Pretty Falling Pieces by Isabelle Culpo

Chapter Eight

“Where have you two been?” Jess asks, munching on a mouth full of bacon.

“I went for a walk and Theo was out for a run. We saw each other on our way back.”

Her eyes dart between the two of us. “Oh…okay. That’s nice.”

I can practically see the cogs turning over in her brain.

Hopefully, when I get a chance to tell her in private that Theo is already interested in someone, she’ll get off my case and stop trying to play matchmaker.

I wash my hands then start dicing some fresh strawberries and watermelon to go with breakfast. I prefer having something light in the mornings. Okay, something sweet, but fruit is healthy, so it’s okay.

Theo sets the table outside, clearing the dozens of empty beer bottles, when Trent appears from the master bedroom looking puffy and half asleep.

We return to the table outside and Jess and I lay out the cooked breakfast and fruit salad.

“The waves look pretty decent; are you keen to go for a surf after this?” Trent asks Theo.

“Yeah, I’m in,” Theo replies, then directs his question at Jess and I, “What about you guys?”

Trent scoffs, “Ha! Nothing will get Jess out on the water, believe me, I’ve tried. She’s not interested in any sort of physical activity outside the bedroom. Isn’t that right, babe?”

Jess throws a cherry tomato from her plate at him, which he deftly catches in his mouth.

“I don’t know how to surf either,” I admit. The last time I tried, the board could barely stay afloat. Instead of the wave carrying me, I seemed to sink back down in the water. My attempts proved to be quite the entertainment to the spectators on the beach though.

“I could teach you,” Theo offers.

And have him watch me fumble with the board and try to stand up?No, thank you.

One day I’ll try surfing again but today’s definitely not it.

“I think I’m just going to lay by the beach and swim. Maybe some other time though.” Even though I have no plans of ever letting Theo see me learning to surf, I can’t flat out refuse his offer.

“Sounds good.” He stands up and starts collecting everyone’s plate then takes them to the kitchen to start washing up.

“Why can’t you ever show some initiative and do that?” Jess complains, seizing the opportunity to get back at Trent for embarrassing her before. “I always have to ask you a thousand times to clean up after yourself before you eventually do it.”

“What are you talking about? I help out more than most men would,” Trent argues.

“Most men? What the fuck does that mean? Are you saying there’s a difference between how much men and women should help out?” she says.

I’ve known Jess long enough to know she won’t relent until he concedes. Poor Trent, he doesn’t know what’s about to hit him. Gender roles is a topic she’s particularly passionate about. Especially after working in a male dominated industry. One issue she’s the most passionate about is the idea of women being expected to pick up the majority of the housework even though they work just as much as their male counterparts.

Anticipating a lovers’ quarrel, I take that as my cue to leave and help Theo with the clean-up.

* * *

I’m in my room applying sunscreen when I hear the back door open. Theo and Trent must have left for their surf.

I take in the appearance of my body in the floor length mirror Jess’s mum insisted on having in each room. I don’t know whether it’s the lighting or if that’s really what I look like, but I decide to grab a sarong and cover up whatever skin the swimsuit left exposed.

My thighs and arms are covered in tiny silver tracks of imperfection.

No matter how much weight I may have lost, these scars will serve as a permanent reminder of who I used to be.

The last time I went for a swim, I was wearing a long sleeve rash shirt and board shorts. It was a rather unflattering ensemble but the only one I felt comfortable wearing to the beach.

While part of me wishes that’s what I had on now, I know I’ll look ridiculous next to Jess who’s probably wearing a skimpy bikini that leaves nothing to the imagination.

Just when my legs begin to morph into cottage cheese in front of my eyes, there’s a knock at the door. “Come in,” I call, grabbing a wide straw hat to cover my belly.

Jess strolls in, taking a seat on my bed. “Jesus Christ, Imogen, where did that body come from? I’d kill for a rack like that.”

I glance down at my chest and she continues talking. “I can’t believe how Trent was behaving earlier. Is it too much to ask for him to just get off his ass and help for once?”

