Solace

Please talk to me. I can't bear it when you are distant like this

3 hours and still no response.

Sarah checked the cut of her top one last time. She had agonised over it, deliberately chosen a happy medium between prude and slut. She knew she had pulled it off, but that didn't stop her being nervous. She wasn't used to performing in such a crowded room, not liking the thought that someone she knew might be watching. Students were stomping all over the university cafeteria, carrying food and phones and textbooks, chatting, unworried. She found the right table and sat down.

The unhappy looking adolescent opposite watched her warily. He muttered an introduction and reached into his bag. The manila folder he withdrew looked more professional than Sarah was expecting. MATH283 was printed in big block letters, and beneath that her name. She peeked inside and saw a dozen or so pages crowded with text.

"The money?" the boy asked.

Sarah made one last survey of the flocks of people around her. Turned on her most radiant smile, looked the man straight in his faltering eyes, and leaned forward at an obliging angle.

"So, I was thinking...," Sarah started.

"I know what you're going to say. But we agreed."

She placed her hands on his clenched hands, her fingers soft on his.

"There's no way I could get a discount?"

He looked away, muttered something under his breath. She could feel the clamminess of the man's skin. He cleared his throat.

"What did you have in mind?"

------

I know you're reading these.

The cafeteria had nearly emptied, but Sarah remained alone at the table. Class was about to start but she didn't want to move. She opened up her camera roll on her phone, skimmed through the images of herself she found there. None of them seemed likely to induce a reply. The problem wasn't that her tits weren't perky enough, her figure not toned enough, her lips not beguiling enough. Instead, it was because... She paused, not wanting to give words to the thought. Her skimming ended on the first selfie she'd sent him, before she'd even thought of him that way. She was wearing a bikini in a changing room, bright yellow to match her mood that day. Beach just like we used to? Her back was arched, shoulders back, the curves of her slim body accentuated.

Outside in the sunlight there were people everywhere, some chatting, some jabbing pamphlets in her face, others smiling at things that could never possibly include her. She tried to not think about what she'd agreed to. She quickened her pace down the main avenue, floating through a sea of people, making eye contact with none of them. The maple trees spread their red-stained fingers overhead, where the pigeons squabbled and played.

All the way in distant C-block, she stiff-armed open the door of a bathroom and hurried into a cubicle. Licked the tip of her finger thrice before finally plucking apart the pages of the purchased coursework. Her throat was sore as she pored over the writing, she couldn't even tell if the answers written there were for the right assignment. Her bag was full of other things too, uniform for the university coffee stand she'd worked blearily at for 4 hours this morning, a novel unblemished by any hint of use, pages and pages of writing, her thoughts, sometimes of Aaron, sometimes of her parents. Writing about the people she loved gave them a solidity that helped, a place she could check on them and they'd still be there smiling back at her, obedient statues waiting in a dark room.

Sarah sat down and held her phone in trembling hands, but there still wasn't a response. Retrieved again the front page of her assignment, and using her knee as a desk, wrote her name and student ID. The letters looked small and childlike. She opened the front door of the bathroom and peeked out, but there was no-one approaching and only the faint murmur of nearby classrooms could be heard. Back in front of the mirror, Sarah sized herself up and tested out a bright smile. It worked. She looked good, and now she felt good. She'd send one more message before re-armouring herself completely, just one more moment of weakness.

Why are you punishing me.

----

"How much did you pay for it this time?" Maria asked with eyebrows raised. Sarah had dashed in to the class room late, paying reparations with a sheepish smile. Then dumped her assignment on the desk of the unappeased Mr Caldwell, and slunk to the back of the class where Maria awaited. Halfway through the hour, having already finished this week's problem set, Maria was beginning the inevitable probing. It would've pained Sarah to admit that Maria was her best friend, but there weren't really any other candidates. Sarah had had a 3 year gap between high school and college, opting out altogether from the social carousel of early adulthood. Instead working her skin raw in the back of some kitchen, then hopping up the chain to work eventually at front of house, where she stood proud and taut every night, blouse stiff, chin up.

