Part 1

Posted on Thursday, 24 November 2005

If Jane Austen wasn't going to kill you I didn't know what would. On the one hand I'm a nerd, a dork, a geek, a four-eyed, freckle faced, awkward mess who didn't know when to shut up and had the uncanny knack of killing conversations. On the other I was obsessed with Pride and Prejudice and even though I had convinced myself I would eventually, god-willing and on a good hair day, meet my Darcy, I knew in reality that I wouldn't. See, while most girls are committed to being Elizabeth Bennet, being the realist that I am, I came to the conclusion that I was Mary. I'm not feeling sorry for myself, nay, I just stopped deluding myself in to believing I was someone who was loveable even with her faults, or witty and tolerable enough to capture the attention of one who personified an orgasm.

Instead all I could do was read Harlequin novels clandestinely those Friday and Saturday nights when every other desirable female was out prowling the streets or in the throes of passion with a mysterious, tall, dark and handsome stranger like two lions mating in the hot Serengeti night, clawing at each other with a desperate, unquenchable passion . . . I read too much romance for my own good. My fantasy came to a grinding halt by the incessant ringing of my phone on my bedside table, I set Love on the High Seas on my bed and pushed away my box of half-eaten Krispy Kremes to answer the call.

"Hello."

"Laura it's Carmen, how's my favourite cock-stopper in the whole wide world?"

I rolled my eyes.

Carmen D'Angelo: Blonde bombshell, Angelina Jolie's pout and the grace and beauty of a swan wearing Prada."

Carmen was my best friend since we were nine. We used to be obsessed with pulling down the pants of unsuspecting male fourth graders to check out what underwear they were wearing, in a secret hope that they weren't wearing any at all. How times have changed, I haven't seen male underwear in a substantial amount of time.

"I'm fine Carmen, what can I do for you at ten-thirty at night?"

"We just got in to Club D and people miss you, some have forgotten what you look like you hermit. Come on, the bouncer's put you on the list it's a block away from our flat."

"'I'd rather not Carmen, I mean, I'm doing something important." I looked to my beloved Harlequin sitting on the bed waiting for me.

"Oh stop it. I know you're in your bed wearing those damned yellow duck pyjamas, eating Krispy Kremes and reading some random romance."

I looked towards my book, my doughnuts, and myself as she spoke wondering how exactly she knew what I was doing. "No I'm not."

"And if you weren't you'd be watching 'When Harry Met Sally'. Come on Laura, make an appearance."

"I have no desire to be groped in a cramped neon club in a hope to be romanced by some undeserving stranger in the game that we call the twenty-something mating ritual. I am a young, intelligent university student and so above the trivialities that are the human hormones."

I was lying through my teeth of course, but I had long played the role of the 'cock-stopper' in the group. Whilst I had resigned myself to the fact that romance was dead, some part of me clung on to the hope, albeit small, of a Prince Charming to sweep me off my feet, be it Darcy or a Disney concoction of testosterone.

"Did you prepare that? Because if you did then I know you need to get out."

I rolled my eyes. I hated persistence and unfortunately Carmen had an unlimited supply. "No Carmen I'm not coming out. So go and make merry and I'll probably be still awake when you get back."

With that I hung up unceremoniously and got back to Captain Swann and his rock hard, sun kissed abs glistening with perspiration. But just as I had settled, my concentration was broken by the gnarling sound of Metallica through the wall, which could only mean that my next door neighbour Mr. James 'I've got it goin' on' Sinclair was in for a night of "marathon-ing" as he puts it so ungraciously. I attempted to ignore the blast though found I couldn't concentrate so I began to pound on the wall telling him to shut up, alas to no avail. I got one of my shoes and began to pound on the wall with it, there was a sizeable dent from all the previous times that I banged on the wall with whatever unsuspecting shoes happened to be on hand. When that didn't work I got out of bed in my yellow duck pyjamas and bounded out in to the hall of the floor we shared our flats and knocked with both fists on his front door. I didn't stop until I heard the music subside and the door fly open.

"God damn it Laura what is it?"

I didn't know what it was about James Sinclair but he had the annoying habit of walking around with a pole up his ass whilst he flexed his toned arms at every given moment. I knew for a fact that he must've looked at himself in the mirror for hours on end as he worked out. And I knew that he worked out as I refused to believe that his biceps were god-given. Other than that James Sinclair was an arrogant cad who sat on his ass and partied whilst his parents paid for his tuition. I couldn't handle how arrogant and self-loving he was. It was as if he had had an overdose of Oprah-isms on leading a constructive life through loving first yourself before others.