“Why don’t you try another way of communicating? Instead of asking him to do something and complaining when he doesn’t, try praising or rewarding him when he does something good. Like you would a puppy. It seems to me like he would do anything to make you happy, and if he sees doing chores as a means to that, it might encourage him.”

Jess is silent as she contemplates my suggestion.

“For a while at least,” I add with a wink.

From the short walk to the beach I’m already sweaty and hot, ready to cool down in the water.

Jess wanted to sit right in front of where Trent and Theo were surfing. She takes off her cover, revealing her toned, slim body in a tiny red bikini and suddenly a swim where I’d have to remove my sarong doesn’t seem so appealing anymore.

We both lay out our beach towels and lie down. Her on her back with a hat covering her face, and me on my stomach reading the new book I downloaded on my Kindle.

For the first five minutes, the warmth is relaxing, my skin absorbing as much Vitamin D as possible before we head into winter. But it’s not long after that the sun starts to feel unbearable.

“I’m going for a swim,” I tell Jess, and she mumbles in response, clearly content to continue laying out.

Once I’m waist-deep in the water, I take the plunge and dive under. Moving out a little deeper, I swim through the white-wash until only my head is above the water.

The best part of a wave is the peak. If you catch one just before it crashes it lifts your body up and over the wave effortlessly.

I repeat this countless times before leaning back and allowing the tide to pull me back into shore. The water feels so refreshing I could stay in here for hours, floating on my back, absorbing the ocean minerals.

Blissfully unaware of my surroundings, I get the fright of a lifetime when I hear someone shout my name while I’m underwater.

I spring my head up, worried I’m about to meet Jaws, when I spot Theo paddling towards me on his surfboard.

Not quite as terrifying as a shark but gets my adrenaline pumping nonetheless.

I stand to my full height in the water to hear what he wants and that’s when I notice his eyes travel down my face, towards my very exposed cleavage.

Since I’ve been swimming my top has been pulled down to an almost obscenely low position. The pale skin of my chest glowing against the black swimsuit, making it even more noticeable.

Shit, I hope he doesn’t think I wear it like that intentionally.

I try to pull it back up as subtly as possible but it ends up looking like I’m just trying to jiggle them instead.

I was wrong.

Jaws would’ve been a better option than this.

He clears his throat and looks down at his board. “I was checking on you… You’ve been out here for ages and Trent and I are about to head in.”

Maybe it’s time to head back in then; I’ll need to re-apply my sunscreen and my fingers are starting to feel pruned and gross.

“You should probably come back in too. You shouldn’t be out here by yourself, the current’s getting stronger.” He tilts his head toward the ocean, a concerned look across his face.

Despite the fact that he’s trying to tell me what to do, I find his protectiveness oddly sweet.

“I was about to head in now anyway,” I say, walking back to shore.

Theo nods then turns back out towards the water, catching a wave to bring him in. I don’t know what it is about guys having talent, but it makes them seem way more attractive.

So when guys like Theo can effortlessly surf as though they spend every day at the beach, it makes them practically irresistible.

By the time I get back to our set up on the beach, Jess and Trent are laying out in the sun together. The harsh UV rays are turning their skin pink, but it doesn’t look like they’ll be ready to leave anytime soon.

Theo bends down to grab my towel and hands it to me.

“Thanks,” I say, taking the towel from him and wrapping it around myself as fast as possible. “I’m going to head back now. You two should apply some more sunscreen if you’re going to lay out, otherwise you’ll burn,” I caution.

“Yes, Mother,” Jess replies sarcastically.

“I’m gonna head back too. I’ll take your board, Trent,” Theo offers, tucking one under each arm and walking back to the house.

At the start of the week, he looked every bit the refined businessman. Now he could just as easily be mistaken for a professional athlete. With minimal effort, Theo does everything better than most people do anything.

My legs and feet are covered in sand, so not wanting to traipse it into the house I head round the back to the outdoor shower, where I find Theo hosing off the boards.

