Aurelia Rowl B.

A Girl Called Malice


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A large golf umbrella emerged first, blocking most of the doorway as it opened but then it lifted skyward to reveal Zac, suited and booted with his shirt open at the collar.

       Omigod.

      Water pooled in my mouth in competition with the deepest puddles of rain, forcing me to swallow twice to clear it. I could feel my eyes bugging out at the drop-dead gorgeous guy making his way to my car. Suits were most definitely my ‘thing’ so it wasn’t like I had any control over my reaction, plus it was the first time I’d ever seen Zac dressed in something other than sportswear.

      Zac reached the car and flung the door open, triggering the cabin lights. ‘Hey, Alice.’

      ‘Hey yourself, Zac.’ In light of the facts, I immediately forgave myself for the sudden case of butterflies that fluttered in my stomach.

      He slid into the seat with his back to me, keeping the umbrella over him until both highly polished shoes were in the car. ‘I thought this might come in handy,’ he said, shaking the brolly out before stowing it between his seat and the door.

      ‘Good plan,’ I murmured, distracted by the fragrance that wafted over me as Zac pulled the door closed to seal us in. As he reached for his seatbelt, I inhaled deeply, losing myself in the woodsy scent that reminded me of the forest near where I grew up after a heavy downpour.

      How ironic considering our previous two meetings: trees and rain. Unfortunately, it did nothing to settle the now frantic flapping in my gut. Up close, his metallic grey suit complemented my silver evening dress as if we’d been planning the event for weeks. Between us, we made quite the impact and were sure to turn heads wherever we went.

      A frisson of excitement raced from my head to my toe; the anticipation building as I waited for him to notice me. ‘You ready then?’ I asked, keeping my gaze to the front.

      ‘Yep, let’s g—’ His voice cut off abruptly and I knew it was because he’d seen me for the first time.

      ‘What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?’ I lifted my leg to pop the clutch and my skirt separated, revealing a flash of leg.

      Zac gasped.

      I turned my head to look at him, desperate to see his reaction. His eyes were wide and I caught him closing his mouth as if his jaw had dropped open. It got harder and harder to hold back my ginormous grin so I allowed myself a little smirk. ‘You’re looking good, Zac.’

      ‘You too, Alice.’ He lifted his gaze to meet mine, slowly as though taking in every detail, and a range of emotions played across his face: shock, awe, even desire—which got my blood racing—before settling on something resembling pride. ‘You too.’

      ‘Thank you,’ I said, my voice filled with enough warmth and sincerity to surprise both of us so I cleared my throat and reached for the gearstick.

      We drove in silence for the first few minutes but then Zac broke the deadlock.

      ‘Do you fancy Chinese or Italian?’

      ‘Either works for me. Why don’t you choose, seeing as it’s your birthday?’

      ‘Italian it is, then.’ He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a phone. The glow reflected off the windscreen as he scrolled through the numbers before lifting his phone to ear. ‘Hi, I’d like to make a reservation for two please,’ he said, adopting a more formal voice to speak into the handset. A pause. ‘In about half an hour?’ Another pause. ‘Yes, it’s Isaac Newton.’ Say what? ‘Thanks, that’s great. Bye.’

      I pounced the instant he ended the call. ‘Isaac Newton?’

      ‘Yep, that’s my name,’ he said, pocketing his phone.

      ‘Right. So what else don’t I know about you?’

       Of all the dumb questions.

      Zac bit back a grin. ‘Oh, let’s see now… I prefer to be called Zac for obvious reasons.’ Yeah, I could hardly blame him on that one. ‘I’m twenty-two, as of today of course, and I have one older brother called Thomas. I left home at eighteen to go to university and now have a degree in Sports Psychology. I am a fully qualified lifeguard, swimming coach and personal trainer, and one day I’d like to have my own gym,’ he said, pausing to draw breath. ‘Oh and my parents expect me home for Sunday dinner at least once a month. Your turn…’

       Shit.

      I wanted to kick myself, or maybe ram the car into the nearest tree. Anything to get out of the mess I’d gotten myself into. Barely minutes into the journey and I’d gone and walked right into a self-inflicted trap like a complete moron. How could I have been so stupid?

      ‘Problem?’ Zac asked, picking up on the hitch in my breath.

      ‘No, no,’ I blurted, when really I wanted to yell ‘yes!’ My palms grew clammy and stuck to the steering wheel. I didn’t want to lie to Zac, not yet at any rate, which meant I somehow had to find a way to talk about myself without giving too much away.

      ‘OK, here goes…my name is Alice, no nicknames, at least none that I’d care to share.’ Like ‘Malice’ for instance. ‘I’m seventeen and I dropped out of college this year. Long story but as you’ve probably gathered, my home life is complicated and my family even more so—’

      Zac opened his mouth to interrupt.

      I raised my hand off the wheel to stop him. ‘However I’d rather not talk about it because I really don’t want to lie to you.’

      He closed his mouth hard enough for his teeth to clash together.

      ‘I’m a full-time waitress at a hotel,’ I continued. ‘It isn’t great and the money sucks, but the tips can be good and, seeing as I don’t have any better ideas, it’ll do for now.’ As an afterthought, I added, ‘And I’m a vegetarian.’

      Zac said nothing: no reply or comment whatsoever but I could feel his gaze boring into the side of my head. ‘Well, I’m glad we got that all clear and out of the way,’ he said eventually, presumably when he failed to lift the missing answers directly out of brain. ‘Now answer me this…’ Oh God, what now? ‘What do you think of jazz?’

       Chapter eight

      Friend

      The rest of the year flew by, especially with restaurant and function bookings on the increase thanks to work parties throughout December. Overtime was plentiful, along with generous tips, so I had the perfect excuse to be out of the house most days with the added bonus of boosting my Freedom Fund. I wasn’t missed, of course, except by Charlie.

      Based on Zac’s recommendation, I’d downloaded a jazz compilation album and it fast became one of my favourites, taking me to my happy place. I couldn’t remember when I’d last been so relaxed as that night, simply enjoying the banter, the chit-chat, the gorgeous food and the amazing music. My memories from that night out helped to keep me going through the tougher days.

      On the one day when families were supposed to come together, there was just me and the Norwegian spruce at home. Mum, Derek and Charlie had left a few days earlier to spend Mum’s birthday and the festive break with Derek’s sister. Naturally, I wasn’t invited. Not that I’d have gone. The stuck-up bitch always looked down her nose at me and made tutting sounds whenever she came to stay with us.

      Overcome with the sudden urge to hit something, I made my way upstairs. After quickly changing into a vest and shorts, I planted one punch and kick combo after another into the poor beaten-up punchbag. My music blared out loud enough to disguise my yells and my foul-mouthed curses since there were no young ears to overhear me.

      The deafening volume also covered up the sound of my crying, as tears and sweat ran in single file down my cheeks. Heart pounding and blood pumping, I stepped away from the bag and jumped on the treadmill, but my planned 5K got cut short by a buzz from the gate.