Tubby-Ass and the School Bully

My heart thundered in my chest; a fast staccato rhythm bordering on painful. As soon as I saw him I knew who he was. Despite the changes to his appearance I could not forget those eyes; silver like lightening, piercing and direct. They were as familiar to me as my own face. It was just so cliché; like some cheap TV drama; that he should come back into my life now. The irony of it was so strong I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
My sister caught my eye and I knew there was no hiding from her. She could see the stricken look on my pale desolate face.
Sick to the stomach, I clenched a hand over my abdomen and left the room. I was lying face down on my bed when my sister came in. She sat beside me, laying her hand on my head and stroking my hair. I was surprised by her silent forbearance; she wasn’t a patient person and her curiosity was irrepressible.
I sighed and rolled over, scrubbing a hand over my eyes. “I know him from high school. You were at University…staying with the Plympton’s.”
When she didn’t respond I began to pluck nervously at my dress, a scowl puckering my brow. “His name is Tobias Blackwood. He was fat and clumsy. He annoyed me so much in school that I changed his name to Tubby-Ass. Get it? Tob-i-as.” I indicated with my hands and smiled in self derision. “I was his bully, Grace. I tormented him. I was popular, the teachers liked me and I…abused that. I used that. I hated him.”
“Why?”
“I guess…I guess it was because he liked me and –”
“Ella!” my sister exclaimed, her hand stilling in my hair.
“I know! I know…you don’t need to tell me it was cruel because I already know.” Impatiently I shook her off and stomped to the window. “I’m so ashamed – you don’t even know half of what I did.”
Suddenly, to my horror, tears started gathering in my eyes. Grace jumped up as though to comfort me but I turned away.
“Ella,” she murmured softly. “Don’t beat yourself up like this. In fact, when I was in high school –”
“Oh stop, Grace! Don’t try and make me feel better with your own guilt! It can’t – doesn’t compare.” I dashed my hand across my eyes and took a shuddering breath, making an effort to gentle my voice when I spoke. “Ugh, this is so dramatic. What a drama queen I am! I don’t mean to be like this. I’ve held on to a lot of guilt and I’ve never had closure…see…Tobias – I…I betrayed him. I hurt him – more than I’d ever hurt him in the past. He left school after that – my fault. I was spoilt and selfish and so headstrong. I was proud. I think that’s what he meant when he said he would bring me to my knees – he was so very angry, you know. I think he is here to get revenge.”
Grace sat on the edge of my bed, considering me. I leaned against the window ledge, fingering the pattern on my dress. After a moment, I took a deep breath and tried to calm my nerves and think clearly.
“No,” I murmured slowly. “That’s not like him. He isn’t petty like that. He – loved me. He did. He always had and now it’s too late…”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, how can it be any different? The way he looked at me, Grace – I’ve never seen such a cold look directed at me before.”
Grace bit her lip; I could tell she was fighting her mirth and I glared at her. With effort, she controlled herself and took a deep breath. “Okay, Ella, here is the way I see it. I’m gonna tell it to you straight, alright?”
I nod and she rushes onwards, her hands gesturing and her eyes wandering around the room – a clear sign that she is thinking deeply. “You were both young. It’s been six years since high school finished, right? So, I’m thinking that either you are so far out of his head that he doesn’t even spare a thought for you anymore. Which is very likely, you know. There are a lot of people at this party tonight; all Dads business friends and their business friends and their families and friends and so on and so forth. It could be pure coincidence –”
“But I know him. He hates this word – all the social functions and stuffy, stuck up –”
“Don’t interrupt! Do you want my opinion or not?” she leans forward and cuffs me across the head like I’m a rebellious bear cub. I laugh despite myself. “Good,” she smiles, her eyes crinkling prettily at the corners. “As I was saying… um – I forgot what I was saying – but just know that he might be completely indifferent towards you now. Why does that upset you? It’s been six years, Ella. I’m telling you now that you have nothing to lose by going back down stairs. If he is indifferent, it changes nothing and you can go about your merry way. If, however, he holds a grudge, which would be stupid and petty, then perhaps the closure you need to let go of your guilt can only be assuaged by a heartfelt apology. It’s a win-win situation!”
