I frown as I try to remember. Yes, I do. He spoke to her today. His longing glances turned into a conversation. Just a few words from him mean so much. She smiles at herself in the mirror and I find my own smile reflecting hers. She finishes her hair, turns down her bed and blows out her lantern. The room falls dark and yet I still feel her smiling into the darkness, her happiness filling the room.
Emerson
I wake with a jump as the gentle sun beams on my face through the fine curtains in my bedroom, and I sit up in a rush.
What was that? Shit.
A dream—a weird, realistic dream about a young girl with long dark hair and beautiful pale skin. It must have been a long time ago based on the nightdress she wore. What a weird thing for me to dream of? I sit for a moment to try and clear the memory of the beautiful girl, running my fingertips over my lips. I smile softly to myself. I have been floating on air since Mr. Twinkle kissed me last night. In fact, I don’t remember ever being this excited over a random one-off kiss from a stranger. It’s only early, but for some reason I am buzzing and I don’t feel hung over or tired at all. I can hear Hank and Vanessa talking in the lounge room before I make my way out to them.
“Good morning.” I smile as I scratch my hair. I’m wearing flannelette pajamas and it is so refreshing that I am not self-conscious this early in our new friendship.
“Hey,” Vanessa calls from the laundry room.
“How was your night?” Hank asks from his place on the floor as he watches cartoons. He is wearing his standard Tiger stripe satin boxer shorts and a daggy t-shirt. I smile as I look down at him with his head propped up on a pillow watching television. Hank has sandy blonde hair that isn’t really in a style, just overgrown. He has facial hair that isn’t really a beard, either, just overgrown whiskers, and he is really thin and tall. He’s so dorky that he has actually crossed over to super trendy.
“I had the best night ever.” I smile as I flop onto the lounge.
He looks back over his shoulder and smiles. “Did you meet someone you like better than yourself then?”
I smile broadly.
Vanessa walks back into the lounge room, she is wearing a black nighty with a huge gold glitter Hello Kitty on the front. I smile when I see her attire.
She smirks when she sees my old man checked pajamas. “Fuck. We need a makeover, don’t we?”
I nod as I make my way to the kitchen. “Coffee?” I call.
“Speak for yourself,” Hank snorts.
“Yes, please,” they both call.
“I wear these boxers for a reason.” “And what is that?” Vanessa asks.
“Tiger pants is code for me being a tiger in the bedroom.”
I giggle and pop my head around the corner to see her face. Vanessa looks at me in horror. “When are you a frigging tiger in the bedroom?”
He shrugs. “I will be… when I meet the right girl.”
My mouth drops open.
“Don’t tell me.” Vanessa frowns.
“Shut up.” Hank turns back to watching his cartoon shows.
I walk back into the lounge room. “Are you a virgin, Hank?”
“I’m not listening to you,” he replies.
I bite my lip to hold back my smile and Vanessa covers her mouth with her hands.
“What?” she mouths at me in horror.
I shrug. “I don’t know?” I mouth back.
She sits down on the lounger next to where he lays on the floor. “We need to rectify this situation,” she replies.
He shrugs. “Tell me something I don’t know. I have been trying to rectify it since I was fourteen.”
I laugh out loud. “Oh my God, Hank. What are you doing? You are wasting away.”
“I am not discussing my sexual status with you two busy bodies,” he snaps.
Vanessa puts her hands on her cheeks in horror and widens her eyes at me.
“How has this happened?” I ask. “I don’t know any virgins.”
He shrugs. “When I was at school, I wasn’t really into girls. Then it got to now and I’m too late to the party. Who wants to date a biochem virgin?”
“Holy shit! We are so getting you laid, Hank,” Vanessa cries. “This is abysmal.”
I laugh and high five Vanessa as I walk back into the kitchen. “Can I take you two out for lunch today?” I ask.
“What for?” They both call.
“For letting me stay with you, and I want you to meet my friend Brielle.”
“I have no money,” Hank replies flatly.
“I’m paying,” I call out.
“I’m in.”
“Me, too,” They both chime with renewed excitement.
I smile as I make the coffee. “And that will be good, Vanessa, because we can start our planning.”
“Planning what?” Hank calls.
“Operation Hump Hank,” I call as I pour the milk into the cups.
“Oh, fuck off,” he groans.
“Yessss.” Vanessa giggles. “From now on you are our project. You wear what we say. You do what we say. Basically, you are our bitch.”