"Their mouths seem to fit perfectly": an OE
By the time Tanya and Mae arrive at their little cheap Airbnb, it’s as hot as a sauna.
All Tanya wants to do is shower and collapse but Mae insists on going out to explore.
"We’re in Europe!" She kept shouting, eyes alight. Her curly black hair is frizzed from the flight, cheeks flushed with thrill. "We have to make the most of it!"
Tanya has never been good at saying no to Mae, so they slipped their sticky sandals on and stepped into the city’s cobbled streets.
And it is beautiful. Even though she feels like she was behind a glass wall, Tanya can’t deny the allure of it all - the colourful buildings, the clear pale sky, the new smells and sounds and accents and Mae in a white dress, soaring through the streets like a paper plane. But after a while Tanya feels like her legs might stop obeying her brain and she might accidentally walk in front of a car and die.
She says she had to go back to the apartment and sleep and is thrilled when Mae agreed. Part of her was scared that Mae would say ‘you go, I’ll stay out,’ and then Tanya would have to go back to the empty apartment and worry about Mae being kidnapped or hooking up with a stranger in a bar.
*
Now, they lie atop the faded red duvet on their double bed. It’s hot enough to melt plastic. Sweat coats their limbs in a heavy film even though they just showered.
"I didn’t realise it would be this hot," Tanya groans. Her body feels like it’s decomposing.
"It’s been getting worse recently. You know, global warming," Mae replies, swiping at her forehead with the back of her arm.
Even with sweat glistening on her forehead, even dressed in faded underwear and an unmatching bra, she looks amazing. Her thighs spill out over the bed, sticky and golden.
Every time Tanya closes her eyes, it’s like her brain thinks she’s in a sauna and wants her up and out. Little rivulets of sweat slide down her face and onto the pillow. The sheets around her feet feel gummy and moist.
"I can’t sleep," Tanya whispers. She turns to look at Mae but Mae doesn’t reply. She’s already asleep.
Normally such a forceful presence, Mae’s face becomes soft in sleep, her lips slightly open. Tanya can see specks of sweat at Mae’s elbows, little shimmers on her stomach. Tanya resists the urge to reach out and slide her fingers through them.
For a second, Tanya feels far too awake. She realises that it’s been a while since she’s slept next to Mae.
Mae’s body exudes heat. Too close.
*
Tanya wakes up with a start. The room is bright, the window a little golden square.
"You’re finally up."
Mae is sitting at the end of their bed, already dressed and made up. She’s in a red dress that hugs her waist and flows out around her legs. Her lips are shiny, her lashes long.
"How long have you been up?"
"About an hour. I thought I’d let you sleep."
That was unexpectedly considerate of Mae.
"Didn’t want you to be tired and grumpy," Mae adds.
"Have you eaten?" Tanya asks, after a pause.
"No, should we go find breakfast?"
Twenty minutes later they’re sitting on a little table outside in the cobbled street. Across the street is a tourist shop selling postcards and usual tourist things. Tanya and Mae scan the QR code on the table to look at the menu, a selection of sandwiches, omelettes, and pastries. A smiling waiter with comes over. He starts to something in Portuguese and Mae says "English?" a little too promptly for Tanya’s liking. She doesn’t want to be one of the tourists that doesn’t even try. But the waiter immediately switches into perfect English and they order omelettes and coffee without a hitch.
"I hope the coffee’s good here," Tanya says.
"I’m sure it’s fine," Mae replies, distracted by her phone. The sun catches against the corner of the phone screen, reflecting back on her face. Tanya wonders if Mae has her phone at full brightness or not. In the past, Mae went on about protecting her eyes and ears. She even bought noise cancelling headphones, to better watch Youtube videos on the bus.
Tanya likes to live in the moment. She wants to feel like she’s really here, in Lisbon, sitting in the sun for breakfast, but she’s feeling off.
At the other tables, there are couples, families, women by themselves with open books. This country is vibrant and nobody even looks at Tanya, just another tourist in a million. Around her, people walk by, chatting in Portuguese that Tanya can’t understand. Tanya feels trapped by her non-comprehension. She likes listening into conversations but now she feels like the only person she can talk to is Mae and Mae is on her phone.