“What if I want more from him? What if…” I fidgeted uncomfortably. I didn’t know how to tell her that I had feelings…for him. Still.
Grace shrugged and took my arm with a calm reassuring smile; she smiled like mum used to. That special smile mum reserved for when we fell and scraped out knees; the smile that said that everybody hurt in life and that it was okay to cry; everything would be alright.
“I’m not sure what else to tell you, Ella. I just think that perhaps you’re panicking more than you need to right now. Maybe he just wants to get to know you again? Maybe he has forgotten you completely. Either way, it’s not such a bad thing. Come on, let’s go.”
I purse my lips and allow myself to be lead. Yes, six years is a long time… However, the very thought that he might be indifferent towards me terrified me. I’d almost prefer his hate; at least that way he felt something for me. For me to feel so much for him while he feels nothing at all – it would be torture.
Of all the times he could come back, he came back now. Why? Why not when I had my life together two months ago? Why now when I am a complete and utter failure? The irony of it choked me; I wanted to be sick. I had failed; all my dreams, all my father’s expectations, all my friends’ expectations – everything I thought I was and was going to be. It would be so easy for him to throw my own words back in my face. The same words I hurled in his face six years ago. I am a nothing. And he had every right, after everything I had said and done, to punish me.
It seemed to take forever to walk down the stairs. It was like a dream, everything around me surreal and blurred at the edges. My steps slowed and my heart thudded. Perhaps Grace did understand a little because she paused with me at the door and didn’t say a word. My other hand clasped my throat, my pulse drumming against my neck. Why couldn’t I breathe? We shuffled forward and I watched as my own hand, moving on its own accord like some automaton extension of my body, thrust open the door…
I gasp. Glass shattered on the floor at my feet, champagne seeping into my gown. Every head in the room swivelled to look my way as the waiter, Geoff, quickly crouched down, not caring that he cut himself in his haste to clean up the broken glass. I bent down to help but he sent me a glare so fierce that I backed away. I understood. He needed to do this himself or otherwise he would be deemed incompetent and his lashing from Mrs Thane would be ten times worse. Only it wasn’t his fault. It was mine; I’d opened the door on him so swiftly he hadn’t had time to duck and knocked the silver tray out of his hand, pouring the contents of the champagne glasses on my bodice.
Everyone continued to stare and I stuck my chin up haughtily even as I felt my cheeks blush a furious red. My father was standing off to the side, near the buffet table. I met his hard eyes and what I read there had my shoulders sagging and my eyes burning. I noticed another figure, standing at the opening of the terrace with an elegant brunette, his figure was so different but so heartbreakingly familiar; his broad shoulders, his dark head, his tall body – so lean and muscled now – so different from the Tubby-Ass I used to know.
I spun on my heel and left the room, brushing past Grace and leaving her in the door way.
I rushed to the laundry, sobbing as I stripped out of my damp gown and cleaned the sticky residue of champagne off my body with a damp towel. I took heaving breaths and closed my eyes. I made myself calm down, running my hands down my sides like I did when I was a child; an old habit I thought I had banished forever. Smiling wanly, I searched in the basket of clean clothes for something to wear. I pulled on a pair of faded old SpongeBob pyjamas. I wasn’t going to go back to the party. Dad would be angry, I knew, but there was no way I was returning.
Sighing, I folded my dress over the back of the hamper and froze.
My back stiffened. I didn’t need to turn around to know who stood in the doorway. I could feel his presence and it was like stepping out into the sun for the first time after years of being buried in darkness. I inhaled, slowly, he smelt of wood and spice and fresh rain; warm and comforting. My heart clambered up into my throat, my eyes stung and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. I gripped the hamper.
“Tobias…” I whispered.
“The house hasn’t changed much. I like the new terrace.” His voice was so cool and neutral. Indifferent.
My heart ached.
