Sticks and Stones (15 page)

High Maintenance

12 years earlier…

‘You need to swap tables with me.’ Dylan tore his eyes away from the dark haired girl opposite him to glance briefly to his side; the blonde was tapping her toe impatiently and scowling at him for some reason. They’d only just started fresher’s week and he knew, as beautiful as she was, he couldn’t possibly have got around to tapping that, so he had no idea why she was looking annoyed.

He looked back at the dark haired girl and was rewarded by a brief flicker of direct eye contact before she looked across at the blonde. He felt his heart almost stop and his stomach twist. Big, deep brown eyes framed with thick lashes, olive skin, petite frame; she was the most stunning thing he’d ever seen and the fact she would only briefly glance at him made her all the more intriguing.

There was no way he was swapping tables.

He turned fully to face the blonde. ‘Sorry babes, not happening. This body’s taken see.’ The blonde, who had been full of attitude a moment ago, seemed to have slipped into a somewhat catatonic state. Her mouth was slightly open and her eyes had glazed over as she stared into his eyes. He really hoped that she wasn’t going to pass out, or worse hurl; the dissection lab wasn’t everybody’s cup of tea after all.

Her gaze drifted down to his chest and then lower before she stammered, ‘Wh…what?’

He smirked. ‘This body,’ he said, speaking with deliberate slowness and gesturing to the cadaver outstretched on the table in front of them, ‘is ours. Get your own.’ That seemed to snap her out of her stupor and brought the fire back into her eyes.

‘Listen boyo.’ Oh a Welsh jibe. He decided he liked this one - feisty. Her toe tapping had resumed causing him to glance down at her feet and he had to hold back his laughter. Who the hell wore crazy-high heels to dissect a body for the first time? ‘You can have my body. I need to be at this table.’

He looked over to the body she was gesturing to, and then flicked another glance across at the brunette.

‘Look babes, got to be honest with you – ‘

‘Why do Welshmen say that when they are about to be anything but?’ she snapped. ‘It’s simple you big oaf, just swap with me.’ He noticed that she too had flicked a glance over at the brunette, before looking back at him and resuming that damn toe tapping. Interesting.

‘Sorry babes, no can do. I need a dong see, not a gwat. Want to be a urologist not a gynaecologist.’ Her face had turned a fiery red, and he couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or anger. Despite this he also noticed that she was pressing her lips together furiously, and he had the feeling that she was holding back laughter.

‘Did you just refer to a penis as a dong and a vagina as a gwat? You
do
know that you’re a bloody medical student don’t you?’

‘Gwat, scut, mott, clout, pussy; who cares what I call it? Nothing against them, in fact I think I get along with them pretty well in my spare time, but not interested in dissecting one of them.’

The blonde rolled her eyes. ‘How do you know you want to be a urologist so soon? It’s only the first week you moron.’

He shrugged. ‘Just do, and I want to make sure I’ve thoroughly explored the anatomy of this here one-eyed snake before the year is over, so I’m ahead of the game.’

He heard a muffled, very unladylike snort and saw her struggling not to laugh and he smiled. Having beaten back the laughter, she was about to speak again when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. The brunette had shuffled around the end of the table and come up beside the blonde, laying her hand on the blonde’s arm.

Now, this chick was definitely not in high heels. In fact she appeared to be the complete opposite of the blonde; wearing a big oversized jumper despite the warm day, and baggy jeans. She looked like she wanted to sink into the floor and disappear, which for someone of her beauty he found odd.

‘Lou,’ she said, and Dylan had to strain to make out her soft voice. ‘I’ll be fine I promise. Don’t make a fuss, you’ll get in trouble.’ The blonde, who he now knew was called Lou, turned towards her and stepped in close to whisper in her ear.

‘Okay,’ he saw the brunette mouth, giving Lou a shaky smile.

‘Right,’ Lou said, stepping away from the brunette and staring at Dylan. ‘Large, Welsh, foul-mouthed, rude, Neanderthal guy, this is Frankie. Frankie this is – ‘

‘I’m Dylan,’ he put in smoothly, reaching across Lou to shake Frankie’s hand. He was startled to notice a flash of fear in her eyes as he closed his big hand around her small one for a moment, before she jerked it away. Hmm…shy; he liked it.

