Supermarket Romance Part 3

Chudleigh Angus and the Lost Ark

This is the conclusion for our hero’s adventures. You can catch up on the previous eps: Supermarket Romance and Chudleigh Angus Strikes Back

Chudleigh paused outside the open roller door of the rock climbing gym. Walls reaching high into the roof of the warehouse made him crane his neck. Across each wall was spattered different coloured shapes like a giant Hundreds and Thousands biscuit.

The palms of his hands moistened with sweat and his stomach made a protest against the idea of climbing. Chudleigh wondered if a boulder would come rolling out of the roof and chase him out of the building if he failed to successfully climb.

“What I wouldn’t give for a fedora and a bullwhip.”

The noise of the gym threatened to overwhelm him. He was unsure of everything: his ability to climb, how things would go with Andy. Nothing felt secure. To take a step into the gym invited a wall of spikes to shoot out and pin him to the opposite wall.

“Hey ya, Chudleigh.”

Andy walked up beside him dressed in three-quarter black leggings and a grey hoodie, a backpack slung across her shoulder.  “Come on. Let’s get you climbing.”

Looping her arm into his, she ushered him towards the front counter.

At the counter, Chudleigh mentally debated the etiquette of this date/meet up/study break. Should he pay for Andy? What was the protocol as there was no precedent? Andy produced her wallet, flashed a card at the attendant and handed over some cash. He was about to protest when Andy broke in. “Seeing as this is your first time, I’ll shout you.” Her smile was warm and genuine.

“Cool. But I owe you one.”

The attendant handed over a harness to Chudleigh.

“Grab the harness by the sides, like a pair of pants, and put the Harbour Bridge at the front,” he said, pointing at a loop. “You put your legs through, pull the straps tight on your waist first, then your legs. And be careful how you pack your lunch.”

Chudleigh frowned.

“You don’t want to squash your frank and beans, man.”

“Gotcha.”

With a little wrangling, Chudleigh wiggled the harness over his hips and pulled it tight around his waist. Breathing and climbing didn’t seem mutually compatible. Adjusting the frank and beans, he tightened the leg straps and was horrified to see the accentuation of his crotch. He pulled his jacket low to rearrange his shorts.

Next to him Andy unpacked a pair of climbing shoes and harness. Removing her hoodie she wore a crop top and loose fitting sleeveless t-shirt. Chudleigh noticed the musculature of her arms and inwardly winced at the flabby mess of his own.

Attaching a chalk bag to the rear of her harness, Andy looked at Chudleigh. “Ready?”

His mouth said “Yes,” as his mind screamed a soundless “NOOOOOOOOOO.”

“Do you want to go first?” Andy asked.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll let you go first and see how it’s done.”

“Right, time for that overhang. Haven’t quite managed to get to the end.”

Chudleigh followed Andy towards the overhang. Andy grabbed the tethered rope and reached for Chudleigh’s harness, a little above his framed crotch. She snapped the carabineer through the loop.

“As I climb all you do is pull the rope through and pull it down to the side to lock it off. That way it won’t slip through your hands.”

“What if you fall?”
“I trust you,” she said whacking his shoulder with her open palm in blokey affection.

Andy approached the wall, looked behind her to Chudleigh who nodded and began scurrying up. With a few athletic manoeuvres she was half way up the wall.

Looking up he was suddenly embarrassed. From his vantage point he had a great view of her behind. Her right leg stretched to a small foothold with her left leg pulled up beneath her. He could even see the outline of her underwear. There was nowhere else to look but up so he focused on watching Andy’s hands and feet. Her movements were graceful and precise.

Soon she was at the join of the wall and the overhang. His hands moistened with sweat, nervous for Andy. He made sure to keep the rope locked off tightly.

With practiced grace, Andy moved from hold to hold, suspended high in the air. With a triumphant “whoop” Andy reached the end of the overhang, grabbed the last hold and swung her legs down. Chudleigh was smitten before but now he was truly in deep smit.

Descending like an angel Andy was all smiles. She bounced over to Chudleigh and gave him a hug.

“Been trying that for months. Just brilliant. Your turn.”

“What do I do?” asked Chudleigh staring at a new wall of hundreds and thousands.

“Follow the green holds. They’re the easiest. It’s like climbing a ladder.”

The vertical ascent loomed above him. Grasping the first green hold Chudleigh hoisted himself up.

“Use your legs rather than your arms,” said Andy.

