Entwine (9 page)

For many minutes he held her hand, and didn’t let go. He’d hold the wheel with his knees and change gears with his free hand when he had to. Around corners, he used that trick again where he only used one hand to turn. Sarah was embarrassed that her panties were a bit damp after checking out every part of him.

When she directed him to her house, she told him to park on the side of the road. Malik got out and opened the door for her, and she had a stupid big grin on her face that she couldn’t wipe, even after he’d pecked a kiss on her mouth awkwardly.

“It’s actually a few houses down,” Sarah admitted, looking away, flushed. Did he think she was silly, or did he get why she’d not want for them to be seen saying goodbye in front of her house?

“Mm,” Malik moaned. He looked into her eyes and asked, “Can I have your number?”

It happened. She actually had a chance of having some sort of relationship with him. As she typed out the digits, she was glad how things had turned out. No sex, no heavy making out. She’d done a good job at interesting him without giving up everything.

They exchanged numbers, and as Sarah was digging her phone back in her bag, he surprised her by grabbing her waist and pushing her up onto his car bonnet. She sucked in a breath and looked from his open lips down his shirt buttons that led to his pants. It was then she had to close her eyes.

Soft, smooth. She felt his lips on her neck. Eyes still shut, she tilted her head up, allowing him better access, and opened her legs wide, so he could stand up against her and his car. Hands on her waist, he leaned far in so his body was flush against hers and the car, and she wrapped her heels around his calves.

He started trailing kisses down her neck and chest, so she leant back. He was undoing her in every way, even if he didn’t know it. By the time he’d placed his last kiss, he was only an inch away from sucking her nipple, and her lack of strength had left her lain back over the bonnet.

Malik pulled her up with his hands around the back of her ribs, and she clung to the last hope she could, purposely bending in to his hard erection, which she felt longer than before, as he slid her down his body to the grass nature strip.

“Need … need to. To go,” he moaned, his lips biting at her neck. “Shit, right. Let me walk you to your door.”

“O … okay,” she stuttered. At least she didn’t feel bad, knowing he was horny and lost for words too.

She stopped him halfway through walking down the sidewalk in front of her next-door neighbour’s house. She looked to her mobile; it said 12.50 am. Her mum could easily be up in the front lounge room, peering out waiting, or in bed, looking out the window for the sight of her.

“Wait,” Sarah said, hand clutching Malik’s bicep. It barely made it around his circumference. “I’m just next door. Best to say bye here.”

They shared a gaze, and she didn’t want to say anything, or for him to, either. No, no, no. Why did she have to work? Adrenaline would keep her up and going, despite the fact she’d only get four and a half hours sleep. Why couldn’t they just stay hanging out for even an hour longer?

It. Wasn’t. Enough.

Malik slipped both hands around her shoulders and cupped the back of her neck while gazing at her. “Trust me when I say tonight couldn’t have gone better than it did. I wouldn’t have changed a
thing
.”

He didn’t say bye as he waited for her to leave. Rather, he said, “Don’t worry, I’ll be calling.”

She nodded furiously, blew a kiss to him and walked back to her door. Two things happened at the same time: he finally got in his car and drove by, at the same time as her mum came out and saw the stupid smile on Sarah’s face, and Malik waving as he drove away.

“Who was he?” her mum asked.

“A friend.”

“Does your friend have a name?”

“Malik.”

“Malik,” her mum repeated. Her tone wasn’t playful. If anything, she seemed unimpressed. What wasn’t honourable about that? He was a complete gentleman, judging by what her mum could have seen. Especially since he’d driven her home.

“Something wrong with him?” Sarah asked.

“Not really. What did he drive?”

“Drive …” Sarah’s mind rustled for the details. She remembered soon enough. “Um, a black XR6 Turbo, why?”

“Huh,” her mum said, and walked up the stairs and disappeared, not finishing with anything of more substance.

Sarah lay in bed that night, thinking how weird that was, until she got a text at 1.10 am with a few words: “Miss you already. xx”

Then she slept.

CRUMBLE

THEN

Within two weeks, her dad was kicked out and renting. Sarah knew he was to blame for breaking up her family, and he knew it, too. The man didn’t fight back when her mum confronted him and, though he’d slump over his suitcases and mope around from cardboard box to closet, he didn’t grumble about having to pack, either.

