—27—
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
Route 78 tram towards Richmond
Frankie groaned and flung herself out of bed, walking bleary-eyed to her front hallway to answer the loud call of the buzzer.
‘What?’ she snapped at the intercom.
‘Rise and shine, beautiful,’ Cat called from the other end. Frankie rolled her eyes and reluctantly pressed the button to let her friend up. She opened her front door and curled up under a blanket on the couch, preparing herself for the bubbliness that was Cat at 6.20 in the morning. Right on cue, Cat pranced in wearing a shiny, neon-blue knitted two-piece, all ‘Good morning, sunshine!’ and ‘Listen to the three new things I observed on my way over here!’ But she also handed Frankie a large takeaway cup of coffee, so Frankie almost forgave her.
‘No matter how good this coffee is, I still hate you for friending Sunny on Facebook after I specifically told you no more virtual contact,’ Frankie grumbled as she sipped on the steaming coffee.
Cat kissed Frankie on the cheek. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You’re such a trouper.’
Frankie merely sighed.
‘But Frank, can I tell you what I’m actually really excited for?’ Cat said.
‘To plant more fruit in Sunny’s car? To sleep with your K-Pop instructor again?’
‘Ouch and double ouch. No, to spend some quality time with Sunny! It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you remotely interested in a guy. Dare I suggest you might even be willing to close “the gap” just a tiny bit?’
‘Thanks, Cat. Now, don’t say any of that stuff to Sunny. Or I’ll kill you.’
Cat mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key.
‘And don’t tell him about the blog, either. He doesn’t know anything about the train dates. And don’t mention Ads, or my mum, or that we stalked him that one time, or—’
‘How about I just do what I usually do, and only talk about myself? That will avoid me accidentally divulging last night’s sneaky pash.’
‘Perfect.’
‘Now, go get ready. He’ll be here in five!’ Cat said, half pushing, half dragging Frankie off the sofa.
‘Okay, okay. What does one wear to a morning rave, anyway?’
Ten minutes later, Frankie returned wearing bright green leggings, a tight white tank and a pink headband. Cat was sitting on her couch, stroking Winnie, and Sunny was sitting cross-legged next to her. He was wearing a skin-tight, bright purple morph suit, which showed off every curve and bulge of his beautiful body.
‘Sunny!’ Frankie laughed. ‘What on earth are you wearing?’
‘It’s what all the kids are wearing to morning raves these days,’ Sunny smirked, stretching out his purple-clad legs.
‘Can you just imagine how sexy I would look in one of those?’ Cat shimmied. ‘And before you say anything, there’s no need to remind me, Frankston – I’ve already apologised for the bananapocalypse. Told him it was all my idea.’ Cat threw Sunny a knowing look.
‘You don’t look half-bad yourself either, Frank.’ Sunny grinned.
Frankie brushed her hair from her face and smiled back.
‘Oh, look at you two love birds. You remind me of a young Elizabeth and Mr Darcy.’ Cat put her hand on her heart.
‘Who?’ Sunny asked.
Masses of people dressed in loud colours piled into the Melbourne Cricket Ground as Frankie, Sunny and Cat approached. A loud, thumping beat reverberated around them, which Frankie could feel all the way through her veins and into her heart.
‘Tickets?’ a young girl with green spray-painted hair asked at the door. Cat pulled out her phone to be scanned, and in return the girl handed over three shot glasses filled with thick green liquid. ‘Here’s your complimentary wheatgrass shots,’ she sang.
Downing their drinks and grimacing at the taste, they filed through the archway and gawked at the sight that unfolded before them. The stadium was packed to the brim with thousands of people, all huddled together on the grass, dancing. Masses of glitter dropped, seemingly from nowhere, carried on the cool breeze slipping through the open roof. They found their feet moving involuntarily to the beat of the loudly pulsating music.
‘Come on, let’s go!’ Cat grabbed Sunny and Frankie’s hands, pushing towards the centre of the crowd.
‘This! Is! So! Fun!’ Cat shouted in between breaths. She had been periodically shimmying and twirling between blueberry-eating recharge sessions. Cat looked over at Frankie, who was jumping up and down rigidly on the spot. Sunny was doing the same, awkwardly, beside her.
