Nobody's Fantasy Read online

  Jane’s house isn’t big and fancy. It’s a grey and white Craftsman with a deep front porch and a well-maintained garden which slopes down towards the street. From the looks of it, it can’t have more than two bedrooms and I wonder if anybody else lives there apart from Jane and her brother? It’s got unobstructed views of the ocean which means it must have been crazy expensive to buy or rent. I figure Jane’s in her early twenties and her brother must be four or five years younger. If it’s just the two of them, how can they afford such a property?

  I’ve noticed that Jane only comes down to the beach when it’s likely to be empty and so I checked the forecast before I left this morning to make sure the ocean would be calm. When she comes down the steps a few minutes later, I can tell she’s surprised to see me.

  She’s wearing a faded Seattle F.C. t-shirt with her leggings and trainers again and she’s tied her long, inky-black hair up in a messy bun. She looks gorgeous.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks warily.

  I don’t want her to think that I pity her – I know how much I hate that – so I lie. “My prosthetic’s being playing up…” I lay on the guilt trip. “I think the salt water might have damaged it so I’m not feeling all that steady. I thought I might as well wait until you came along and I could lean on you to cross the road. You owe me anyway for nearly gifting my expensive leg to somebody in Tahiti.”

  I’ve never made so many references to my prosthetic while talking to a gorgeous girl before. I’m not ashamed of it – I don’t feel like less of a man or anything because I’m missing part of my leg.

  It probably makes me sound pathetic but it works. “I guess.” I can sense Jane’s relief that she has somebody to look after her even if it’s just for the duration of crossing the road.

  When we cross the road, Danny’s at the juice stand but he pretends not to notice us.

  “Don’t you ever get hot in those things?” I ask, looking down at Jane’s ugly-ass trainers.

  “Nope,” she shakes her head.

  She walks down to her regular spot on the beach and I know it’s selfish of me but I want to spend more time with her.

  It’s another hot day and I can see the damp patches on the backs of her knees. “Why do you keep yourself so covered up?”

  Jane frowns, “you know why and before you give me any stick about it, let me remind you that you don’t exactly walk around in board shorts every day either, mister.”

  “You’ve got me there but I can’t exactly wear shorts to work.” OK, I totally could, the Ink isn’t the kind of place to implement a strict dress code.

  “You’ve got a job?” Jane splutters.

  “Thanks a lot for the vote of confidence, hot stuff. I’m not a total bum, you know.”

  Jane seems to sag at that. I kick myself when I realise that I don’t know her situation.

  “Seattle F.C.?” I sit down next to her on the beach. “They are a soccer team, right?”

  I thought that changing the subject would be a good thing but Jane seems even more closed off now. “Yeah.”

  “You like soccer, huh?” I mirror Jane, staring off at the horizon. I don’t know what she’s thinking but I’m wondering when I lost my game? Even with my prosthetic, I’ve always done OK with the ladies but with Jane, I just can’t seem to impress her.

  LOLA

  I’m flattered by the attention. Zev’s gorgeous and I haven’t dated at all since Noah and I broke up after the accident. But then he has to go and remind me that he might not be a beach bum but I definitely am. I don’t have any of the things I’d thought I’d have by now. I don’t have a career or even any idea about what I want to do with my life. Nada.

  Before the accident, my mum used to enjoy telling people the story of my first Christmas. After we’d opened our presents, she came back into the lounge and my dad was already teaching me how to score goals using balled-up wrapping paper and an empty cardboard box. My dad was a professional footballer for Manchester Rovers in the Premier League and then Seattle F.C. in the MLS. He even played for England in the World Cup. When I was a little girl, I was absolutely determined that I was going to be just like him when I grew up, all I ever wanted to do was play football.

  My ex-boyfriend, Noah… yeah, I try not to think about him very often because it makes me want to punch my fist into a wall and I’m already missing toes and most of my calf so I can’t really risk losing any more limbs. He loved football too. I don’t know why I’m talking about him in the past tense – I’m sure, even though I haven’t talked to him since I woke up in the hospital after the accident, he still loves football. His dad played for Manchester Rovers alongside mine and I’ve known him since I was born. Even when my family moved to Seattle and his moved to Melbourne in Australia, we still e-mailed and Skyped all the time.

