Tina stretched herself tall and puffed out her chest. She clenched her fists by her side and did her best to look fearsome. Tina was a tiny size eight, with pale skin and a cute pageboy haircut. At twenty-five years old, she was often asked for ID. Mei Jing didn’t think Tina did ‘fearsome’ very well.
“That guy over there,” Mei Jing indicated with a tilt of her head, “I’ve seen him before but he doesn’t remember. Not that he should, but …” Mei Jing’s voice trailed off.
Tina glanced over at the group. Mick was still chatting to them and gave her a wave. “Which one?” she asked.
Mei Jing remained silent, sure that Tina would get it in a minute.
“Which one?” she asked again. “Oooooh … Isn’t that …? That looks a lot like … Oooooh …?” Tina grabbed Mei Jing’s arm and pulled her further away from Mick and his friends. “It’s him, isn’t it?” She was now staring openly at Rod, the architect.
“Yep,” said Mei Jing, focussed in the opposite direction.
Tina gaped at Mei Jing. “And he had no idea who you are?”
“Nope.”
“Oh! … My! … God!”
“Yep.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
Mei Jing frowned and shrugged. “Why?”
“Girls! What’s going on? M.J., what’s with the bolt from the boys?” Mick manoeuvred his giant frame between the girls, slinging a muscled arm round each of them.
“Tina and I were just discussing whether the Cherry Ripe is better in the plain or dark chocolate,” Mei Jing answered.
“Ah.” Mick nodded in understanding. “Life’s big questions.”
Tina wiggled out from under Mick’s arm and looked up at him. “Who’s your friend with the glasses?”
Mick turned back to the group of boys who were pretending they weren’t watching. “You mean Rod. He’s Stewey’s housemate. We played indoor cricket together last year. Why? Has M.J. got the hots for him? She definitely seemed keen there.” He waggled his eyebrows at Mei Jing.
Mei Jing willed Tina to keep her mouth shut. Mick and Tina had been best friends since they were kids, and secrets between them were rare. And this was a good one.
Tina leaned into Mick. “That’s the guy from Phuket,” Tina stage-whispered
“What guy?” asked Mick.
Mei Jing rolled her eyes. It always took Mick a minute to catch up.
“What guy?” he repeated. Mei Jing and Tina watched as the cogs in his male memory turned and clicked into place.
“That guy?”
“Yep.” Tina nodded earnestly.
Mick spun round to stare at Rod. Men were useless at subtlety. “Does he know who you are?” He turned back to Mei Jing.
“Nope.” Mei Jing avoided eye contact and moved to a bar table to fetch the cocktail menu.
“Are you going to tell him?” Mick persisted.
“And say what?” Mei Jing studied the drinks on offer. The cocktail of the month, the ‘Thai Salad Sensation’, had caught her eye.
“Well, you might get a free beer at least.”
Mei Jing shook her head. Mick knew how to simplify a situation.
“Mick. Don’t tell him.” Mei Jing used her school teacher tone to dismiss him. “I’m going to get a drink,” she said and moved to the bar with the cocktail menu in hand.
While she waited to be served, she tried to concentrate on the decision ahead of her. What to do? The Thai Salad Sensation did sound amazing; it was described as ‘an adventure for the tastebuds’, but she’d always been a Caprioska girl. She didn’t do adventurous as a rule. But seeing Rod here tonight … her uncharacteristic flirting … No. Flirting had failed; best stick to the tried and tested. A Caprioska it was.
Decision made, she looked up from the cocktail menu, but without an important beverage choice to focus on, she found herself thinking about Rod. An adventure that still caused her confusion. She’d often wondered what it would be like to see him again. He looked exactly the same. Except, of course, today he was conscious.
She looked down at the floor, wondering if she should tell him. Wondering if he’d want to know, or would that just make things awkward. Mei Jing didn’t do awkward. So … No, won’t tell him. Phew—another decision made. She looked back at the cocktail menu.
“What’s the decision?” a voice beside her asked. Mei Jing turned to see Rod.
“No, not going to tell you,” Mei Jing replied quickly.
“You’re not going to tell me what cocktail you’re having?” Rod asked, his eyes shining with amusement.
