47 Things Read online

  But, when he lifted his head and his eyes brushed over me, he paused slightly then moved on as if I was of no consequence.

  You’d think that would disappoint me, but it didn’t at all. Actually, it caused a huge smile to spread across my lips as I walked into the lecture hall and took a seat. You see, I’d gone to great lengths to leave that Sarah behind. I’d had my braces removed, traded in my glasses after getting laser eye surgery, and I’d learned how to tame my wild curls. In short, I grew up – I became the best damn swan I was going to be, and I relaxed into university life, figuring that if Tyler Lohan didn’t give me the time of day from kindergarten to year twelve then he certainly wasn’t going to give it to me once we got to Uni.

  However, his presence still irked me. University was supposed to be my world, and he waltzed on in there and dominated that as well. Once again, Tyler was ‘the man’ – ‘the guy’. He was like a fucking movie star or something wherever he went, and it drove me nuts to the point that Janesa called me distaste of him an obsession. I didn’t think it was. I just felt that people should get recognition for hard work and not because of the cut of their chiselled abs.

  Not that he had any idea he was doing it, but on top of my general dislike of the golden boys in this world, he was also this four-year reminder of Moama, and therefore, he was also a reminder of what a shitty daughter I was – my parents wanted me to stay and help run the farm. Instead, I put extra financial burden on them by going to university so far away, costing them a couple of hundred dollars a week in rent as well as the general life expenses that the income from our government’s student assistance didn’t cover. They wanted the best for me, so they were never going to say I couldn’t do it, but I knew in my heart that I’d disappointed them. And on top of that, I wasn’t even studying anything that could help them. So yeah, I always felt like a shitty daughter because of it.

  “Finally,” Tyler said, pulling into a parking spot in the hospital car park. “Stay where you are, I’ll help you out.”

  He jumped out of the car and trotted around to my side. I was all set to get out on my own, but the moment I moved, the pain in my foot shot up my leg again, and I knew I needed help whether I wanted it or not.

  “Alright, sweetheart, slide your arm around my neck, and I’ll carry you to the lift.”

  “This is so humiliating,” I grumbled, as I did as he asked, noting that he smelled as amazing as he looked – of course he did.

  His strong arms slid around my waist and beneath my thighs, and he lifted me from my seat and shut the door with his knee before carrying me toward the elevator bay that would take us to the emergency department. He moved with little effort, carrying me as if an extra sixty-five kilograms from a five-foot-nine woman was nothing on his frame, and I did my best to just hold on and just pray for all of it to be over quickly.

  When we got to emergency, it looked just like any other hospital waiting area – grey green linoleum on a concrete floor, cream coloured walls with chips in the paint and uncomfortable plastic chairs with that ever present smell of antiseptic. Tyler sat me on one of those uncomfortable chairs then got the clipboard from reception that I needed to fill in so I could be seen.

  “Could you do me a favour and not tell anyone back home about this?” I asked as I scribbled out my details. “The last thing I need is for my parents to come up and drag me back there if it’s broken. I’ve managed to stay away from that place for four years and I really don’t want to be forced back.”

  “No problem. I don’t even talk to anyone back home, so there’s no real risk from me.”

  “What? Not even your parents?” I asked.

  “My parents are divorced,” he said simply, looking down at the palm of his hand and massaging it slightly.

  “Whoa, I’m sorry. They always seemed so…” I stopped, not really knowing that I should have been commenting about how in love his parents had always seemed to be.

  “I know,” he agreed.

  “What happened?” I blurted, mentally wincing the moment the question left my lips.

  “Things just changed,” he said, looking away. “Mum lives about twenty minutes from here, so I see her all the time. Dad is still on the farm, I suppose.”

  “You don’t talk to him?”

  His features furrowed a little as he shook his head. “Like I said, things changed.”

  I opened my mouth to say something, perhaps it was a sorry, or perhaps it was another stupid question, but it never had the chance to leave my mouth because a pretty young nurse with blonde hair interrupted us.

  “Tyler?” she asked when she saw him. “Is everything OK?”

  “Jess!” he exclaimed, practically jumping out of his seat so he could usher her away and talk to her privately.

  From my vantage point, I blatantly watched them interact, their heads bowed close together as Tyler spoke to her for a while before they parted with a familiar embrace.

  “Girlfriend of yours?” I asked, when he returned to sit beside me.

  “Just a friend,” he responded, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs.

  “So um…how come you don’t talk to any of your old friends from high school?”

  Looking over at me, he raised his brow. “Asks the girl who left town so fast the road caught fire behind her.”

  A laugh escaped from within my chest. “You don’t even know that. I’ll give you that you knew my name from school, but you and I had absolutely nothing to do with each other. I don’t even think you spoke to me once in the entire thirteen years at Moama Grammar. So you have no idea how fast I got out of there.”

  “I beg to differ. In the summer holidays before Uni started, a bunch of us were at the river swimming and that friend of yours.” He paused and clicked his fingers a couple of times as he thought. “Erica, that’s her name. She was there with Johno, and she was saying that you took off the moment your acceptance letter turned up. And I did speak to you at school – I recall asking to borrow an eraser from you in the eighth grade in Mr Pratt’s class. You threw it at me then said you didn’t want something I’ve touched back.”