‘Come on, guys! You have to let loose!’ Cat rolled her hips towards them. ‘Frank, imagine what good material this is for your blog.’ Cat smiled, and then froze as Frankie glared at her.
‘I mean, if you were to ever write one! I’ve been begging Frankie to write one for years but she just refuses to listen,’ Cat said quickly to Sunny.
‘I’ve been trying to get her to write too. She’s so talented, isn’t she?’ Sunny said.
‘She sure is, my friend. But now’s not the time to talk about Frankie’s talent. Now’s the time to dance!’ Cat said, sashaying violently. Frankie followed suit, dipping her face away from Sunny.
Rain started to fall lightly. One, then two, then three drops touched Frankie’s face.
‘It’s just a bit of rain, Frank!’ Cat shouted as Frankie crossed her arms. ‘Live a little!’
‘I’m just going to take a breather,’ Frankie said.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Sunny said quickly.
‘Come back here when you’ve finished breathing, and you’re ready to dance!’ Cat called after them.
Frankie pushed past the crowds of energetic ravers, Sunny following closely behind, his breath prickling her neck. She was almost at the exit when she heard him call her name. She turned around to see him flinging his arms around and wiggling his hips.
‘Wait, I love this song!’ he shouted.
‘You’re kidding me. Beyoncé?’
‘It’s only the best, most profound song of all time. I mean, whoa oh oh, whoa oh oh. Come on! It’s magic.’ Sunny grabbed her hands, pulling her forward and back, twirling her round and round.
‘You’ve got moves, Sunny!’ Frankie laughed, throwing her head back and finally relaxing just a little.
‘One year of tap-dancing classes will do that to you,’ Sunny replied.
‘You’re full of surprises, Mr Day.’
She let him spin her round as thunder swelled loudly above them and the sky began to open. The rain swiftly transformed from a drizzle to a downpour, hitting them harshly like a cliffhanger at the end of a chapter. But nothing could stop them; they gyrated, they turned and twisted and spiralled as the rain hit them harder and harder. The crowd around them began to disperse, in search of cover, until it was just them and the hardcore ravers dancing in the downpour. And at that moment, Frankie felt freer than she had in years. She didn’t care that her life wasn’t exactly where she had hoped it would be, she didn’t mind at all. Because at that moment, she was happy. Truly, uncomplicatedly happy. She whirled into Sunny’s embrace, slung her arms around his neck and kissed him in the rain. It was her very own Elizabeth Bennett and Mr Darcy moment – even if Sunny didn’t know who they were.
‘There’s no slowing Cat down is there?’ Sunny said, following Frankie into her apartment. They were both soaking wet and out of breath, having sprinted home in the rain.
‘She loves a good boogie. When my first boyfriend broke up with me, she took me to a salsa club and didn’t let me stop dancing until the pain went away. I couldn’t walk for two days.’
‘She’s a good friend,’ Sunny said.
‘She’s insane. But she’s loyal as hell.’ Frankie smiled.
‘I can tell.’
‘How so?’
‘This morning, when you were getting dressed, she told me if I messed with you she’d slit my throat. She kept running her finger across her neck whenever you weren’t looking.’ Sunny laughed.
‘Oh God, I’m so sorry. She’s a little overprotective.’
‘Actually, it’s kind of endearing.’
Frankie cracked open the lid of Winnie’s tank and nudged him affectionately just as a large crack of thunder erupted, making her jump.
‘I can’t believe it’s storming,’ she said.
‘That’s Melbourne for you.’
‘You must be freezing. Do you want to shower?’ Frankie asked, admiring the way Sunny’s morph suit clung even tighter to his incredible body when wet.
‘No, that’s okay, you go first. You’re drenched,’ Sunny said with a smile, pulling at the rim of Frankie’s top, which was now translucent, revealing the shadow of her bra. He took a step closer, placing his open palm on her stomach, the tips of his fingers grazing her bare skin.
