Time passes. The boy sits at the base of the tree. The sun is setting. Rebecca sits between his legs. The wind has died down considerably. He stares blankly at the separating clouds. She hunches forward and takes a fistful of grass in her hand. She shakes her fist and releases the blades into the air. She watches their descent and turns to the boy.
“You really don’t want to go?”
“…” he shrugs.
“Come on, we’ll dance a bit, drink a bit. It’ll be tolerable.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” She laughs. “You’re easy to convince.”
She stands and pulls the boy up. “I want to change at home.”
The boy stands by her door. He can smell her. He sees wisps of imaginary steam emanating from under the door. He knocks. He hears her mumble something and he enters. He pays more attention to the room this time. His mind is more focused on the props of their previous encounter. Her bed is plain. Her window has blinds. Both are white.
He looks at the posters on the wall. Nature and science are the general themes. She is on the bed, straightening her hair. She is dressed well, as well as teenagers can be dressed. He smells himself. He cannot get a clear reading. The perfume scent is strong. He sits next to her. She smells good. He touches her leg. She smiles. He smiles. They leave.
Rebecca looks at the boy. He is wearing the predictable combination of hoodie and jeans. He is not even trying. They are walking down a street lined with trees and the wind is picking up as the sun is setting. She feels a chill.
“Do you really love me?” asks Rebecca.
“…”
“I want an answer. You can’t just say things like that and expect me to just accept it.”
“I do.” He mutters slightly louder than the strengthening wind.
Rebecca stops the boy and stares at him. She holds his arms and shakes him almost playfully.
“I don’t think you know,” she says. The boy, puzzled, pushes her arms away and continues to walk. She follows, smiling to herself.
The boy looks for Russell’s house. Some of the street lights are not working. He strains his eyes and looks for number 56. Rebecca points to a dark spot on the right.
“That’s it.” The boy looks at her. She avoids his gaze and walks ahead. Music is playing. A mix of house and party noises are audible from the street. The boy trails behind Rebecca. They reach the front door. The boy stands on the right flanking a well kempt hedge. Rebecca smiles at the human opening the door. It is Russell. He looks intoxicated already. He nearly plants his face into Rebecca’s breasts as he greets her. The boy continues to stand close to the hedge. The two at the door engage in small talk.
“You’re early.” Russell slurs.
“Ja. We decided to just come already. The park was getting boring.”
“We?”
The boy steps into Russell’s view and proceeds to greet him with a slight nod. The boy smiles at Rebecca and they enter the house. Russell stands in the doorway, rocking slightly. He watches the couple head towards the backyard.
Rebecca looks at the people grazing in their natural party habitats. She counts twenty people in groups of four. Two groups talking about something exciting. The other two, sitting and silently drinking. She spots the couch she loves. She sits. The boy follows.
“I love this couch,” she said. The boy looks at the couch and its relative position in the backyard.
“I get it,” he says and smiles. It seems to Rebecca that the party is turning into a glorified break time. The four groups are cliques, stereotypes masquerading as individuals with similar interests. She notices one girl, part of the uptight clique, staring at the two of them. Her long black hair is straightened for the occasion. She is drinking a Hunters Dry. The boy notices her and waves. The girl looks away and takes out her phone.
“I think she likes you,” Rebecca jokes as she gets up. “Want anything?”
“No, thanks.” He says.
“Sure? Not even a joint?”
“Not even. I’m not lis for anything.”
“Okay.”
The boy watches Rebecca approach Russell. They laugh and speak for a few minutes, then disappear. He continues sitting, the most enticing act of any party goer. He sees the black haired girl staring at him again, but this time when their eyes meet, she moves towards him. She sits.
“Aren’t you the one who walked out of Bio class yesterday?”
“…”
“Ja, it is you. She really went on after you left. She was kak angry!” she laughs.
“…”
“I’m Larae. Nice to meet you.”
She stretches out her hand. The boy shakes it. She looks at him for a couple of seconds and gets up.
“Come with me.” She pulls him up and takes him into the house. She proceeds to kiss him, roughly. The boy does not resist. She places his hands under her skirt. Larae stops and looks deeply into the boy’s eyes. “Let’s go to a room.”
*****
Rebecca entered the kitchen with Russell shortly on her heels. He tried to grab her swinging hand.
“C’mon, Becca”.
“Russell, which part of no don’t you understand?” she scanned the room for some kind of liquid to quench her thirst.
She turned away from the table. Opened the fridge. No alcohol.
“Where’s the dop?” She finally turned to face Russell. He leaned against a two door cupboard and looked at her with eyes barely open.
“Fridge at the bar.” He said.
“Why didn’t you tell me that outside?”
“I wanted to be alone with you.”
He walked to where she was standing and pushed her against the fridge. He forced himself against her pelvic area. With a swift motion he put his hands under her black pleated skirt and grabbed her bum. The texture of her hot pants did not register with him. Neither did the coldness of her bum.
She pushed him away with her left arm. With her right fist she punched him in the face. He staggered back. The table helped him find his balance.
“Gemors.” She said. Rebecca exited the kitchen and returned to the party.
*****
Larae turns on her side, her back towards the boy.
“That was nice,” she says.
He gets up. With a swift motion he pulls up his pants and heads for the door. Larae gets up too.
“What’s the rush? Missing her already?”
The boy leaves. Larae follows.
She grabs him by the arm at the entrance to the backyard. She kisses him. He looks at the cliques. All of them are intoxicated. Some members are sleeping on the couches. The party is dying. Larae retreats to one of her still conscious friends. The boy joins Rebecca on her favourite couch.
“Did you fuck her?” She asks.
“…”
“I knew it.” She says calmly.
“What?”
“You don’t love me. You love sex.”
“…”
*****
The boy conquers the night. The cold air tickles his cheeks. He walks slowly. He is alone. Hugging the darkness, he conquers the night. Rebecca is right. He lights a cigarette. The coal’s orange glow dances in the darkness. He fiddles with the ideas of romance.
Rebecca is right. Sex is love. He conquers the night. He kills the cigarette. He quickens his pace. Rebecca is right. He reaches home. He stretches onto his bed and closes his eyes. The warm glow of Larae or Rebecca appears. It disappears again. He does not dream. He drifts between the waking world and the world of impossibility.
In one of those worlds he conquers the night.
***
Tell us what you think: Do you think a relationship based on sex is a relationship?