That was where the founder of an events company noticed her, appraised her decorum, her neatly formed sentences, and of course her figure. As he had left, he had slipped her his card, and on the back, an invitation to apply for a job. What followed was 2 giddy years of travel, excitement and achievement. By the time the company had declared bankruptcy, Sarah had saved up a tidy sum, and her brother Aaron had graduated high school. None of the several career options open to her sang to her particularly melodiously, and with Aaron no longer dependent on her income, she decided instead to get an education. But things hadn't been so easy. Her pile of cash disappeared faster than anticipated and, whatever her talents were, they did not suit the classroom. And then there were the days when despite the strength she'd grown over the years, she still felt completely alone.

"Nothing actually," Sarah said. She smiled sweetly, immediately regretted it. Maria would take her satisfaction as invitation to query further. Sarah quickly returned to her textbook, where various squiggles and symbols clamoured. But they were mute, what could she expect having paid and scammed and wheedled her way through two years of Mathematics subjects. 5 minutes later, having unsuccessfully deployed and re-deployed armies of her own squiggles, Sarah was ready to give up. Up the front of the class, Mr Caldwell observed the rows of bowed heads with great satisfaction, his expired blond hair radiating outwards from his face. Leaning over, Maria crossed out an errant Theta, and the two sides were at last equally matched.

"Well, I can tell you didn't do the assignment yourself."

"Oh shut-up," Sarah snapped, over-loud. Two bowed heads turned to stare, but the rest of the class remained still.

"So how much did you pay then?"

"Nothing, I swear."

"Then what did you promise?"

"To meet him at his dorm on the weekend."

"And will you?"

"Of course. Otherwise he'll rat me out."

Maria mulled this over, her eyes still sparkling. The steady wumpfs of Caldwell's shoes alerted them, and the two girls whipped their heads around to the front. Caldwell stood there between the rows of desks, glaring, and the girls returned to their books.

"What will your man say?" Maria whispered quietly after a moment. Sarah resisted the itch to check her phone yet again.

"When he finds out I went on a totally innocent visit to a friend's dorm?"

"You did say he was the jealous type. You finally got your first boyfriend and now you're going to screw it up?"

Sarah paused. He was the jealous type. The image of him loomed in her mind, tall, broad, shrouded in darkness. Just as he was that first night, and the many subsequent nights he came to her, announcing his presence with a swift but silent yanking open of the door, then a patient, modular undressing. That first night it was his smell that identified him, and soon his taste - how could he have tasted any other way? That inevitable intoxicating tang, a transposed version of her own. He was bold, firm, unyielding, and she the reciprocal, pliant and receptive. They soon learnt though to explore different configurations of yin and yang.

Maria was staring at her.

"He can be," Sarah said. Her best friend scrunched up her lips and frowned.

"Stop hiding him from me! I want to meet him." Sarah allowed herself a small smile.

"He's always busy," she said vaguely. "I barely get to be with him myself."

"You're so annoying. So are you going to tell him or not?"

It was a good question. Sarah didn't actually know. He did get annoyed whenever she showed attention to other men. Not that he would ever admit it - he would deny it, quite skilfully in fact, telling her that she should feel free to interact with whoever she wanted, that he didn't want her to be his because he coerced her, but because she chose to. But every time she hugged a Male friend for just a little longer than necessary, every time she stumbled home late smiling just a little wider than purely female company was able to elicit, every time her insta posts became clogged with Male attention... he became more controlling, more brutal. Maria was still looking at her, eyes curious. Sarah dropped her eyes hurriedly.

"Umm I don't know. See you later this evening?"

"Will your brother be there?"

"You know you're not his type, right?" Sarah said a little more firmly than she'd intended.

"I'm everyone's type." Maria put on an exaggerated pout and fanned her eyelashes.

"He's not like that. He's only slept with one girl."

"Who can't possible compare with me!"

"So explain why he rejects you every time?"

"I clearly haven't been forward enough," Maria said brightly. Sarah rolled her eyes.

Mr Caldwell, having this time stealthily approached, suddenly rapped his pen on their desk, and the two girls jumped.

"Very interesting Ms Radulovic, you seemed to be trying to solve everything the hard way," he said, rotating his head, an accusing sunflower, to peer at her work. "Let's hope you've figured things out come exam time. I'll be very interested to see if your results there match your excellent assignment scores."

