In the morning I lay in bed and stared at the light drizzle through my bedroom window. The glossy leaves of a hibiscus were pressed up against the pane, forcing rain rivulets to take detours. Inside me, tranquility and anxiety alternated like two sides of a spinning coin. Exactly who had yielded to whom? Cain’s dark water eyes and scarred flesh were the visuals to the soundtrack of his voice in my head. I wanted to be with him right at that moment, to hear more about him, and feel his touch again. When I went back tonight the other three would be there. It was so damn frustrating to have to share him.
That thought brought me round to Jude. Ugh. I felt bad about him ... although not quite bad enough to regret what had happened with Cain. If anything, I regretted that I’d ever gone out with Jude. I went back over those ‘dates’ with my old friend, trying to remember if I’d done anything that would make this thing with Cain especially painful for Jude. I couldn’t recall more than a few tame outings and a little hand-holding, at least until the night of the kiss in the anti-chamber. But he’d already backed off from me by then, hadn’t he? He’d stopped asking me out and messaging me. That episode in the dark room was just me making a last-ditch effort to disrupt things. Jude must know that.
I had friends who’d done much worse than this. I remembered the time Marnie confessed dumping her boyfriend of nine months over the phone after meeting a hot guy at a party and spending the weekend in bed with him. That was way worse, wasn’t it? Jude and I had gone on a couple of dates per week over maybe a month, with no kissing or I love you’s. We never shared anything more than a friendship. I rationalized it but, in the end, hurting Jude was a regret. At the blurred outer perimeter of my mind, somewhere I couldn’t see very clearly, there were more regrets. Nameless things, or maybe things I didn’t want to name. Every time one got too close I chased it away by thinking of Cain. Those eyes. His scar. I embraced my obsession.
When I finally got up Albion was multitasking in the lounge room with his nail polish, television, and laptop.
“Hey, it’s the naughty Francesca,” he greeted me. Seeing I was dressed for college, he added, “How’s the study going?”
“It’s not. I can’t focus.”
“You passing?”
“I think so.”
“Got any assignments at the moment?”
“Economics. Select an economic model and discuss how it would affect contemporary economy and society if it were to be adopted.”
“Easy.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not easy. It requires me to think.”
“Know what I had to study at Saint David’s? Latin. Beat that.”
“You studied Latin?” I eyed him thoughtfully. “Can you translate something for me?”
“Probably,” he said. “Is it short? I can’t be bothered working on anything long.”
“Two words. Adsero nos.”
Albion squinted. “Do ‘something’ to ‘us.’ I don’t know adsero but the structure says it’s a verb and it is being done to someone, and the nos means ‘us.’ I’ve got a Latin dictionary on that shelf there.” I fetched it for him. “What was it? Adseo?”
“Adsero. A – D – S – E – R – O.”
“Okay. Uh ... here it is. To protect. So, adsero nos means ‘protect us.’”
I was unable to disguise my shock. Albion cocked his head to one side.
“What’s up, Frankie?”
“Nothing.” I avoided his gaze and headed for the kitchen.