I debate whether to just turn around and wait for him to be finished, but it’s too late. He’s already turned around and seen me standing there. I walk towards him and turn on the shower next to the hose. Unwrapping the towel from my body, I step under the icy cold stream. The cold temperature sends an unwelcome shock to my system. I back out from under the water and accidentally bang into Theo in the process.

Luckily, he catches me before we both crash to the ground.

I expect him to release me, but instead his arms stay put around my body.

My breaths are shallow and quick, almost as if I’m hyperventilating, and I know it’s not from the water alone. Spinning around in his arms, I’m suddenly pressed against Theo in the most intimate position I’ve ever been in with someone else in my life.

For only a split second I glance down at his lips, but he still notices, and then all of a sudden his hands are cradling my face.

“Can I kiss you?”

I look at his lips again, this time for a few seconds, and then he makes the decision for me, crashing his lips into mine.

Somehow, we both end up back under the spray. And even though there’s cold water pouring down over us, my body is burning. Like I’ve been set alight.

He runs his hands through my hair and deepens the kiss.

It feels like the most natural thing in the world, yet completely foreign at the same time. I try my best to follow his pace, but my lips aren’t sure exactly what to do.

Then he pulls away.

I inhale deeply, somehow forgetting to breathe while his lips were touching mine. He peppers kisses down my neck and chest, allowing me to catch my breath.

After tasting nearly every inch of my skin, he pauses, resting his forehead against mine.

I brace myself for his lips to touch mine again, this time confident I’ll be more cooperative and know what to do.

But instead, he says something that makes my heart sink.

“Was that your first kiss, Imogen?” The words leave his mouth like an apology.

As soon as he asks the question I’m so mortified, I freeze.

Was it really that obvious?

I don’t know whether I’m furious at him for catching me off-guard or ashamed that he’s realised I’m in my mid-twenties and until this moment had never been kissed.

Regardless, I push away from him and run towards the house, worried I might embarrass myself further and do something stupid like burst into tears.

It doesn’t take long for him to catch me though, grabbing my arm trying to slow me down. “Imogen, wait! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” The desperate tone is almost enough to make me turn around.

I try to pull free and tug my arm away from his grip. “Please just let me go.”

“It doesn’t matter to me, Imogen. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

“It’s fine, please, just let me go inside,” I beg, my eyes are already starting to well with unshed tears.

He lets go of my arm, looking as devastated as I feel.

It’s not his fault. I guess I’d just always hoped if the time ever did come, I’d be able to pull off hiding my inexperience.

Clearly, I was wrong.

I don’t know how I’ll be able to look him in the eye for the rest of the trip, let alone when we get back to work.

Once I know for sure he’s not following me, I lock the door in my bedroom, change into a pair of soft grey sweats and a loose pale pink jumper, then climb into bed with my Kindle.

Reading could always distract me from whatever personal problems in life I faced.

A boy calls me fat? I dive into chapters to find solace.

I get excluded from a party the whole school is going to? I draw on fictional characters for companionship.

My father screams at me for not meeting his expectations? I escape into a different reality, losing myself in the wonders of fictitious stories.

But unfortunately, this time my beloved books don’t seem to be doing the trick.

* * *

After a few hours of sulking, it’s time to be a little more productive instead of wasting away the afternoon. The one and only thing that could make me happy right now is Rubanza, so I decide to get to work on a formal presentation that collates both the reputational and financial benefits of partnering with the organisation.

If the call with my dad has taught me anything it’s that I need to present a convincing case that’s impossible to say no to.

I begin with my favourite part, the visual aspects. Using the photos from my phone and their website, I start creating a PowerPoint presentation on my laptop, then noting down some of the key reasons why Rubanza is so special, and some statistics proving its legitimacy and effectiveness in helping the elephant population thrive. Once the bones of the presentation are there, I spend the next couple of hours working on some research to support why it makes commercial sense to fund a charity like ours, then read through everything and proofread it a few times to make sure it’s all accurate.