He didn’t fight to get her mum back, and Sarah watched hour after hour, day after day, watching him pack up not only his belongings, but part of the life she loved. He sealed it up for good. She didn’t want to have her world pulled out from under her, but she was sixteen, and having to learn a new way of life.

But why didn’t he fight? Sarah would never shut up and let something happen that she didn’t want to. She knew her family couldn’t be a normal, nuclear unit anymore, but didn’t he want to try? Sarah had fought before: for friends, for grades, for an expensive dress. She wondered, during the days her father packed up, why the hell he didn’t fight for his daughter, or for Sarah’s mum to love him again.

Was he glad it was all over?

After thinking that, Sarah decided to give up too, and along with the numb feeling came peace, at a price.

The afternoon that her dad was leaving, she caught him on a trip to his car boot with a box hugged to his chest.

“Dad!” she called from the front door.

He stopped and Sarah jogged up to him, followed him to the boot where he placed the box in a corner with the others already in there. It occurred to Sarah that he hadn’t had a proper chat to her. At what point was he going to stop and talk things through? Would she see him again? Surely. But Sarah needed to know. Would it be every second weekend, like how a girlfriend from school saw her daddy? Sarah assumed that couldn’t happen to her. Who would her dad be? Not immediate family, no, more like a distant relative.

“Can we chat?”

Her dad was about to open the passenger-side door but he halted, spun to face her, and nodded to their backyard. There, Sarah and her dad sat on the usual rusted bench. It had been in the backyard for as long as Sarah could remember, and it had braved the weather—sun, rain and hail. Sarah sat, bent her knee and rested her chin on it, and her dad sat in the middle, legs spread forward, and one arm on the back behind Sarah.

“I’m sorry, Sez girl,” he said, “I’m not sure what you’re feeling—heck, don’t know how to feel myself—but I want you to know I’m not leaving you. Just moving five or so minutes down the road. You know, I should be close enough to walk.”

Sarah piped up at that. Her leg shot to the floor with the other, and she turned to face her dad full on, hands clumped in her lap. “Seriously?” Sarah beamed. “Awesome!”

“I wouldn’t try walking in the rain or anything. Don’t need another reason for your mother to want to kill me. But when it’s sunny, go on and come whenever you like.”

They both cracked up into uncontrollable fits of giggles. By the end, Sarah had her hands cupped around her mouth, her eyes ready to burst with tears, and her dad’s hand resting on her back, telling her to shush. He was biting his lip to stop the laughter, too.

“I’ll sneak out tonight.” Sarah attempted an impersonation of a spy, eyes low, darting around for any movement. Satisfied, she whispered, leaning in, “I’ll come at 1.01 am. Mum will be up watching TV or crying or something. I can leave at 12.55 am and start the trek at 12.56 once I make it to the front. If you hear a knock at one am, then—”

“Sarah.”

“Really, don’t answer if—”

“Sarah.”

This time, he had her attention. Dread had struck her chest like a cold ice-block, and her fear of what he would say rooted her still.

“Alyssa won’t want to be woken.”

“But you said come whenever.”

He looked to his lap. “I know …”

“You said you were close enough to walk.”

His tone became softer. “I
know
.”

Sarah snapped. She crossed her legs under her awkwardly as she turned to face him. Her eyebrows were pulled in and her tone was clipped. “What the hell did you say that for, then?”

Her dad didn’t bother to reprimand her for saying “hell” though she never said that around her parents. He didn’t answer for a few seconds. Sarah was glad he looked belittled, yet rage grew within her, and she had to fight the urge to grind her teeth. She needed an answer.

“I meant it. Just call first, you know? And maybe we can organise a time when she’s not around to start off with. Get her used to the idea. Plus, she has a little baby, and stuff.”

And stuff
, Sarah thought. What could be more important than his own daughter? Her dad had never complained when Sarah needed him to fix her computer, be it midnight or noon. He would spend hours finding ingredients, shopping and making tiramisu for Sarah if her mum was away, and she wanted them to bake it together. Her dad gave her time.