  Do you want to know a secret? My name isn’t really Jane. Well, it is and it isn’t – it’s technically my middle name. My full name is Lola Jane Warner. My parents got married in Las Vegas after they found out that my mum was pregnant with me hence why my first name’s Lola. I was named after the Barry Manilow song and although my brother has gone along with calling me Jane because how can you say no to a girl who’s only got five toes, he jokes that Lola actually suits me better. When he’s feeling particularly annoying, he likes to hum the tune. He’s even taken to calling my missing toes, ‘Tony’. He thinks that I’m sat at the proverbial bar still in my feathers and sparkles (my Seattle F.C. t-shirt) drinking my sorrows (bottled water) thinking about how I’ve lost my love (I’m really hoping he knows that it was football and not Noah) and my Tony. I think I’ve mentioned before that he’s weird, I mean who goes into that much detail analysing song lyrics?

  But despite what Mats might think, Lola’s gone and she isn’t coming back.

  OK, so here’s what happened… Lola was a talented young footballer who was walking back from CVS to the hotel where she was staying with her boyfriend, Noah. Earlier that night, they’d had a big farewell dinner with their families, who’d flown to Miami for their graduation ceremonies. The next morning, Lola and Noah were supposed to fly to London where they both had offers from football clubs. They were holding hands and laughing at something Lola’s younger sister, Sierra had said at dinner.

  Fortunately, I don’t remember anything after the squeal of the brakes but according to the police report, the bastard whose divorce had been finalised that afternoon and thought he’d drown his sorrows with vodka and then get behind the wheel of his truck – big surprise – lost control and mounted the kerb and Noah, always such a gentleman, ducked behind a stone pillar leaving poor Lola to take the full impact.

  So Lola died that night, leaving behind poor, tragic Jane. Jane can’t play football anymore and she doesn’t have a boyfriend; she’s just blank space.

  ZEV

  When I look over at Jane, I can see that the sadness is back in her big, black eyes. “Go on a date with me,” I say before I can stop myself.

  “What?” she splutters. “You’re crazy. I don’t even know you.”

  “Hence why you should say yes and go on a date with me, hot stuff.”

  “No,” Jane stands up and brushes the sand off her leggings. “You shouldn’t want to go on a date with me. I’m dark and twisty and I’m deformed.” She wiggles her right leg as if to prove her point. I might not like the fact that she’s covering herself up so much but I like the fact that she wears leggings all the time because she’s got sexy legs and when her t-shirt rides up, I can see her cute bottom.

  “Hey,” I stand up too. “If you think you’re deformed, at least you’ve got a calf and foot. I’ve only got half a leg. We can be dark, twisty and deformed together over dinner.”

  Jane rolls her eyes, “oh please, there is nothing remotely dark and twisty about you.”

  I frown, thinking about what caused me to be in Jane’s words “deformed.” She’d be surprised.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Jane scowls. “I’m going home
.”

  “I’ll pick you up at seven, hot stuff.”

  LOLA

  “Honestly, she’s good,” Mateo insists when he’s talking to Mum on the phone. I’m lying on the couch tossing popcorn up in the air and trying to catch it in my mouth. He looks across at me and even though he’s the sweetest guy in the whole world, I can tell from the mischief in his black eyes what he’s about to do but unfortunately I’m not quick enough to wrestle the phone away from him. “She’s actually got a date tomorrow night.”

  “I’m going to kill you,” I mouth, thinking of how I’m definitely going to find some dead animals to put in his food.

  “Mum wants to talk to you,” Mats smiles as he hands over the phone. Of course she does.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I grimace. I wriggle so I’m sitting up straight because even though she’s all those miles away, I’m convinced she can tell that I’m sprawled out on the couch with popcorn kernels all over my t-shirt.

