Kiss a Stranger (5 page)

             
“It’s Emily’s fault,” I half-lied. “She made me pick a dare card.”

             
Mom groaned in dismay. “Please tell me you’re not going to run around naked again! I had enough complaints the last time.”

             
I let out a soft laugh at the memory of one of our neighbours Miss Tetley (withered with age and carrying rosary beads wherever she went) knocking on our door to complain about my ungodly mannerism.
“Your child’s strayed from the lord, Mrs Landon,” she’d droned in a hushed tone, unaware I was nearby. “I would do something quick about it before she’s lost to sin forever!”

I shook off that memory with a silly grin and said,
“No, Mom. It said to go out and party, hence the dress.”

             
Mom nodded, but I spotted the shadow of concern in her eyes. “Do you know where you’ll be going?”

             
“No bars,” I assured her. “I won’t be drinking. Believe me.”

             
She looked relieved. “Okay, that’s very good. I just want you to make smart decisions. I know I wasn’t… you know… around to be a better parent to you when you needed me the most, and I sound silly to be telling you to watch out now because of it –”

             
“Mom, none of it was your fault,” I interrupted her, solemnly. I stared at our reflection, keeping my eyes pinned to hers earnestly. “I was out of control. It wasn’t your doing.”

             
She nodded again, this time swallowing back a lump in her throat. Looking away, she sniffed and said, “How about you invite Miles out with you? He just got back.”

Miles was our neighbour. I’d barely seen him around lately. He was in his mid-twenties and a pretty good guy. Whenever he was around, Mom proved he was useful by making him do fix-ups around the house. He worked out at the mines, and his swings took him away from the house for weeks at a time.

He was also incredibly annoying.

“No, Mom,” I told her tiredly. “That’s just weird.”

“Why is that weird?”

“Because he’s my neighbour, and sometimes people are
better off being labelled. Like your gardener, or mailman, or doctor. In this case, neighbour.”

“Why do you have a thing against him? All the time you’re shrinking away from him.”

Because all the time he’s tried coming onto me!
My hobo attire did not deter the super weird, and Miles was super weird.

“Just no, Mom,” I told her simply with
closed eyes and a short shake of the head.

She frowned. “
Well then, fine. Let me get this dress for you and then we’ll grab some dinner.”

             
Happy to not talk about Miles, I said, “Sounds good.”

             
By the end of the night, I’d had more conversation with Mom than in the last month alone. I didn’t regret a single moment.

Not a tourist after all

I’d been trembling for two hours straight. I’d showered, straightened my hair and put the dress on. Emily stood before me, expertly applying my make-up. She’d have been a tremendous make-up artist if her mother hadn’t pressured her to go into nursing.

She didn’t remark on the tears that shone in my eyes every few minutes
that I managed to keep from falling, and I was glad. I didn’t want another pity party. It was embarrassing enough letting her know without words how weak I was. God, what had nine months of being a hermit done to me?

             
I wanted to stay home in bed. I wanted to read and wear my mammoth clothes. I wanted to feel invisible. A part of me was tempted to do just that. But as time passed, my body robotically went through the motions, and I was sitting here now realizing I was about to step foot out there again.

             
“So any reason for Club Zero in particular?” Emily asked me curiously.

             
“It’s just been a while since we’ve been there,” I answered vaguely.

             
“Oh.” She didn’t believe me, but she nodded anyway. “That’s the lamest answer in the world, but whatever. That’ll do for now.”

             
I shot her a small smile. “Believe me, you don’t want to know the real reason.”

             
“Why?”

             
“Because you’d freak out.”

             
The brush against my cheek paused. She blinked at me in surprise. “What are you keeping from me?”

             
“I don’t know just yet,” I replied, not meaning to sound mysterious, but I did. “If anything interesting happens to me, I’ll tell you everything.”

             
“And if nothing interesting happens?”

             
“Then we’ll forget all about this conversation because I’ll be too humiliated to talk about it.”

             
She let out a colourful curse and retorted, “But you’re my best friend. You’re meant to tell me everything, even the humiliating stuff.”

             
“Oh, please. How many stories have you kept from me?”

             
“Name one, liar.”