“Where’s Thor?”
“He died. He ran out onto the road – car didn’t see him till it was too late,” I said, pleased that my voice was relatively steady even if I couldn’t muster the courage to face him. “Happened three years ago; Dad forgot to lock the gate when he came home…”
My hands trembled as I folded the towel, slowly and meticulously; my absorption more to do with who was behind me rather than my own fastidiousness.
I felt, more than heard, Tobias moving behind me; stepping into the laundry and closing the door behind him. I shook so hard the towel slipped out of my grasp and I clenched my hands around myself, hunching my shoulders. He came up beside me, he didn’t touch me but I shivered as I felt his warmth envelop me from behind. He leant down, dark head in my peripheral and picked up the towel at my feet. I was achingly aware that his head was inches from my thigh. He stood and dropped the towel on the hamper. He had strong long brown forearms, white shirt rolled up just under the elbows. He must have taken his suit jacket off. His hands were large and masculine. I longed for him to touch me but he didn’t. He just stood there, caging me in.
I refused to cry. I allowed myself to be a little angry; it gave me strength. “Why are you here?”
“I was invited. I’m head of the security company belonging to Frasier –”
“Dad invited you?”
“Yes,” he said, very simply. Even his voice sounded different; deeper, more gravelly. Strong and purposeful. Confident in his masculinity.
I bit my lip. If he was indifferent, why is he here, with me, right now? “Why are you here?”
He was silent for a moment and then, when he spoke, his voice was deeper; laden with an emotion I couldn’t quite interpret. “Over and over I’ve thought about what I’d say when I saw you again. But at the sight of you, looking so beautiful next to your father, welcoming people into the house; it made me so angry. I remember everything you said that day; even what you were wearing. Do you remember? You were in year eleven; I had to repeat year twelve after my parent’s death. You were wearing the school dress and a piece of silk in your hair, tied in a bow at the top of your head. You told me that you didn’t want me. In front of your friends you told me I was a nobody, that I was going nowhere and that you deserved more than that. You wanted more than that. You… You said that I wasn’t up to your standard – we were nothing alike – and there was no way in hell that you would continue our relationship.”
I couldn’t breathe; I held the tears in check by sheer willpower but nothing could disguise the way my shoulders jerked on dry, silent sobs. He went on, mercilessly, his voice changing from maddeningly calm; deepening and roughening till it was more of a growl.
“It was a year after my parent’s death. I’d been put down a grade. I shouldn’t have even been at school by then. I was a whole year older than all the year twelves in my classes. But I was broken and depressed –” he spat the words “– and you stood there, your friends laughing, telling me you were going places, that your father was an important man – do you remember what I told you?”
I could barely answer; tears made my voice thick. “You said – that my pride would get in the way of my happiness. You said that you – you were the one who was…was going to bring me to my knees!”
He was silent for a moment, those words from long ago hanging heavily between us. “For a long, long time – that’s all I wanted to do,” he murmured quietly. “I used to imagine – all sorts of ways to punish you. I used to dream that I was your boss; that you worked under me and I would punish you that way. I would work you hard and I would be indifferent and eventually you’d come to me. You would apologize. You would cry. I would take you into my arms and forgive you. I would give you everything you ever wanted and more. I would prove to you that I could – be the person you needed. Other days I would imagine that once you were penitent and sorry, I would just walk away. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do more, to throttle you or kiss you.”
I laughed wetly, sniffing and trying not to cry too hard. Gently but firmly, Tobias’ hands rested on my shoulders and turned me around to face him.
“I thought I understood you,” he said, wiping under my eyes with his thumbs, cradling my face in his rough calloused hands. “But I realised, not long after that…you were just afraid. Ella, I don’t blame you anymore. I haven’t stopped wanting you. I’ve always wanted you. Even when you were my bully –” he laughed shakily “– I was in a grade two years above you when we first met and yet you bullied me! And of course everybody followed your lead; you were Marcus Hillier’s daughter…” he took my hand in his and held against his cheek.
