Steve smiles at you, it’s like you’re the first person who has ever been smiled at before. Like POW, this is what happiness is, and you make me feel it, like hot worms crawling under your skin. It’s oddly pleasant and uncomfortable at the same time.

I wonder if he makes every girl feel like that. I wonder if it’s the beginning of something, for he and I. Probably pretty unlikely seeing as how much of an idiot I turn into around him.

As evidenced by my conversation with Steve earlier, if I like a guy, I mean, really feel attracted to him, I can’t talk to him; I can’t even really look at him. And if I have to speak to him, I lose like 100 points off my IQ. It’s like the chemistry erases my self-confidence and strips me of intelligent thought. Which explains why I’ve not had the best relationship track record.

I wonder if Steve’s still looking.

Clara suddenly appears out of nowhere, sitting down opposite me at the table with a freaking takeaway coffee. From here. How the hell did I miss that?

“Your boyfriend sure is cute,” She says, with a smug smile on her face. “Why don’t you ask him to get Thai with us?”

I get up and snatch my bag from under the table all grumpy because of the lateness and the hot worms under my skin and the not being able to look at Steve.

“Let’s just go ok?” I walk out but she catches up to me storming out of the building and puts her little arm in mine. Her long blonde hair swings into my vision, quickly followed by her pale little face with it’s perfect smattering of freckles. She’s smiling.

“Stop being late grumpy.” She says. “C’mon you should ask him out. You need to experience all that the mother country has to offer, and I’m thinking he could offer you a whole lot!”

I laugh. She’s one of the only people in the world with the ability to do that- to make me forget that I’m mad so quickly. “Maybe next time. Which Thai place are we going to?”

“‘Thai Me Up’ they have the best Massaman curry.”

“Ok.” We walk in silence for a moment.

“Maybe I should have asked him out. “ I say, suddenly. Maybe not for tonight, but, just in general? Do you think?”

“Yes, but don’t overthink it. Please don’t go worrying that that was a ‘moment wasted.’” Clara says dryly.

She knows me well. “Yeah, ok, fine. But-”

“There’s always next time, and if it’s meant to be, honey, it’s meant to be.” She says.

“I know, but, what if it’s not meant to be, but I want it to be, and that was my only chance? What if that was my one opportunity to make it ‘be’ and I ruined it because I was a giant coward?”

“But-”

“But blah. I read this thing in the paper today about this chick, an Aussie girl who was killed, murdered they think, in Battersea park… I mean, what was meant to be in her life? What if she liked a guy and didn’t do anything about it because she thought, well, there’s always next time, and if it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be?”

“That poor girl!”

“I know.”

“Well, then, go ask him out.”

I am aware that the point I just made using this poor dead girl is valid and correct and hence I should go and do just that. I should go and ask him out. “Ummm… yeah. Probably not.”

She laughs at me. “C’mon, if it goes badly, which it won’t, you can just add a bit of drama like we all know you love doing, and make it one of those ‘what happened to me overseas’ stories. Can’t have enough of those…”

“Yeah, but I like those to be more ‘I got all my money stolen in Barcelona’ type stories. Not, ‘I got rejected horribly by the hottest guy in history’ type stories.”

“Oh, C’mon! You’d really prefer to get all your money stolen over getting turned down by some guy?”

I don’t think Clara has been rejected by a guy, ever, but I try to explain. “Sure. Some guy rejecting me is boring, a tale as old as time, if you will. Sure, it makes me feel icky inside, but it’s the more unusual stuff I’m interested in. Things that test my…something… my ability to, you know-”

“Speak properly?”

I laugh. “No, that’s the guy thing. This thing is about coping, independently. To not only prove, but grow my strength and wits and… stuff”

“Tess Stynes against the world.”

“Damn straight.”

We walk for another 5 minutes down the road, lost in our own thoughts when I hear Clara mutter, “That poor girl.”

*

We run into Bella just outside the restaurant. She has her headphones on, leaning up against the wall of the restaurant, staring up at the sky.

I met her on a walking tour of Barcelona, my favourite city in the world, before I got to London. She’s also an Aussie, she’s been here for a year and a half and her visa is ending soon but she won’t let anyone mention it. She says that she still thinks of Australia as home, but London is where she has made a home for herself as an adult. She can’t bear to break up with her adult home.  She’s one of my favourite people; she’s slightly vague and extremely fun and deep as the ocean.