‘She’s not all that keen on the whole cutting up bodies thing,’ Lou said and he tore his eyes away from Frankie, who was now looking down at her hands as she twisted them together nervously. ‘So just be a little bit – ‘

‘She’ll be fine with me,’ he said confidently. Half an hour of his legendary charm, she’d be eating out of his hand and totally forgetting her squeamishness.

Lou sighed.

‘I’m just over there okay,’ she said, squeezing Frankie’s arm before giving him a hard look and turning to strut back to her table.

Now there was nothing shy, quiet or shuffling about that girl, he mused as he noticed a large percentage of the male eyes in the room fastened onto her backside as she gracefully weaved thorough the dissection tables. Even Mike, who was evidently Lou’s dissection partner, looked momentarily stunned when she came to a stop opposite him at their table, and Dylan knew for himself how devoted Mike was to his girlfriend back home.
High maintenance,
Dylan thought as he shook his head and focused back on the down-bent dark head across the table from him. Now this one was much more his style. He caught her eye and smiled the smile he had perfected in order to melt the knickers off the girls back home.

This should be easy.

*****

‘What is the matter with her?’ Lou watched as Dylan paced up and down in front of her in corridor outside the dissection room, Frankie having scuttled off as soon as the session had ended.

God he was beautiful.

Everything about him was perfection. His piercing green eyes, his bulky frame, his mouth, which seemed to be perpetually pulled up at the side in a little half smile as if he was always on the verge of finding humour in any situation. He wasn’t laughing now though, his mouth was set in a very uncharacteristic grim line. He tore his hands thorough his hair and she distractedly noticed the sleeves of his jumper were pulled up to his elbows.

Crikey, there was no hope for her. Even just his forearms were virtually reducing her to a puddle of lust.

He stopped pacing and was looking directly at her, his green eyes boring into hers.

‘Well?’ he asked impatiently. She realized that he’d just been ranting again, and, with the forearm distraction, she hadn’t managed to catch a single word.

‘Uh…I’m sorry what?’

He rolled his eyes. ‘I know that you don’t really want to lower yourself to speak to me duchess, but you could at least make some effort to listen to what I’ve got to say.’ She was glad that he couldn’t read her mind; he had no idea what she wanted. If he did he would probably run screaming down the corridor.

She’d overheard him talking to one of his rugby mates in the library the other day about her and Frankie. Dylan and his friend Mike had started spending a fair amount of time with Lou and Frankie over the last few weeks. Lou knew it had a lot to do with Dylan’s obsession with Frankie, an obsession to which Frankie was completely oblivious. Luckily the boys were both such a good laugh that Lou wasn’t really bothered by their motives.

Much.

That day in the library she had been bothered though. That was one of the few days that Lou had actually given in to emotion and allowed herself to cry.

‘Those birds that you hang out with mate,’ one of the prop forwards had asked Dylan. Lou was sitting at a computer behind a big bookshelf right next to them but completely hidden from view. ‘Care to introduce me or don’t you share? You can’t need both for yourself, and your mate is practically a eunuch with how devoted he is to his Mrs back home.’

‘Not your type mate,’ she heard Dylan mutter, annoyance lacing his tone.

‘Uh, they’re fit, they’re single; that’s definitely my type.’

‘Female with a pulse is your type,’ another male voice put in. ‘In fact, I’m not even sure you’re that fussy. Was that a woman or a sheep you brought home last night? No offence Dyl. Don’t want to insult the way of your people or anything.’

Dylan snorted. ‘Ah more sheep jokes boys, keep ‘em coming; I can’t get enough. I must say I’m hoping it was a sheep, then maybe we can go trawling the valleys together of a weekend.’ Muted male laughter filled the library for a moment.

‘Seriously mate,’ the first guy started again. ‘Just a little intro. What’s the harm?’

‘No you listen to me
mate
,’ Dylan’s voice had dropped down an octave and the atmosphere was suddenly thick with tension. ‘Stay away from the brunette. She is seriously
not
your type. In fact, if any of you rejects so much as breathes on her, I won’t be pleased.’

