Love/Fail

Chapter 8

Annoying Pinspiration Quote #8

"You never fail until you stop trying."

Flemington Racecourse was void of horses. Instead, it was jam packed with people wearing white; either Rupert had roped me in for a cult mass wedding, or there was something even stranger going on.

The man himself gallivanted next to me, as excitable as a lamb on the first day of spring. He wore white harem pants and a fitted white tee, his lean form showing through in tempting lines. With a white bandana covering his trademark hair and a pair of Audrey Hepburn sunglasses shielding half his face, he was incognito and gorgeous. "What do you think? Mia love, this is brilliant, init?"

"I still don't know what's happening."

"Lord, woman, work it out! Your observation skills are so sharp, I swear it's like chatting with the love child of Sherlock Holmes and Dr House. Now, there's a power couple... TV series idea! Write that down!"

I adjusted my loose long-sleeved shirt, and laughed. "Rupert, just tell me."

He gripped me by the shoulders and guided me towards a sign in area with towering signs proclaiming "COLOUR RUN!" in hysterical capitals. "Thought we might get some exercise for the first half of our date. What do you think, love?"

"Awesome!" I squealed, turning to hug him. "I've always wanted to do one of these! I'm not a great runner, so who knows if I'll even finish, that that's not the point."

Rupert snuck his hand down and squeezed my bottom. "Boop! I'm glad you're excited!"

I squeezed his butt in return, and he shrieked in delight. Pulling away, he said, "Watch it, blank canvas – bottom pinching might send a message that you actually think I have a cute butt and that you wish to take photos of it and make a plaster cast of it for your wall to talk to as you fall asleep each night."

"How do you know I don't?"

"Oi!" He clutched at his heart. "You're ruining me for other women, you know that?"

"Good." I grabbed his hand, happy to be the one doing the man-handling for once. "Come on!"

We raced to the tables, signed in and headed for the starting line. All around us, people milled and laughed in the brightness of the Saturday morning. Many were already adding colour to their outfits, with bottles of fluro nail polish and hair dye being applied liberally.

Rupert and I plonked down on the grass near a group of happy friends, and it seemed all too natural when Rupert drew me between his legs and let me lean back on his chest. "This is nice," I said, closing my eyes and allowing myself to indulge in the moment.

Rupert's voice was surprisingly serious. "Yeah, it is."

I felt him kiss the top of my head, and we sat that way, suspended in the blissful anticipation of friends about to become something much more.

A girl from the group of friends next to us leaned over and broke the moment, saying, "Hey, do you guys want some hair chalk? We've got heaps left over."

"Sure! Thanks!" I took the blue stick from her and turned to Rupert. "Can you put this in my hair?"

He frowned slightly. "Are you sure, Mia love? Does that stuff wash out?"

"The wrapper says it's only temporary."

"But you have such pretty hair," he said, picking up the end of my very long braid and making it dance. Wagging it in time with his words, he used it as a puppet to say, "Please, Mia! Don't make us blue! Otherwise we'll be forced to take action and strangle you in your sleep!"