When I was younger, I would have said I wanted nothing more than to be with my friends.
Time and context shape wishes in life.
"Fresh," perked Ruby, entering Coral's bedroom ahead of our host, followed by Josh and me. The day was Friday, the first week of the winter school holidays, '72.
It rained as a regular occurrence every day. Furthermore, it drummed harder and faster this afternoon. We agreed to meet and have lunch at Coral's. Josh and I lagged as teenage holiday slackers. We arrived at Coral's after midday.
My best friend benefited from a bountiful life—courtesy of her corporate banking parents. She appreciated her advantages in life, though she was never smug about them. I never had to try to be Coral's buddy. We had been best friends since the age of six. Over time, we glued together—our mutual love of finery and refined detail.
Coral alone took the time to wait for my subdued responses. She accepted my quiet nature, especially where it blended into her concentrated silent sketching, which I adored watching.
Over the years, our troupe became regular visitors to Coral's home and her bedroom—Josh and I since primary school, and Ruby from high school. As frequently as we were there, our eyes often met a change in the vast house designed for entertaining.
Ruby's 'fresh' was echoed by Coral.
"Yes, fresh," said my bestie.
Her bedroom sported a new dual pastel pink paint job. Her large bed lay covered by a soft rainbow-designed doona. A tasteful addition that signalled a teenage room.
"Ah, they see you are growing up," piped Ruby as her hand spread over the quality of the cotton bed cover.
Yes, my childhood buddy had matured fast.
"Lucky you, my mum treats me as a child," a hint of petulance in the pixie's voice as she removed her denim jacket and dropped it on the floor.
"Yes, I got lucky," enthused Coral, "Mum and Dad recently made a stock killing, and I asked nicely and got my wish."
She picked up her girlfriend's jacket, folded it and placed it over her bedside chair.
My bestie's private space spread stylish even in my over-familiarity. Her bookshelf displayed bound classics. Not a show-piece; she was well-read—two trophies, not prominent on a shelf, only her most recent. She liked her display of soft toys; there was no embarrassment in revealing her cushy side. While her walk-in robe and en suite, the girl needed them. My friend was self-high maintenance without being brash.
By her bay window, I noticed a new sprawling, well-nourished maidenhair fern, a plush plant. The green hues of her indoor plants reminded me of Coral's favourite dress.
"Here or the games room," offered our host.
The house to ourselves; Coral's parents were at work.
"Here," I managed, surprising myself, choosing before Josh or Ruby.
My mind skeined; it joined Coral's hair, her room's new colour scheme, watermelon and Redon mauve pinks, and her indoor greenery.
"Nah," steered Josh, "The games room; eight-ball, come on."
He swung the door.
"No, the fresh has ambience," I said, sitting on the rug.
"Yeah," supported Ruby, "We stay; the vibe is good."
The brunette strayed to the window ledge, taking more than a passing interest in Coral's indoor plants.
"Well, we start here and finish in the games room for Josh."
And Coral took his hand and led him to her game's chest at the bottom of her bed. Ruby and I waited crossed-legged on the lavish sheepskin mat. It dominated the bedroom floor. Coral returned her arm around Josh; she held a pack of cards—a new pack, the cellophane wrap in place.
"Cards! A bit yesterday, sister; you can't copy me," quipped Ruby.
"Oh no, never, honey; I will push your limits and thrill Josh."
My bestie and her boyfriend plonked their butts on the rug. Coral cracked the seal and shuffled the new deck. Next, she dealt the cards out between us.
"Okay, you little miss; we are playing Strip Jack; to our underwear; hope you are wearing some."
"Who's the minx? I wouldn't leave the house without knickers."
Ruby fluttered her eyes at Coral. She rubbed her hands; her girlfriend had nicely upped her afternoon's excitement.
My face reddened as I chewed my lip, thankful for regular nags about changing my underwear.
"I've already checked, Josh. Luke, are you in!"
Coral asked considerately to make sure I was okay with the game.