“Ah … that … Ummm, yes … I’m having a Thai Salad Sensation.”
Hang on … that wasn’t it. Why was she talking to him anyway. He’d been rude. “I’ll get it,” said Rod. “A peace offering for being an arse before.” He looked contrite. And cute. His eyes crinkled behind his glasses. And he really didn’t seem like an arse. She hoped he wasn’t an arse.
“You know …” said Mei Jing, “if we’d slept together you would have remembered.”
There she went again. Oh God. She was such a farce. Mei Jing couldn’t remember the last time she’d been suggestive. Surely he could see right through her. She was not a good flirter.
Rod laughed. “It doesn’t matter how I reply to that—I’m in trouble aren’t I?”
Mei Jing smiled. “Pretty much.”
They’d reached the bar and Rod ordered a Thai Salad Sensation and a Caprioska.
“You drink Caprioskas?” Mei Jing asked, surprised. She looked at the cocktail menu. It wasn’t even one of their standards.
“Yeah,” said Rod. “You’ll have to try it. I got hooked on them when I was on a scuba diving trip to the Polynesian Islands. They make them good there. They use a thick sugary syrup made with cane sugar and vodka, add more vodka, then pour it over crushed ice and add lime. I’m trying to find a bar in Brisbane that does them the same, but a lot of bar tenders don’t even know what it is.”
“I know!” said Mei Jing. “It’s a travesty. I don’t understand why Caprioskas aren’t part of Bar Training 101.”
“You drink Caprioskas too?” he asked.
“Almost always.”
He tipped his head to one side to look at her. “What’s with the Thai Salad Sensation then?”
“Just trying something a little adventurous.”
Their drinks arrived and they carried them to the side of the bar. Mei Jing took a sip and allowed the flavours to settle in her mouth.
“Wow—that’s good,” she said, taking another sip. “I could convert.”
“What?” Rod looked shocked. “And turn your back on the Caprioska? You are a fickle woman. I was about to ask you to join me on my Best-In-Brisbane-Caprioska mission but you can forget it now. Go back to your Thai Salad Sensation.”
Mei Jing offered him her drink and Rod took a sip.
“Ahhhhh,” he breathed out loudly as the chilli hit him. “Whoa! That is rocket fuel. Thai Salad flavoured rocket fuel. Can I have some more?” He took another sip. “That’s amazing. You can really differentiate the flavours. Basil, ginger, chilli, mint, and there’s something else …”
“Coriander,” Mei Jing offered.
“Yeah, of course.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Tastes and smells can transport you, can’t they? Like when I taste Caprioska …” he took a sip to helpfully demonstrate his point, “I can immediately see the bar in Tahiti where I’d hang out, and the big black islander bartender, Jimmy, who used to make them.” He took another sip of the Caprioska.
“What about the Thai Salad Sensation?” Mei Jing asked. She held her breath while he again tasted her drink.
“Ah, memories aren’t so vivid there.” He looked thoughtful, pausing while the chilli hit his palate. “That is so hot! Don’t you find it hot?”
“My parents are from the Szechuan province. We put chilli in cupcakes.”
“Ah.” He nodded with respect. “Hardcore. So, back to the conflict at hand,” Rod became business-like, “you promised to flirt outrageously with me and I don’t see you flirting. So you’re going to have to tell me where we met.”
Mei Jing, sensing that the question was coming, had turned to seek out Tina. Luckily, Tina and Mick had been trying to eavesdrop, and so before Rod had finished his sentence, they were standing beside her, ready for their conversation rescue mission.
“Hey Rod, have you met Tina?” asked Mick.
“Hey Rod,” Tina sung out. “I’m stealing M.J. to dance. I love this song.”
The boys leant back on the bar and watched the girls find their way to the dance floor. It was too early for dancing and Mei Jing and Tina had the space to themselves.
“You playing indoor cricket this season?” Mick asked Rod as he watched Tina wiggle to the music. She really was a terrible dancer. She lacked any kind of rhythm and her moves were all over the place. Mick grinned as Tina attempted a Beyoncé-style bottom manoeuvre. If Tina had a bum she may have been able to pull it off, but with missing buttocks—she just looked like a wiggling stick.