Sarah didn’t care what this pretty-named Lady Alyssa Fawnheart was giving her dad. She was the most important girl in his life.

No
, she thought,
I used to be
.

She told her dad okay, that she supposed she could ring sometime.

Her dad left, and Sarah didn’t speak to him for almost two weeks. She only came to his place when it was the weekend she was meant to see him.

“S
a
ra, isn’t it?” the lady who answered the door asked. She said it S
a
ra, not Sar
ah
and for some reason that pissed her off more.

“Yep,” she replied, flat. “Where can I put my bag?”

“Great to meet you! We can spend the whole weekend bonding. Ask anything you want! Let me just put the baby down for a nap, and I’ll help you settle in.”

No, Sarah did not want to bond for a whole two days. She didn’t want anything from this stupid home-wrecker. She didn’t want to settle in. Sarah decided she was here for two days, and then gone. There wasn’t a point unpacking her bag, anyway.

Sarah sat on her allotted bed and wedged a shoe under the door to be alone. She stared at it, and wondered why Alyssa Fawnheart had to have such a pretty name, luscious blonde, waist-length hair, tanned yet porcelain skin, and a pretty smile.

Her mum was supposed to be the one with a pretty smile; not this lady.

• • •

NOW

It was pitch black when Sarah started to wake. She felt like it had only been a couple of hours since she went to sleep, but obviously she was still tired, and it was most-definitely morning already. She felt a hand rousing her and a sudden light illuminate her bedroom. She flung her hands out, trying to find something to steady herself since she had to squint. There was a person beside her telling her, “Sorry, it’s just me,” and she knew it was her mum.

After a couple of minutes, she sat up against her headboard, with a cardigan on and the sheets tucked over her around her waist. She noticed her mum on the edge of the bed, though in her pyjamas, had her hair in a neat ponytail, and she looked ten times less ghoulish than her. Her eyes were big, aware, and she was sitting perfectly straight.

“I’m sorry, Sez,” her mum told her again. She frowned and played with the hem of her drawstring pants. “I was doing some thinking and I’d be still sleeping by the time you left for work this morning. You have to know.”

Sarah took in her mum and willed her nerves to stay down, calm, and not rattle her. It was of no use, though, because already Sarah felt chilly, and not in an I-am-too-cold way.

“What? You can tell me anything, don’t worry.” Sarah opened up the sheets and folded them over. She patted the spot next to her. “Lay in bed. You must be cold like that.”

“Well, okay.”

Her mum sat back, pulled her legs in and tucked the sheets and cover over her, matching Sarah’s position up against the headboard.

Both mother and daughter looked at each other, which made the pit in Sarah’s stomach grow thanks to the raw honesty in that look. This wasn’t bad news, it was terrible news, and suddenly, remembering her mum’s strange reaction at the front door when she’d come back from being with Malik, Sarah couldn’t imagine the worst news she could hear right now. She didn’t want anything coming between her and the first important guy since her break up with Nicholas. She loved feeling everything—joy, elation, heat, the erotic sensation, being comfortable …

“I don’t think Malik is who you think he is.”

“I need to ask some things before you go ahead. Am I adopted? Is there a chance we’re biological siblings? Wait, Dad cheated way before I was born, and he’s my half-brother!” Sarah clapped her hands over her mouth. “Oh my God …”

Her mother managed a small chuckle. She placed a comforting hand on Sarah’s shoulder. When Sarah looked into her eyes, relief swept through her. By the look on her mum’s face, nothing could be further from the truth from that. Sarah sighed. There was nothing besides that possible taboo that would be that bad. She knew, deep inside, she had been broken before but she was strong, and she’d do whatever she wanted, figure a way around whatever her mum supposed was too bad, to wait until tomorrow after work.

“I didn’t want you seeing him again before I told you. In case it’s a serious thing.”

Sarah’s eyes squinted. She looked at her mum, not blinking or wavering. “He is going to be very important to me.”
Or maybe that’s just me getting ahead of myself.
“We’ll be seeing each other, so thanks for your concern, but I’m a big girl. I’ll make sure I take care of myself.”

“No, I’m not saying he’s a bad guy. He’s an amazing man. I admire him. It wasn’t easy, what he had to deal with.”