Late May in Toronto meant that the air was thick and sticky with the heat and humidity rolling in alongside the Spring storms. Hollie wasn’t sure if the AC in her bedsit had ever worked or if the janky old thing was just for show; it did give off that particularly grimey, retro vibe that made Queen West popular. Despite the best efforts of herself and her roommates every strongly worded email to their landlord on the subject had been left unresolved. So, at this point, Hollie had given up all hope of sleeping comfortably through the muggy evenings. Sleep came in fits and starts of one or two hours at most. Often, she woke to find herself laying naked and sweating, limbs tangled in the cotton bed sheet. The more she struggled to free herself the more restrained she became, as if stuck in a Chinese finger puzzle. For some reason she was dreaming of drowning, tangled up in ropes that morphed into the white twisted sheet as she peeled open her eyelids and focused her vision. Instead of laying there, sweltering and struggling to breathe the stifling air collecting around her, Hollie took to walking in the early hours. Hoping that the cars passing by might whip up enough of a cool gust to provide a moment of relief from the heat.
At first Hollie tried not to take the same path, preferring to meander with her thoughts, allowing curiosity to lead her. Yet, increasingly she found herself drawn towards Church and Wellesley, specifically to the gardens of the Metropolitan United Church. If she timed it just right, Hollie knew she would be able to see the silhouetted figure of a woman lounging on a balcony in the towering apartment complex opposite the church; the orange tip of a cigarette growing brighter every time she took a drag. The first time she saw her Hollie had glanced up almost by chance, a fleeting moment of interest, wondering if she would be there. Hollie hadn’t actually expected to see her there, she just knew Annika lived there. But there she was, every night Hollie walked by, always around 2am. Her visage was shadowy in the dull light but Hollie could make out the long hair unfurled over a shoulder, her back lent against the glass of the window and one bare leg propped up on the ledge. Most nights she was wearing what looked like a man’s sweatshirt, even in this heat. Although Hollie supposed there might actually be a breeze seven stories up. Hollie could never make out the logo.
Things had been weird with Annika ever since what Hollie assumed was their first date. Anni had all but run away from her just after Hollie touched her leg and just before she intended to kiss her. Hollie messed up, got too intimate, made Annika uncomfortable. Scared her off, story of my life. She saw some kind of fear in Annika’s big viridescent eyes before she vanished into the freezing evening. My stupid gay brain asssuming things.
Hollie had waited exactly 27 minutes before going after Annika, bringing the coat she left behind. She didn’t find her but a few hours later she received a text:
‘Annie 🎹: Went home, didn’t feel well, sorry x’
Hollie still had the coat. It hung over the back of the chair in the corner of her room, an ever-present awkward reminder of that night. She intended to give it back but their friendship hadn’t seemed to recover from the failed meander down the dating lane yet.
The chill of residual embarrassment Hollie felt paired with the memory of the freezing breeze that night helped to cool her down in the present. Tonight, like every night that month, Hollie lay naked on her bed, a trickle of sweat running down her side from her underboob. Annika hadn’t been around much since the incident with Heloise Rosewood and notorious talent manager, Len Cabot. It was wise of Anni to lay low for a while, let the black spot on her name fade from the entertainment scene, let them forget. Hollie herself once had similar problems with Cabot and Heloise. Instead of telling them where to stuff it, like Annika did, Hollie went along with their requests for an easier life. People tell Hollie that they're intimidated by her when they first meet her, she always thought that was silly. It’s only in knowing Annika that Hollie finally understood what that felt like.
Hollie scrunched her nose up at the thought of the last time she’d seen Anni. Earlier that week she’d found herself walking through the greenery at the front of the Met Church again. Glancing up to the West facing balcony, seventh floor, as usual, there she was; glowing ember of her cigarette lighting up like a fiery jewel in the darkness above the streetlights. The silhouette was unusual this time though, there were too many limbs, it was too broad. Hollie squinted then looked away hurriedly. Annika was with a man. Sat on a man, to be more exact. Holding the cigarette to his lips before meeting them with her own. Hollie shuddered. Obviously that woman has a boyfriend.
Now, it was 2am and the night was fairly cool compared to its predecessors. Hollie was jogging off a nervous energy. In less than a week’s time she’d be running theater classes for kids at Camp Australia. Hollie loved teaching children. Their enthusiasm and optimism filled her up and gave her purpose. Some of her favourite jobs working freelance in Toronto had been singing in the churches and the schools; this year it was always Anni accompanying her on the piano. Hollie stopped at traffic lights, jogging on the spot and losing her train of thought to take in her surroundings. She’d done it again. She was at the corner of Queen Street East and Church. The little hand flashed green and Hollie continued on, determined not to look up at the balcony. She was concentrating so much on not looking in that direction in fact, that she ran directly into an oncoming Uber Eats bike.