Tanya can’t help but wonder who she’s messaging. Is Mae seeing someone and not telling her? Is it another best friend? Tanya knows these kind of thoughts are possessive and unhealthy, but she can’t help it.
"Who are you talking to?"
It comes out against her will, almost defensive in tone. Tanya mentally bites her tongue but it’s too late.
"Oh, just a friend."
Mae doesn’t even look up. She knows Tanya gets like this – all insecure and anxious – but she doesn’t indulge it. Tanya wonders why she ever thought travelling with Mae was a good idea. Even though it was Tanya’s idea.
*
"So, I’m looking at this bloggers recommendations in Lisbon," Mae says. "What do you feel like doing today? There are beaches, museums, cathedrals, or a boat trip across to Cacilhas. One day we should go to Sintra. Apparently it’s a must-see."
"I don’t really mind," Tanya says honestly. She’s just happy to be here with Mae, to explore new cities and make memories nobody else can replace.
"Okay, what if we went to São Jorge castle this morning? It’s meant to have this amazing view."
When Mae reads on her phone she squints a little bit. A tiny bit of mascara rubs off on her cheek. Tanya leans forward and smears it off with her finger.
"Sounds good," Tanya says.
They eat their omelettes, drink their coffee, pay, and leave. They’re staying slightly out of the heart of Lisbon so the streets become increasingly busy the further they walk. By the time they reach São Jorge, the streets choke with tourists.
"I hate tourists," Mae says.
"We’re tourists," Tanya points out.
"Yeah, I know, I know. Still though.’ Mae laughs, tilting her head back. Her sunglasses glint in the light.
They decide to buy their tickets on their phones to skip the line.
The public internet keeps failing so Tanya keeps having to reload the page. Finally, she gets her ticket. Looking up, it seems that Mae already has hers. She’s looking around at everything, radiant in an orange crop top and black skirt.
"Got mine," Tanya says, making Mae look at her. Mae smiles.
"Let’s go then." Without waiting even a beat, she starts walking knowing that Tanya will follow her.
*
The sun burns their shoulders while they stare across the expanse of Lisbon.
In the distance, the sea is a line of intense blue.
"Isn’t it beautiful?" Mae’s face is a mask of awe, the city absorbed in her smile.
"Yeah."
Tanya is looking at Mae, the city fading to mere background. Without being fully aware of her actions, Tanya takes Mae’s hand.
Mae squeezes Tanya’s palm. Then she pulls Tanya into a hug.
"Isn’t it amazing that we’re here together?" she says, voice bright. Tanya buries herself in Mae’s collarbone and breathes. "This is the best." Tanya’s voice comes out muffled. She doesn’t want to move. For a second, it seems like everything’s going to go exactly the way she wants.
Then Mae pulls away. She goes back to looking at the view and Tanya reluctantly looks too. What did she want here? Did she really think Mae would fall in love with her in Europe?
Mae starts walking across the flat stones, marvelling at ancient tables and archways. She wants Tanya to take a picture of her under an archway so Tanya snaps several in quick succession. Afterwards, Mae wants a stranger to take a picture of the two of them. In the picture, she has an arm wrapped around Tanya. Tanya wishes it were more than friendly. She finds it difficult to keep her smile pasted on her face.
After an hour or so, Mae thinks they’ve seen everything so they leave the castle. Back in the streets, they start looking for somewhere to eat lunch. Is this how it’s always going to be? Wandering the streets, aimless except for the next thing? Tanya’s heart feels like its retching. Being all the way over here with Mae is too much. This empty, joyous tourism is salt in a wound.
At a café, Mae asks if Tanya is okay. It’s a cute café. They’re sitting in a little outdoor area with tiny wooden tables and large yellow umbrellas for shade. People pass by quickly, not so much as looking at them.
"You’ve been quiet today."
"I’m always quiet."
"Something’s off with you. I can feel it," Mae says, as if she’s so perceptive.
"Can you? Can you really?"
It comes out more bitter than intended.
"What’s up with you?"
Mae’s lips purse together when she’s concerned. It makes her cheeks puff slightly. She waits for Tanya to speak but Tanya has no idea how to start.
