Saving from Monkeys (28 page)

I very quickly forgot all about Samantha as kissing Elliot was one of those things that just didn't get old; being overwhelmed in his green scent still made me feel dizzy.
When we eventually pulled away, I was breathing hard and had to rest a hand on his chest to steady myself. As I recovered, Elliot looked over my head towards the lounge room and smirked.

"Samantha's not even looking," he reported. "After any excuse, hey?"

"She
was
looking," I peeked round to see that, as he said, the blonde was chatting happily to some guy and not looking in the slightest bit put out by our display.

God, she really was stunning. I didn't usually give a monkey
’s about what I looked like, but I couldn't help but acknowledge that Elliot and Samantha would've made a much more likely couple than Elliot and me. Oh my. Maybe Elliot smelt green, but I was the one feeling it.

"What exactly did Samantha say to you that day you got back from PNG?" I asked, thoroughly disgusted with the spiky flickers of my jealousy, but unable to stop myself asking. "You know, when she whispered in your ear before she left."

Obviously sensing that he was treading on dangerous ground, Elliot hesitated a moment before answering. "Uh, she suggested that I give her a call when the chambermaid wasn't around," he admitted in the end.

"And?"
I asked archly, knowing there was more than that.

"And she sketched a brief outline of what I could expect if I made that call," he admitted, before adding quickly, "Which I didn't, by the way."

There was a strain of pure disinterest re his interaction with Samantha running through Elliot's tone and, thankfully, that seemed to satisfy the crazy, jealous alien that had momentarily used me as a host. I gave myself a little shake to make sure I was rid of her and then said awkwardly, "Ewgh, that was an unnerving new facet to my personality."

"Yeah, who knew you were the jealous-type?" He laughed, not appearing particularly bothered. In fact, I could've sworn his chest had puffed out a little.
Typical.

"Not me," I said fervently. "But, it's
OK, I'm normal again now."

Elliot opened his mouth, but then closed it again and shook his head.
"Too easy."

"Are you guys actually going to join us at any stage, or is my front door so stimulating that you're just going to stay there and make out?"

I reddened and turned to see Scott, who I recognised from some fairly alarming photos on Elliot's facebook, twisting round on the couch to smirk at us. As the whole point of the evening was to acquaint myself with Elliot's friends, I posted a sheepish smile on my face and went to say hello.

With Elliot's arm reassuringly tight around my waist, I was introduced round the room. The guys,
basic creatures that they were, obediently said hi and went back to watching the game, but the girls took a great deal more interest. Yeah, I was kind of being peered at, but I forced myself to acknowledge that for what it was, a group of friends sizing up their new addition.

Thankfully, Abi appeared at my side in the next moment and, as she dragged me down into a seat next to her, started to make the links between everyone in an undertone. They were the typical motley crew of old friends, new friends, friends of friends, girlfriends and boyfriends; nice and normal.

Well...sort of normal. It must be said that, a few hours later, I did find myself in the corner with Scott's brother, Al, who had revealed himself to be a bit of a closet military conspiracy theorist...who seemed to have misplaced his closet.

"But what about if you just
accidentally
press the big red button that fires the nuclear missiles?" I asked, nibbling on the edge of my plastic cup half full of tepid beer that Al had been courteous enough to bring me before starting on his rant. Maybe past experience told him that alcohol was linked to a better rate of success with his choice of topics. I'd been a bit leery of alcohol since the whole 'black out drunk' debacle, but beginning to wish I was absolutely hammered.

"There's no takesies backsies in nuclear warfare," he informed me ominously and I nodded sombrely to show that I understood the seriousness of what he was saying.

This was perhaps not the wisest of moves, however, as, apparently emboldened even by my lacklustre agreement, he launched into another rather alarming theory about unsecured armaments.

I glanced up as he rattled on, hoping to see Elliot, Abi or Jonah nearby and garner their assistance. It wasn't that Al wasn't a nice guy, it was just that it was beginning to feel like I'd spent the last decade talking to him, and his fervent belief in the imminent outbreak of World War Three was probably going to give me nightmares.

My rescuers of choice, however, were nowhere to be seen, and my desperate gaze only seemed to have been picked up by one other person. Oh dear.

"Seriously, Al, you're not back on that end of the word stuff again, are you?"

With a flick of her shimmering golden hair Samantha was upon us, giving Al a friendly shove which he returned with a slightly shame-faced smile.

"He's not freaking you out, is he?" She asked me.
"Because, honestly, I didn't sleep for a week after our first conversation."

"Hey, Al!"
I didn't get the chance to respond to Samantha as there was a sudden shout from over by the TV. "Isn't this the ad with that chick you like?"

Apparently the end of the world was no match for a beer ad with a scantily-clad girl in it and Al waved a vague farewell and ambled off to get his perve on.

So…

I'd spent quite a while sitting with the girls earlier and had found them to be a good group. I hadn't really had much to contribute to the
conversation, rather I'd sat quietly and started to come round to the idea that Elliot had good taste in his choice in peers after all. Samantha, however, was a different barrel of monkeys altogether. The memory of how I'd felt talking to her on Elliot's return from PNG still smarted, and hearing what she'd said to him then hadn't helped either.

Still, she didn't seem to have any trouble with me as she rolled her eyes in a conspiratorial 'aren't boys such losers' kind of way and said,
"Sorry about him. His dad's some really high rank in the military and I think he heard too many 'and then we nearly killed everyone' stories at the dinner table growing up."

"Rich people and their daddy issues," I said knowingly, before remembering that she was one of Elliot's posh posse and grimacing. "Sorry."

"No problem," she shifted from one incredibly flattering pose to another and I wondered if she even
had
a bad angle. "Just for the record, though, my dad's great."