----

Maria dashed ahead up the steps and knocked on the door. Sarah, sighing, fished around for her key. Distracted, she tripped on the second to last stair and ended up knuckles down on the wood. A door opened somewhere just above.

"Hi Aaron," Maria cooed. Sarah, not for the first time, accidentally had an unobstructed view of what lay underneath her friend's short skirt. Standing tall in the doorway, Aaron craned his neck around Maria to look at Sarah as she lay there crumpled.

"OK down there sis?" Aaron was 2 years younger, but somehow always managed to be the calm one. Maria whirled around, overshot Sarah on first pass, found her eventually down there, and broke in to a hard, relieved laugh.

"She looks a bit awkward down there on her knees. Doesn't get much practice, I expect," Maria said, mouth curling. She turned again to look at Aaron, her body bouncing. "But I do!" she added brightly, and reached out to touch Aaron's arm. He coughed and faint pink tinge appeared on his face.

Inside, Sarah went to fetch some water, and by the time she returned to the living room, Maria had already claimed all the territory next to, around, and on top of Aaron. He looked uncomfortable sitting on the couch as her leg crept up and over his, but Sarah came to the rescue with a weighty clunking of the water jug on to the coffee table. Maria quickly pulled back with a gymnast flourish of limbs. Recovered, and began to prattle on about how lovely the apartment was, how organised Aaron must be (because of course Sarah wasn't one for cleanliness), how it was so unkind to have not invited her over until now, talking, so much talking with her girly voice and sparkly eyes. Sarah slumped in to an arm chair and tilted her head back. Aaron was too smart, she told herself, too centred, to fall for this. Please let him be too smart, too centred. She imagined for a moment Maria's pale legs, flashing like scissors, vaulting on top of his body, hands planted like stanchions on his chest, hair dangling thick. A red hot dagger ran through her.

"Aaron can we talk for a minute please?" Sarah could hear the desperation in her own voice. Aaron followed her down the hall, in to her bedroom. She shut the door, casting the room in a familiar gloom. She couldn't make out Aaron's face in the darkness, just his tall bulk, and her body shivered as it matched the pattern to another, very different occasion.

"If you're not going to respond to my messages, can you at least not let that girl slobber all over you?" The words came out half scold, half whisper. She stabbed a finger against his chest, but he grasped it quickly, gently with both his hands. Took hers and held it. His skin was cool and soft. She let her eyes begin to close over. For a second it looked like Aaron was going to raise her hand to his lips, but then his grip hardened, and his face became cold. He dropped her hand.

"I've told you how it has to be." He opened the door and in a moment was gone. Sarah let out a small sob, reached up to wipe her eye where a tear was threatening freefall. The area between her thumb and forefinger hurt, and she couldn't remember why. Brought it up to her face in the dim light, but couldn't make anything out. She began to cry properly, the tears splattering down.

It was a full 10 minutes before she emerged, after a detour to the bathroom and another emergency motivational seminar in front of the mirror. Maria and Aaron were sitting far apart on the couch now, and they were talking, Maria quite clearly on the attack.

"You can't imagine being with a woman who isn't your best friend?" she was saying.

"Why bother. Without a connection you may as well just watch porn."

Sarah stood silent on the threshold of the living room.

"No but that's just the point. People connect so much better without clothes on."

Aaron shrugged. "It doesn't interest me." He examined his fingernails.

"I would never do anything sexual with a friend. I couldn't take it seriously. Like you already see each other in a certain way... I would just laugh if they ever tried to put the moves on."

"Maybe you haven't found the right person then," he responded cooly.

"And you have?"

Aaron paused. "I don't know." He sounded genuinely uncertain.

"So there is someone?"

Before Aaron could respond, Sarah strode into the room.

"Go on Aaron, is there someone?" she asked.

He looked stonily back at her.

"While you were gone, Maria was telling me about your upcoming date this weekend," he said.

"What date?"

"Good point, it's not really a date is it."

"Jason is just a friend!"

"Oh you actually know his name?" Maria chimed in. She looked back and forth between the two siblings, feeding off what she saw.

