Why does he have to be so goddamn good-looking? And such a dickhead? What is with him?
Sarah AldersonI glance at the book he’s holding. It is American Psycho by Brett Easton Ellis. There is a deep, dark irony to this and I wonder if he realises it or not. I want to ask him why he’s bought it but what if he’s bought it as a text book?
Sarah AldersonThe music cuts out and suddenly my breathing sounds really loud. It also seems to amplify his whole nakedness.
I stare at him. Actually I try not to stare at him but it’s kind of hard not to. I mean, he’s standing there topless in front of me and his stomach looks like it just walked out of an Abercrombie catalogue. Sweat has darkened the waistband of his jeans. He’s holding a spanner in one hand, the tyre in the other.
And finally it is Thursday and the day of my guitar lesson. I jump out of bed as though it’s Christmas morning and I am six years old and a child of the Brangelina. I am in front of the mirror fixing my make up when Brodie waltzes in and plonks herself on my bed.
‘Why do you look pretty?’ she asks.
But, like most things in life, unless you really work at it, anger's a hard thing to hold on to.
Sarah AldersonHe looks a bit like Robert Pattinson—if you genetically spliced him with Buzz Lightyear. He has dark, quiffy hair and wide-spaced eyes, though his skin is tanned as opposed to diamond sparkly white. He has a very square jaw with a dimple in the center of his chin but alas no jet
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THE SOUND
SARAH ALDERSON
pack. I note that his eyebrow is cocked and the smile on his face is half sneer, half smirk as if he’s laughing at Eliza but she doesn’t seem to realize.
I shake my head. I’m making a lot of assumptions here and the only two that I can safely claim are true are the ones about him being neither a vampire nor a space ranger.
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