The delivery driver got back on their bike after the collision. They shouted something at her as they rode off but Hollie didn’t hear it, she was too dazed and worried about the sharp pain in her leg. A passerby helped her up off the floor. He had kind hazel eyes but they were sleepless, just as hers were. He was tall and fit, with the deep sun kissed tan of someone who hadn’t long been in the cloudy city. Hollie insisted she was fine multiple times before he was satisfied enough to leave her, continuing on his own jog and scratching at his short dark hair.
Hollie hobbled over to a bench, tentatively lowering herself down before examining her injuries. As she was looking down the reddish welts forming against the skin on her side she heard the voice.
“Hollie? Oh shit, is that blood?”
That voice had been the first piece of Annika Hollie experienced. Eight or so months ago now, Anni called her to ask if the troop still needed a piano accompanist. They hadn’t, the advert was outdated. But Hollie asked Anni to come along to practice anyway. There was just something about her voice, it’s energy. The accent was British but hard to place, her cadence and the way she bounced off certain words was satisfying. At first Hollie thought Annika might be Scandinavian. It was only on their date, as Annika was half way out the door, she mentioned the Russian thing. Hollie could hear it now, just slightly, in the way she said ‘blood’.
“Bet that smarts.” Anni winced.
The woman walked towards her from the pavement, all legs and hair and boobs. She wore a crisp white and lilac pinstripe shirt tied up at her waist and a pair of denim shorts that hugged her thighs and hips. Hollie looked down at her own legs, running shorts hanging loose as if her grazed legs had shrunk inside them. Annika crouched down in front of Hollie. One hand held what looked like a fancy cone of mint-choc-chip ice cream, she placed the other on Hollie’s knee.
“Hit and run with an Uber driver,” Hollie explained, holding her head, “wasn't looking where I was going.”
It took a second for Hollie to answer the oddly specific question, “Erm... yeah?”
“Fucking Alex. Arsehole. Their boyfriend lives in my building. Come on,” Anni stood up holding her arms out for Hollie to grab onto. “We can leave a passive-aggressive note on their front door. Plus, I’m pretty sure there’s a first aid box shoved at the back of one of my kitchen cupboards. ”
Hollie still felt dazed as she hoisted herself up with Anni’s help, “Are you sure this is ok-“
“I mean, most of the shit in there is probably out of date. But if all else fails I’ve got vodka and wipes. And I’ve been watching a lot of Greys Anatomy recently, so don’t worry, I’m essentially a trauma surgeon. Hold my ice cream.”
Hollie hopped trepidatiously with a mint-choc-chip ice cream in one hand and Annika supporting her other. She felt strangely guilty for the way having Annika’s body pressed against hers was making her feel.
Remember the boyfriend Hollie, you perv, remember the horror in her eyes when you caressed her thigh like the hot lesbian mess you are.
The two safely made their way across the road and into the apartment complex. Anni took her ice cream back when they entered the lift, doing damage control with her tongue to tidy up the drippy edges. Hollie stopped herself from looking, staring down at her leg again instead. That wasn’t quite dripping with blood yet, but it was getting there. The grazes and raised red patches across her dark skin looked worse under harsh lights of the elevator. Hollie could feel the tension building the longer they stood in silence in the confined space. They never stopped talking to each other at practice, like naughty high schoolers gossiping in class, they received annoyed glances from other members of the troop. Things are different now.
“In what way is Alex an asshole?” Hollie asked finally, opening up some conversation “Aside from the obvious.” She gestured at her leg. “Beat their boyfriend, mean to their dog?”
Anni glanced down at the leg before meeting Hollie’s eyes properly for the first time, she smirked at the question. Hollie tried not to focus on the way Anni’s mouth moved.
“Boyfriend, don’t know. Dog? Seems fine. Yappy though. I think all yappy dogs are deeply unhappy on some existential level. Not sure how much Alex has to do with that.”
“I don’t like the way Alex regards me.” Annika admitted finally. “It’s just a bit…pervy.”
Hollie felt a slight twinge of shame and didn’t speak again for the rest of the journey upwards, trying not to regard Annika in any ‘pervy’ way.
