Wicked Desire

2: New day

Clodagh

The sound of the bin men making their rounds started the day bright and early at 7 am. With a warm cup of coffee and blankets wrapped around me head to toe, it was a little earlier than usual, and my puffy eyes fluttered open and closed like a baby doll. 

I had the most amazing dream about the beach, the same recurring dream that I don't want to wake up from. It was the beach where I grew up on the north coast of Ireland, running through the sand dunes, getting ice cream from Mullin's ice cream van, everybody in swimsuits and bodyboarding at the slightest glimpse of the sun; even if it was arctic cold, which it always felt like. 

I can't remember much from the dream, I just remember sitting in the dunes feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin and watching the waves come in. It was so peaceful. My lungs filled with the sea air in time with the rise and fall of the waves. And with a crash, it was over. Dammit.

It was a miserable morning, rain lashing and hitting my window like tiny bullets, shivering as I walked to the kitchen. My flatmates have an affinity with the concept of not cleaning as every morning there seems to be more clutter and stains everywhere. After a quick clean up I took my coffee and yogurt back to my room while I finished off some reading for a university lecture in an hour.

All of a sudden I hear stumbling down the stairs. It's far too early for someone else to be awake in this house of nocturnal animals. Then a boy pops into view taking me quite by surprise in our all-girls house. "Good Morning Madam" he slurs, I'm not sure if it was alcohol from the night before or the earliness of the hour. "Don't mind me just passing through" he says as he stumbles around my door frame. "Oh um, no worries... sorry but is there a reason a strange boy is poking his head into my room?" I said quizzically while amusingly sipping my coffee.

Before he could answer my flatmate Izzy comes into view completely red in the face and giggling looking between me and her mystery man. "Ah you've met um, you've met..." she trails off. 

Jesus, she doesn't even know his name. 

"Dylan, nice to meet you," he says concealing his laughter and holding out his hand for a handshake. "Well that's lovely um... I'll see you later then Dylan, it's truly been a blast!" She really just wants this guy to leave, she's practically pushing him out the door. As he attempts to say something as a smooth closing line she locks the door in his face and we burst out laughing.

"So is this number 3 or 4 of the week, Izzy? Tell me, how do they all rank so far." I said with a smug smile all over my face. "Oh shut up, not all of us are Mother Teresa 'epitome of what is pure in the world' girls like you." She said poking me in the shoulder as she made her way to sit on the end of my bed. I could smell the alcohol on her from last night. "I guarantee the day you get railed, you will fall down this same addictive hole my friend." "What hole are we talking about exactly? you're hole? my hole? the metaphorical deep dark hole of life in which we fall and never get out of?" my nose scrunched up as I flashed her a sarcastic, pessimistic insight. "Christ, what is in your coffee?" She smiled and snatched it from my hands.

We both laughed and she took me through all the excruciating details that, to be honest, I may not have needed. But she was so enthusiastic I couldn't stop her and to be frank, it was all an education for me as I absorbed every single word completely fascinated by what some people really get up to in the sheets. And Izzy isn't exactly a missionary girl...I believe one time she woke up in somebodies bed with two other girls, two men, and curiously, an abundance of rubber ducks. I learned not to ask. 

Leaving the house through the rain wasn't a great start to the day, but after a few seminars, a trip to the library, and very essential espressos, I arrived home around 3 pm with a ridiculous amount of pastries and bread. One can never have enough maple pecan twists.

Everyone came down for dinner as we all scrambled to prepare food on top of each other in our little cramped kitchen. The others broke out the wine while I stuck to my Fanta. It's a little boring and they don't let me hear the end of it, but to me, wine tastes like some rotten grapes and olives in a glass. And maybe that's your thing, but I think I'll stick to soda.

I watched them all in adoration with my knees tucked up to my chest as we gossiped and laughed at the adventures of Izzy's wonderous evening with Dylan.

Lizzie handed me the salt and pepper, she is a gorgeously tall blonde. Her boyfriend is over every weekend and they both look straight out of a photo shoot. Damn their symmetrical faces. she is studying fashion and spends most of her time restoring old clothes and creating new things from old things in a recycling campaign she is championing.
Issy has her hair dyed a rusty color and is a short petite girl. She studies history, so she spends most of her time arguing about the fact that the Russians are the reason for the allies winning WW2, and then we all start arguing because we think she is a secret Russian spy trying to indoctrinate us. 
Ava is relatively quiet, she goes to parties and is always saying yes to social occasions but she likes to listen and observe mostly and stays out of the front line. I love her for it because when I am out with her we always stick together blending into the background. Being a wallflower is fun when you have a friend. She is more curvaceous than the others, and she has the most amazing long black hair I've ever seen and always jokes that if her law degree fails her she can become a hair model for Pantene adverts. What a career change, making her parents proud.

I on the other hand have a more natural look compared to the others. Curly dark brown hair just above my shoulders, and a pale complexion. I never really wear makeup, with the exception of mascara to enhance my sky-blue eyes ever so slightly. I've always yearned to be athletic and completely flat everywhere but unfortunately, I've inherited curves from somewhere. I don't like to show it off much so my wardrobe mainly consists of jeans, denim skirts, and oversized sweaters, in an attempt to hide as much as I can without looking like I'm wearing my brother's clothes.

I like it this way, I've always managed to escape the attention of boys, most of them can't take their eyes off the exposed legs and tight tops of other girls so I'll gladly stick to my sweaters.

Eventually, we all dispersed after a few laughs and catching up on Issy's promiscuity. It was only 8 pm but I went back to my room and opened my back window to the garden to enjoy the summer evening as the sun was going down, shining through my room with a golden glow. It was such a beautiful contrast from the miserable rain of the morning. The day couldn't have turned out better.