Moving from hold to hold he gained confidence and was soon at the top.

“Slap the girder and I’ll bring you down.”

Lifting a fraction further, Chudleigh slapped the girder and played the theme to “Raiders of the Lost Ark” in his head, imagining having successfully replaced the golden idol but he still had to reach the ground. Andy called up instructions.

“Sit back in your harness and place your feet on the wall. As I bring you down, use your feet to walk down.”

Elated with his success he moved to lean back but his footing slipped. His face made contact with the wall, bouncing him into space.

He could feel himself being lowered to the ground but he was only worried about the blood coming from his nose and the lump forming above his eyebrow. Reaching the ground floor he was guided to a seat and an icepack applied to his aching face.

In his head Chudleigh chastised himself for such a stupid action. What a way to impress Andy.

Taking the ice pack off his bruised nose, Chudleigh touched it gingerly and winced at the tenderness. At least the blood had stopped flowing yet the lump above his eyebrow rose up.

“It feels like an egg,” said Chudleigh.

“It doesn’t look that bad. By the way, great attempt at your first climb.” Andy said it without sarcasm. “Want to give it a go again?”

“Perhaps not so soon. How about next time we go somewhere that doesn’t involve me smacking my nose on rocks? A movie perhaps, and I’ll pay?”

Andy became coy, her confidence faltering slightly. She looked at Chudleigh warmly.

“That would be lovely,” she said resting her hand on his knee.

“Does this mean we get to be facebook friends now?”

Leaning forward she kissed him on the cheek.

“And you can add that as your status update.”

Comic Superhero Episode 14: Dangerous Liaisons

Previously in Comic Superhero…

Andrew’s infatuation with Emily grew deeper and deeper following the party.  When he should have been studying he was surfing facebook to find pictures of Emily from that night.  A sudden text message from Emily broke him from his reverie.  It was an ultimatum to meet her at the coffee shop.  Alone…

With phone in one hand, Andrew looked quickly from left to right and back again, closing the lid on his laptop.  He wondered if someone was watching him, spying his perving on Emily.  Every instinct told him to give Jackson the head’s up, let him know what was about to happen but he resisted.

“How the hell did she get my number?” he asked himself aloud.

It was a nervous wait for Andrew.  It was too long to simply shrug it off but close enough to keep pricking his mind.  He was besotted by the images of Emily.  If it was a trap, he didn’t particularly care, but it didn’t feel like one.  Friday arrived and Andrew set off, unarmed and unprepared.

The people were beginning to filter into the shopping centre.  The early hour meant most teens were still comatose with the sleep of the damned.  The only ones up at such a stupid hour in school holidays were the ones who had to process groceries and pack shelves.

It was too early for Phat Albert’s comic book store to be open, leaving Andrew with few hiding places.

He ambled past the coffee shop.  It was an older establishment in its décor of separate booths with high backed bench seats.  A loose arrangement of tables lined up out the front.

Andrew took up a vantage point in the corridor leading to the toilets giving him a clear view of the coffee shop.  Scoping the passers-by he looked for signs of a double-cross.  There was no sign of Bianca or Catherine.  Joshua might turn up at the comic book store but Andrew Phat Albert hadn’t yet arrived.

He doubted Emily would be tardy and she did not disappoint, arriving just before his phone ticked over to read 9:02.  She joined the queue at the counter, checking her phone.

Leaving his vantage point he went to join the queue.  He thought about offering to pay for her drink, as a gentlemanly gesture, but two suits and ties blocked his passage.  She ordered a caramel latte while he ordered a hot chocolate with extra cream.

As they waited for their orders, Emily stood with her arms folded, not paying attention to Andrew.  She looked at the actions of the barista and stepped forward when her name was called.  Taking two sachets of sugar Emily headed towards the far end of the coffee shop and slid into a vacant booth.  Andrew frowned as he looked towards Emily, who had still not made eye contact with him nor acknowledged his presence.

Andrew took his order from the counter and made his way to where Emily was sitting.  Sliding into the booth he slopped his drink.  A hasty mop up operation followed.  Emily did not offer to help but sat with her hands clasped together in front of her, her latte releasing wisps of steam.  She seemed distracted, lacking her bravado and self confidence.

Andrew noted the booth provided privacy from potential gossip mongers, but there was only one way in and out.  He sensed a trap but when and how it would be sprung eluded him.