Overall, I’m happy how it all came together and I’m confident this tactic will work better going forward. While I was in Africa, there was one company I had in mind that would be an ideal fit.

Porter & Mill, a national building supply chain, that supports sustainable resource extraction for raw construction materials like wood, steel, and other supplies. Not only have I worked with them myself, they’re also the supplier of choice for Theo’s company.

I find a few marketing contacts for the company online and decide to cold email, attaching my presentation, and hit send.

Fingers crossed their reply is positive.

When I hear Jess and Trent get back, I know I can’t hide out in my bedroom for much longer.

After I’ve had time to digest what happened, I’m starting to realise I may have overreacted slightly.

Okay, a lot.

In Theo’s mind, the question was probably harmless, just an innocent observation. He probably wouldn’t have expected I’d take it as such an insult. I’d been afraid of that moment since I turned twenty—an age I unofficially deemed too old to have never been kissed. And I was embarrassed that someone like Theo was the one to find out.

Now that I’ve had time alone to think, I want to move on from it gracefully. I was so afraid that my inexperience would make me seem like a loser in Theo’s eyes. Little did I realise, storming off would accomplish that itself.

Putting on a brave face, I decide to head back out into the lounge and start prepping dinner. It’s a beautiful evening, probably one of the last we can enjoy outside before it starts to get colder.

Making my way into the kitchen, I see Jess and Trent wiped out on the couch, each with a drink in their hand.

I can see from their red complexions, they didn’t take my advice.

“Theo just left,” Jess says, without even looking up.

What?

He left?

My stomach turns, and I instantly regret the way I behaved earlier.

“You didn’t get enough booze, Imogen! We’re not all lightweights like you,” Trent grumbles, taking another swig of what’s probably the eighteenth beer he’s drunk since we’ve arrived.

So he hasn’t left, just gone to get more alcohol.

My shoulders relax.

When he comes back, we’ll have an opportunity to clear the air. If we had to wait till Tuesday when we’re both back at work, it would’ve made things more awkward.

I return to my room and find the special sesame balm I got from Africa. The solvent is antibacterial, antiseptic, and incredibly soothing on the skin. Jess and Trent’s burns will have faded considerably by tomorrow morning if they apply this. I hand the tube to Jess, and she grabs it from my hands.

“You’re a lifesaver. Thank you.” She sets to work applying a thick layer over her face, chest, and arms. Once she’s covered, she lathers some more onto her palms and starts wiping it on Trent’s cheeks and forehead.

“Ugh! That smells like shit!” he cries.

Did I mention it kind of stinks?

His reaction has Jess and I in hysterics, while he tries desperately to wipe it off with the beach towel. When that doesn’t work, he heads to the kitchen sink putting his entire face under the faucet. We laugh even harder.

Bent over in hysterics, with tears running down our eyes is how Theo finds us when he gets back. A crate of beer in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other.

Immediately his eyes go to me.

“How do I get this fucking crap off my face?” Trent whines.

“Come with me, babe,” she says, holding out her hand to him.

She leads them into their bedroom, and we hear the shower turn on. Once again, Theo and I are left alone together.

Since he probably doesn’t know where he stands with me right now, I decide to break the ice between us. “Let me help you with those.”

Instead of passing them to me, he lifts both bags onto the bench. “I can’t stand the thought of you being upset with me.”

It’s clear now that I jumped to the wrong conclusions this time.

“Honestly, Theo, it’s fine. You just caught me off guard. We’re going to see each other from time to time, and I don’t want things to be awkward for either of us. All I want is to move on from this and continue to work together in a professional capacity and forget it ever happened. I’m sure you feel the same.”

There! That wasn’t that hard.

Hopefully, I’ve redeemed whatever maturity I lost in his eyes this afternoon. I want him to feel confident that I can deal with issues rationally-both personally and professionally.

He looks down at the ground and clenches his jaw “I don’t feel the same way. But I’ll respect your decision.”

Don’t what?

Agree to move on?

I’m confused by his reply, but before I get the chance to clarify he leaves, heading back out the front door.