I pushed my glasses up my nose and looked up at him. He was much taller than the midget that was my five foot three inch self and I hated that he had the advantage of looking down on me. "I was trying to study and I couldn't hear myself think with that shit you call music. I'd prefer not to know that you're humping your brains out as I read up on the meta-language of interpersonal meanings."

James rolled his eyes. He was conveniently dressed in only a pair of boxer shorts as he leant on the doorframe posing like the Calvin Klein model that he thought he was. "So you'd rather listen to the groans of the mutual pleasure of me and my lady friend over Enter the Sandman?"

I pushed my glasses back up my nose as I glared at him irritated. I have a very good glare my friends have told me. "God no, but I'm sure you could keep the whimpers and moans to a minimum, besides I hardly consider Metallica mood music. So turn your music down or listen to Bach then it might work for the both of us, or else I'm bringing it up with Strata."

He was grinning down at me. He had an infuriating way of making me feel like a little kid. "I didn't know that Bach was your music of choice."

"Don't start with me James."

He straightened up. "What exactly am I starting Laura? I think it was you that started this and interrupted me."

"No, I believe it was you who interrupted me. Carmen and I are sick of it."

"Speaking of which, where is that delightfully attractive roommate of yours?"

I rolled my eyes and told him pleasantly, "Look, I'm asking you politely to turn the music down or go to hell." I smiled charmingly.

He grinned again. "Hey for you Laura, anything."

"That was all you had to say. Now just follow through with it."

He was about to say something else when a Mischa Barton look-alike stepped out in to the living room behind him putting on her sequined singlet and buttoning up her jeans, carrying her heels in her hand. "Look James if I had known you'd rather flirt with your neighbour then I wouldn't of bothered. I'm out of here."

I suddenly felt very out of place and unattractive in my duck pyjamas and my hair up in a haphazard ponytail. James turned to the girl and watched her as she walked in between us at his front door. James looked down the hall after her figure then down at me, then back down the hall, and down at me again.

"We're not finished Laura." With that he ran after her calling out, "Baby, come on, she's just a nerd from next door who never gets any."

I could've been hurt by his comment but I wasn't, instead I felt rather triumphant. With a smile I returned to my flat, Captain Swann and some tasty original glazed. I loved it when I got my way.

Part 1, Continued

Posted on : Monday, 28 November 2005

The smell of bacon and eggs being freshly cooked wafted under my door to my nostrils to remind me that my darling flat mate was one of those spawns of Satan that people like myself so deeply despised - a "morning person". I didn't understand how Carmen could stay out late nearly every night and still be so fresh in the morning sans the puffy eye bags that she should have. But Carmen was a freak of nature, the beautiful kind, and the envy of any sane, straight woman including the odd homosexual or two. She was bound to make someone a great Stepford wife once she was married. But that's just the jealousy in me talking, Carmen was great and nice, very plain Jane however "plain" wouldn't be the right adjective to describe her, instead "drop dead gorgeous" would be much more fitting. The sizzling got too enticing for me and food was the only thing that could get me out of bed. I put my glasses on and looked to the bright, neon lights of my alarm clock and groaned. It was nine o'clock in the morning, and on a Saturday that was what I considered an "early start".

I walked out to the kitchen and sat at the bench top whilst Carmen cooked and cheerfully whistled to herself. Now Carmen was always in a good mood, but whistling meant she was in an extra good mood and when Carmen was in an extra good mood and whistling it could only mean one thing.

"Who's the guy you met?"

She turned from the stove with one of her Ms. Universe smiles and asked, "scrambled?"

I shook my head. "Sunny side up, so are you going to tell me?"

She kept smiling and continued to cook ignoring me.

"Carmen. You're not going to make me beg are you? You know very well that I live vicariously through yours and the girls' exploits because I have no life."

She turned from the pan and waved the spatula at me. "You have no life because you choose not to, so don't complain. If you decided to get off your ass and come last night like I asked then you'd know who the guys is. But you didn't, so now you have to wait until I finish these eggs."

I was about to say something else when I heard a knock at the door. "You're telling me when I get back." I told her back as I made my way to the door.

"What do you want?"

James was standing at the door in striped pyjama bottoms and a grey shirt. "You messed up my plans last night so you owe me breakfast." He sniffed the air and smiled. "And it just so happens I could smell the delicious aroma from next door. Excuse me." He walked straight past me and bid good morning to Carmen.

"Yeah sure, come in you're so welcome in our flat." I told the empty space that he had previously occupied and shut the door.

Carmen turned from the stove just as James and I had sat at the bench top. "Morning James, how do you like your eggs?"

"Fertilized."

I rolled my eyes and slapped him on the underside of his head. "Is it within your capacity to be normal?"

"You love me," He grinned. "End of story." He turned to Carmen not exactly being discreet in checking out her long legs in her short shorts. "How are those eggs coming along?"