Silence followed and Andrew had no idea what to say to open the conversation.  Emily took charge.  She looked directly at Andrew who sat back involuntarily.

“If you breathe a word to anyone what I am about to tell you, I will make sure your humiliation will be a circle of hell.”

The bravado faded quickly as she reached for her drink and held it between her hands, stroking the foam cup with the tip of her forefinger.  Andrew waited for Emily to continue.  She didn’t look at Andrew but addressed her question at her drink.  The voice was soft and uncertain.

“Were you serious the other night, at the party, when you said you were sorry about embarrassing me in class?”

In simple honesty, Andrew answered.  “Yes.”

“And what about when you said you have no idea about what you want to do when you leave school?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I realised that I had made fun of you in class and wanted to set things straight.  If I tried to beat you at your game, I failed.  I didn’t see any point in trying to beat you anymore.  All I can do is the best that I can in my studies.”

Emily shuffled in her seat, took the lid off her latte and stirred in the sugar.

“I have something to tell you.  That thing about my Dad; it isn’t true.  He’s still alive.  My parents separated in the holidays before high school started.  Mum and me stayed together but a bit after the divorce we decided to make a fresh start somewhere else.  And so I came to this school.”

She paused, sipping her drink.

“My Dad was always at me to do my very best.  I tried and tried.  I showed my Dad all my work and assignments, all close to perfect.  He applauded my work and congratulated me on my efforts.  I tried to please him by doing as well as I could.  When he left I thought I hadn’t done enough; that somehow he was disappointed in me.  I suppose I was still trying to impress my Dad and win his approval.”

Andrew watched her fingers interlacing and releasing.  He felt pity for Emily as she divulged, her super villain persona self-destructing.  He tried to understand where she was coming from.

“We’ve always been competitive,” said Andrew, “and it’s been fairly friendly.”

“But I had to beat you.  When you embarrassed me in English class, I just snapped.  I felt like a little girl who’d been told off.  I wanted revenge so badly and I got it.  I watched you squirm.  I saw you make mistakes, almost destroy your friendship with Jackson.  And I was glad.”

“What changed your mind?” Andrew asked.

“When you apologised the other night.  I began to wonder if I was doing the right thing.”

“Why are you telling me this?”  Andrew asked.

“I honestly don’t know,” said Emily.  “If I did, I am not sure I would want to admit it.”

A perfect storm developed.  The combination of close proximity to a beautiful girl, her revelation and his infatuation, combined to create a situation every teenage boy fantasises about but is never sure how to proceed.  Andrew’s gut urged his mouth to speak.  Before his brain could sound a Brown Alert and prevent emergency evacuation from any orifice, three words were spoken.  And there was no chance of a retraction.

“I like you.”

Comic Superhero Episode 5: A Pyrrhic Victory

Previously in Comic Superhero…

At the end of the test, Andrew tried to distract himself with nonsense over lunch with his friends.  The discussion turned to the ongoing rivalry between Andrew and Emily.  Andrew hated himself for almost cheating and was embarrassed when it was suggested that he had a crush on Emily.  Time for the papers to be returned…

Everyday Andrew fretted over his results.  He was over at Jackson’s house one Saturday afternoon playing computer games.

“When do you think we’ll get our tests back?  I’m not sure I’ve done all that well,” Andrew said lying on the floor of Jackson’s bedroom, game controller in hand.

It had begun to grow on Jackson’s nerves.  “Would you stop being such a whinger?  Mrs Motherwell said we’d have them back within two weeks.  And you know she’s good on her word, so we’ll probably get them back on Monday.  So quit obsessing about it.”

“But it’s a Phantom comic signed by Sy Barry,” said Andrew.

“Yeah I know that.”

“What’s the one thing you would obsess over?  Come on, be honest.”

Jackson paused, weighing his options carefully.  Andrew watched him scan the room with his eyes; the television, boxes of comics, X-Box, framed movie posters, stereo system, Wii.  Jackson finally came to a conclusion.  “I’d obsess over an autographed ‘Watchmen’ graphic novel.”

“What would you do to get it?”

“Well I wouldn’t cheat.”  The comment stung Andrew.  Jackson hadn’t been impressed with Andrew’s confession and had made his feelings well and truly known.  Andrew thought he detected a hint of bitterness.

“I’m sorry,” said Jackson.  “That was uncalled for.  I just can’t get that you would have done it.”

“You would have had a price.  You weren’t been tested like I was.”

“Does that matter?”

