Page 71 of Unnecessary Drama

‘Okay.’

I stroke her hair, over and over, until I hear her breathing deepen and she falls asleep.

30

I wake up to the smell of pancakes. I roll away from Lauren, my arm dead from lying in a pretzel shape all night while she stretched out. I pull on my dressing-gown and head out to the lounge room. Tristan and Kendra are asleep on the couch, Kendra tucked under his arm, with several towels draped over them in lieu of blankets. Two weeks ago, I thought he was gone from my life forever and now he’s spending the night on my couch, snuggled cosily under my towels, with my saucepan next to him in case he needed to puke, and I haven’t fully examined how I feel about this, but I think I might be okay with it.

Henry is in the kitchen making pancakes.

‘Oh my god, they look delicious,’ I say. He’s wiping down benches and cleaning as he goes, and I feel instantly relaxed.

‘I’m an average cook, but I make really really good pancakes,’ he says, smiling at me.

We talk and laugh while he makes them, and I appreciate how careful he is, pouring exactly the right amount of batter in the pan, lifting the side gently to see if it’s done and turning it over with an expert flip. And once you get past his shyness, he’s funny and smart. Penny was right to set us up. He’s perfect for me. I stare at him, and will myself to like him romantically, to find a spark. I want to want him. To bundle up all the desire inside me and redirect it towards this lovely guy.

‘Sorry?’ I say, when I realise I missed the last thing he said.

‘I said, we could get tickets to see something at the Melbourne Film Festival later this year,’ he says. We’ve been talking about documentaries.

‘I’d like that,’ I say, then stop. Have I committed to a date? No, because we’re talking about an event that is months away. But I probably need to clarify. But maybe I will fall in love with him sometime between now and then.

He’s watching me and I feel like he can tell what I’m thinking, and my cheeks get warm.

He puts a plate of pancakes in front of me.

‘As friends,’ he adds.

‘Right,’ I say. I hope my face isn’t revealing too much relief.

‘I know we met through a set-up, but I think we could be good friends. I mean, good as friends. But also maybe good friends,’ he says, and then laughs nervously.

‘Me too,’ I say. This, this right here, is more evidence that I should be falling in love with him. Maybe I can see a hypnotist, or a love chiropractor, and get my feelings realigned.

‘Morning,’ Jesse says, walking into the kitchen, yawning and rubbing his hand through his hair so it sits up at a weird angle. He pours himself a glass of water, drinks it, and leaves the glass on the bench. This should be deeply unattractive to me. And yet…

Damn it.

I like him.

I like him so much.

I need an feelings exorcist.

Everyone else eventually wakes up and joins us, and Henry makes another round of pancakes, and Tristan puts on Lord of the Rings for ‘background ambience’ and then nearly faints when Harper says she’s never seen it and doesn’t know what a hobbit is. Lauren complains she can’t drive home because her hand is too sore to hold the steering wheel, and even though she said she wanted to stay a few days, she wants to go home today because she’s heard a rumour that some of her friends might be sending flowers for said cut hand (in response to some dramatic bloodied photos she posted to her social media late last night after the photoshoot).

I tell her I will drive her home in her car, and get Mum to drive me back into Geelong tomorrow morning and I’ll get the train back, but then Harper says, ‘Why doesn’t Jesse go and visit his family too and then he can give you a lift home tomorrow?’ Jesse looks immediately stressed with this idea, but Lauren says, ‘Yes, perfect,’ and Tristan says, ‘Sounds like the best solution,’ and Henry agrees, and the decision is made.

Lauren puts the radio on loud on the highway home, and we sing together and laugh. Why couldn’t I have been like this at karaoke last night? Thankfully, Lauren doesn’t bring up my outburst.

Mum and Nanna are waiting for us as we pull up, watching at the window. Mum rushes outside.

‘Brooke honey,’ she says, coming to me first, and I am secretly relieved, because I was worried she would go and check Lauren’s hand first, but she hasn’t seen me in months and I needed to be first. I probably need therapy for even having this thought, but I don’t care. I bury myself in her arms when she hugs me, and I almost cry. I haven’t let myself go home much since I moved to Melbourne, because I was afraid I would burrow back into their love and safety and I wouldn’t want to leave. I needed to build up a life that was good enough to make sure I would go back to first.

‘You look pale,’ Nanna says, bundling me into a hug.

‘I’m always pale,’ I say.

‘Michelle, she needs more sun!’ Nanna says to Mum.