  “What?” I laughed at that last part. “No way I said that.”

  “You bloody did. I probably still have that eraser in an old pencil case somewhere back home. It has your name on it.”

  “Bullshit.” I smiled, shaking my head at his memory of me.

  “I swear to you it’s the truth. I never asked to borrow something from you again.”

  “Jeez, what a bitch. I’m so sorry, I don’t even remember doing that.”

  He shrugged his shoulders and gave me that brilliant smile of his. “It’s all good, and you weren’t a bitch, you were just different to everyone else.”

  “I didn’t really fit in that well.”

  “Looks like you fit in here just fine. I can’t believe I didn’t recognise you before today. Your hair is so different, and the glasses are gone.”

  “Yeah, and the braces. I kind of left all that awkwardness behind me.”

  “The whole reinvent yourself as a butterfly thing, huh?”

  “Yeah, I suppose.”

  “So, do you talk to anyone at all from back home?”

  It was my turn to shrug and look down. “I do. I talk to mum and dad once a week. But, my brother isn’t really interested in me because I’m not planning on helping with the farm. And mum and dad are supportive and all, but I know they’d rather it if I was doing some sort of business course that would help them.”

  “Why did you choose physiotherapy?”

  “Because of my nan. She was in a lot of pain with her hip when she hurt it, and the physio made so much difference to her. I want to be someone who makes a difference I guess. Why did you choose it?”

  “Because I think exercise and flexibility is the key to longevity, and I want help people stay mobile for as long as possible.”

  “I thought you were all into the sports sciences side of it?”

  He shook his head and o
nce again looked at his hand, massaging his palm. “No. I’m interested in peak fitness, but keeping athletes going like thoroughbred horses isn’t really my thing.”

  “Well, just when you think you know someone, they surprise you,” I commented.

  Shifting his gaze back to mine, he studied me for a moment. “Why haven’t you spoken to me this whole time?”

  Lifting my shoulders, I shrugged. “I don’t know. You didn’t seem to recognise me, and we’ve never been friends so…”

  He sat back and let out a sigh. “Can I tell you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “I did know it was you. Before, and well, this whole time. I saw you on the first day of first year.”

  “So you were lying to me just now?”

  “Yeah, well, I am an arsehole, remember?”

  “You’re not an arsehole, Tyler. Arseholes don’t insist on helping people.” He turned to meet my gaze then dropped his eyes as he chewed his lip thoughtfully. “So, if you knew who I was, why haven’t you spoken to me this whole time?”

  “Because I left Moama pretty fast too.”

  “Did something happen? I mean, something more than your parent’s split.”

  Standing, he stretched his arms above his head, and I couldn’t help but notice the little sliver of golden tan peak out between his t-shirt and navy cargo shorts. “Like I said, everything just…changed, and you, well, you remind me of before.”

  My mouth opened in preparation to say something else, but he excused himself, saying that he was going to find out what was taking so long. Then I closed my mouth and simply nodded and thanked him, as I realised that he’d spent all this time avoiding me for the same reasons I’d been avoiding him. We both reminded each other of a past we’d rather forget. A sliver of guilt pulled at my insides for all the times I thought ill toward him for having such a perfect life, because from the sounds of things, Tyler Lohan hadn’t really had a perfect life at all. Appearances aren’t always what they first seem.

  3

  “OF COURSE you live in a building with fifty bazillion stairs and no lift,” Tyler commented the moment he pushed open the door of my unit block. We were at the hospital for most of the day, although after the chat in emergency room, we didn’t bring up the subject of Moama again. I guess we both understood that the other had come to the city to start a new life. So our conversation turned more toward university and our imminent graduation.

  By the time we left, I was sporting a cast to my knee. The only bonus was that I got to choose some purple gauze for the final layer. It was as fancy as a cast was going to get.

  “It’s only two flights of stairs. Normally, they aren’t a problem at all,” I assured him as I placed my crutches on the first step and tried to hobble up the narrow concrete stairs of the aging building.

  “Let me help you,” he insisted, placing his warm hands on my hips to help me balance.

  “I have to learn how to do this myself. I’ve got six weeks in this thing,” I reminded him shaking my hips to urge him to let go.

  All I managed to do was rub his palms back and forth over my skin as he held on. Stubborn man.

  “Yeah, but you’re half doped up on painkillers, and I’m seriously about to have a heart attack watching you try to do this. How about I just carry you? It will be much faster.”

  “No. No more carrying. You seriously don’t need to be here, Tyler. I can manage on my own,” I grumbled, feeling slightly embarrassed at how warm I was becoming from his hand on my hips.

  “I do need to be here actually, because you can’t manage on your own. This is my fault, and I’m not just leaving when you could lose your balance and break your bloody neck. What’s your problem with accepting help anyway? You’ve been fighting against me all day. Is it me, or is it the actual help?”