She turned with a plate in each hand and placed them in front of us. "Done and done."

I munched on my bacon and watched Carmen place her bacon and eggs on her own plate and sit down in front of us at the bench.

"So are you going to tell me now?"

"Tell you what?" James asked with a mouthful of egg.

"It's customary to swallow before speaking." I told him just a little disgusted with the sight of his mouth.

James shrugged and nudged me with his elbow as he continued to eat. I turned to Carmen and expected my story. "Well?"

Carmen got that stupid smile on her face again and delicately wiped her mouth with a napkin. "Well, last night at Club D we met some guys."

James nodded thoughtfully. "Like, straight ones?"

"Like, decent ones." Carmen rolled her eyes and turned back to me. "Basically I'm smitten Laura and he's just so great and loveable and he's in the same year law as Lisa, and he's just great and stuff and stuff. Did I mention great?"

I quirked my brow and pushed my glasses up my nose. "What's stuff and stuff? And how can you be smitten with a guy you've only just met?"

Carmen shrugged prettily and smiled, she seemed to be doing a lot of that and it was unnerving me. I didn't smile much because it made me look weird. "Oh you know . . . he's just this bumbling fool you know? And I love fools." She grinned again and ate bacon.

So Carmen was in love, or so it seemed. I didn't know what love was and I didn't think that love was tangible nor did it manifest itself in to some "fool" as Carmen had thought it did. But I was getting ahead of myself.

"So this guy, he goes to USYD as well." James asked. "Look at that I swallowed first happy?"

I nodded and got back to eating bacon.

"Yeah."

"What school?"

"I forget, one of the GPS ones."

James thought for a while. "What's his name? I bet you I know him. I know all those GPS turds."

If there was only one thing that I liked about James it was that he knew where he came from. And while he didn't apologise for being fed with a silver spoon growing up, he was always the first to point out the hypocrisies of the fabulously wealthy. Of course he always made it his mission to point out that I had no "pedigree" and he had adopted the role of rebellious rich kid with such finesse I couldn't help but wonder if that was all just a façade to "hook in the ladies", as he would say.

"Kevin Bentleigh-Reeves." Carmen laughed.

"Eew Carmen he's a hyphen." I scrunched up my face in distaste.

"Wait, wait, Kevin Bentleigh-Reeves?" James repeated.

Carmen nodded. "Why?"

"I know that b*****d." James laughed. "He went to school with me. How did he rope in a hottie like you? He was such a loser in school. He's a good guy though, very nice guy."

"Then you'd know his friend, Stephen."

James furrowed his forehead obviously not comprehending.

"Northbrook, Stephen William Northbrook."

James was obviously processing as he ran the name through his head. Finally after a few seconds he snapped his fingers and pointed at Carmen. "Short skinny kid with dark hair. He looks like he's eternally constipated?"

Carmen laughed. "No this guy was tall and very good-looking you know, not skinny, nicely cut. But he did have dark hair and he did look eternally constipated. Very broody."

"I don't know but if it's the same Stephen Northbrook that I'm thinking of then I know that guy, or rather I knew him. He went to the same school as Kevin and I until the middle of the ninth grade before he transferred to Le Rosey in Switzerland or something."

Carmen nodded. "Wow, small world."

"Small world indeed." I muttered just a little cynical at anyone with a hyphenated name. It was a pet peeve of mine. Hyphenated names always equated wealth, prestige and Polo of the horse variety.

There was a silence as we ate our respective breakfasts sinking to our own thoughts, Carmen to her Kevin, James to his unstoppable libido and me to, well, something other than the chocolate ice cream I had a date with that night. I mean, you can't help but be just a tad disillusioned with romance when no guy seems to understand the significance of ice cream. I was a closet romantic and all I wanted was someone to share a tub of ice cream with as we walked around Darling Harbour; without having to worry about the unattractive inferiority complex I had when I hung out with my darling friends. Carmen was beautiful and utterly perfect, Lisa was witty with a pair of the prettiest eyes, and Steph was "fun" and brazenly confident around the male species, then there was little old me who tagged along in my glasses. I was much too short for the girls, especially when they were wearing heels, whereas I couldn't even walk in them.

". . . So tonight we decided we'd go and eat out at that Thai place in Newtown and you're coming." I hadn't realised that they had begun to talk again and I had completely tuned out.

"Sorry Carmen what was that?"

"I said that we're going out to dinner with the boys tonight and you're going to make an appearance and have lots of fun getting to know them capiche?"

"Nah-uh Carmen, no comprendé. I'm not going to help facilitate that boy's intention of bedding you. No way."

"James can you please tell my anti-social friend to come out tonight."

