Boyfriend in a Dress by Louise Kean Read Free Book Online

trying to lick my shoulder after I’d had a shower, were not genuine affection, but a twisted theatre on her behalf. But again she would hear none of it.
    And her fury only grew.
    The room itself was the usual testament to the authorities who believed that if they treated us like kids we’d act like them and not have sex. We had bunk beds.
    The beds were ‘debunked’ upon my request – they were too high to jump down from, particularly if, like me, youhave weak netball ankles caused by a thousand sprains from the ages of eight to eighteen. Besides, I just don’t think bunk beds are dignified at twenty-one, especially if you have an overnight guest. The likelihood of serious injury during any kind of sexual experimentation is increased at least tenfold. Joleen grudgingly agreed. My bed was still higher than hers, as it was the top bunk, the one with the longer legs, the one that would have suspended me six feet in the air given the chance. Now I could jump easily down to the floor by putting my foot on the wood of the end of her bed. This was the piece of wood where the metal rod would slot in a hole in the centre to connect the two beds when they were in their naturally ‘bunked’ state. This was the hole I stepped on nearly every day with bare feet as I climbed out of bed. This was the hole that Joleen chose to put an upright compass in, without my knowledge, which I missed by a fraction, and at the very last minute, one day while she was at lectures. I don’t need to say the word ‘freak’, but I will.
    I tried to talk to Dale about it as well. One afternoon, early in my stay, I arrived back at the room to find Dale lying seemingly asleep on Joleen’s bed. I tip-toed across the room, annoyed at myself for not confronting the situation, for being quiet on his behalf, and in truth I just couldn’t be arsed to wake him. But he wasn’t asleep.
    ‘Hmmm, you’re back, I knew I could smell you.’
    ‘Dale, it’s not Joleen, it’s me,’ I laughed, pretending he’d made a mistake.
    I saw his lids open slightly.
    ‘Joleen doesn’t smell like vanilla and baby moisturizer.’ He was speaking so quietly that the air in the room was suddenly saturated with an intimacy I didn’t like.
    ‘Oh right. Sorry.’ I was becoming increasingly cross with myself for not telling him to stop, but I didn’t want an argument.
    Dale’s half-open eyes closed again, and I kicked off my boots. I decided to go straight back out, to my friend Jake’s room, and reached under my bed for my slippers.
    ‘I can’t think of anything more wonderful right now than if you just curled up here with me, pressed yourself into my chest.’
    He was testing my limits. I took a deliberate step towards the door, to put a decent amount of distance between us, and turned to fiddle with something on my desk.
    ‘Look, Dale, I don’t really appreciate you saying stuff like that.’ It sounded half-hearted, but I still barely knew him, and you don’t shout at people you barely know. I was interrupted.
    ‘I bet your neck tastes like ice cream.’
    ‘Dale, enough!’ I turned to face him, but he kept his eyes closed. ‘I’m serious, stop it! You’re being a prick. I don’t want to have to get you banned from the hall, but I will.’
    ‘I’ve stopped. I’m just trying to get some sleep.’ And somehow he made me feel like the fool.
    ‘Oh whatever.’ I dumped the contents of my bag onto the bed to find my keys and cigarettes. The room was quiet now.
    He mumbled and I ignored it. But then I heard it again, a little louder, and I distinctly heard the word ‘nipple’.
    ‘Jesus, when do you stop?’
    ‘Can I help it if I talk in my sleep?’ His eyes were still closed, but there was a smile creeping across his face.
    ‘Who says they talk in their sleep, in their sleep?’
    ‘Touché.’ He smiled. And I erupted.
    ‘I will never be interested in you, you tiny little man! You’re making me feel uncomfortable in my own room, and that’s not