I'll Never Say I Love You

Dad gets home at exactly six thirty in the evenings. That’s when Alex packs up, and his mum arrives just as he finishes packing. So when Dad walked through the door, Alex started throwing his stuff into his school bag. I put the board I was using and my books on the floor in front of me, exposing Maxwell. I very carefully lifted him up and held him to my chest as I stood up, then placed him on the chair. He looked around, confused, but then buried his face in the chair. Once I was sure he was comfortable, I turned and faced my dad.

I think that from looking at my dad, you would never guess that he and my mum had been together for twenty-five years. They meet on their first day of what is now middle school, and they both say it was love at first sight. Even after Mum dropped out as soon as she could to become an apprentice chef, they were almost inseparable. They married as soon as Dad graduated high school, and had me when they were twenty-two. They just look completely opposite. Mum looks very haphazard, while Dad is very businessman. He’s the local politician, so he always has to look sharp. Suit and tie at all times. His brown hair is cut very short, his hazel eyes hidden behind thick glasses. He’s average height, with a very slim build. In the office, he’s very serious. At home, he’s friendly but reserved. I take after him a lot as far as my personality goes.

“Good evening, my dear,” he said, kissing my cheek. “How was school?” I gave him the thumbs up and smiled. He nodded and then turned to Alex. “And how was your day, Alex?” he asked.

“Fine, Rick,” Alex answered with a smile. “I’d best be on my way, my mother’s probably waiting for me out the front.”

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing you soon, Alex,” Mum said warmly, walking towards Dad.

I clapped my hands to get their attention. They separated from their embrace and looked at me. I signed that I was walking Alex out to the front of the complex. Once I had their permission, Alex and I headed towards where his mother would be waiting.

“So, what time are you going to be over tomorrow?” he asked hopefully.

‘How long will Bec need?’

Alex sighed. “You know Bec, no sense of time. But she said to leave the majority of the day, because apparently you’re going to need a new wardrobe for your new hair.” I groaned. “It’s okay though – Bec said everything was her shout.”

‘What’s in this for you?’ I signed, trying to make suspicion evident on my face.

“You have me cornered, Miss. Anderson,” Alex replied dramatically, leaning against a tree. He pretended to be smoking a cigarette, to add to the drama. I stifled a giggle. Alex saw this and grinned. He spent a lot of his time grinning. “She promised me a new bike,” he admitted.

‘You are just too easy to manipulate,’ I signed, grinning. I had to use facial expressions a lot, especially if I wanted to add a different emphasis or tone to my words.

“But you love me for it,” Alex said innocently, batting his eyelids.

More than you know, I thought. I knew he meant the comment as a joke, but my heartbeat still increased.

A black jeep pulled up. Alex looked at me expectantly. “So, what time?”

‘Nine,’ I signed. ‘Do I need to bring anything?’

“Not that I’m aware of,” he answered. “See you tomorrow.”

Alex hopped into the passenger seat of the jeep. I watched as it drove towards the sunset, as I did every day. I hoped that one day it would be Alex and I in the car, driving off into the sunset, heading off towards a new life together. Dating, going to Uni together, getting married, and having a family together. I shivered pleasantly at the thought. I imagined us owning our own house, curling up together on our white leather sofa and watching sappy romantic films long into the night, falling asleep in one another’s arms.

I looked away and started walking back towards my unit, filled with melancholy. I knew I wasted my time on such fantasies, because that’s all they were ever going to be: fantasies. Unless we both moved to some alternate reality where I was more beautiful than all the other girls that he dated, I didn’t stand a chance. I wasn’t pretty, but I wasn’t ugly either. I was just normal, and somehow, I didn’t see that as ever being enough for him.

After showering and eating dinner, I spent the night rearranging and reorganising my room. This was a regular activity for me. The layout of my room – or the items on my desk and shelves, at the very least – changed on a monthly basis. Probably the only constant about my room is that I always have music playing. Whenever I was in my room, my iPod was plugged into my speaker/alarm clock and playing. I don’t think I would be able to survive without my music. I love music. I listen to just about anything, evident by the six thousand or so songs on my iPod. I was grateful that I had a rather large capacity on my iPod, and even more grateful that my parents quite happily let me download any music I wanted and charge it to their credit card due to their high income.

I curled up on my bed – queen size – and hugged the left side of my banana pillow. I thought about what my makeover tomorrow would entail. Bec would be ecstatic that I had given in, and Alex would be to a degree. I was absolutely petrified. I had always had a defined style: my hair had never changed, other than a trim every few months. I had worn black since I started primary school. I was terrified because this makeover was a change that I was not in control of. Sure, I was allowing for it to go ahead, but I was not in control of what was going to happen. I was going to wake tomorrow as me, and go to sleep looking like someone completely different, and I didn’t have a say in what I would look like. I trusted Bec completely, but I was still scared. I just hoped that I looked attractive enough for Alex. Smiling at that thought, I turned my light and my music off and snuggled to sleep.