I cut James off before he spoke because I didn't want to hear a litany of all the ways in which I was awkward. "I can't help it if I'm a social pariah Carmen."

"You're not, you only make yourself out to be. You need fresh oxygen and outside has a lot of it."

I snorted unattractively. "Oxygen is overrated."

"I thought that your purpose for this evening was to get to know these guys." James butted in.

"It is."

"Well isn't that a little difficult if you bring her. You might just scare them away."

I hit him on the underside of the head twice, the first for taking a jab at me, and the second because I felt like it. "Can you just stop being a jerk for a moment, are you capable of that?"

James merely shrugged and stood up and stretched. "Far be it from me for you to stop being a freak, but I've got to be on my way. Thank-you for the breakfast ladies and I'll be seeing you tonight."

"Tonight?" Carmen and I asked in unison.

James nodded and grinned. "I have nothing else to do and, well, someone's got to make sure Laura doesn't do anything stupid, you know, like open her mouth to speak."

I rolled my eyes and had the urge to hit him on the underside of the head again. James had always wanted Carmen, what red-blooded male wouldn't? And I knew that the reason for his decision to accompany us tonight was to size up his opposition. The fact of the matter was that Carmen was a model without a catwalk. It was easy to hate her yet she was so sickeningly sweet, that all you could do was like her. Seriously, it was ridiculous how perfect that girl was.

There are many instances in which I wished a black hole would suddenly appear beneath me and swallow me up. I'm not quite sure where I want said black hole to dispose of me, but King Arthur's Court seems to be a popular choice for those Disney movies shown on Sunday afternoons. This instance for example, meeting new people, was one of those times that I'd rather be anywhere but there. We were sitting in the Thai restaurant waiting for our orders. The whole set up seemed a little awkward to me, but then again it would as James had dubbed me "The Master of Awkward" and enjoyed reminding me of this painful fact. To my right was Carmen and next to her was the object of her affection, Kevin Bentleigh-Reeves. They were making eyes at each other and Mr. Bentleigh-Reeves seemed to be enamored with my dear friend. In front of the pair was James not so subtly interfering with the duo as he ostensibly "caught up" with his former schoolmate; though he was really attempting to get in to Carmen's good graces. Next to James was Stephen Northbrook also watching the pair with a furrowed expression. He was tall, dark and handsome - the stereotypical hero, so Heathcliffe and so very Darcy-esque.

"The concept of a smile is foreign to our good friend Mr. Northbrook. I daresay that anything to do with lips quirking in an upward manner would strain the muscles in his face. It's too much effort you see and Mr. Northbrook does not enjoy exerting much effort as he does not wish to soil himself in the process."

I turned to the whispered commentary to my left ear and saw Lisa grinning.

Lisa Carter: Smiles like irony, possessor of chocolate mint eyes, has the observation and wit of Jane Austen.

"I didn't know you took to speaking like a Regency author," I whispered back.

She just smiled that implacable smile she had and shrugged nonchalantly. Lisa Carter was not "beautiful" in the strictest sense of the word, but she was darkly pretty and had a charm that was endearing. She was also a "half-caste" as she called herself, the product of Japanese and Scottish-Australian blood and so had enviable features. She did law at the same university I was doing my "nothing degree" at, for the uninitiated that's an Arts degree, and while we lost all the guys we met to Carmen, I think it was only because Lisa's intelligence intimidated them.

"An astute observation must be said in stark candor my silent friend."

"You know why I'm silent."

"No I don't, so please enlighten me."

"Well, you know me being socially inept. I'd much rather keep quiet then say something that will kill this evening's pleasant mood."

Lisa laughed. "You're not really as awkward as you think you are."

"Let me remind you that the first time I met these fine gentlemen earlier this evening I couldn't even stick out my hand to greet them."

Lisa laughed again but her attention was caught by something and I looked over to see that Stephen was watching her with dark eyes. I regarded this curiously. Interesting. Very interesting indeed. I turned back to Lisa who merely shrugged it off. I was about to make a comment on what I had witnessed only to be interrupted by the waiter arriving with our food. Even though I hardly spoke in situations such as the one I was in at that moment it had only made me an observer, a very good one. I was quite perceptive even if I do commend myself. And it was about the only thing I could be assured I wouldn't mess up or misconstrue. I was halfway through my red curry just absently listening to the conversations around me when Little Ms. Flirt herself addressed a question at me.

Stephanie Lopez a.k.a. "S-Lo" - pronounced "slow": Flirty, Cosmo magazine aficionado, the university's resident proverbial "bike" . . . but loveable nonetheless.

"You used to play field hockey, what did you do about your glasses?"