“Yes, it does.”

Andrew returned his attention to the game, indicating the conversation was over.  The boys continued playing and didn’t discuss the matter any further.

Sitting at his desk later that evening a barrage of questions threw Andrew off from doing his homework.  What if he had failed to beat Emily?  What had prompted him to think it was ok to cheat?  Had Emily cheated?  He doubted it.  She was talented enough to beat him.  Even Emily had asked if all this fuss and bother over a comic book was worth it.  Andrew flung his pen across the desk, rubbing his face into his hands, thankful he hadn’t gone through with it.

Monday morning was overcast and a light drizzle kept everyone subdued under umbrellas and raincoats.  Andrew found it difficult to concentrate in class all day.  Even Mr Angus, their placid Modern History teacher, handed out a reprimand.  Andrew flicked between his timetable and the clock, wishing English, the last lesson of the day, would come around.

At the door to their classroom Andrew and Emily came face to face.  Andrew hoped his anxiety wasn’t showing because Emily simply broke into a smile and walked into the room.  He hated her.  It festered in his stomach.  It was the smug attitude that caught him unawares.  Ever since the humiliation of beating her last time, she was able to hold sway over him, making him dance to her black music.

Andrew felt his heart amp up in intensity.

“You ready for this, mate?” asked Jackson.

“No.  Not one bit.”

Sitting at their desks, Andrew and Jackson unpacked and waited.

“Would you quit jiggling your legs.  You keep making the table rock,” Jackson said.  “It’s like you’ve got ADD or something.”

Mrs. Motherwell entered and began handing out the marked test papers and the inevitable comparison of marks began.  Around the class came the prayers of petition, exclamations of surprise, groans of broken souls and whoops of jubilation.

“Jackson, make sure I don’t see my paper.”  Andrew kept his eyes focused solely on Emily.  His heartbeat pounded in his ears.  To his left, Jackson accepted his paper form Mrs. Motherwell, mumbled an expletive and turned it face down on the table.

“Here’s yours Andrew,” said Mrs. Motherwell, moving off and handing Emily her paper.

“Thanks, Miss.”  He handed it to Jackson without looking.  “Don’t tell me.”

Emily looked over at Andrew, her paper clutched to her chest.  Her face was stone, impassive.

“She’d be good at poker with a face like that,” said Jackson as Emily slid her paper face down onto the desk.

Midst the noise of the classroom Andrew took his paper from Jackson and came across to Emily.  He put his paper face down on the table and Emily did the same.

“Are you ready to lose, Andrew?” asked Emily.  “I hope that all this struggle was worth it for you.  Over the last few weeks, you’ve been a little testy.”  She raised her eyebrows at her joke.  “I have nothing to lose, but for you, it’s everything.  Any last words?”

Andrew shook his head.

“Bianca, would you please turn over my paper,” said Emily.  Bianca reached across and flipped it over.  The mark stood out like a bloodstain: 18/20.  His mouth went dry and his palms sprung a leak.  This was going to be tough to beat.

“Jackson.  Turn it over.”  Andrew looked Emily in the eye.  He heard the rustle of paper and looked down.  19/20.

Andrew wanted to leap into the air, but kept himself in check.  He felt a sense of justice and jubilation.

“That comic’s mine now,” he said snatching his paper back off the desk.  “We’ll do the hand over at Phat Albert’s comic shop.  If you don’t know where it is, I’m sure Joshua will show you.”

“No need for sarcasm, Andrew,” said Emily.

“Saturday, midday.”  Like a triumphant Caesar, Andrew went back to his seat.

“Jackson, how’d you do?”

“OK.”  Jackson looked down at his paper before stuffing it into his school bag.  For the rest of the lesson he sat in silence.  Andrew tried to get his friend to talk without success.

As the bell went for the end of the day, Jackson hurried out.  Andrew caught him in the corridor.

“What’s going on?”

Jackson turned, anger in his expression.  “I busted a gut for this test and the best I could manage was thirteen out of twenty.  You sail through, Mr Quiet Achiever, without having to do anything.”

“I worked hard for that test.”

“Yeah, but you even considered cheating.”  Jackson held his thumb and forefinger millimetres apart.  “You came that close to doing it.”

“But I didn’t do it.”

“Big deal.  The fact that you even thought about it makes the comic blood money.  You became so obsessed with it that you were going to do the one thing that you know you shouldn’t have.”