              “Two words: Prom. Night.”

             
She flinched and her cheeks flamed. “Fuck you, Claire Landon.”

             
I smiled widely now. She’d never revealed to me who she went home with on Prom Night. She’d showed up with some hunk of a jock, but he was found doing some other chick when the night was out. I didn’t understand the secrecy, but I was glad for it now. Who knew one day it’d be used against her?

             
“Is your mum gone?” she then asked. “Or is she doing another late shift?”

             
“She’s gone to see Kevin,” I answered. “Took two weeks holiday off.”

             
“How’s that relationship going?”

             
“On and off.” All thanks to me. After I’d been attacked, she’d withdrawn from her relationship with Kevin to be there for me. They’d been a solid couple for two years at that point, and to say he was shocked was an understatement. He’d always been an all-around good guy. An engineer by trade with kids of his own, he and Mom got along right from the start. Around the time she broke things off, he’d been offered a job in Melbourne. Angry at her, he took it. Needless to say, they mended their relationship after a few months and he regretted the move. I was glad to see Mom smiling again.

             
When Emily finished my make-up, I stared at my face for a few beats. She’d done well toning down the extremities of my scars, but they were still there plain as day. I swallowed and looked away. I had to forget about them for the next few hours. I just wanted this night over with so I’d never regret not going out.

             
“Let’s get out of here, huh?” I said in as much of an upbeat tone I could muster.

             
Emily squealed. “Yeah, boys! Watch out because the bitches are coming to town!”

             
I laughed and we each grabbed our clutch and headed out.

*****

The club was dark. The atmosphere was far from tame. The spectrum lights flashed and the music thumped its party mix throughout the large, crowded room. I’d completely forgotten how loud it could be. My personal space was invaded every few seconds by other bodies as Emily led me to the dance floor.

             
Once upon a time this was my haven. I’d get drunk and spin like a top under the flashing lights. The second I’d feel the warmth of a man behind me, I’d sag into him and bathe in his attention, feeling like the world was right again. I had been desperate for affection. Desperate for some kind of touching. Being with a guy was a good distraction. It made the wounds of a lifetime ago dull.

             
At the moment, remembering who I used to be was difficult. When a guy got near to me I squirmed away. Now the last thing I wanted was to be touched. I had new wounds I was recovering from, and none of them dulled in the warmth of some drunk who wanted to rub his boner into me.
Yeah, no thank you.

             
Despite the groping males, I felt oddly comfortable. Nobody looked at my scars. Maybe it was because they were all drunk, or maybe it was too dark for them to notice. Whatever was the reason, I managed to relax. I blended in for once, and the feeling of relief might have made me cry if I thought about it for long.

             
Emily forced me to dance, and when I finally started to, she drifted off from me to join the men who batted their lustful eyes at her. I cringed at the feel of a man’s chest against my back, but I didn’t push him away or move elsewhere. I pushed the feeling of panic away, knowing nothing was going to happen to me. I shut my eyes and pretended to be that girl again. The one that was confident and beautiful.

I rocked to the music, ignoring the scent of alcohol wafting from the unknown man’s mouth. His thick hands wandered my body, settling against my hips. I felt his soft chest against my back and his hard length against my ass.

              I opened my eyes and saw his grey sleeves while he moved all around me. His blonde thick hair brushed against my forehead as he tried to put his lips against mine. I turned away before he could. I didn’t want that, but the old me might not have objected.

             
My eyes roamed the club, and I wasn’t sure why I settled on a particular spot – maybe I had some kind of sixth sense I had unconsciously tapped into – but when I did, all air escaped me. My body slowed down and I blinked harder, trying to make sense of what I was looking at.

             
There
he
was.

             
I knew it was him. Of course it was him. He was standing against the wall of the dance floor, alone. Wearing all black, his pale skin appeared all the more pronounced. He looked eerily unhuman; as if the skies above spat him out of heaven and placed him here, in the world of grey and black, where he coloured our world like a rainbow.

             
Hidden in the shadows, he was watching me just outside the perimeters of the flashing lights. Without a doubt it was him. The shadows didn’t conceal him. If anything, it made him all the more pronounced. The unique lines of his face, the broadness of his shoulders, the way his chest went on for miles before meeting those narrow hips…

It was him.