I pushed my glasses up my nose and answered. "I took them off, I wore contacts."

The guy sitting next to her was another friend of hyphenated Kevin's, David. A good-looking sort with a casual swagger and enough of a glint in his eye to suggest that he was up to no good. Steph seemed to have struck up a rapport with this David chap and I couldn't help but surmise it was their mutual love of promiscuity that drew them together.

"So was your goalie the really ugly one who they had to hide behind the gear?" David laughed, "That's always the case isn't it?"

I shrugged and took a sip of my Coke. "I was the goalie."

I saw James peripherally attempting to hide his amusement and was convulsing in the corner whiles everyone waited to see how David would save the first impression he'd made on me.

"Well then, I guess I stand corrected," he said smoothly with a wink in my direction. I didn't know how to respond. The truth was it made me just a little wary of him. There was something about him that didn't sit easy with me and his apparent smoothness underlined that fact. No one can be that smooth. I didn't like smooth people especially smooth boys. Smooth and boys shouldn't go together. I didn't know whether it was because I equated smoothness with a cocky "I'm to sexy for my shirt" attitude or whether it was because I've never been addressed in such a way that I would constitute as "smooth". Either way David was someone I was keeping an eye on.

"Yeah, well, going to an all-girl school and being the anti-male goalie of the field hockey team, everyone thought I was a lesbian."

I heard James snort and he drank some water to hide the hilarity of how much I had killed the conversation. Everyone around the table just looked at me and nodded slowly. I slapped myself mentally. I should've just left it, but no, Queen Awkward had to contribute something that would kill the conversation. I was so hoping that the black hole would hurry up and open beneath me. There was an awkward pause and Lisa ever the quick thinker merely nudged me.

"Yeah, well the presence of your fem-nazi law friend mustn't help that image much huh."

I shook my head. "Not at all."

Everyone resumed their respective chatter as Lisa began telling me about some random cutie in her lecture. All that time of course, I watched Stephen - from the corner of my eye - watch Lisa. Interesting indeed.

Later that night as we were walking towards Broadway that connected to George St from Newtown, I decided to extract the information I had been so desperate to ask at Thai. Even though I didn't make it a duty to go out with them the previous night, it was true what I told Carmen, how I lived vicariously through my friends, so much so that I morphed in to such a big gossip whore.

"So just because I want to know, are you going to tell me why you've decided to ignore that Stephen fellow even with his amorous and sultry glances your way."

She laughed long and hard. "You might've gotten the amorous and sultry glances confused with Kevin's towards Carmen."

"Oh no, I'm not mistaken. Are you gonna tell me or what? I thrive on this sort of thing, you know I do."

Lisa shrugged and looped her arm through mine as we walked behind the couples; Kevin and Carmen, David and Steph and Stephen and James, although it looked like James was doing the speaking for both Stephen and himself. Lisa sighed and looked up to Stephen and James in front of us before she began to talk.

"I mean look at the guy, he's gorgeous."

"I'd think you'd be flattered to get the attention of an incarnation of Darcy. So I'm struggling to make a connection between how good-looking he is and why you dislike him."

"No see it's funny you should bring Darcy up."

"Why?"

"Well at Club D last night, let's just say that what he said wasn't so flattering."

"Please tell the story from the beginning."

"Basically, Carmen came back from the dance floor with Kevin in tow, apparently he had asked her to dance as she was coming back from the bathroom in that adorable puppy dog way he has and so after they danced Carmen came over to introduce him to us, and Tweedledum in front of us is never far from Tweedledee. So anyway we spent the night with them and I went to the courtyard to get some air and while I was there I could hear voices over the hedges, anyway it was those two talking. Kevin was going on about how much he thought he was in love with Carmen and he was egging Stephen to hook up with me or something."

I nodded, I was enthralled, this was definitely much more interesting than my neighbor's tiff with James.

"And then when I was all happy for Carmen and about to stop eavesdropping I heard Stephen tell Kevin that he was tired, he wanted to go home and it was unfair anyway 'cause he got first pick and he didn't want leftovers."

"Oh dear."

Lisa nodded. "I believe his exact words were, 'Just because you got the chocolate cake it doesn't mean I'm happy to settle for two day old take out."

"Did you knock his block off?"

Lisa laughed. "No, what could I do? So I'm over it. I'm still civil to him, for Carmen's sake anyway."

"But you've also got a grudge. This can't be good."

"Why can't it be good?"

"Because comrade, he doesn't know what he's missing out on."