  “Mats says you’ve got a date tomorrow night?” And this is why I didn’t want him to say anything, I can hear how excited she is for me. It’s only going to make it that much harder when I have to call her in a couple of days and tell her that the date was a disaster because I wasn’t lying when I said to Zev that I’m dark, twisty and deformed, I am.

  There’s nothing I want to do less than hurt her. I remember when I woke up after the accident and she was sleeping in a chair by the side of my bed. Dad told me afterwards that she’d refused to leave my side even for a minute.

  She asks me about Zev and I realise that I can give her this tiny little bit of normality. I can pretend for a couple of minutes that I’m normal again and this date has the potential to be anything other than a complete disaster.

  After we’ve chatted for a while, she passes the phone to my dad and I want to laugh at how gruff he sounds, “Mum says you’ve got a date tomorrow?” I totally get why it’s a big deal to them – I haven’t dated at all since the accident.

  “Yeah, it’s no big deal, just dinner.”

  “Has your brother met him?”

  “What?” I’m sure my eyes bug out of my head, “we’re not living in the dark ages, Dad.”

  He insists so I reluctantly pass the phone back over to Mats, who’s been munching on popcorn and watching me this whole time.

  Mats looks so serious, I’m sure Dad’s expecting him to give Zev the Spanish inquisition and then report back to him tomorrow. It makes me laugh thinking about my sweet, baby brother trying to interrogate Zev.

  “Thanks for that,” I shove Mats when he finally puts the phone down. “Mum’s probably already picking out china patterns for our wedding while Dad’s hiring a private investigator.”

  “They’re not that bad,” Mats says, reaching for another handful of popcorn, “they just want to feel like normal parents even though they’re all those miles away.”

  “They’re the ones that asked me to come and look after you.”

  “Yeah, right,” Mats laughs. “I can’t believe you fell for that. I don’t need looking after. I’m the most responsible member of this family.”

  ZEV

  It’s kind of weird actually venturing up the steps to the front door instead of standing at the bottom and waiting for Jane to come down but I figure since this is our first official date, I’ll do the gentlemanly thing. She doesn’t strike me as too girly so I wasn’t sure if I should bring flowers or not but my sister, Maggie told me I was being a butthead, you should always bring a girl flowers.

  When Jane answers the door, I’m glad I listened to my sister because her eyes light up when she sees the bouquet of plumerias. She looks stunning in a long, blue dress and black strappy sandals. She’s pinned her black hair up and there are just a few tendrils framing her sweet face.

  She wants to put the flowers in a vase before we go so she invites me in to the house. Jane’s brother, Mateo, is stood at the kitchen counter, pressing a slab of tofu.

  While Jane goes upstairs to get her handbag, I make small talk with Mateo.

  “If you even think about hurting my sister, I will come after you,” he says quietly. I appreciate that he’s so protective of his sister but I have to laugh at the idea of him hurting me. He’s so lanky, the only chance he’d have would be if he attacked me with one of the thick textbooks he’s got stacked up on the counter.

  “You don’t need to worry, Mats,” Jane pats his shoulder. “If he tries anything, I can defend myself. I still remember what Rocco and Luca taught me all those years ago and he’s only got one leg.”

  “Hey,” I scowl because nobody wants to be reminded of their shortcomings when they’re about to go on a date with a gorgeous girl. “We haven’t even left your house yet and you’re already insulting me.”

  “No, I wasn’t,” Jane insists. “I was being factually correct. You have only got one leg. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, it’s just a thing.”

  “So you wouldn’t get pissed off if I said your leg looked like a half-eaten turkey leg?”

  Jane’s eyes spark fire at me. “Of course I’d be angry if you said that. That’s not factually correct, it’s just cruel.”

  I watch as she moves behind the counter so I can’t see her legs anymore. “Jane?”

  She turns her back on me, “get lost Zev, I can’t even look at you right now.”

  After she’s gone back upstairs, Mateo gives me this look that says he’s about to try and kick my ass on behalf of his sister. Before he can make a move though, I stop him. “Did you see that?”