I have to go right up to her and tap her on the shoulder before she notices that we’re there. Clara rolls her eyes at me as I do it. Bella turns to me with a big red lipsticked smile, the whites of her teeth contrasting with her black hair and almost black eyes, made darker with rings of black makeup.

“Hi!” She gives me a big hug before noticing Clara beside me. “Clara! Hi! So nice to see you again. What are you up to?”

“Just finished work, about to get some Thai, you want to join us?”

“Oh, no, I can’t, but guess what? I just booked a ticket to India!”

“Really? That’s incredible! I’m so jealous!”

“Yeah, well I wanted to go really soon you know, and my boss said I could get some time off, but I was supposed to go with Tommy, and he was all umming and ahhing and taking his bloody time and so I just booked it for myself! For a month!”

“Oh my god, that’s so amazing!” I say, definitely feeling the jealousy. “You’re so lucky, I’ve always wanted to go.”

“I know, I can’t wait! You know, you could always come with me?”

“Ugh. Don’t. Unless you’re paying? Although I got another job today- at the cafe downstairs from the call centre, so I will be saving loads more money soon hopefully.”

“Is that the place with the super hot guy?”

I grin without meaning to. “That’s the one…”

“So, more money and more man-time for you, and I’m going to India. You know what this calls for?”

I grin. I know exactly what this calls for. “Drinks?” I say, with my eyebrows arched.

She nods, her curls bouncing around her cheeks. “Next Friday? At Governor’s? I’m not working! Don’t bring Alex, or do, might make for some entertainment!” She looks at her phone. “Oh, I’ve got to go, I’ll text you during the week ok?” Without waiting for a reply, she suddenly sprints off across the road without so much as a glance backwards.

“So, Friday?” I ask Clara, “It’s perfect! We can celebrate my new job too. Or drown my sorrows after I’ve embarrassed myself working with Steve.”

Always the optimistic.

“You won’t embarrass yourself, silly, you’ll be fantastic and he’ll fall completely in love with you. But I don’t think I can come Friday night.” She looks down at her hand, twirling her hair around her fingers, then laughs. “Why would she ever think you would bring Alex?”  She says as we walk into the Thai place and get in line to order.

Oh, Alex. Alex is my French roommate, yes- not flatmate but roommate. When I came to London after travelling for three amazing, breathtaking months around Europe, I was not, strangely enough, in an amazing, breathtaking financial situation. Clara’s flatmates at the time, although cool, were not really into me sleeping on their couch forever, so I had to move into the first, cheapest place that I could find.

What I found is cheap, the location is perfect, but I have to share a teeny tiny room with the Horrible Alex. I swear that’s his real name. Horrible, horrible, Alex. The way he snores, breathes, walks, speaks, eats…

The first time Bella met him she couldn’t stop laughing at how true my ‘horrible’ description of him was. She hadn’t believed it, but in the flesh, he was every description come to life. Alex and I’s secret loathing of each other is fast becoming pretty open. And, admittedly, a little bit hilarious. To some of us anyway.

 “Earth to Tess?” Clara says in my ear, clapping her tiny hands in front of my eyes.

“Oh, sorry, I was just thinking, you know I had this image, before I came to England, of me living in a house full of backpackers, and we would be like a huge wonderful family. How wrong was I?”

Clara shrugs. “Yeah, but this might even turn out to be better. I think, sometimes, things don’t turn out like you want, like Alex. But then one day you turn around and realise that everything that happened was, in a different way, exactly what you wanted, or needed.”

“ You glowy little light of positivity you.” I tell her, grinning. “What’s with everyone sounding so wise today? Meanwhile I’m giving the man of my dreams the impression of a half mute 5 year old.” Clara laughs a big barking laugh that still manages to sound feminine. 

“Anyway,” I continue, “I will most definitely not be bringing Alex on Friday. Not even if it’s exactly what I need. But I wish you could come, how come you can’t?”

“Huh? Oh, just some stupid work thing.”

“Work thing? On a Friday night?”

“Yeah, I know, I know, but my boss wants me to do some extra filing, and he’s offered me time and a half, so…” She shrugs. “What’s that saying? The crazy things we do for love and money?”

I laugh. “I think it’s for love of money, not love and money.”

“I’d rather like to think it’s both.” She says, smiling.