Part 2

Posted on Wednesday, 7 December 2005

"What's the deal with university students and their eternal love affair with nicotine and caffeine?" Lisa asked me as we walked pass another flock of students either with a Styrofoam cup on hand or a cigarette wedged between their fingers. I looked down to the Styrofoam cup in my own hand and gently lowered it without first taking a surreptitious sip of the warm liquid. Lisa only laughed and took out a bottle of water and held it up to my face. "See this? This is pure, it's good for your skin, good for your health and doesn't go straight to your thighs."

"Coffee doesn't go straight to your thighs."

"According to B it does."

I shook my head as we continued to walk towards our English lecture. "Since when did you live your life according to trashy women's magazines? I thought that was Steph's forte."

Lisa shrugged. "I'm just saying. I've decided to take a much more constructive approach to life. I'll watch what I eat, I'll do my readings for tutes and start my assignments at least a week before they're due rather than the day before, and above all I won't let passing comments of beautiful assholes to hinder the way in which I look at myself."

"So this is a Stephen inspired change, interesting. Interesting also, that you describe him as beautiful."

"I may be pissed off but I'm not blind. But I have too much pride to dwell on any matter that should be purely inconsequential."

"Is that the assertive lawyer in you speaking or the bruised ego?"

"A little from column A, a little from column B," she grinned. "Anyway," she continued, "he was very civilised to me the last time we went out. He still didn't crack a smile or say anything that was beyond monosyllabic but hey, for the sake of our friends' happiness, right?"

I nodded. It had been about a week since Thai and I didn't have the compulsion to hang out with them being so couple-y. Contrary to Lisa's belief I would indeed be the seventh wheel. They had gone and hung out at Rucker's, the six of them one night after uni for bingo. Needless to say I spent that night tucked up in bed with a spunky cowboy named Rafe Rutherford and a tub of cookies 'n' cream courtesy of the good people at Baskins and Robbins. Being an English major my intent was to do a writing course post-grad. All I really wanted to be was a writer, and I had it in mind that I'd become an old spinster writing romance smut until my wrinkly breasts reached my knees. Of course I was getting ahead of myself, I was only twenty at the moment and finishing my second year. I still had a long way ahead of me until that time, but still, I was well on my way.

We arrived at the lecture theatre late, as usual, yet just before we walked in James seemed to have suddenly materialised in front of us. "Hey girls I need to ask a favour."

I knew what James was going to ask and I had it in mind not to oblige. "No James, we will not take down notes for you just so you can go shag a random that you've just met."

"Naturally you would be correct with that assumption," James told me, "but the truth of my predicament at the moment is that the parentals have summoned me to their lair and I can't make it to English. Please kind lady, photocopy your notes for me." He made this stupid puppy dog face that probably worked on unsuspecting females, though not me. "Please, I'd be ever so grateful."

"Fine, but no more Metallica."

"Why the imposition of such harsh punishment, surely you jest?"

"Surely I don't. So do we have a deal?"

He screwed up his face and turned to Lisa for support, yet she only nodded. "She makes good notes, so if I were you James I would accept."

He looked between us and dramatically sighed. "If that be so, then I believe I accept on your terms."

"Good," I grinned.

"But know this," he addressed me as he walked away backwards, "You may have won this battle, yet you can never take away my freedom!" He emphasised his declaration with a fist in the air.

I shook my head as we watched him walk away.

"I think he's the only person I know who can say stuff like that and get away with it." Lisa turned to me and grinned, "It's kinda cute actually."

I turned to my deluded friend incredulously and shook my head. "What planet are you from?" Then I turned and walked inside the lecture hall just a little disturbed, that my otherwise level headed companion had made such an alarmingly off-base observation of Mr. James Sinclair.

"How much do I love thee? Let me count the ways!"

I rolled my eyes. I was quite reliable - even if I say so myself - and James was a lucky b*****d that I liked to do a good job on the things that I took upon myself to do. He was standing at my door with a bunch of daisies he obviously stole from a garden and wrapped it in butcher's paper offering them to me, which I took politely. He may grate on my nerves but I was always well mannered and never rebuffed daisies. Daisies were my favourite flowers. Lucky guess.

"Stop being so melodramatic."

He was standing at the door still scanning over my notes. "How much do I owe you?" He asked, referring to the photocopying fee.

"Well, it was 20 cents a copy and there are five pages there so that's a dollar, plus the time it took me to go all the way to Fisher to copy my notes, that's another 2 dollars and the effort of walking across campus to get to my bus stop for which I would've been there for if not for the notes, is another 2 dollars. So all in all, that's five bucks."

He looked up at me. "I can't afford that."

"Oh spare me the rich boy attempting to make it by on his own act, I know very well that you can just dip in to your account and get the money."

"Truly," he told me. "I'm a poor man."

I only looked at him expectedly with my hand out waiting for the bill.

"No seriously. I actually have to look for a job and earn my own money. I'm in the sh-t Laura you don't understand."

