It was late in the day by the time I had arrived at Eve's home. Bathed in orange glow of sunset, the white walls of her term-time residence didn't look too enticing. Squashed between two older homes like a train commuter in rush-hour, the one person home looked lonely.
The voicemail I received was brief. I couldn't really hear most of it in the rumble of coffee shop atmosphere, but Eve sounded breathy. "Come to my place. I've got a surprise for you."
I rapped on the weathered door, idly looking at a potted plant that had crept out and hung over its terracotta holdings. Probably left over from the last owner. Clunks reveal Eve, peeking through the gap playfully.
She was beautiful, and I would have given anything to sleep with her. Bobbed hair, shaven at the back sat prettily on her heart shaped face. More dishevelled than usual, flecking her forehead erratically. Her eyes were sharp and demure, wing-tipped with an unsurprisingly lack of care. An old woollen jumper's sleeve sat between her lips, stretching from her smiling bite. I wanted her badly, even on a lazy day like this.
"Busy night last night?" I joked, moving past her into the cramped hallway. My hip touched hers as I passed into the living room. Curtains still drawn, an old cup of tea leaving various rings on dog-eared uni work.
She laughed briefly. "Fuck you." I plopped down in a hard armchair, slinging my rucksack down. I never felt as cool as Eve, so any joke that didn't fall flat was a victory for me.
"Tea?" She half shouted, turning away from me and leaving the room. I spotted her old shorts hiking up her perfect, round bum.
"Yeah, thanks!" I respond. I'm left to errantly search the room. Posters from great bands way older than the two of us. Course books that look like they'd never been opened. A pair of handcuffs on the table. An empty vase.
A pair of handcuffs on the table.
I frowned, picking them up with two fingers. The second cuff dangles, not rocking- there's a surprising firmness to the connecting middle. Usually I'd seen handcuffs with a chain; like in cop shows.
There were surprisingly thick.
Eve sauntered back in, placing two cups quickly onto the table. I was still holding the handcuffs with an unsettling curiosity. We made eye contact, and for the briefest of moments I felt my stomach flutter.
"What are these doing here?!" My voice turned high pitch at the end as I can't help but giggle. "I guess it really was a busy night last night!"
I was expecting at least some shock, but Eve jumped into a recline on the sofa opposite, taking her phone out.
"Social last night, remember? Cops and robbers." Her thumb lazily scrolled, before she threw the phone towards me. In a fluster I caught it.
In the dark of a smoky nightclub Eve was posed in a variety of photos. Wearing a navy blue dress that hugged her figure, skinny legs jutting out. The handcuffs from beforehand at her side. Jesus Christ, she was stunning.
Looking through myself, I saw her laughing, a series of snaps entailing her grabbing her friend and putting the cuffs on her. The two grin playfully as Eve grabs her arm and leans in for a kiss on the cheek. I wanted desperately to be the other girl.
I journeyed back to the top of the album- Hockey Social 13/02/16 and felt both jealousy and shame.
Eve's face went solemn as I placed her phone on the table.
"Hey, I know you must feel a bit left out after what happened last week at practice..." She started, before I meekly interjected.
"I-I don't care. It's fine, really." I flashed a weak smile and couldn't even fool myself into thinking it earnest.
"It was really fucked up that they'd post the pictures online."
I slumped into my armchair, withdrawing. My eyes fixated on a carpet stain as I felt my face burn.
Those images were still burnt into my head. Bending down on the tiled floor of a changing room, one hand pressed against my sex. My head fully encased in dirty pantyhose, details hidden by layers of black nylon. I'd been benched in the hockey game, and decided to go back into the changing rooms. The pile of dirty hosiery was just too enticing; one sniff lead to another, and before I knew it I was teasing out an orgasm.
I don't know who took the picture. There was shock, laughter and a stampede of girls rushing out of the room. I could remember the complete shame and worry for hours afterwards, exploding into the worst case scenario when they were plastered all over social media.
"I'm not sure what went on but we're still really good friends." Eve spoke in such a way that it sounded like she was proving it to herself, hands cupped over her mug like protection.
I fiddled with the handcuffs in my hand erratically, looking up at the ceiling, the walls, anywhere but her eyes. My face reddened and felt like a furnace.
"I don't want to talk about it. Really, it's alright." Hands still tracing over cold steel, turning in my hands.
"I think we should, Jen." Peripheral vision told me Eve was staring -boring, more like- as she blew on her tea. I flashed a look her way, perfect lips puckering as they repelled hazy smoke.
"T-there's nothing to really say, I-" Click. My wild fiddling stops as I felt the weight of metal on my wrists. With a tug I tried to get them off to no avail. This wasn't helping such a delicate situation.
"How are these so sturdy? They don't mess around with costume props anymore, do they?"
Eve put down her mug. "You're changing the subject."
"Eve, can this not wait?"
She pressed on. "Dirty laundry, does that turn you on?"