I looked up into his dear face. His defined cheek bones, his strong jaw, his eyes so direct and piercing and alive with tenderness. There were new laugh lines in the corners of his eyes and his face was lean and almost rough looking; his nose was crooked; he’d obviously broken it and his lips pulled up slightly at one corner by a tiny familiar scar. He’d begun to lose weight that last year I spent with him; the year we quietly dated. Now he was broad shouldered and muscular.
“I betrayed you when you needed me. How can you just…look past that?”
He smiled a little, looking away and then he frowned, his lips turning down at the corners as though he tasted something bad in his mouth. “I betrayed myself. I was grieving but instead of being a man and making my parents proud, instead of doing the right thing I leaned on you like a crutch and used you.”
“That’s not true! You need someone!” I reached out to touch him but he moved away; troubled and frowning as he looked down at me.
“That’s the whole damn point, Ella. I couldn’t appreciate you for who you were, not like I was. I blamed you for a whole year. I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me. It was a long time till I realised if we continued like we did; me mourning and you constantly having to drag me out of the mires, it would have destroyed us. After I left school that day, I did nothing for a whole year. I didn’t need a job; the government paid me – Centrelink. And then my uncle stepped in,” he laughed wryly and ran a hand through his hair. “He sent me to the military. It was hard, Ella. So damn hard.”
I knew without him saying it that he forgave me. I swallowed and tried not to let the raw emotion in my voice betray how utterly humbled I was. “What did you do in the army?”
“Military Police. It made me man up and I found myself really enjoying the position of leadership. I found myself changing and – I liked who I became.”
I was ashamed. “I failed University. I failed law. I was terrible at studying. After everything I said –”
“I know,” Tobias said and he leaned against the washing machine, looking so calm and collected I struggled for a moment to see the boy I used to love. “I was disappointed you didn’t apply for Visual Arts like you wanted to. I think you should still do it; it was always your dream. Your sister told me your father forced you –”
“Wait a second!” I held up my hands and stared at him hard. “You mean my sister knew about…about all this and didn’t tell me she knew and just – just acted like she didn’t know anything and – and all that?”
“She contacted me a couple of months ago. She was worried about you. She…gave me hope.” He spoke slowly and seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. “During the army Frasier repeatedly approached me with a job offer. He liked what he saw in me. It wasn’t till seven months ago that I finally agreed to take the job.” Tobias looked at me then, really looked at me, his eyes cold and flinty and his mouth pressed in a tight line. “You dumped that idiot Matthew you were dating for two years and I felt like perhaps – if I waited long enough and bided my time – perhaps you would be with me instead. I talked to your sister about it. She agreed with me but she told me to give you time to get over that –” he stopped short, his chest rising and falling a little too fast. His hands clenched and unclenched and I watched entranced as the muscles bunched across his forearms and shoulders. Controlling himself with an effort, he relaxed and shot me a quick, speaking look. “I’m glad you’re not with him anymore.”
“So am I,” I whispered.
I stepped towards him as he reached for me, clasping me to a wall of hard muscle, arms like steal bands. He was so big and warm, his breath hot; drifting across my cheek as he brought his mouth to mine in a kiss so possessive my knees buckled and gave out. He held me securely as though he’d never let me go. We were both a little too raw, a little too emotional to take it slow. I felt like I was falling. I gripped Tobias’ shoulders, my fingers curving over the hard nape of his neck. His kisses were hard, insistent, wild and like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Our relationship in high school was more of a romantic friendship and Matthews kisses felt like a duty; doing what was expected of me. Tobias kissed me until the sensations flowed in directions my thoughts couldn’t follow and I drowned in the dark, greedy, passion of his lips. One of his hands came up to cup my jaw with such care; softening his lips on mine, coaxing instead of possessing; savouring me like fine wine.
Trembling, I pushed at his shoulders. He tore his mouth from mine with a groan and began trailing kisses down my neck.
“Tobias…no…” I gasped, panting. “No, we can’t. Tobias…”
He sighed against my neck, pressing one last kiss to my collar bone and brought his head up to look into my eyes. He was smirking, self-satisfied and smug. It was an expression I was entirely familiar with.