Annika’s apartment was deliciously cool and chic. The entryway transitioned into an open plan kitchen. A counter segmented the living space surrounded by walls of glass on two sides, the cityscape rolling out before them. The door to her bedroom was open slightly to the left of the living room and Hollie could spy the balcony she’d been looking up at all month, finally from the opposite side. The walls were stark white, sparsely adorned by artwork and picture frames. Strips of LED lights ran across the ceiling seam, a warm pale orange light which mellowed out the harsh white lines of the room. All the furniture was plush cream and grey stone, stylish but comfortable. Annika’s piano sat pride of place, taking up a huge corner of the space. It was the only tidy spot in the flat as far as Hollie could tell. Music sheets, clothes, shoes, empty cups, bags, towels, tobacco, crumpled receipts, smoking paraphernalia, just stuff, littered everywhere. For someone who’s appearance was so clean and considered Annika lived like a slob. Hollie was glad for it really, it humanised Annika in a way, softened her on the pedestal where Hollie had placed her. She scanned through clutter trying to perceive anything typically masculine in nature, she didn’t find anything. Although she did spy a small clear bag of mysterious pills that she decided not to comment on.
“Your apartment looks like an IKEA showroom that’s been trashed by a toddler.”
Annika laughed as she squatted at a kitchen cabinet, rummaging through its contents. Her laugh was a light, raw, raspy sound that Hollie couldn’t help smile at.
“How do you afford this? My dumpster bedsit doesn’t even have AC.”
“I don’t. It’s his.” Annika nodded to a specific cluster of photos on the wall to her far right. Hollie hobbled over to look more closely.
She noticed that many of the photographs were of Annika standing, laughing, joking around with attractive men of all shapes, sizes and creeds. Her heart sank particularly at the ones Annika pointed out. They mostly featured a beautiful blonde man with tanned skin, hazel eyes, an eight pack and a jawline that could cut glass. Like some golden Adonis sculpted in the Renaissance period. Hollie recognised him too, she wondered briefly if she’d seen him on reality TV.
Of course this is her boyfriend. Hollie snarled to herself a little.
There he was on some white sand beach holding a cocktail and practically glimmering like a twilight vampire. There he was riding a fucking elephant. There he was holding Annika, grinning with perfect teeth, one of his stupidly chiselled arms draped over her shoulders, Annika looked happy. It would be funny if she weren’t so sickeningly jealous- of what exactly she wasn’t sure. It bubbled in her stomach like indigestion.
“I have news.” Anni said, wandering up behind her “Vodka and wipes are gunna have to do the job.”
“Well, I did bring shot glasses too.” They made a tinkling sound as Anni chinged them together, holding them between her fingers.
“As long as you don’t pull out floss and a sewing needle as well I’m good.”
Hollie had two shots of vodka, Anni had one. She tied her hair back. Hollie found herself staring at her neck as Anni got to work cleaning up the harsh grazes. Considering her chaotic nature and heavy handedness at times, Annika’s touch was gentle and considered. She went about the task as if she’d done it before.
“It’s fine.” The words came out clipped. Hollie wanted to resist her kindness in some way, to be cold, to punish her. Hollie wasn’t sure if it was jealousy of the man in the pictures, of Annika herself, or annoyance from the date, or just the fact that Annika’s sheer perfection was a personal affront to her. Hollie took another shot.
Annika giggled to herself and Hollie snapped back into the moment, suddenly self-conscious.
“What?” She felt like a broken magnet, being drawn to and repelled from Annika all at once.
“Nothing, I just heard my sister in my head telling me I shouldn’t have let you drink because alcohol’s a blood thinner.”
“I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“Yeah,” Annika almost sighed the word “I’ve got a couple.”
Silence set between them for a moment. Hollie wasn’t sure what to do, what to say. She was hurt, dizzy, tired and now tipsy in Annika’s apartment, not the night she expected. What she wanted to say was that she applied for Camp Australia after their failed date. She wanted Annika to feel some kind of way about it, bad, sad, something. As if Hollie might have stayed if it went any other way. Although she knew that probably wasn’t true. Australia was something that she’d wanted for a while, before Anni.
Anni poured them each another shot.
“So do you often run into oncoming traffic or is this a new hobby?” Asked Anni eventually, taking back the vodka smoothly before wrapping Hollie’s leg in a dressing.
“Yeah actually, I heard it’s good for sleep.” Hollie winced a little at the tightening of the bandage.
Annika responded instinctually by holding her hand over the sore area for a moment, an amused smile on her face “The ultimate sleep definitely.”
“From which I’ll never return.” Hollie agreed, smiling back at Anni, their eyes locked. “And are you a secret eater? What’s with the two AM ice cream?”