"Yay," I cheered weakly, not really sure how else to respond.

"So," she said after a moment's awkward silence, during which I did another desperate scout for Abi, "you've got Elliot kind of infatuated, hey?"

Well, that got my attention.
"I do?" I asked, startled.

So far, Elliot and I had described each other as colours and I'd surprised a brief 'you're awesome' out of him with the presentation of a slingshot. Beyond that there'd been plenty of fond, and not so fond, 'you're an idiot' sort of comments, but this was the first time something as intense as 'infatuation' had been suggested.

"Well...yeah. Didn't you know?" She seemed suspicious of my surprise, but I could only shrug at her narrowed eyes. "Look, full disclosure," she said suddenly, in the alarming tone of someone about to say something off-putting, "Elliot and I had a thing a while ago, just after Sophie broke up with him. And, honestly, I wouldn't have minded it keeping going, but ever since Papua New Guinea, his head's totally been somewhere else. I didn't realise until tonight that that was because of you."

It was a lot to take in. The weird jealousy alien within me wasn't sure whether it was enraged or calmed. Feeling that I at least had to say something to acknowledge her honesty
, I mumbled, "Right, well, um...sorry my boyfriend won't sleep with you anymore."

I recognised her expression then as the one she'd worn when I'd announced I was Elliot's chambermaid. Confused, but still trying to be polite about it.
And she
had
been polite, I realised, back then and now. I suppose I had to give her points for that, Elliot's old friends certainly had never done anything to hide how unimpressed they were with the things I said.

And it was then, as Samantha smiled nervously at me, that it hit me.
I had to get over it!

Yes, a bunch of spoilt teenagers had been jerks to me years ago, but so what? It wasn't as if I had a monopoly on having uncomfortable teenage years.
And now here was Samantha trying to be welcoming and
I
was the one being the jerk. Not just to Samantha either, but to Elliot too. He had specifically brought me here to introduce me to his friends and I'd spent most of the night hanging back and judging them.

"Wow,
" I grabbed at Samantha's arm and beamed. "I just had a total epiphany!"

"Oh," I obviously hadn't helped her discomfiture any, but she was apparently a good enough
sport to smile encouragingly and add, "great."

"Yeah, it really is. It was good to talk to you, Samantha," I
added earnestly, ashamed at how stiff I'd been with her. "Thanks for saving me from apocalyptic Al." That done, I darted out from the corner, keen to find Elliot and explain to him, in case he didn't already know, that his friends weren't complete pricks.

The group had dispersed through the house while I'd been stuck with Al, but I caught sight of Abi coming out of the kitchen and launched myself into her path.

"Best friend!" I greeted her excitedly and she laughed her husky laugh.

"Such enthusiasm," she grinned. "What's up with you?"

I explained about my moment with Samantha and, after considering me for a moment, she rapped me lightly on the head with her knuckles. "You freak," she said good-naturedly. "I could've told you all that."

"Of course you could," I agreed, "but I needed to know it for myself."

"So, not all people born to privilege are absolute arseholes," she recapped. "What should we do to celebrate?"

"Find my privileged
, but also occasionally arseholey boyfriend," I said promptly. "Any ideas where he's wandered off to?"

"I think he snuck off outside with Joe to drink and be manly without the womenfolk looking over their shoulders." Abi threw an arm around me and we shared a wicked smile as she added, "Let's go ruin that for them."

~*~

"It's the weird
stuff you notice," Jonah's rumbling voice carried across to where Abi and I stood, some way back along the porch.

We'd found the boys outside as Abi had suggested. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder on the steps out the front, their backs to the front door talking quietly. What they were talking about, as Abi and I had very quickly realised, was us.

"Abi keeps wearing my rugby shirts so they get boob bumps in them, and all my stuff has started to smell different."

"Yep," Elliot nodded, taking a sip from the beer bottle he held loosely from his fingers. "And stuff moves. You come back and nothing's where you left it."

"Abi makes my bed," Jonah shook his head. "What's
that
all about? I'm only going to mess it up again."

Abi raised her eyebrows at me and I had to press a hand against my mouth to stop myself laughing out loud.

The boys fell silent for a while, taking slow swigs of their drinks, until Jonah said quietly,
"Worth it, though."

"Yeah," Elliot agreed.

Abi and I exchanged another look, this time our expressions pure mush. I think I must even have let out a tiny squeak, because I heard Elliot sigh and add, "It's just a shame about their tendency to eavesdrop."

"Ha," I exclaimed, pulling myself together and marching forward, "you can talk."
I plonked myself down in front of him and immediately his arms came around me and I felt him rest his chin on my head.

"Having a good time?" He asked as I relaxed back against him.

It was the perfect lead-in to what I'd sought him out to say and, with a fortifying glance at Abi, I got on with it. "I've been having an enlightening time, actually," I admitted, pulling his free hand round and linking my fingers through his.

"Sounds ominous," he commented and I gave his hand a little tug.

"No, it's just…I think you might have been right, you know when you called me a reverse snob?"

Elliot suddenly went very still behind me, and I knew he
did
remember. "I was mad, Rox," he said softly. "I'd also just thrown a bedside table into a wall; I don't think we can take anything I said then seriously."

"No, but you were right," I insisted. "I was worried about tonight because I assumed everyone would be just like the people who used to come round in high school, but that's not fair. Al thinks we're on the brink of mutually assured destruction, Rachel nearly burns her house down every morning when she leaves her straightener on, Kev knows all the words to all the jingles on TV; they're normal people. And I just wanted to let you know I've caught on and that I'm going to try and not be so judgemental in future."