My stranger.

             
I freed myself from my dancer’s arms and just stood there, gazing at him. I honestly didn’t think I’d see him. Being anxious around a crowd had distracted me enough from nervously waiting to see if he’d show up.

Of its own volition, m
y body moved to him. My heart roared louder than the music, practically sitting in my ear canals the more I neared him. I didn’t know what to say or do when I finally approached him. My stunned mind was muted by his beauty. There were some things I’d missed in my sketch of him, like how much thicker his bottom lip was to his upper, the random freckles along his jaw line, his long forehead half covered by his hair, and the thin two inch long scar above his eyebrow. He was an imperfectly perfect looking man… if that made any sense.

Those grey e
yes felt familiar to me. Just as intense as they were a year ago, I felt like I was drowning in them almost immediately.

“Not a tourist after all,” were his first words. Oh, my God, that voice. I wanted to close my eyes and savour it.
My memory did it no justice.

“No,” I replied
weakly.

             
“I’m glad you got my message.”

             
I swallowed and replied, “And you finally gave me back my wallet.”

             
His lips pulled up in that sexy smirk I imagined late at night in bed. This one in particular looked secretive. “I’d intended on doing it a lot sooner.”

             
“Why didn’t you?”

             
“Life got in the way.”

             
I didn’t respond. What the hell was I meant to say to that? I merely stared at him, entranced by his beauty, by his voice, by simply being near him!

             
“How did you know my address?” I then asked. This needed to be answered. He could be a crazy man for all I knew, and I wouldn’t dare continue this conversation if I knew he was whacko…
At least, I hoped I wouldn’t anyway.

             
He just smiled at me. His eyes skimmed my body, and I went hot at being checked out so closely. It’d been so long. “You look incredible in that dress.”

             
I eyed his black button up top and dark pants. “So do you.”

             
“I’m glad you like my dress.”

I laughed and blushed. “You know what I mean.”

He chuckled, nodding. “Yes, well. It’s been a while and I wasn’t sure about what it is people wore to clubs like these. I took a wild guess.”

             
“Not one for partying?”

             
“No. Those years are behind me.”

             
We went quiet for a few moments, seemingly taking each other in. My heart was still thumping erratically in my chest, and my skin was gleaming with sweat from the heat of the room because it surely couldn’t have all come from his presence!

             
“Do you often dance that way with men?” he then asked, glancing behind me.

             
I followed his gaze to the guy that’d groped me minutes before. He’d since moved on to another poor girl that was trying to get far from him.
Ew.
Had I really gotten close to that? I awkwardly turned away and shrugged. “It’s been a while actually.”

             
“But you did?”

             
“
Did
being the operative word.”

             
“Huh.” That smirk vanished as his eyes wandered my face. It suddenly occurred to me that he could see my scars, and the horror of that realization felt like a rocket exploding inside of me. There was no part of me that wasn’t feeling vulnerable and judged. I turned away from his stare and looked behind me in search of Emily. Maybe I could use her as an excuse to get away. I’d thank my stranger for my wallet and be gone and save him the awkwardness of having to ditch me somehow.

             
“Do you want to go someplace quiet?” I heard him ask.

             
My brows came together in confusion as I continued to look away. “Why?”

             
“Too loud in here.”

             
“I can’t just go. I didn’t come here alone.”

             
When he went quiet, I glanced at him. His face lost all charm, and he suddenly looked cold. “Did you come here with a man?” he demanded tightly.

             
My eyes widened. “It’s my friend. The one on the train you saw all that time ago, if you remember. A
girl
.”

             
He visibly relaxed, but his mouth still formed a hard line. “Didn’t want to come alone?”

             
“You thought I was stupid enough?”

             
That hard line broke and he smiled with amusement. “Don’t I have the right to?”

             
“Why do you have the right to?”

“
Slipping your wallet into my pocket wasn’t the brightest thing, was it?”

             
I flushed. He was right. It was the dumbest thing you could think of at the time, but I was strangely thrilled it’d sort of paid off. Even though it took a bloody year. Man, how screwed up was I?