  I put my crutches on the next step and hefted myself up as he continued to hold my hips and lift me up. His hands felt way too good as they surrounded my skin, putting my body at war with my mind, because I’ve spent years thinking that I hated Tyler Lohan. But today, he’s been nothing but nice, and my body very obviously liked him – maybe that was what I hated? Or maybe I just hated that I might have been wrong?

  I shook my head. “It’s just…” I let out my breath. “I don’t know. I just don’t like help, I guess.”

  When I traversed the next step, he lifted me so it was effortless. “Coming from someone who wants a career in helping people that’s a little backward, don’t you think?”

  Stopping, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, fighting a stubbornness inside me that was sitting firmly in my chest and acting like a crotchety old man. “Fine,” I said eventually.

  “Fine?” he asked, leaning forward so he was able to see my face.

  Opening my eyes again, I turned and looked at him. “Fine, carry me up the stairs,” I conceded in a way that sounded really juvenile.

  “I love how you say that like you’re doing me a favour,” he chuckled as he scooped me up in his arms and began to carry me the two flights of stairs to my floor.

  “Well, I kind of am. You said yourself it would be faster. I’m saving you time.”

  He glanced down at me and smiled with perfect white teeth. “I suppose you are.”

  ***

  “HOW LONG until your roommate gets home?” Tyler asked as he set me down on the couch and looked around my small one bedroom apartment.

  “Um, never. I live alone.”

  He placed his hands on his hips and raised his brow. “You moved here all by yourself?”

  “Well, we can’t all bring mummy along,” I teased, hearing him laugh as he headed toward my tiny kitchen and put the pharmacy bag of painkillers on the benchtop.

  I actually liked living on my own. I enjoyed my independence, and I enjoyed the privacy. I also enjoyed the freedom when, on the rare occasion I was inclined to bring a male home to spend the night, I didn’t have to worry about any awkward roommate conversations over breakfast the next morning.

  “It’s not like I live with my mother,” he replied, pulling a glass out of my strainer, which he held under the tap and filled with cold water. “I have my own place.”

  “So, no roommate for you either?”

  Reaching into the white paper bag, he withdrew my pills and read the instructions before popping two capsules into the palm of his hand. “No. But, it’s different for a guy. This isn’t really the safest place for pretty girls to live alone.”

  I let out a laugh as he brought me the pills and water. “Is that a line?”

  He held out the glass for me to take. “I don’t need lines, Sarah,” he said softly, as he placed the pills in my hand, his fingertips brushing along my palm. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m already alone with you in your apartment – anything could happen.”

  My breathing hitched, and I hoped he didn’t notice as his eyes bore into mine, and I wondered if this guy was actually serious. The longer it went on, the more I felt my cheeks heat as all the blood rushed embarrassingly to my head. I don’t think I was even breathing for fear of doing or saying something that would make the moment alter in some way. I was just…caught.

  Then as quickly as the mood became intense, it shifted back to normal when he gave me a wink and stepped away. “I’m joking,” he laughed. “Don’t look so freaked out. I was actually asking about a roommate because you’re going to need someone to help you out until the pain eases and you get used to moving around with a cast on.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I responded with a nervous laugh, still recovering from that weird intensity that passed between us.

  He lifted his brow again as he studied me. “So you keep saying.”

  Tossing the pills into my mouth, I drank the water and he took the glass.

  “I will be,” I insisted, figuring I’d just watch Foxtel and dine on Dominos pizza until I was forced to leave the apartment when exams started. “Seriously. I have everything I need right here.”

  Giving me a
dubious look, he took the glass back to the kitchen then checked his watch. “Listen, I have somewhere I really need to be. But, I’m going to give you my number, and if you need anything just give me a call, OK?” I watched him pull a pen off the sideboard and write on the back of the pharmacy bag. “Call me for anything at all.”

  “Sure,” I told him, even though inside I was assuring myself that there was no way in hell I was going to call. “Listen, thanks for your help today, Tyler.”

  “It was the least I could do,” he replied as he headed for the door and opened it. “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.” Then he gave me yet another wink, and he was gone.

  “I’m not your sweetheart,” I whispered the moment the door clicked shut, trying to ignore the little voice inside me that tried to tell me that it wouldn’t be so bad if I was. Instead, I reminded myself of who he was, and that for seventeen years, we practically grew up side by side. In all the time, there had never been a reason for us to be friends. Just because he spat out the gum that caused me to break my ankle, and a small bone in my foot, didn’t mean we needed to start being friends now. No – I wasn’t his sweetheart at all.

  4

  THE NEXT day, I woke up feeling exhausted and sore. I’d fallen asleep on the couch after the pills had taken effect. My arm must have been up over my head because when I moved in my sleep, this heavy thing hit my in the face, startling me awake. It was only then that I realised that I’d managed to cut the blood flow off at my shoulder as a wave of pins and needles erupted throughout my right arm.

  I groaned as the blood rushed painfully back to my fingertips, distracting myself by looking up at my stark white ceiling, grey from impending dawn that was lighting up the small room. I forced myself into a sitting position, wriggling my fingers until full sensation returned, and the moment my foot hit the floor, I had another rush of blood that caused my break to throb like a thousand obscenities.