Selling the Drama by Theresa Smith

When
he wasn't playing sport or studying, he spent time with Anne.
Charlotte was right about her, she was a nice girl. A really nice
girl. She was pretty to look at with her long blond hair and bright
blue eyes; she kept her school skirts to knee length, always wore
her tie with its many pins announcing her many roles within the
student council; if she couldn't be found around the grounds at
lunch time, then he would be sure to find her at the library,
either studying herself, or tutoring others. She was a perfect
plastic cut out girlfriend, and he had no idea really why he was
even bothering. All he ever thought about was Charlotte, with her
ridiculously short school skirts, untucked shirts, and pin less
tie; her messy dark hair and black nail polish; the way the inside
of her mouth would glint every time he caught sight of her pierced
tongue, the newest addition to her pursuit of piercings in random
places. She was the opposite of plastic. She was uncontained and
spirited, foul mouthed and often rude, late to class and never seen
doing anything at lunch time other than laughing with her friends
while sneaking out of the back gate. She was all he ever wanted
every minute of the day and night, an invasion against his
sanity.
    Charlotte found what she had been searching
for in her drawer and turned around, a parcel in her hands. "Here."
She held it out to him. "This is your real present."
    He leaned forward and took the package from
her. Inside was a cassette tape and a book. The cassette was
Zooropa, the new album by U2, only just released but not yet
available in Australia. He smiled at it and then up at her,
genuinely pleased with this gift.
    She was looking at him with a hopeful
expression. "You said you wished you had it."
    He nodded. "I did. Did you get it from
Jenna?"
    "I asked her for it as soon as I read about
it coming out. It's very different to their other music. I thought
we might be able to listen to it together on your new stereo." She
looked down at her foot then, tracing it back and forth over the
carpet, the breach between them ever present.
    Toby looked back down into his parcel and
pulled out the book. It was an old book, with a cloth cover,
beautifully embossed on the front with gold leafing. Toby knew
enough about books to recognise this one as being special. He
expected this was something else she'd had to search far and wide
for. Her consideration to him with these gifts was touching, the
unexpectedness making it even more meaningful. He traced the title
with his finger. "A Farewell to Arms, by Ernest Hemingway." He
glanced up at her. "You think I can read this? That I will
understand a single word of what he says?"
    Charlotte shrugged. "It's a love story, set
in the Great War. It's beautiful and tragic and I think you'll like
it a lot. I did, anyway."
    "Thank you. For these." He smiled then,
catching her gaze. "And for the chart. I'm very impressed by your
commitment to growing your own virginity back."
    She smirked. "You can make fun of me all you
like. I don't care."
    "I'm not making fun of you." He put the book
and cassette down onto the top of her dresser, crossing over to one
of her book shelves. He followed along with his finger, reading the
titles, her reading tastes as eclectic as the rest of her room. She
traversed a path that veered from highbrow classics to hard
erotica, with a fair bit of popular fiction thrown in between. He
spoke to her over his shoulder, feeling safer asking this question
while not looking at her. "Why do you read these sex stories?"
    "What sex stories?"
    "The one's like this?" He turned to her,
feeling bold, a book held up in his hand. "What draws you to
them?"
    She crossed the room and shut her door. He
tensed. What had he just gotten himself into? Approaching him, she
took the book from his hand, running her finger over the title on
the cover. "Beauty's Release." She read the title to him, as though
he may not have read it just moments before himself.
    "Anne Rice, the