Page 21 of Society Girl
A moment of music and winter wind passed between them.
“No.”
“Do you want me to go? I don’t have to stay if you’re uncomfortable.”
“No. You can stay.”
So, he played. No grand conversation, no snapping retorts and fiery, sexually charged discussion. Just a beautiful, sad, and strange woman, a man with hope and music in his heart, and a wall of music protecting them both. He’d play a few songs, then stop for a sip of water and they’d share a few words. About Oxford. About Ashbrooke. Strangers passing through would throw a few coins in his case and more than a few strange looks her way, but the yard was safe from insults, spoken aloud or written on the map of her body. They went on like this for two hours. And when some eighties hit his parents loved wound down, she spoke. “Why are you still here?”
For the first time since taking his defensive post in front of her, he faced her once more. Her shoulders sagged, and he was positive it wasn’t from the weight of his coat pressing down on her.
“I like singing.”
Sam lowered to a whisper, her eyes dashing back and forth as if she was afraid the trees and walls of the common were eavesdropping on them. “They aren’t going to be back for me until morning.”
Ah, there it was. All of the cards laid out on the table. But he maintained the premise. She’d lost enough tonight. He didn’t need to take any more pieces of her pride by admitting why he’d stayed.
“I’ve got plenty of songs to sing.”
In the countryside near Oxford there was a hill called Hangman’s Hill. The name wasn’t great, but it had the best view of the stars. No light pollution, no encroaching trees. When he needed to restore his faith in the world, he would wake himself up before sunrise, drive up to the crest of the hill, and lie there as the stars dissolved into sunrise. He considered it the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
It was nothing compared to the smile she gave him.
Two hours turned into four, which turned into six. By the time the sun broke over Oxford, his throat was raw, and his body shook from the cold. The guitar playing had peeled his skin away painfully from his fingers. Finally, a hand tapped his shoulder. She was once again undressed, his coat extended out between them, putting more distance between them than had been there all night.
“Take this.”
“Hm?”
“They’ll be coming back any second.” She gave a self-deprecating titter of laughter. It didn’t make her smile seem any more genuine. “Don’t want to get caught with my ass covered.”
Begrudgingly, he took the fabric from her; her heat still warmed the inside.
“Listen… This was really…” If things were different, he might have laughed at how difficult it was for her to express her gratitude. What it really told him was she hadn’t been given enough opportunities to be grateful. “Thank you.”
“Like I said. I had some songs I needed to sing.”
As soon as he spoke, a different kind of singing hit them. It hadn’t quite made it to them yet, but it was close. Vulgar drinking songs. A sign Animos was coming.
“Get your tits out for the lads! Get your tits out for the lads.”
“I guess I’d better shove off, then.”
“Yeah.”
Ask for her number, you numpty. How hard is it? “Hey, I like you, and I’d like to have a chat with you when you’re not naked. Can I have your number?”
Daniel shook his head at his own cowardice but collected his things and wandered off. Close enough to hear, but far enough no one would suspect he’d spent the entire night with her.
“Piggy! Here, Piggy, Piggy, Piggy. Time for some bacon!”
Between the name-calling and the sign at Sam’s feet, Daniel could only guess Piggy was her nickname, but his blood chilled as a band of blue-suited assholes in top hats ran up to her, shoving strips of the greasy stuff in her mouth. Even with her obligation to the task over, they made no move to cover her or help warm her up. It sickened him.
The leader held her at arm’s length, inspecting every inch of her. Daniel didn’t like the predatory, hungry look of him. He wasn’t a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He was a lion in wolf’s clothing.
“Let’s see what we got here. Lots ofcunts.” The man’s hand traced some words on her upper thigh. Sam didn’t flinch. Daniel watched as she composed herself in the same mask of quiet detachment she was in when he met her last night. “Very nice. A few dick drawings, impressive. Not as much as I was expecting, I have to say.”
Finding a place on a nearby bench, Daniel followed them with a judgmental stare. He couldn’t help it. The way they looked at her, the way they ruffled her hair and handed her a flask. They made their move to leave, but he caught Sam pointing at him.