“I hate being hot.” Anni explained with a smile, standing up and going to the kitchen, collecting a bottle of wine and two glasses as she spoke. “I found this little gelato place near Queens Park on my way home from a session once, it was like three AM, I thought I was dreaming. The woman who owns it, Gianna, I went in and I got chatting with her. I was pissed like. She told me she opens whenever she’s awake, and her arthritis gives her grief when the storms are around, so.”
Annika didn’t ask Hollie if she wanted to partake, she just handed her a full glass. Hollie wasn’t much of a wine person but she accepted the glass eagerly.
“Mint choc-chip is a contentious choice.”
Annika grinned, sitting close on the couch beside her. Hollie tried not to picture Annika getting railed by the blonde-haired, brown-eyed Mr. Hollywood on this couch.
“It was my Granma’s favourite. She always had a tub in the freezer and we’d sit on the couch together late at night when I couldn’t sleep. Watch those crappy eternal reruns of a ghost hunting show, oh my god, what was it called? The main lady, she was so full of shit, all of them were really, I still remember exactly how she screamed, she was called Yvette.” Annika laughed, touching Hollie on the arm before she continued, smiling to herself as if surprised to be caught in the happy memory. Hollie smiled along with her, eyes fixed. “Anyway, when I’m too hot and I can’t sleep I go and see Giana, and I buy an ice cream for my Gran, and we put the world to rights.”
Their conversation rolled on in much the same way as the night progressed and drink flowed. Hollie found Anni so easy to talk to, despite their recent distance and the horrible date, they defaulted to the way things had been from the start. Perhaps because of the transience of their relationship; they’d known each other briefly and Hollie was leaving again soon. Hollie found herself talking about her childhood, things she’d only ever spoken about with her ex and her therapist. Her first kiss, Australia, the kids that bullied her at school. Anni spoke about being the bully, the reasons why. There was a girl that she bullied in school, her friend, the way Anni tentatively described their relationship it smacked classic lesbian energy to Hollie, which made her feel some strange relief.
They went deeper. Hollie spoke about her own family. Her Grandfather, visiting him in Jamaica when she was five or six. The memory box her father had her make when he died. She snuck some gizzada in there; her dad told her not to but it’s what reminded Hollie of her Grandy the most. A few weeks later the house was infested with ants, who’d eaten through the shoe box to get at the sugary remains of the desert. She even found herself telling Anni about how her dad threw that shoe box at her when he found out. Hollie still couldn’t stand ants to this day and her relationship with her dad had pretty much spiralled out from there. Annika scowled at this story and she didn’t ask anymore questions about her dad. Hollie was grateful for that.
Annika talked about how she used to hate the beach. Hollie listened, head swimming with wine as Annika spoke again about her Grandmother whose name was Rosie. Visiting her in England before eventually living with her as a young teen. One summer they sat on Southport beach and Anni was ravaged by sand fleas. She still flinches frantically whenever she feels a tickle on her leg, like Hollie does because of the ants. Anni said the beach made her feel itchy and the sea smelled like salty decay. It used to remind her of death, she said, but that changed. It was something to do with a guy, by the way she skirted around the details Hollie could tell this was a big ex, but she didn’t get a chance to delve deeper because next she told Hollie about the time she drowned. That was in fresh water though, no salt around.
This reminded Hollie of the dream she kept having about drowning before she wakes up and realises she’s tangled in her sheets. Suddenly Hollie remembered what time it was, where she was, the bizarre context for their situation hit her drunken mind like a sobering train. Annika swayed a little as she padded over to the bathroom, leaving Hollie alone in her living room surrounded by photographs of a woman she was sickeningly smitten with, despite herself, and all of her these fucking grinning men.
Hollie stood up and half limped, half swayed her own way over to Annika’s piano. She’d forgotten about her leg, it caught her by surprise and made her wince as she leant her weight on it, although vodka shots and wine had faded the pain somewhat.
Hollie picked up some sheets of music and scribblings strewn about the shiny ebony case, squinting to focus her vision. Some of this was good, like, really good. Hollie could hear the music play in her head. It was sad though, heartsick.
“This is good. Did you write it for your boyfriend?” Hollie blurted out when she heard Annika open the bathroom door.
Hollie instantly felt cold, the courage and spite she held fading fast as the subject she wanted to bring up for weeks finally left her mind and came into contact with reality. Was Annika leading her on, did she have a boyfriend, was she even a little bit gay? Was it just Hollie’s overenthusiastic gay brain making up a flirtationship that wasn’t there? She’d done it before. Hollie braced herself. She felt Annika move up behind her.
