Ian thought he might not be able to breath on the plane trip home. He'd been so tired after his night out with the gang. Naturally, they wouldn't give up, even after a drinking game or two. He just wasn't used to it. He supposed. But it was more than that. A bit of him really felt like giving up. Or was that giving in?
He danced with Collette. It was dreadful at first, but it seemed to get better as the night wore on. They left the wake soon enough to end up in the park, just to end up in someone's basement for a so-called, real party. Ian watched the others for the most part. He really didn't want to be there.
"Oh, come on, don't be pansy, will you." Jules got in his face. He was ready for a shoving match. At least Collette stood up for him. They joked about how Ian had to be saved by a slapper. Collette quickly got him out of there before a fight broke out. They ended up at her mum's little row-house.
"I'm sorry, its all shit for you, Ian, but even when I think I should be happy, I never am." She confessed back in her room. She put on some Bloc Party.
"Well?" She looked up at him.
"What?" He winced.
"Um, you are suppose to perhaps kiss me, and you know." She shrugged.
Ian shook his head. He wasn't that drunk.
"You gay now?" She pressed her lips, tightly.
"Only when I'm with you." He joked, sitting next to her. "We're mates, OK? We'll always have that."
"I know." But she wasn't smiling near as much as she was, but she stretched out then. "Well, come on, you need some sleep. I can tell. You look like shit. Just lay next to me, OK." She made room for him. He laid still next to her with his clothes on. She put her arm around him so he could rest his head on her bosom.
"Now tell me something you want to remember about your mother." She told him.
"This is silly." He sighed.
"No it isn't. You must want to remember something." Collette felt certain of it.
"I can't. Nothing. Really. Comes to me." His throat felt so dry and raw.
"Think, mate, think of something sweet. Sweet you can savor, again and again." She hugged him close. She was like falling into a big pillow, but his eyes watered.
"Well," he sighed. "She showed me how to do the twist." It felt good to let that go. "Some old rock'n roll song came on the radio. She was in the kitchen making dinner. And, and I-I might have been five. She said I needed to know how to do the twist. It was so funny. She thought she was such haute stuff. I thought she was. Her hair was so white blond and her short dress was this bright yellow. She was wearing black boots. I think she was going out." He bit his bottom lip. He just had to keep reminding himself that she was dancing. They were dancing.
He thought of that moment now with his mother, on the trip home in the airplane. The tears came like an avalanche, his cell buzzed. He looked down to see it was a text from someone he'd never heard from before. He called the number back. It was Amy.