"I don't really have the energy to care. I can pretend to but I'd rather spare us both the masquerade."

He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "As in really Laura, all I have at the moment is the ten bucks in my wallet and whatever I've got in the flat. I have no access to my credit account, I have nothing in my savings account and my rent's due in a week. Not to mention I can't move back home."

He appeared to be really frazzled and I wondered if this was his way of weaselling out of coughing up a measly five bucks. "What's up?"

"Can I come in?" He asked though he walked in anyway without my reponse.

"You really have to stop inviting yourself in to people's homes you know," I told him as I shut the door.

He didn't look as if he had heard me as he paced in front of the couch before sitting down. "I'm in a bind Laura I really am."

I walked over to him and sat down. "I expect that you're going to tell me regardless of what I say so, please James, indulge me."

He was twisting the notes I gave him in his hand and looked straight ahead. "Basically the parentals are not happy with me."

His previous jovial mood was replaced by one of actual fear. Now I had never seen James in fear, it was a foreign expression on his face. In fact he actually looked quite pensive - deliberating in anticipation - and I never took James as one who actually, well, thought. His manner piqued my curiosity. And curiosity's a dangerous thing.

"So what's the deal?"

He turned to me. "I've been cut off from my allowance and I no longer have access to my credit card, it's been cancelled. My folks are also stopping the rent they've been paying in advance."

"Why'd they do all that for?"

He shrugged. "They said I've been disappointing and I haven't been trying hard enough. They're just very not happy with me, they said all my grades have slipped and they aren't happy with the rumours about me and my plethora of babes."

"But those aren't rumours," I muttered.

"Anyway they said I'm too dependent on them and they need to teach me responsibility. I have to get a job, earn my own money, pull my grades up and prove to them that I can be a stable, functioning human in today's society." He emphasised stable, functioning human in today's society with finger quotation marks and so I imagined that was what they had told him.

"Can't you dip in to your trust fund?"

He shook his head. "I don't get access to that until I turn 21, and even then they've withheld it from me unless I can prove to be self-reliant and all that jazz. I mean, who can do all that and still be normal? Seriously?"

"Well, for one, me."

He looked at me and began to laugh. "I'm sorry but I really don't constitute you as normal."

"Oh ha, ha, you're quite the comedian. I can't say I feel sorry for you. It serves you right."

"Ouch, that was cruel."

"No it's the truth. Maybe if you stopped being a jerk. I mean haven't you figured out that you actually have to pass because your parents are paying full fees for you to go to USYD. Let's be honest, it's not exactly cheap. Keeping you alive I would imagine, isn't exactly cheap."

"I don't need you to repeat what was said to me this afternoon, it wasn't a very pleasant experience. I'm well aware I've morphed in to the very thing I despise."

"What's that?"

"Everything handed to me on a silver platter. I won't lie, I quite like this lifestyle but I won't be able to survive on my own. And god, I haven't even read anything I'm meant to be reading for this semester. I am so screwed."

"Yes you are."

"Thanks for your reassurance."

"That's what I'm here for."

There was a silence as he buried his head in his arms bent over on the couch. "What the hell am I gonna do to get my money back?"

"Find a job and pull up your grades I believe were the requirements of your parents."

"I don't even have any work experience. Not to mention I can't shag whomever I want now. I sort of told them I was going out with a reliable, stable girlfriend to get them off my back about those rumours. Where am I going to find a girlfriend to parade in front of them? Not to mention I have to be monogamous. It's so difficult."

"The monogamy?"

"No, the stable girlfriend part . . . although that'll prove quite a task as well."

"I'm sure you can open up your little black book and look up one of your minions."

"No, my parents want someone with at least a distinction average, at least I told them phantom girlfriend had a distinction average."

I couldn't help but laugh at his admittance to only sleeping with bimbos. Just then the door opened and Carmen walked in perfect as always. "Hello you two."

James flashed her a charming grin. "Good afternoon Carmen."

I rolled my eyes.

"Hello James," she grinned, well aware of the fact James had a not so subtle crush on her.

"Anyway can't talk, have to get ready."

"Where are you going?" I asked her still sitting on the couch.

"Kevin's asked me out tonight so I have to start beautifying."

"You don't need it." James chimed in and she only laughed before disappearing in to her room.

"You're so obvious it's pathetic," I told him.

He only shrugged still with his silly grin, before it faltered as he remembered his predicament. "I'm a survivor and a problem solver and a thinker. I'm a damn good thinker."

"That's nice James. No really it is but can you get out of my flat now I have to get some reading done before I go to work."

James stood up still in deep thought. "Where do you work again?"

"I do room service at the Wellington," I told him as I shuffled him towards the door.