"Drop it Maria," Sarah pleaded with her.

"Why? It's not like Aaron is going to dob you in to your boyfriend. What are you afraid of?"

"Boyfriend?" Aaron interjected.

"Your own brother doesn't know you have a boyfriend?"

"No, he most certainly does not," Aaron responded.

"It's nothing, I don't... forget it," Sarah mumbled.

"What's Maria talking about then?"

"Nothing, I made it up."

"Honey, the way your eyes light up when you talk about him... you didn't make anything up," Maria interrupted. The fury mounted within Sarah. This stupid interfering bitch, always there, in the way, trying to get Aaron to touch her disgusting, used up body. Aaron's eyes had narrowed to slits, lasers awaiting a fire command.

"Stop talking, right now, both of you," Sarah said, her voice steely. She stood, strode to the front door, and opened it.

"I want you to leave," she said. Turned and glared at Maria, who, after shooting an indignant glance at Aaron, shrugged, and hurried out of the apartment. Sarah didn't move, couldn't move, or take her eyes off the still open door, or do anything, just listen to the jagged stomping of Maria's descent. She wanted Aaron to say something, to come and hold her, but the minutes passed, and the entire building settled in to a silence. Rage, shame, and despair all squabbled for control of her body, but somehow hope emerged victorious from the melee. A small, quiet hope. Maybe... maybe he would...

Sarah's phone beeped and she jumped, whirling.

Aaron wasn't even in the room anymore.

Hey what the fuck was that? What are you not telling me? You get super weird about your brother, it's creepy.

She threw her phone to the floor.

The door to Aaron's room was closed, although a light flickered beneath. Sarah hesitated before it, but didn't knock. Instead went to her room and crawled underneath the covers. Sleep didn't come easily. After an hour she had calmed, considered even going to fetch her phone to try to redirect whatever speculation Maria had been indulging in. But would it even be the worst if she knew? If many people knew? Aaron would have nowhere to run to. He'd stick by her. Every day waking up in his arms, caring for him, growing with him. She let out a small whimper.

The apartment was totally silent now. The sheet was cool on her naked skin, tingling, her entire body responding with a giddy cunning to something that hadn't happened yet. It knew something that Sarah didn't. An anticipation was building within her, all the despair now gone. Again, she smelled him before she heard him. She didn't turn yet, knew that he needed privacy to make the final step. A minute passed, then came the rustling of cotton, and a pair of muffled stomps as he removed his clothes.

Sarah rolled over on to her stomach, propped on her thin elbows, extended her rear into the air. It felt nice to have her skin freed from any fabric. The image she must present, her pert ass, swelling out of the darkness, holes accessible, waiting for her man. Her stupid, principled man, who nonetheless was staring at her mesmerised. The thought was already causing her to moisten.

She turned her head to the side, seeing his dark large presence finally, and smiled. 'I knew you would still come. I don't know how, I just knew.' Her voice cracked with emotion as she talked. The mattress registered the impact of first one knee, then the second, then an agonizing pause, before she felt his hands on her thighs. They fidgeted across her skin, purposeless at first, but then faster, firmer, down the length of her body, reaching under to skim her breasts, arriving there at the same time his legs pressed against hers. His fingers curled into her flesh, once, twice, beckoning, and she raised herself properly on to her hands, arching her back.

"I lie there every night for hours thinking of you. You know this," Aaron finally replied in his soft voice.

"So why do you always make me wait. We could be having so much more fun." She gasped as his hands gripped her hips.

"So this is just about fun to you?"

"I didn't mean that."

Suddenly his hand was in her hair, taking the reins. He forced her head forward, her neck pulled back. A thrill ran through her.

"So what's it about then?"

She stayed silent, awaiting the inevitable escalation. His other hand reached underneath, and fingernails dug into her nipple. She managed to not cry out in pain.

"So what's it about then," he repeated. His mouth was next to her ear, and he spoke in soft slow tones.

"Ownership," she gasped.

"I want to hear you say it." He twisted her nipple now at the same time his grip on her hair tightened. This time she let out a whimper.

"I belong to you, big brother."

He released his various holds on her and kissed her ear softly. "Good girl", he said.