Of course, I stammered a yes.
Boredom heaved out of our minds.
What clothes came off, reduced to pure luck?
Like Josh, I hoped Ruby and Coral would lose.
It takes time for Strip Jack to become interesting. Everyone has endless shoes and socks. Coral's house boasted central heating, so no one had more than a couple of items above their underwear. Josh lost clothes first, and he removed his polo. His chest revealed rudimentary hair. To the girls, he looked buff, and they concurred in a whisper.
I lost my polo next.
"You need some gym time," teased the brunette.
Coral patted my forearm, shook her head at Ruby, and added, "Shh!"
This got lost as Josh complained, "This is rigged. Only Luke and I are losing."
My bestie rolled her eyes as Josh got testy, "If I lose my pants or Luke does, it's game over."
Neither of us boys sat comfortably without a top.
Coral calmed us, "Did you think you would get lucky!"
She laughed and got us back into the fun.
It took another round to see a big smile on Josh's face, and my eyes widened!
You either love or hate cards, depending on how they fall.
It seemed to be a guy's dream run. Ruby lost.
We watched her hands go inside the top of her jeans. She lifted her top out.
"Yes," pitched high from a pumped Josh; I think he expected black lace underneath!
The brunette surprised us by undoing a slim black belt and flipping it across the room.
We played the next hand. Coral lost.
What was she going to take off? Her lime blouse or lemon skirt?
She chose the blouse. She opened it, button by button, to reveal her bra – no, a 'dang' camisole.
Ruby laughed and called her a cheat.
Coral twittered.
My, she glowed stunning.
Satin, I thought, and the thinnest of straps.
So tempting to reach out and touch.
Josh rubbed the ends of his fingers together.
My extra thought, no wonder Josh called her a perpetual tease.
My mate lost the next hand—game over as he refused to remove his jeans. Unlike Ruby, he wore no belt. He replaced his polo and excused himself to Coral's en-suite.
Ruby and Coral collapsed on the sheepskin. They laughed and kicked their legs high in the air.
I pulled my top back on and, lacking anything to do, eased over to Coral's window. Instead of looking out, I peeped backwards.
The girls were oblivious to my attentiveness to their bodies. Coral's chest heaved, encased in satin smoothness. Ruby's legs flung ajar; her jeans tight wrapped to her inner thighs. The brunette's fingers skirted the edge of Coral's camisole strap and lingered.
Taking a deep breath, I welcomed Josh's return. The girls on the rug play wrestled. Josh remained unconcerned by their closeness.
He grabbed me by the arm, and at the bedroom door, he said, " Coral, we are playing eight-ball."
I glanced back. The girls cackled and tussled arms and legs.
Josh whipped my butt twice before the girls came to the games room. Coral's blouse fluttered as her top two buttons remained undone. The girls strolled in, buddy-buddy, arm in arm, leaning over the eight-ball table.
"Boys, we are taking you on," swaggered Coral.
Ruby adjusted her ponytail.
Josh smirked, sure of victory as he chalked the cue. He racked hours playing against older guys like Max.
I wasn't a below-par player. Coral liked a social game; she understood the basics from mucking around with Josh. The brunette loomed as an unknown quantity at eight-ball.
Josh commenced cocky and let the girls break. Ruby played like she was born holding a cue, not a rattle. The brunette showed a steady hand and an angle mastery. The match ended one-sided as the pixie pocketed the black ball.
Josh clenched his cue stick before he slammed it into the wall rack.
"I forgot, I'm going to Max's," he abruptly informed Coral.
"Okay," replied my bestie, though she twisted her hair like it was new information.
In his rush to leave, he bumped past Ruby, teetering her petite frame to the wall.
He swept by Coral, whose proffered cheek kiss smacked into thin air.
Outside the games room door, we heard the front door bang!
Who was high maintenance?
"Cake," inquired Coral to Ruby and me, wringing her hands and muttering to herself and maybe us, "I'll sort Josh out later."