‘I’m fine too. I’ll just change.’ She hesitated for a moment, the heady feeling from just an hour ago lifting. ‘I’m sure I’ve got something for you to wear too. A wet morph suit is never a good idea.’ Frankie laughed, looking him up and down. ‘I’ll be right back.’ Somewhat reluctantly she took a step back, Sunny’s hand falling from her body.
She closed her bedroom door behind her, leaning against it. Eyes squeezed shut, she breathed in deeply then peeled off her wet clothes, throwing them into her laundry basket on her way to grab a towel. She quickly dried off, then threw on some blue jeans and a black T-shirt, before opening her bottom drawer. Ads’ drawer. She hadn’t touched it in two years. Well, except for the few tragic nights she had taken out his jumper and smelled it. That and a pair of jeans were the only things of his she had left, but this time, as she carefully unfolded them, for the first time, her heart didn’t tighten. She slammed the drawer shut with her foot and walked back into the living room. Sunny was sitting on the couch in nothing but his briefs, his morph suit balled up in the corner.
‘Sorry, it got cold,’ he said.
She cautiously placed the fresh clothes in front of him.
Sunny slid the jumper over his head. ‘Should I be worried that you have men’s clothes in your apartment?’
‘Not at all. They’re just my ex-boyfriend’s.’
Sunny raised an eyebrow, about to ask a question, but Frankie butted in before he got the chance.
‘They’re old. I should’ve thrown them away a long time ago,’ she said, sitting down next to him.
‘Can I get you anything to eat or drink?’ Frankie asked.
‘I’m actually pretty hungry. That wheatgrass shot surprisingly didn’t quite hit the spot. What do you have?’ Sunny smiled.
‘I’ve got a packet of Skittles, a Kit Kat and a slice of cheese.’ Frankie laughed.
‘I’ll go the Skittles.’ Sunny smiled.
‘Skittles it is!’
‘Thanks, Hazel.’
Frankie froze.
‘I mean Frankie. Thanks, Frankie.’ Sunny pushed his hand awkwardly through his hair.
Frankie walked to the kitchen silently and grabbed the Skittles. As she stood for a moment, staring at the colourful packaging, it hit her. He’s not over her. He’ll never really be over her. How could she have thought she could take Hazel’s place? Beautiful, auburn-haired, blue-eyed Hazel. She was probably a doctor. Or a social worker. She probably died heroically, saving people’s lives. She—
‘Frankie, I’m sorry. I don’t know why that happened.’ His voice startled her, and she spun around to see him standing in the doorway.
‘It’s fine,’ she said, stuffing five Skittles into her mouth and holding out the packet.
‘It doesn’t seem fine.’ Sunny took the packet and put his other hand on hers.
‘It’s okay. I completely understand.’ Frankie half-smiled at him, and tried to believe it.
‘Can we sit?’ he asked quietly.
When they were seated on the couch, Sunny looked at her, his eyes pained. ‘Hazel died unexpectedly, just over five years ago.’
Frankie took a deep breath, suddenly unsure about everything. ‘We really don’t have to talk about this.’
‘It was a huge shock to everyone, including me,’ Sunny said. ‘And the worst part is, she could have been saved. If more people opted to donate their organs, it might have been okay …’ His voice trailed off and he stared somewhere far away, back in time.
‘What happened?’ Frankie dared to ask after what seemed like forever sitting in silence.
‘We were on holiday, driving around the South of France. It was so romantic. I’m talking croissants and baguettes for days.’ Sunny’s eyes glazed over. ‘Hazel was too scared to drive on the right-hand side of the road. I, of course, thought it was the most fun thing in the world. Just a part of the adventure! On our last day we drove from St Tropez to Nice. I begged Hazel to drive. We were only ninety minutes from Toulon. I told her she should live a little.’ Frankie shuddered. ‘Half an hour in, she got confused on a turn and swerved over to the wrong side of the road.’ Sunny paused, stiffening at the memory. ‘We hit a truck. I blacked out and woke up in hospital with a punctured lung and a broken arm. The next thing I remember is being told that Hazel had died.’ He paused, breathed and shattered before her eyes.
