least I recognise this man – I’ve seen him in my lectures and I’m pretty sure he’s a friend of Matt’s. He’s tall and broad, with brown, messy hair pointing in all directions. He’s got this cool, easy-going look about him, and he almost always has a smile on his face when I see him around campus. He isn’t smiling right now though.
‘Are you OK?’ he asks me. ‘Did he hurt you?’
‘I’m fine,’ I tell him. ‘Just shaken up. Thank you for stepping in. If you hadn’t turned up when you did …’ I feel my blood run cold.
‘But I did,’ he says. ‘And if I hadn’t, someone else would have heard you shouting. You have nothing to worry about, just take deep breaths. Do you want me to leave you alone or do you want me to stay with you for a bit?’
‘Please stay,’ I say quickly. ‘Just in case he comes back.’
‘I don’t think he’ll dare come back,’ he reassures me with a smile, playfully brandishing a fist. He does look kind of big and scary when he’s angry, but here, now, I don’t feel scared at all. I can see his softer side, and it’s going a long way to making me feel a bit more relaxed.
‘It’s OK, you can close the door,’ I tell him, noticing we’re having to raise our voices to hear each other over the noise of the party. It really is a miracle he heard me; then again, it felt like I was shouting for my life.
He does as I say, pushing my door closed before sitting down next to me, keeping just enough distance not to spook me, which I appreciate.
‘I recognise you from my course,’ I say, wiping away one of the tears that has managed to escape.
‘Yeah, I recognise you too,’ he replies. ‘Matt and I are working together on our production project – he invited me tonight.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about it, apparently anyone can get in,’ I say, furious about our non-existent door policy.
‘He wasn’t someone you knew then?’
‘No, I’ve never seen him before in my life. He isn’t a student, I think he was older,’ I reply, shuddering at the thought of some creepy older guy infiltrating student parties to prey on young women. I change the subject. ‘You’re Tom, right?’
‘That’s me,’ he says. ‘And you’re …’
‘Luca.’
You think that when you finish school you put the God-awful hierarchy of the classroom behind you, but unfortunately uni follows a similar model. On our course, Tom is the cool guy, the one everyone wants to work with, the class clown. Of course I know who Tom is, and of course he doesn’t know me.
‘I’ve seen you around – I’ve noticed your colour-changing hair. I appreciate cool hair.’
‘I can see that,’ I say, nodding towards Tom’s dark, spikey, gravity defying hair.
‘Yeah, we look like anime characters,’ he laughs.
I laugh too, but as I relax, I start to feel relief, and as the relief washes over me, I burst into tears.
‘Hey, hey,’ he says, reaching out, placing an arm around me, giving me a big, reassuring squeeze. ‘Everything is OK, I promise. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. I’ll attend all your parties from now on, how about that? I’ll wear a suit and an ear piece – the works.’
‘You’re my hero,’ I tell him. ‘You should wear a cape.’
With Tom here, I feel so safe. Not just because I’ve seen him on my course for over two years and because I know that Matt can vouch for him … I just feel like he really is looking out for me, like nothing bad can happen to me on his watch.
‘How about we sneak downstairs, grab some food, come back up here and I’ll watch whatever movie you want me to. I don’t even care if it has Matthew McConaughey in it.’
‘I’d rather watch a Scorsese flick, to be honest,’ I admit. ‘Give me a young Ray Liotta over Matthew McConaughey, any day.’
‘Whoa, OK, we didn’t agree you could be cool and have good taste,’ he jokes. ‘Smart, stylish and a cinephile. That’s a triple threat.’
I smile.
‘Right, come on, let’s go steal some pizza, and if anyone so much as looks at you in a way you don’t like, I’ll go full Joe Pesci on them.’
Now
I feel like to say this wedding has turned into a circus would be grade-A hyperbole … except I just saw an alarmingly muscular man doing press-ups on the lawn with the mother of the groom on his back. So there’s that.
I hurry over to Kat, the bride, with a book full of messages from well-wishers. I’ve done my best to get around everyone – I think I might’ve accidentally asked one of the waiters too, but he was more than happy to write something so all is well that ends well. It’s finished, I can go back to being a regular guest whose only responsibility is having a drink without making a fool of herself.
‘That’s great,’ Kat says, taking the book from me. ‘When I need something else, I’ll call on you.’
‘You’ll call on me?’ I reply weakly.
‘Yeah, I’ll call on you.’
I think the words she is looking for are ‘thank’ and ‘you’.
I pull a face to myself as I walk away, leaving her to the circle of guests that has formed around her. How have I landed myself in this mess? I know how – it’s this stupid, beautiful dress that I spent far too much money on. If I were still a goth I would’ve turned up in something black and slutty and, sure everyone would’ve asked me if I were attending a funeral (perhaps even a funeral for strippers, depending on who was making the joke) but there’s no way I would have been asked to fill in for a bridesmaid dressed like that, and there’s no way I’d be assuming boring bridesmaid duties right now – I’m not even sure they’d let me in the photos.
Tom collars me halfway across the lawn. Great. Just what I need.
‘Hey, are you ready for that catch up?’ he asks me.
‘I think we’re about to eat actually.’ I turn on my heels to walk away but Tom stops me.
‘Luca, wait,’ he starts. ‘I just …’
I turn around and glance at Tom as he runs a hand through his thick, dark hair. I notice the bulge of his bicep stretch the inside of his shirtsleeve to capacity, before immediately telling myself off for looking at him that way. He deserves no credit, at all, for anything, ever.
‘I haven’t seen you in, what, ten years? I can’t believe you’re standing here. It’s made my day seeing you here, but you just seem like …’
I shrug my shoulders casually. I can’t