Jackson turned his back and stormed off.  Andrew could only watch his best mate walk away.

Comic Superhero Episode 2: Pocketful of Kryptonite

Andrew punched out a quick text to Jackson, See you at the comic store in half an hour, yelled out a farewell to his mother and plugged in his headphones.  After finishing his English and Biology homework he decided a Saturday afternoon off wouldn’t hurt.  The walk to the store would help refresh his mind.

Ever since his hubristic triumph over Emily Lewis, he kept his head down.  She played it very cool and aloof, throwing him the evil eye every once in a while.  Andrew couldn’t help wondering when she would make good on her promise to get even.

Walking into the store he pulled the headphones and waved at Phat Albert, owner of the comic book store, behind the counter.  Albert’s physique did not resemble his name sake, but the unfortunate adjective had been ascribed.  To compensate, he insisted on the “ph” instead of the “f.”

“Hey Andrew,” he said.  “I’ve got something that you might be interested in.”

Albert turned to a cupboard behind the counter, unlocked it and pulled out a mylar pocket and placed it on the counter.

“An autographed edition of The Phantom.  Signed by none other than Sy Barry.  I know he’s your favourite Phantom artist, so I thought you’d like first look.”

Andrew felt like Indiana Jones holding a mystical relic for the first time.  Sy’s moniker in black texta across the front cover coaxed and beckoned.

“Picked it up at comicon last week and yours for only $300,” said Phat Albert.

Jackson bounded into the store and up to the counter.  “What’cha got there?  Oh man, that’s awesome.  You gonna get it?”

“I would do anything to have it, but I haven’t quite got the cash.  I could ask Mum and Dad for a loan, but I was also saving for our end of year trip.”

Joshua, aka The Dark Knight, stepped up to the counter.  He was wearing his favourite Batman t-shirt and was in the same year as Andrew and Jackson.  “That’s a pretty piece of artwork there, Andrew.  Going to get it?  I’d give anything to have it if it was Batman.”

Jackson intervened, “Isn’t the Drama class missing their principal star?”

Joshua passed off the insult.  “Just checking out the wares on offer here, Jackson; nothing more.  I was merely admiring a piece of memorabilia which just happens to be of interest to Andrew.”

The three boys shared a love of comic books bordering on rivalry.  Joshua was a collector of all things Batman and had a seemingly unlimited bank account to fund it.  To Jackson he was a show pony.

Andrew’s shoulders dropped.  “Thanks Phat Albert, but just can’t do it now.  See you later.”

Andrew backed away from the counter, taking one last look.  He and Jackson wandered the store for a while before heading out for some food.  The thought of the comic tormented Andrew.  Joshua observed their departure before pulling out his phone and sending a text.

On Monday morning, the duo headed in to English.  Mrs Motherwell pronounced that she had some good news.

“You will be having an assessment task for our current text, Hamlet and you can keep your groans to yourself.  It’s four weeks away so there is plenty of time to be prepared.  It will be an in class essay.”

Andrew dared a glance towards Emily.  She turned, caught his eye and smiled.

“That’s the smile of something that wants to eat your heart out,” said Jackson.

Emily reached into her folder and pulled out a plastic envelope.  Andrew’s eyes widened in disbelief as he saw the autographed Phantom comic.

“Where the hell did you get that!” said Andrew.

“Andrew, would you please refrain from calling out in class.”

“Sorry Miss,” said Andrew as he watched Emily return the comic to her folder.

“How come she has it?” Jackson asked Andrew.

“Joshua was at the comic store with us.  He probably bought it and gave it to her.  They are in the same drama class together so it makes sense.”

As soon as class ended, Andrew confronted Emily.  “Who gave you that comic?”

“Is this important to you?” she mocked.  Her eyes narrowed, “I said I’d get even with you.”

Andrew was desperate.  “I will pay whatever you want for it.  Name your price.”

“What would you be willing to do for this precious possession?”

Andrew hesitated, knowing his options were limited, but he would have done almost anything.

Emily sprung her trap.  “I tell you what.  Next English test, winner takes all.  If you beat me, you can buy it from me.  If I win, you get to know that I have it in my possession.  And there’s not a thing you can do about it.”

Andrew fumed inwardly and hung his head.  “Deal.  But you’ve got to promise to keep it safe.”

“I won’t promise anything, but I’ll take good care of it.  Time’s ticking.”

Emily turned and walked away, laughter echoing in the corridor.