It's Been a Pleasure, Noni Blake

by Claire Christian

“I love Point Break,” I say. “It’s the best film ever,” Beau adds. “Did you watch the new one?” I ask. “No!” They both say in unison, clearly repulsed by the suggestion. “Neither did I!” I say with both my hands up in the air.

“I dunno. What about my career? But then what else do I even want with my career? Maybe I’m just bored. Or jealous. Maybe I just miss you,” he says and my heart hurts wishing that I was there with him, having this conversation in real life, not in hushed tones locked in the bathroom.

He walks toward his bedroom. “Your students are lucky, Noni. I don’t have any teachers like you.” “Thanks,” I say, feeling it right in my heart.

A lilac caped wide-leg jumpsuit with a plunging neckline. Think Solange Knowles’s wedding jumpsuit, but in a pale springtime purple.

“Beau and his girlfriend are down from Edinburgh, so we’re having dinner.” His girlfriend.

Short circuit

“Do you know how insulting that is to me? You’re basically saying that something I love is not worth wanting.”

I smile. But I suddenly feel underwhelmed. He’s attracted to me, sure, but love? This doesn’t sound like love.

“Now, kiss me like you just saw me after being away from me for a year.” He smiles and I laugh. “Go on. That’s what it felt like tonight, you all the way over there, pouting with your bag in your hand. A whole year.”

I exhale loudly. I know I can be happy at home. I can be happy anywhere, I realize. Because I now know that I am the common denominator in my own happiness.

“It’s been a fucking pleasure, Noni Blake.” He smiles cheekily and I laugh.

Leo meme

“How you feeling?” Niko pops his head around the door of my office later in the day. “Overwhelmed. But fine,” I say. “Good. Just yell out if you need anything.” We stare at each other for a moment. The energy between us has shifted. It’s not awkward, but it’s not comfortable either. It’s heightened. “Okay.” Niko nods. And he leaves.

“So, now what? We just go cold turkey?” I ask. “Yeah. Total detox from each other.” He sighs. “For a bit.” The tears plop on my cheeks and I try not let him hear that I’m crying, but I can’t help it. Neither of us speaks for the longest time. “I really miss you, Noni,” he says. “I miss you too,” I blub.

I know that the voice in my head telling me I’m stupid and fat and reckless and wrong isn’t my own, not really.

Lindell yells as he beeps his horn at a black BMW that nearly cut us off. “You piece of shit dickhead wanker, you are not fucking with me tonight. Do you hear me?”

“You’re lucky, you had one minute before this closed.” I smile so ferociously I can no longer see out of my eyes, and tears pummel my cheeks. “It’s okay, you made it,” she says, looking at me with a sympathetic smile. “You’re gonna make it. Everything is going to be fine,” she says, which makes me smile and cry more.

“We can just try breaking into your fuckin’ unit, Noni,” bearded Rob, the owner, says seriously, and a few others nod.

I run down the hill, scooting around people going about their day. I run and I panic. I run and I wince from the breeze, from the stupidity, from the shock. I run and I pant and then all of a sudden I’m no longer running, because I’m tripping and tumbling and skidding down centuries-old Scottish cobblestones, slipping and hitting the ground hard. Skin tearing as my hands scrape along the ground, and my knees follow, the jacket and my T-shirt flying high as I kneel like a bare-assed bleeding sprinter squatting awkwardly about to start a race.

Firstly, I’d like to acknowledge the significance of getting to live and work on Aboriginal land, over which sovereignty has never been ceded. The majority of this book was written in Meanjin, on the traditional land of the Yuggera and Turrbal people. I pay my deepest and most heartfelt respects to their Elders—past, present and emerging. This was and always will be Aboriginal land.

And you, you glorious bloody book-reading human, my goodness, thank you. I really hope you find ways to center pleasure in your life. As Beau would say... What do you want? Because you should totally do / eat / dye / buy / get / kiss / fuck / tattoo / leave / say that thing. Yeah. You really should. If you think it’ll feel good—well, I’m happy to take the blame for that. All my love. And gratitude. Claire