Page 34 of I'll Look for You, Everywhere
‘We’ll remind you.’ She takes my hand between her own and kisses it with a loud smack. The outline of bright pink lipstick stains my skin and I’m flooded with warmth. I don’t deserve all the goodness I am given.
‘Thanks, Marta.’
‘Oh, it’s nothing. Thank me when you see the thongs.’
My eyes widen as she begins to push me through the front doors when we both suddenly come to a standstill. Marta slams into my back, propelling us out of the store and onto the sidewalk, where we see him across the street. Faded blue jeans, a thin cotton T-shirt and overwhelmingly manly. Theo stands tall, his lips pulled in an all-too-seductive smirk, but, just as I’m about to smile back, I realize he’s smiling at Marta. Right. He thinks I’m nosy. And obsessed. And he regrets wasting his Friday evening dissecting my bloody back. When he finally looks at me, his smile disappears. My gaze dips to the cobblestone, ready to quietly go whichever direction he chooses not to. Wanting to be just a best friend’s little sister again. But it’s too late to pretend we haven’t seen each other, and Theo is not one to hide. When my ears finally hear something past the loud pounding of my chest, I realize Marta has reached her full pterodactyl volume as she screeches at Theo to come over. He salutes her and begins walking towards us. I stare at the sidewalk, the piece of gum wedged between the cobblestones becoming extremely interesting.
Don’t be a pussy.
Trying to fake confidence, I look up. But my stomach flips when I see Theo already staring at me. Piercing grey eyes giving nothing away. His gaze travels from the bags in my hand to the fading bruise on my forearm, and rather than meeting my eyes, he looks down to the sliver of my stomach showing. I hold my breath, feeling flushed. When he finally looks up to my face, he clears his throat and attempts to give me a smile, but it feels unnatural. As if he’s only smiling at me for Marta’s sake.
‘My fucking god, you’re ageing like fine wine, Theo.’
‘Marta, we’re the same age.’ Theo runs a hand through his hair with exasperation and I’m enveloped in his familiar scent. Clean laundry and something entirely personal, to just him. I want to breathe in, to understand what exactly it is that makes me want to bury my face in his chest and drown in it. Ridiculous. I’ve spent a week with him, and half of that time he’s spent yelling at me. Now suddenly I’m fantasizing about his scent?
But even the fantasy makes me nervous, afraid Theo can somehow read my mind. I take a small step back for the sake of self-preservation. He’s just too powerful. And I, as I’ve come to learn, am entirely too inexperienced to be around someone like him.
It’ll always be me who gets hurt, reading into signs that aren’t really there. Romanticizing the slight graze of hand.
But immediately after I step back, I know I shouldn’t have. Marta and he speak in rapid Italian, throwing insults and inside jokes so I think my movement will go unnoticed. He continues to talk to Marta, feigning exasperation at another one of her flirtations, yet he looks directly at me, raising an eyebrow, chastising me with a second-long glance. Letting me know he knows what I did. All while claiming he doesn’t remember Marta flashing him on a dare in grade twelve. Gracefully, he puts his hands in his pockets as he continues to talk to Marta, and I think I’m off the hook, but then he’s asking Marta: ‘So what have you convinced Magdalen to buy?’ His voice is deep and frustratingly suave. I roll my eyes at his ability to make me feel like a child.
‘The basics. Latex corsets, lace garters. Lots of thongs.’
Theo eyes the bags for a second too long and for a moment I think he’s going to grab them.
‘She’s kidding,’ I interject, even though he still refuses to look at me, so instead my comment is directed at that gorgeous piece of gum on the sidewalk.
Marta snorts, ‘No, I’m not.’
My cheeks flare. ‘Marta, tell me you didn’t.’
‘Okay, I didn’t.’ She taps her chin with her long nail, obviously lying.
‘I’d be more than happy to check,’ Theo’s voice cuts in, and I defensively clutch the bag to my chest and this time the step back I take is deliberate, wanting Theo to know he will never get to see the contents of this bag.
‘No, very unnecessary,’ I croak.
‘You and I both know that won’t keep me away.’ He takes a step towards me and the grip I have on the bag falters slightly.
Marta clears her throat, looking from Theo to me with clear suspicion. ‘Okay, well, this has been great.’ Clapping her hands together, she winks at Theo and then starts walking back towards the shop. ‘Looks like you two have some catching up to do.’
‘We really don’t,’ I say just as Theo says, ‘Thank you.’
Opening the door to the shop, she turns around one final time and looks at me, humour now gone, and nods. ‘Remember, we’ll remind you.’
And then she’s gone, hands waving excitedly inside the boutique when she finds a woman browsing her mini-skirts.
‘So what will she remind you of?’ The sunlight hits his hair, causing him to look radiant, and I roll my eyes at how unfair it is that he wakes up looking like that. So unfair.
‘None of your business.’
‘Why? I’m very good with business.’
‘Are you stalking me? It seems I can’t go anywhere these days without you right behind me.’
‘Yes, Magdalen. I’m stalking you.’
‘Oh,’ I say dumbly. ‘I’m quite boring to be stalked.’