"Do they need people?"

"Yes, but I'm not referring you."

When we got to the door I opened it wide open for him to walk through and out of the flat. He made his exit, but just before he left he turned around and looked at me pointedly. "Wellington down Richmond St.?"

"Maybe." Then before he could answer I shut the door in his face and went to take a shower.

Working at a hotel wasn't really as glamorous as Maid in Manhattan made it out to be. Not to mention there was a slim to none chance that I'd meet a young, up and coming Senator and we'd fall madly in love like the highly improbable Cinderella story it is. It was nice to hope but I was too frumpy to be noticed especially as it was a rule to try and blend in with the walls and disregard anything and everything that was out of the ordinary, such as the Premier's wife caught in the act with the bellboy . . . but you didn't hear it from me. When I wasn't delivering room service I was in the kitchen with the kitchen hands and waiters polishing the silverware. The job wasn't bad though, and I had to admit the hotel had a certain buzz and energy that I couldn't find anywhere else except for probably an airport.

"Laura can you get your ass to level 21 and service rooms 7, 13, 15 and 20."

I looked up to my manager, a balding forty-something who had worked his way up the hotel chain of command yet probably wouldn't ascend any further. "I'm there," I mumbled and stood up to go to my trolley waiting for me at the staff elevator.

I pushed the awaiting trolley through the metal doors and pressed the button that would take me to level 21. I looked at myself in the reflection of the elevator. The staff elevator was different to the guests' one, ours was just metal, no wooden panelling or ornate fixtures and red, plush carpet; instead our elevator was industrial. I frowned at my reflection. I really could do nothing about my face. It was set in place. And don't get me started on my blemishes. I kept telling myself that Cameron Diaz had bad skin and she was a supermodel and actress extraordinaire. On the flipside the rational part of my brain also told me that she was gorgeous and not vertically challenged. I pushed my glasses up my nose and attempted to fix my French braid and keep the stray strands of hair pinned back to abide with the hotel neat and presentable policy. I fixed my black vest and tie and made sure everything was in place just in time to reach my destination. Then I pushed my trolley out on the floor and got on with my job. At my last stop I pocketed the tips I had accumulated on the one round - $45, and began to make my way back down to the kitchens. And for the second time that day, James suddenly materialised out of nowhere in front of me.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

It was close to 8.30 at night and James looked lost. "Well, I'm here to get a job and I was asking around as to where you were and look at that I found you."

"I told you that I wouldn't refer you," I told him as I began to make my way to the staff elevator with my trolley.

James nodded and grinned as he walked with me. "See, that's the beauty of it, it turns out my dad knows one of the head people here and he recognised my last name. Meet the new bellboy."

I stopped. "What? I can't believe he just gave you the job."

"Oh the power of connections my dear."

"And I can't believe you got given front office duty. That sucks, I've been trying to get receptionist."

He shrugged. "They need good-looking people to greet them, you do realise that don't you. They don't want to scare the guests."

"You know that joke is getting old. Think of something else to insult me with, I've developed a tolerance for that comment."

"Oh but I speak the truth. Anyway, so it looks like we'll be work buddies now, buddy." He nudged me on the shoulder. "What says you nerd?"

We arrived at the staff elevator and I stopped and turned to look at him. "I can't get away from you can I? You're at home, at uni, and now you're at work. Is there not a place I can retreat to without your incessant torment?"

James thought for a moment before replying, "No."

I was about to say something else when I was interrupted.

"James?"

We both turned to face a well dressed, middle-aged couple staring at us.

"Mum? Dad?"

I looked towards the pair and James and made the connection, Mum? Dad?.

"What are you doing here?" He continued.

"Your mother and I are visiting some friends. We're going to take them out. What are you doing here?" The older man asked.

"I got a job."

"Here?"

James nodded proudly. "I'm the new bellboy."

The older pair nodded again, whilst I watched silently. "And what were you doing here with this young lady? It sounded like you were having a fight." Mrs. Sinclair said, "Is everything alright?"

Before I could speak James butted in. "Oh we weren't, I was just telling her the good news about how we would be working together."

The elder Mr. Sinclair nodded and looked to me. "I don't believe we've met," then he directed the next question to his son, "James are you going to introduce us?"

James looked to his parents then back at me, then back to his parents and back to me, then finally he settled on his parents. I could see the gears turning in his head. It was obvious he had no intention of introducing the freak to his folks, as I was not blessed with being a product of the right gene pool. "Mum, dad I'd like you to meet Laura Harper," he said. I was about to greet them when out of nowhere he took me by my waist and pulled me towards him and continued, "my girlfriend."

I looked up at him in proverbial "shock horror" . . . Girlfriend?!