Page 80 of Hot to Go

‘Bed, I think,’ I reply. ‘It’s been a long day.’

She drags over a plastic white chair and sits opposite me. ‘Look at us matching in our T-shirts.’

‘We look good in teal,’ I say.

‘Keeping it real in teal, like a Spanish seal who is très gentil,’ she says, half rapping, putting her hands into strange positions.

I laugh, watching her shoulders continue to dance in time to the music. ‘You are arseholed.’

‘I’m not!’ she says, offended. ‘I’m on holiday, it’s kind of allowed.’

‘Except it’s kind of work.’

She shrugs. ‘You’re drunk too. This sangria is 11.5 per cent so if you’re not drunk, you’re lying.’

I will admit this is the reason I’ve stayed seated. If I got up, I may have just fallen over like a felled tree. ‘How are those bed bug bites?’ I ask her, looking down at her ankle.

‘Surprisingly numb. Either that or the bed bugs are now a part of me,’ she makes a face that I think is supposed to resemble a bed bug, putting her fingers to the top of her head like antennae, sucking her lips in.

I laugh because I’m inebriated but because she really is quite funny. ‘Don’t do that, you’re giving me trauma from that crab we met before,’ I tell her.

She laughs, her body curled around that seat and the light hitting her face perfectly. ‘Do you want to hear my best crab joke?’

‘You have a best crab joke?’ I ask.

‘What did the crab call his daughter?’

‘I don’t know.’ Yet I think I have an idea.

‘Michelle,’ she says, laughing, her nostrils flaring. It’s only funny because she’s laughing so much as she says it. So much so that she falls off her chair. I double over laughing with her as she lies on the floor, unable to control herself.

‘Is it bedtime?’ she says, putting her hands out for me to pull her up. I think it might be. Don’t fall over, Charlie. As we pull each other up to standing, our bodies bounce and press against each other. Normally, that sort of action would lead to tension, a moment of intensity where we’d be drawn into each other, searching for a kiss. Instead, we both still seem to be in hysterics, her hands around my neck, me laughing so uncontrollably that I let out a little snort. This makes us laugh even more. We stumble to the stairs, draped around each other, Suzie giggling then putting a finger to her lips.

‘You’ll wake the children,’ she whispers.

‘Ssssshhh,’ I say.

I slip on a stair and catch myself just in time on the handrail. She comes down to help me, hooking her hands under my arms. We venture down the corridor, her creeping like she’s a Grinch as I try to hold on to the wall to control myself. When we walk past Mark’s room, the effort of not laughing might kill us though. As from beyond his hostel room door, we can hear sounds. Sex sounds. And a bit of light slapping?

‘C’mon, Jackie. Give it some welly…’

Suzie falls to the floor, rolling around, tears of laughter streaming down her cheeks, while I almost have to crawl past the door, like a bloody army soldier undercover. By the time we get to our room, we can hardly communicate for fear of being heard, and our faces are a shade of lilac. I fumble with the key to let us into the room and we roll in, not totally wasted, just warm and fuzzy, in a state where everything is fucking funny. I stumble to the bed and lie there face down, watching the gauzy white curtain float and dance in the low lights of the room.Suzie stands by the doorway. This is when she should slide over and make her move, isn’t it? But instead she dances over, her hands make cycling motions to a song I can’t hear. It’s not sexy and we both know it. I giggle and she falls into the bed, next to me, resting her head on my shoulder. We lie there on the mattress, taking in the twilight, and catching a breath.

‘It’s been a good day, Charlie,’ she tells me.

‘It has,’ I say, putting my arm around her. ‘I think you peaked with your bed bug impression.’

‘My favourite bit was the part where the Korean lady filmed you going down on me in the park,’ she mentions.

‘I did nothing of the sort. I just slipped and found myself there,’ I tell her.

‘So clumsy. I’m glad I was there to break your landing,’ she says, and again we burst into laughter. She puts a hand over mine and interlocks her fingers. ‘We had sex before.’

‘In the shower…’ I remind her.

She cups her hands over her mouth as we both bring the memory of it back into view. Thinking of a movement so fluid, the water flowing down her cleavage, the sound of her moaning in my ear. I am not sure it would look like this if we attempted it now.

‘Are we too drunk for this, Charlie?’ she asks. ‘I don’t want to take advantage.’

---