Page 72 of Power Moves
‘Millsy,’ he began, ‘it’s not that—’
‘Wa-ha-heyyyy!’ hollered a voice across the courtyard. ‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Cohen!’
Archie and I sprang apart as though we’d been electrified by each other.
‘I couldn’t see you guys under there,’ called Chappo. He lumbered to our table and grabbed the branch above my head, which he began to twist. There was a creaking sound as it cracked off the trunk. White petals rained down, innocent victims parachuting to their death. ‘That’s better,’ he said.
The branch was too big to casually hide under a chair, so he shoved it into a fork high up in the tree where, untethered to its food source, it would probably get brittle and hard and fall and crack someone’s skull. Chappo grinned to himself, as though environmental vandalism and potential manslaughter charges were simply hilarious.
He sat on the bench opposite us. ‘Why are you hanging out with Deep Throat?’ he said to Archie.
‘I’m right here!’ I exclaimed.
‘Quiet, woman,’ Chappo said, patting my head with his sweaty hand. I jerked away but I could still feel the wet imprint of his fingers. ‘Cohen, you wanna head off?’
Archie shook his head. ‘No, I’m good.’
‘Chatting up Mill?’
‘Chappo, I can hear you!’
‘We’re talking,’ Archie said.
‘Ohhh,’ exhaled Chappo, a smirk unfurling across his face. ‘Is this a bingo thing?’
‘A what?’ I asked.
‘Uni res bingo,’ Chappo quipped, finally remembering that he, a man, could communicate with me, a woman. ‘Between the footy team, we’ve ticked off a girl in almost every corridor of the building, but I don’t think anyone’s hooked up with a girl on Third Floor East.’
I thought of the other two females in my alcove: bookish Frieda, who only emerged for tutorials and exams, and Carey, who exclusively wore expensive motorcycle jackets and was still with her high school girlfriend.
Chappo continued, ‘You’re on the third floor, right?’
‘Yeah, but …’ My eyes snapped to Archie, who was glaring at his friend. What the hell was Chappo on about? How dare he assume that Archie would only ever hang out with me for the sake of some misogynistic game? I didn’t know what to say, and that made me even more furious because I wasn’t someone who was easily rendered speechless. Fuck Chappo. I hated that he could treat people like this, with zero consequences. Who gave him that right? ‘You’re wrong,’ I spat.
‘Really?’
‘Yes,’ said Archie firmly. ‘I am one hundred per centnotinterested in Millsy like that.’
He was staring murderously at Chappo and I felt a bomb go off inside me. Fuck Archie too! He’d just tricked me into thinking he’d been hitting on me—twice! And did he have to make it so obvious that the thought of hooking up with me was so repulsive to him? And whywasit so repulsive, anyway?He’d probably hooked up with hundreds of girls—what was wrong with me? Being politely disinterested in someone was one thing but making that fact blatantly obvious to Chappo was like feeding red cordial to a hyena. I could almost hear Chappo retelling the story:And then Cohen was like, ‘NOOO, as if I’d hook up with Deep Throat.’
It was so stupid. I shouldn’t care what they thought—it didn’t matter—but I’d just told Archie about my mum. I’d convinced myself I should sleep with him, for god’s sake!
‘I’m going,’ I announced, trying to stand up despite being sandwiched between a table, a bench seat, and two first-grade rugby players. I pushed against the table but, as expected, it remained bolted to the ground. I gritted my teeth. ‘Can one of you move,please?’
Chappo smirked, while Archie muttered something indecipherable and began moving across the seat to make space for me.
‘You don’t have to go,’ he whispered as I slid across the bench and stood up.
‘I know that,’ I hissed. ‘But I do not appreciate being treated like I’m nothing more than a pawn in some stupid chess game.’
‘Bingo,’ supplied Chappo cheerfully.
‘I’m obviously not interested in the game,’ Archie hissed back.
‘Obviously!’ I snapped. ‘But anyone with an ounce of social decency would tell a white lie in front of Chappo, because we all know he’s now going to tell everyone how you publicly rejected me.’
‘No point wasting a good story,’ agreed Chappo, taking a generous swig from his beer.