“No!” I hissed, poking his muscled chest with my finger. “This doesn’t mean – Tobias! No!”
He pressed a firm kiss to my lips, telling me without words that I am his.
I pull myself away, scowling. He let me go. Shakily, I straighten my hair and run my hands down my sides, trying to calm my breathing. My lunges heaving like bellows from his kiss; it was comforting to know he wasn’t unaffected either.
“Tobias,” I croaked and cleared my throat. “I’m not sure where this leaves us. High school was six years ago…We’re different people now.”
“You’re scared.”
I wince. “Yes…I always seem to be scared.”
He was silent for a moment, his eyes spearing me with their intensity. “I don’t know if I can convince you or take away your fears. I think…only you can do that. There’s nothing wrong with being frightened, Ella.” He hooked his arm around my waist and drew me in; I felt his lips in my hair. “There was this girl that sat with me through my parent’s funeral. She refused to leave me; she took my hand and held it in both her smaller ones. It was the first time she ever spoke kindly to me and she told me that the future is always going to be uncertain no matter how many plans we make. We had to make sure we made the most of today to ensure a better tomorrow.”
I began to cry; I turned my face into his shirt and fisted my hands on his chest. He continued, fingers curling into my hair. “It wasn’t exactly what a young man wanted to hear at his parent’s funeral. But I knew it was her way of comforting me. I listened because I knew she had lost her mother to cancer. You were so perfectly wholesome and lovely, even after your mother’s death, not broken like I was and so I thought: this is a philosophy I could use. And I use it. Every day I use it. I don’t always get it right and damn, Ella, I know it’s been six years but – I love you. I want to try and be with you. I have loved you and wanted you for so long –”
“But what if I’m not the person you think I am!” I interrupted. “What if you’ve just got this f-fantasy idea of – of me and it’s not true. I’m only half the woman you think I am! What if –”
I didn’t get very far because his lips came crashing back down on mine, silencing me effectively. When he pulled away, we were both breathing hard and his hand was under my shirt, tracing the skin on my lower back.
“Your sister told me you’d be reluctant at first,” he murmured lowly, his voice deep and dangerous as he crushed me to him a little tighter. “Tell me the truth. If you don’t want me, I’ll leave you alone. I’ll be out of your life and never trouble you again. But don’t lie to me, don’t try and hide what you feel from me. Ella…Could you ever bring yourself to love me?”
My heart beat wildly against my chest. I stared at the hollow of his throat, my mouth inches away. He smelt like home; warm and spicy. I want to curl up in his body, in his scent and stay there forever. Six years was such a long time. But so was the rest of my life; such a long time to live in regret for not taking a chance at happiness because fear had me in its grip. I licked my lips, glancing up at him. His beautiful silvery eyes glittering with barely suppressed tension.
Deliberately, I pressed my lips to the hollow of his throat. The skin was warm and smooth and smelt like male. He began to tremble. I rose on my tip toes, wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders and looked deep in his eyes.
“I love you.”
A muffled groan burst from his lips; he hauled me up to his level, my feet dangling and ducked his head for a kiss – only to find my hand obstructing him from that worthy endeavour.
“First of all,” I said, laughing as his fingers tucked themselves in my side, trying to get me to dislodge my hand. “We are going to take it slow. We barely know each other, you know.”
He jerked his head back, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve already bought the engagement ring.”
“Second of all,” I held up my finger. “No proposals until at least a year of dating. Thirdly –”
“Thirdly,” he bit the tip of my finger, “You will be mine. And I will be yours. Also we will not keep our relationship a secret like before. And when I do ask you to marry you, you will say ‘yes’ meekly and gratefully and let me make you a very happy woman.”
He led me back into the hall and swung me around, laughing, kissing me till we could barely breathe. His joy was irrepressible and so I saved my conditions and worries for later and allowed myself to bask in the love he was eager to give and very obligingly reciprocated his feelings.

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