“Thanks,” Anni plucked the sheet music from Hollie’s hand and sat at her bench. She was smiling to herself coyly, she could see that Hollie was filled with instant regret. “My boyfriend?”
Hollie pointed to the golden Adonis in the photographs. Annika didn’t say anything, she raised an eyebrow, smirking at Hollie, waiting.
Suddenly it clicked. “Oh no, is that your brother?” She had mentioned a little brother once, the man in the photographs was far from little though. Hollie wanted to sink into the ground.
Annika laughed, “Brotherly, definitely. Don’t let him intimidate you, he’s not competition.” Anni threw her a rue smile before running her fingers along the keys in front of her.
Not competition. Hollie’s brain flared up at that hint towards the sapphic.
“I feel awful about picturing you getting railed by him on the sofa now.”
Annika burst out laughing and naturally the conversation turned to sex, as it so often does with a head full of wine and someone you’re tempted by. Talk of threesomes, fetishises, good sex, bad sex, desires, quickly lead to shameless flirting.
Annika played on the piano ideally as she told Hollie what she would beg “someone” to do to her. Hollie sat next to her straddling the beach to face her. They sat closer than they needed to, their bodies practically touching. Hollie’s hand rested on Anni’s inner thigh, as it had before Annika left that night. Now she was going nowhere. Hollie lost her place in time and the next thing she knew she was singing, her fingers moved gently against the soft pale skin of Anni’s thigh as Annika played. When the song was done they both sat grinning at each other, eyes wide with elation. Hollie’s breath was heavy from belting out the final verse of Taylor Swift’s cardigan- the song they’d always flirted with to warm up at practice.
Anni’s arms relaxed and she pulled them back to her from the ivories. The two sat so close that Hollie’s chest was touching Annika’s shoulder. She moved her arm around the back of Hollie’s neck and Hollie responded by moving her other hand around Annika’s waste. Hollie gripped at the flesh of Annika’s hip. Annika leaned into her, eyes falling shut. Hollie moved into her warmth, running the tip of her nose up Annika’s neck to the back of her ear, breath hot and wanting lips brushing against her hairline in what was almost a kiss. They stayed like that for a moment, Hollie felt like the air around and between them was fizzing with anticipation and potential. She finally, longingly, pressed her lips to Annika’s neck, pulling her body into her even more closely. The hand at her hip moved to the flat of Anni’s stomach, preparing to slide downwards.
Hollie flinched back suddenly as Annika’s hand flew down to grab at Hollie’s. She pulled her head back to see Anni’s expression. Her brow was furrowed tightly and there were almost tears in her eyes; something tied her up in knots. Somewhere in her expression Hollie could see the desire for her, for this, but again, she saw an overriding fear in Annika’s eyes. It was clear in the way her lip quivered. Shame for what she couldn't do, guilt for the fact that she wanted to do it and fear that she almost did. Her expression was an apology.
Hollie moved away, standing up quickly, arms held around her stomach, almost in self-preservation, holding herself together. She felt sickeningly exposed and ridiculous. She let it happen again. Hollie backed away but she forgot about her leg again, having to hop quickly on her good one to stop herself from falling.
For whatever reason, Annika wasn’t ready, no matter how many drinks down she was, no matter how many times they tried this. Hollie flashed back to the image she’d seen one night last week, Annika with a man on the balcony.
“Is it the beach guy?” Hollie could hear the slur in her voice.
Annika’s shoulders were tense, she looked as if she was holding her breath. She didn’t say anything. Part of Hollie was furious that things had gone this far again, that she’d let it happen when in her gut she knew something was off. She’s hung up on this guy.
“If I had you…” Hollie heard herself whisper, her general hatred of men bubbling up in the wake of this situation, a fierce jealousy and deep frustration. She rocked a little on her feet, unsure if her unsteadiness was on account of the alcohol or her aching leg, “I wouldn’t make you feel like this.”
Annika didn’t say anything. She could tell that no one had looked at her the way Hollie was right now in a long time.
Hollie left. She left her jacket. Realising after she closed the door. Hollie thought she heard Annika let out the sob she saw her holding tightly in her chest. She didn’t go back in.
As Hollie wobbled through the revolving doors to leave the building she just about noticed someone holding a neon pink helmet under their arm coming through in the other direction.
“Fucking asshole!” She cried out behind her, almost falling into the street of bewildered passers by making their way about their morning commutes in the gentle beginnings of the day.