  He looks confused, “did I just see you make my sister feel like garbage?”

  “No,” I shake my head, “did you see how feisty she was?”

  “Do you blame her?” he’s looking at me as if I’ve suddenly grown two heads.

  “It was stunning.” I’m still kind of in awe to be honest. I’m sorry for what I said but definitely not why I said it. I would much rather Jane be pissed off at me than see her sad and lost like she was that first day at the beach.

  Mateo rolls his eyes but he doesn’t look like he wants to punch me anymore so I can tell he understands. “You two are crazy.”

  LOLA

  After my aborted first date with Zev, when I wake up the next morning I thought I’d feel sad and hermit-like again but maybe I’m a masochist or something because the fact that somebody else had finally acknowledged that what was left of my leg and foot did look hideous was actually kind of freeing.

  When I look out of my window, I can tell that it’s going to be another hot day but the forecast says that the ocean’s going to be calm again in this part of Oahu and I can’t be bothered wearing my padded leggings and trainers again. I’m fed up of trying to hide my injuries so I don’t offend anybody; today at least I’m going to let it all hang out. I pull on a pair of denim cut-offs and a white tank top and feeling particularly brave, I grab the wooden cane I have to use if I don’t wear my specially designed shoes.

  The tarmac is so hot against my bare feet – I’ve got my sandals stashed in my bag – I’m not as stressed out about crossing the road as usual.

  I’m almost past the juice stand when I hear Zev, “looking good, hot stuff.”

  I flip him the bird and carry on walking down the beach. “Half-eaten turkey leg, my ass.”

  After a swim – it’s kind of pathetic that I’ve lived in Hawaii for so long and I haven’t swum in the ocean before now – I walk back towards the road. Danny’s taken over from Zev at the juice stand and I tell myself that I’m not disappointed.

  It’s a reminder that everybody apart from me has a purpose in life, a reason to get up in the mornings. Danny and Zev have jobs, Mats has his studies.

  I check my watch, Mats won’t be back for a couple of hours and I want something more substantial than the herbal teas he likes so much.

  I’m really glad tourists haven’t discovered this little part of Oahu yet. The small row of shops isn’t busy so Tony and I don’t get any stares. I’ve never been in th
e coffee shop before but the smell of freshly roasted beans makes me quicken my pace.

  “Hi,” the girl behind the counter looks up as I cross the threshold. She’s got awesome bright-blue hair tied back in a ponytail. “I’m Vada. What can I get for you today?”

  “Just a black coffee, thanks.”

  “So…” I drum my fingers on the countertop and look around at the coffee shop but there aren’t any other customers. “Vada, huh? That’s a cool name.”

  “Ha,” she laughs, “I was named after a character in an 80’s kids film.”

  “It’s better than being named after a Barry Manilow song, I’m Lola.” Damn it, as soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. I’m not Lola anymore, I’m tragic Jane.

  “Is something wrong?” Vada asks.

  “I forgot for a second that I changed my name when I moved here, I was Lola, I’m now Jane.”

  “I won’t tell anybody you slipped up,” Vada smiles, “but it sounds like there’s a story there.”

  Apart from Mats and Zev, I haven’t talked to anybody else since I moved to Hawaii and I’ve forgotten how good it feels.

  I expect her to sympathise after I’ve told her about my nightmare non-date with Zev. “You were trying to sabotage the date before it even started,” Vada comments as she wipes down the counter.

  That wasn’t what I’d been expecting at all. Where was the sisterly solidarity, all men are jerks speech? “What makes you say that?”

  “Why else would you bring up his leg like that?”

  “Ugh, I wasn’t trying to insult him. I was just explaining to Mateo that I could defend myself if anything happened.”

  “OK,” Vada says knowingly.

  “Isn’t it just bartenders that are supposed to be amateur psychologists?”

  “My mom’s a psychologist, it’s kind of in the genes,” Vada laughs. “Let me ask you a question though, do you like Zev?”