Talking to Addison

‘Miss Degree here just told me to piss off. Didn’t you?’ she said, pointing at me.

‘Tash, I really don’t want any trouble. It’s my last night, so you can go and find someone else to pick on, OK?’

‘Oh, diddums. Don’t want any trouble?’ She pushed her hand up under my box, so the flowers scattered all over the floor.

‘You think you’re just a bit too good for us here, don’t you?’ she said.

‘No,’ I said, meaning: ‘Yes, I hope so.’

‘Catfight!’ shouted one of the lads.

‘You think you’re just a little bit special; a bit above all this.’

‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ the lads picked up.

‘No, I don’t,’ I said, but caught my breath in surprise when she pushed me. The blood started to rush in my ears, but I certainly didn’t know how to fight. I leaned down to pick up the box, and she kicked me in the shoulder.

After that, everything seemed to rush. Immediately the boys and the other drooling girls formed a circle round us, and I was trapped. I got to my feet, wondering what on earth to do. Tash was looking at me, laughing.

‘Not quite so up on the smart remarks now, are we?’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, leave it, Tash.’ I was trying to be reasonable, but my voice came out all shaky. Then, suddenly, like one of those flying vampires in the movies, she launched herself at me. I was falling backwards, and someone was clawing at my face and hair. A jumble of thoughts rushed through my head, not the least of which was: How embarrassing; my first fight at the age of twenty-eight.

My focus swam back in, and I realized she was sitting on top of me, getting ready to punch me. The boys were yelling, and I thought what a turn-on this must be for them. I tried to twist her off, but she slapped me hard on the side of the head. Oh God. My heart was beating a million miles an hour.

‘JUST FUCK OFF!’ I screamed. ‘FUCK OFF!’ She slapped me again, hard, then made her hand into a fist and drew it back to punch me.

She crunched into me with such force that my head rattled off the concrete. I was stunned by the violation and thought I was going to pass out; I wanted to. I couldn’t see anything, but suddenly she seemed to float off me; the weight was lifted and I wondered if I’d died and was having an out-of-body experience.

The next thing I knew, Johnny was pulling me up, brushing me down and exclaiming, ‘Girls fighting! I don’t know.’

‘I told you I was going to the wars,’ I snivelled, then realized I was crying, and there was snot and blood and tears all down my face. Tash was being held back by two of the lads, who were killing themselves laughing.

‘BITCH!’ she shrieked at me. ‘PATHETIC BITCH.’

I certainly wasn’t going to respond in any way that was going to antagonize her. In fact, I wasn’t going to stay another second.

‘I’m going home,’ I sniffed to Johnny.

‘We’ll have to get you cleaned up a bit, don’t you think? Could be quite a nasty shiner.’

‘NO!’ I said. ‘I’m going home NOW!’

‘Do you want me to phone someone to come and pick you up?’

‘No … I’ve got my bike and I just want to go HOME.’

‘All right then …’

He walked me to the bike, clearly concerned. Then he asked me to hang on a minute, nipped into his office and came out again with an envelope, which he handed to me.

‘Take care of yourself,’ he said. ‘You’re not as tough as you think you are.’

‘I think I’m as tough as a small mouse,’ I said. ‘And I’m still not as tough as I think I am.’

He clapped me avuncularly on the shoulder. ‘Don’t cycle too fast.’

I didn’t cycle at all, but wheeled my bike down the hill, crying and feeling very sorry for myself indeed. The road was quiet at that time of night, with only the occasional car flashing past me. I was glad. I didn’t want to be seen.

The house was cold and still, as usual. And after last week’s débâcle, I certainly wouldn’t be popping in to chat to Addison. Sniffing, I went off to the bathroom to clean myself up. I could feel my left eye very sore and swollen, and there were scratches over my eyebrow and down my cheek.

As I crept past Addison’s room, I spotted an amazing thing. Usually his door was tightly shut, a warning against any interruption. Tonight, however, it was open – just a tiny, tiny crack, barely noticeable, but definitely open. Was he out? No, it was just that my ears had become so inured to the tapping I didn’t hear it unless I was listening for it. Plus, of course, he never went out. And given that he did everything on purpose … he must have left it open for a reason. Could it be … could it be possible that he wanted to talk to me?

Desperate for some human sympathy, even of the completely mute kind, I pushed the door a little more. He was there, as ever, transfixed by the computer screen. As I walked in, though, he moved his swivel chair a little, turning away from the screen and towards me.

‘Addison …’ I said in a very small voice, and immediately burst into noisy sobs. ‘Addison!’

His face registered shock as he saw me, and he stood up. For the first time I noticed how tall he was, how long his legs were. I gazed at him, my lower lip wobbling uncontrollably.

‘Look at you,’ he said softly.

‘It wasn’t my fault!’ I snorted.

‘Did you get mugged?’

‘Ehm, no, I was in a fight … but it wasn’t my fault.’

He nodded, as if it didn’t surprise him for a second that I’d been in a fight.

‘Come on,’ he said, and I followed him into the bathroom. Completely helpless, I let him sit me down on the side of the bath and dab my wounds with TCP. Although my insides were still churning and I was very upset, nonetheless there was definitely something thrilling about Addison touching my face. This was practically a date. Then I caught sight of my face in the mirror.

‘Oh my GOD,’ I moaned. My eye was twice its normal size, and as pink and purple as a prize fighter’s.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Addison comfortingly. ‘Sit still.’

‘I can’t … I mean, I’ve got a date and a job and – oh GOD. Ouch! Where did you go to medical school?’

‘If it stings, that means it’s doing you good.’

‘Yeah, a bee said that to me once.’

‘Ssh,’ he said, uncoiling an Elastoplast on to my right cheek. ‘It’ll be a lot better in the morning.’

‘Will it be gone in the morning?’

‘Ehm … no, but it will be better.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, still gazing at him, my eyes still wet. For the first time ever, he smiled straight at me. I felt faint.