‘Christ, don’t get your knickers in a twist.’ Lou could just make out the prop forward through the books, holding his hands up in surrender. Dylan was facing away from her but she could see his hands where he was gripping his text book, his knuckles white. ‘No brunette. Message received. What about the blonde?’

Lou watched as Dylan’s hands relaxed and the tension shifted out of his body. ‘Have at it mate but I’ve got two words for you: high maintenance.’

‘Don’t think I’d mind putting in the hard yards maintaining that piece of arse mate,’ the prop forward said.

‘Well good luck to you,’ Dylan returned, looking completely relaxed now that they weren’t discussing his precious Frankie. ‘I like mine heavy on the sweet and light on the ball-breaking bitch, but each to his own.’

Lou stared at her computer screen, her body frozen solid. Is that how he thought of her? A high maintenance ball-breaking bitch? They bantered easily enough and he sure as hell laughed at her jokes. He’d even snorted a whole load of coke the wrong way in the cafeteria the other lunchtime he’d been laughing so hard after she had announced her new name for her vagina: Princess Mufflington le Foof.

She felt the tears sliding down her face, but forced herself to remain perfectly still until she was sure they had all left half an hour later. 

‘Look Dildo.’ With the memory of the library incident fresh in her mind Lou’s attitude snapped back into place. ‘Maybe not trying to make her throw up would be a start.’

‘I was trying to make her laugh or at least get a smile out of her,’ he explained.

‘Well you succeeded in turning her stomach and likely scarring her for life. Well done genius.’

‘It was funny,’ Dylan said through gritted teeth. ‘Everyone else was pissing themselves.’

‘Why the hell do you think I wanted to swap tables with you in the first place you insensitive prick? I told you she was squeamish.’

‘Well I kind of forgot about that,’ he mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets and scuffing the floor with his shoe.

‘Yeah Dildo, I think I got that today when you reached into the chest cavity, fished out what look like formaldehyde soaked human tissue, and ate it.’

‘It was a ruddy joke!’ Dylan blasted, flinging his arms out in frustration before shoving his hands back in his pockets. ‘It’s not my fault that the cafeteria lunch meat looks totally convincing as dead flesh.’

On seeing that little performance Frankie’s face had lost all colour, she’d swayed on the spot for a moment before rushing out of the double doors with her hand over her mouth. Lou had charged after her into the ladies to find her kneeling in front of one of the toilets re-experiencing the grim tuna roll she’d forced down at lunch. It didn’t help that that particular day had been the day the legs had been taken off, splitting the pelvis in two. Even Lou, who had a cast iron stomach, had balked slightly at various classmates wandering over to the sinks with severed human legs in tow in order to wash them out, and a minor leg sword fight over the remaining tap hadn’t helped matters either.

‘You must have noticed she was looking a bit peaky today,’ Lou said in exasperation. ‘Are you blind?’

‘Some of us bloody love dissection Lou. I was caught up in the excitement. I mean we got to use power tools and saws today. How cool is that?’

‘I don’t know why you want to be a urologist. Orthopaedic surgeon would suit you much better.’

Dylan’s eyes lit up. ‘Mmmm…maybe you’re right. Orthopod, I like the sound of that.’ Lou rolled her eyes.

‘You’ll fit right in.’

Dylan smiled for a moment then shook his head, his scowl returning. ‘Look, just tell me what to do. She’s literally said two words to me the whole term, and getting any eye contact is like getting blood out of a stone. I know that all you want is for her to be happy Lou, and I promise you I can make her happy.’

Lou sighed and looked down at the floor for a moment, an image of Frankie’s terrified face on the first day they met when they were moving into halls flashed into her mind. Lou had brought a lot of stuff with her. A lot. One of the reasons she’d brought so much was that she simply had an incredible amount of material possessions, the other reason was that her dad had promised her he would help her move in. At the last minute however Lou’s mum had managed to convince her dad that he was babying her, and that he should let her go with just Henry the chauffeur. Unfortunately Henry had been briefed by her mother not to help her with her stuff either. He looked uncomfortable driving off and leaving her on the pavement outside her halls surrounded by a great mountain of bags, but Lou knew that he really didn’t have a choice; her mother was probably timing his return to the minute.