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Authors: Emily Maguire
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need of a cold glass of beer.’
Mike went to get her a drink. Sarah took the opportunity to tell Jess how hot her new catch was. ‘I really like this guy,’ Jess said. ‘I really, really like him, you know?’
‘That’s great,’ Sarah said. ‘Good for you.’
Jamie pulled Sarah aside and leant in close. ‘Don’t even think about it,’ he whispered.
‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Sarah, I mean it. Look how happy Jess is. Just keep your hands – your
everything
– to yourself with this one.’
‘But he’s so irresistible. How ever will I control myself?’
‘I’m not joking.’ Jamie narrowed his eyes the way he did when he wanted to appear serious and severe. Sarah had never told him how cute that look was, because then he would stop doing it. ‘You can have any bloke you want. Except this one.’
‘Can I have that one?’ She pointed to a random table-slouching drunk.
Finally, a smile. ‘Yes, Sarah.’
‘Thanks, Mum.’ Sarah kissed his cheek. She considered sitting down and drinking the beer Mike had put on the table for her, but she didn’t know how to sit across from a hot stranger and not flirt.
She picked up the beer. ‘Thanks. Now, I’d love to stay and chat but Jamie told me I can have that man over there.’
‘Sarah! That’s not what I–’
‘You said I could, Jamie-boy, and I’m going to. Just watch me.’
There was a stunned silence. She felt a surge of pride at her ability to render them all speechless, followed by a bigger surge of fear at what she was about to do. She turned and began walking to the table she had indicated. The man was staring into his almost empty glass. He had greasy black hair, a crooked nose and a salt-and-pepper stubbled face. Why, oh why, Sarah thought, do I do these things? Why can’t I just sit down with my friends and have a drink and go home and clean my teeth and go to bed? Why do I always have to–
‘She won’t will she?’ Mike’s voice behind her.
‘No way,’ Shelley said. ‘That man is so
ugly
.’
And then Sarah had no choice, because the man
was
ugly and the world being what it was, he probably never had women wanting to sleep with him. Sarah knew she was pretty, and she knew she hadn’t done any more to deserve her beauty than that man had to deserve his ugliness. It wasn’t fair that he had to go through life being unwanted and untouched when Sarah had all the wanting and touching she could handle. And besides,
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind
. This man had as much chance as any other of being the man who would split her soul wide open.
3
Every weekday morning, Sarah argued with herself about whether she could afford to miss just one day of uni. She had worked till late, partied until later, was too tired, too hungover, needed to clean her flat, wash her clothes, get stuck into the next due paper. But she knew that even one day would hurt her, because it would not seem to hurt her at all and she would be tempted to repeat the exercise until it did. So every day she dragged her tired, aching, hungover carcass out of bed, threw on her least dirty clothes, stumbled through the wreckage of last night’s beer cans and walked the two blocks to the bus stop. She always sat up the back of the bus, her head against the window, her legs up on the seat to prevent anyone from sitting close to her. The journey took twelve minutes and every second of it was spent wondering how the hell she was going to make it through another day. She knew she would be sick as soon as she smelt the blood and bones fertiliser on the lawn. She would fall asleep in Gender Studies for sure. If she made it to lunch without passing out, it would be a miracle.
And every day, the miracle occurred. No matter how wrecked Sarah felt when she staggered off the bus, she was instantly refreshed by the sight of the Miles Franklin Building up ahead. It wasn’t a beautiful building; it
Mike went to get her a drink. Sarah took the opportunity to tell Jess how hot her new catch was. ‘I really like this guy,’ Jess said. ‘I really, really like him, you know?’
‘That’s great,’ Sarah said. ‘Good for you.’
Jamie pulled Sarah aside and leant in close. ‘Don’t even think about it,’ he whispered.
‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Sarah, I mean it. Look how happy Jess is. Just keep your hands – your
everything
– to yourself with this one.’
‘But he’s so irresistible. How ever will I control myself?’
‘I’m not joking.’ Jamie narrowed his eyes the way he did when he wanted to appear serious and severe. Sarah had never told him how cute that look was, because then he would stop doing it. ‘You can have any bloke you want. Except this one.’
‘Can I have that one?’ She pointed to a random table-slouching drunk.
Finally, a smile. ‘Yes, Sarah.’
‘Thanks, Mum.’ Sarah kissed his cheek. She considered sitting down and drinking the beer Mike had put on the table for her, but she didn’t know how to sit across from a hot stranger and not flirt.
She picked up the beer. ‘Thanks. Now, I’d love to stay and chat but Jamie told me I can have that man over there.’
‘Sarah! That’s not what I–’
‘You said I could, Jamie-boy, and I’m going to. Just watch me.’
There was a stunned silence. She felt a surge of pride at her ability to render them all speechless, followed by a bigger surge of fear at what she was about to do. She turned and began walking to the table she had indicated. The man was staring into his almost empty glass. He had greasy black hair, a crooked nose and a salt-and-pepper stubbled face. Why, oh why, Sarah thought, do I do these things? Why can’t I just sit down with my friends and have a drink and go home and clean my teeth and go to bed? Why do I always have to–
‘She won’t will she?’ Mike’s voice behind her.
‘No way,’ Shelley said. ‘That man is so
ugly
.’
And then Sarah had no choice, because the man
was
ugly and the world being what it was, he probably never had women wanting to sleep with him. Sarah knew she was pretty, and she knew she hadn’t done any more to deserve her beauty than that man had to deserve his ugliness. It wasn’t fair that he had to go through life being unwanted and untouched when Sarah had all the wanting and touching she could handle. And besides,
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind
. This man had as much chance as any other of being the man who would split her soul wide open.
3
Every weekday morning, Sarah argued with herself about whether she could afford to miss just one day of uni. She had worked till late, partied until later, was too tired, too hungover, needed to clean her flat, wash her clothes, get stuck into the next due paper. But she knew that even one day would hurt her, because it would not seem to hurt her at all and she would be tempted to repeat the exercise until it did. So every day she dragged her tired, aching, hungover carcass out of bed, threw on her least dirty clothes, stumbled through the wreckage of last night’s beer cans and walked the two blocks to the bus stop. She always sat up the back of the bus, her head against the window, her legs up on the seat to prevent anyone from sitting close to her. The journey took twelve minutes and every second of it was spent wondering how the hell she was going to make it through another day. She knew she would be sick as soon as she smelt the blood and bones fertiliser on the lawn. She would fall asleep in Gender Studies for sure. If she made it to lunch without passing out, it would be a miracle.
And every day, the miracle occurred. No matter how wrecked Sarah felt when she staggered off the bus, she was instantly refreshed by the sight of the Miles Franklin Building up ahead. It wasn’t a beautiful building; it
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