***

I have always been an early riser. I wake up naturally at around eight. It took me a minute to remember that I was getting made over today. I cringed reflexively. I was sure that this was not going to be a pleasant experience. Reluctantly, I got out of bed and walked over to my wardrobe, pulling on jeans and a top. I let my hair hang limply and went out to have breakfast. Dad was sitting at the kitchen counter munching on toast while reading the paper. He looked at me as I opened the door.

“Morning, Tahara,” he greeted.

I gave a small wave and wandered in while Dad looked at the clock warily. He sighed when he saw that it was only quarter past eight and continued eating. Some days, Dad can’t wait to get to work.

“What have you got planned for today?” he asked curiously. “Amanda said you weren’t going to work?”

Dad is the only one who calls Mum Amanda. Everyone else calls her Mandy. Dad has the same thing: his name is Frederick, but everyone calls him Rick except Mum. As for work, on the weekends, I work as a kitchen hand at the cafe Mum owns and runs.

‘I’m getting a makeover,’ I signed, scowling. He chuckled and went back to the paper.
I cooked myself some toast and sat down in my chair. Maxwell was on my lap in seconds. He sniffed appreciatively at the bottom of the plate as I was holding it above him.

“Stupid cat can’t tell the difference between human food and his food,” Dad mumbled as he walked past on his way to the bathroom.

Maxwell seemed to be in a rather playful mood, and so pawed at the plate while I ate my first slice of toast. At one point he jumped on top of the armrest, and then attempted to jump onto the plate, but fell short. I giggled as he fell into my lap.

“Do you need a lift anywhere, Tahara?” Dad asked, poking his head out of the bathroom.

‘If you could,’ I signed. Dad nodded in response and walked into his bedroom.

“Five minutes!” he called out.

I finished off my toast and put the plate on the coffee table. I picked Maxwell up gently, stood, and put him on the chair. He meowed his protest as I left, but quickly settled. I went into my room and grabbed my handbag and a pair of black flats, then raced to the bathroom and quickly brushed my teeth and dragged a brush through my hair again.

“You ready, Tahara?” Dad called. I quickly spit out my mouthwash and raced out to the front door to greet him. “Where do I need to take you? Kate’s?”

I shook my head.

“The shops?” Dad asked quizzically.

I shook my head, and signed out Alex’s name. Dad frowned.

“Alex is giving you a makeover?” he asked, confused.

‘Bec,’ I signed.

“I didn’t know Bec was back,” Dad said thoughtfully. “Righto, off we go.”

The good thing about living in Clindon is that everything is near everything else. It only takes five minutes to drive from one end of the city to the other, but the area is densely populated. From my unit, it’s only a five minute walk to the beach, the shops and the schools. Alex’s house is on the other side of town, more inland. Alex lives with his mum Sandy, his stepdad Brian, his twin three-year-old half-sisters Marie and Anne. Mick, Bec and Alex’s biological Dad, passed away when Alex was seven. I wondered whether Bec was going to be living there, or whether she was going to find her own place. I couldn’t see her living at home permanently again, even though Alex’s house is huge, at least to someone who lives in a two-bedroom unit. It was two storeys, five bedroom, and on a huge block of land to boot. The outside walls were painted a light green, with a dark green roof. Like me, Alex has lived in the same house his whole life.

“What time are you getting home from the party tonight?” Dad asked, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he looked at me.

‘Mum said she’d pick me up at ten,’ I signed. I grabbed my handbag and undid my seatbelt, then frowned at Dad. ‘Please don’t be too shocked with my appearance tonight.’

Dad gave a slight chuckle. “I’ll try not to be. Have fun, love.”

I hopped out of the car and waved at Dad as he drove off. I walked up the front path to the door. Before I could open it, it opened itself. Alex stood there smiling, his hair sparkling with water drops. Opening doors for each other is a regular occurrence for Alex and I – we are so close that we can sense when the other is approaching.

‘Good morning,’ I signed, returning the smile he was giving me.

“Good morning to you,” Alex said, stepping aside so I could walk in. “It’s a good thing you’re here, Bec has been going nuts all morning, fretting about when you were going to get here. She almost fainted with excitement when I told her that you agreed last night.” He closed the door behind me and looked around the spacious lounge room. “I’m actually kind of surprised she wasn’t waiting in one of the chairs, watching out the window for you.”

I laughed. ‘I’m her dream job, aren’t I?’

Alex laughed with me. “Yeah, you know she’s waited years for this.” He collapsed into one of the chairs, his legs draping over the side. “She spent an hour on the phone last night, calling in all kinds of favours to book the things she needs for this. Seems like there’s a lot.”

I sat down in the chair next to Alex. ‘Do you know what she’s doing to me?’

“Not a clue. She’d holding her cards close to her chest on this one.” He winked at me. “I have no doubt that whatever she does, it’ll be fabulous.”

‘That’s what I’m afraid of,’ I signed, blushing. He nodded, understanding what I had been about to explain. I was afraid of fabulous, afraid of having all eyes on me, of being popular.

“She’s here, isn’t she? Oh my gosh, she is here! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!”

I looked towards the staircase to see a blue blur racing down them, seemingly taking the steps three at a time. A few seconds later, I was crushed into the couch.