Hazel. His love. Dead in an instant. Without so much as a farewell. Frankie grappled with what she was hearing, struggling to comprehend what he had been through. ‘Sunny, I’m sorry. So, so sorry. I don’t know what to say. I can’t begin to fathom the pain you’ve been through. The loss.’
‘That’s why I’m so passionate about working with Transplant Australia,’ Sunny said quietly. ‘Maybe I can do something to make up for it.’
‘Make up for it?’ Frankie repeated, then awkwardly placed her hand on his shoulder. ‘It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known what would happen.’
He shook his head. ‘I should never have pushed her to drive. She wasn’t comfortable. The guilt. It’s something I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life,’ he said, chillingly monotone.
‘Sunny. It wasn’t your fault. You cannot blame yourself,’ Frankie said again, and then when he didn’t respond she continued to ramble. ‘I’m so sorry you lost the love of your life, Sunny. I can’t imagine the trauma you must have been through. Must still be going through.’ She looked down to see herself patting his shoulder uncomfortably, as if he were an uncle she saw once a year at Christmas.
‘Thanks, Frankie. And just so you know …’ He took her hand and wrapped it around himself, leaning into her. ‘I truly believe you can have more than one love of your life.’
Frankie tensed. ‘I have a gap,’ she blurted.
‘A what?’
‘A gap. Well, that’s what Cat and I call it. My feelings are all bottled up in here,’ she pointed to her chest. ‘And when I try to express them to, say, you,’ she pointed the same finger into Sunny’s chest, ‘they fall out on the way into the gap.’ She pointed to the air between them. ‘I think it’s this constant fear I can’t seem to shake. This fear of being disappointed, hurt, misunderstood.’ She stopped, and fidgeted with her hands. ‘Um, I thought I should tell you something, you know, personal, because you just opened up to me,’ she added.
‘That wasn’t personal, Frankie.’ Sunny laughed. ‘We all have a gap. Some of us are just better at filling it than others.’
Frankie shifted an inch away, taken aback by Sunny’s quick dismissal. ‘Oh. Well, you can ask me anything, then,’ she uttered. ‘I forced you tell me something you weren’t ready to tell me. You can ask me anything you want.’
He watched her for a moment before he said, ‘Anything?’
‘Anything.’
‘Why don’t you write anymore?’
‘Have you seen the reviews?’ Frankie half-laughed. ‘That’s why I don’t write anymore. Not anything real anyway.’
‘I don’t believe that,’ Sunny said evenly. ‘I think you’re afraid. Just like you’re afraid to open up around me, to let yourself fall. Writing’s who you are. It’s every particle of you. It’s like if I told Katniss Everdeen she was terrible at fighting. She wouldn’t care. She would continue to shoot those arrows with everything she’s got.’
‘Well, lucky for me, this isn’t life and death,’ Frankie said.
‘Frank, I’ve read your stuff. It’s amazing.’
‘That’s contrary to popular opinion,’ she bit.
Sunny stood up. It’s over, Frankie silently berated herself.
‘Where are you going?’ she called out to him. He picked up a pen and the notebook on her dining table.
‘Here,’ he said.
‘What’s this for?’
‘Write something. Anything. I’ll show you it’s not scary.’
‘I can’t just write something!’ Frankie said, pushing the notebook away.
‘Why not?’
‘Because. That’s not how it works.’
‘Come on, Frankston. Just write something. I promise I won’t judge you.’ Sunny waved his hands in the air.
‘Okay.’ Frankie sighed. ‘But don’t look.’
Sunny turned his back to her as Frankie stared at the notebook resting in her hands. Tentatively, she peeled open the cover, cracking the book’s spine. A fresh piece of paper. Frankie looked up at Sunny. His back looked so firm, the edge of his shoulder blades protruded slightly through his jumper. She clicked her pen and, before changing her mind, quickly scribbled something down.
‘I’m ready,’ Frankie said, slamming the notebook shut and handing it to him.
‘What does it say?’ he asked.
‘Open it.’
I think I’m falling for you … but I’m worried you won’t be there to catch me.