The moment stretches and dies and eventually Mae pulls out her phone.
About five minutes later, she speaks again.
"Let’s go out tonight. Like out out. Get proper drunk. Whatever you’re feeling, let it go. We’re in Europe! We deserve to have fun."
*
Five hours later, they stand in front of the mirror in the Airbnb bathroom. Mae’s in a criss-cross push-up bralette, leather shorts, fake lashes, and dark lipstick. Tanya’s in a little black dress with a red lip and heeled boots. When she’s dressed up she always feels like she’s mimicking someone else’s life.
"Let’s take some photos on the balcony," Mae sings, shimmying her hips. "I can’t get over how hot we are!"
They move to the balcony and Mae takes three photos of Tanya and Tanya takes eighty-four of Mae. While Mae leans over the balcony, sticking out her chest and pursing her lips, Tanya contorts herself around the little table, trying to capture Mae at her best.
After that, they drain a 3 euro bottle of sangria and mix cosmopolitans which they drink fast.
Tanya can feel the alcohol in her body dissipating her thoughts, flushing up her chest, filling her with glittery bravado. Everything seems possible. They’re going to dance, they’re going to party, and she’s in Europe with her best friend!
Mae’s equally buzzed. She can’t stop laughing, pointing at the people in the street, yelling down at them. The evening-arriving tourists smile and wave at these two made-up girls on the balcony. Everybody loves tipsy girls.
Tanya knows something’s going to happen tonight. The certainty follows her as they stumble through the streets at midnight, pausing first to smoke a joint with a friendly stranger on the street, pushing their way into a club called Tóxico.
Inside, it’s packed. They dance hot and close, and only now does Tanya remember the heat. It’s impossible to forget – everyone is drenched in sweat. For long moments, Tanya forgets she’s in a club.
She’s in an interactive art piece in a theatre and everybody is a painter, their bodies the brushes. She swipes her arms on the writhing bodies around her and liquid glistens across their backs, their faces. They move in an undulating mass, sweat pooling beneath their feet, the roving neon casting everyone in stark contrast, dripping black eyes, jangling necklaces.
The night comes in and out.
Mae’s face lit up white while she screams along with the song.
Dancing with a women whose hands grasp at her shoulders while she tries to spin Tanya like a merry-go-round.
3 euro shots at the bar, candy and poison.
The stark relief of the bathroom, listening to girls talk in Portuguese and it’s almost like Tanya can understand it.
Back on the floor, then the street again, then another club, another mass.
Another street, another club, black and white and silver.
And Mae is kissing a girl.
Mae’s kissing a girl?
Without thinking at all, Tanya’s pushing between them, her body up against Mae, confrontational, what are you doing Mae, the girl is staring at her, turning away, disappearing into the crowd, Mae glaring, then concerned, what’s going on, why is everything blurring, nothing is making any sense, everything is so wet, everything is melting.
*
Now they’re back on their bed at the Airbnb. They made it, laughing, crawling, skipping through the streets, sun already rising, limbs electric.
"I kissed a girl!"
Mae is vibrant, knee up on bed, face alight.
"And you liked it?"
Tanya laughs, moves closer so their faces touch.
"I liked it." Mae’s voice is thick, sloshed. "And I wanna do it again."
There’s maybe 7cm between them. Eyes moist, air between them thick as blood. Mae slips her leg over Tanya’s, skin slippery wet.
"What do you think? We’re in Europe and you’re my best friend. It wouldn’t be weird."
She slides her arm around Tanya’s shoulders, pulling her closer so they’re chest to chest, like they’ve been a million times before but this is different. Tanya can feel every tense muscle in Mae’s stomach, the radiating warmth of her thighs. It’s so hot it burns.
Tanya’s head is still spaced out but Mae’s body feels so good. It’s what she’s wanted for so long.
Tanya kisses Mae and their mouths seem to fit perfectly. Mae’s mouth is generous and full-lipped and hungry. The two of them shift, legs and arms around each other - and now hands are roving across damp skin, searching and finding, tearing at sticky straps, relishing and tasting and claiming.
*
The afternoon finds them still in bed. The sheets are moist, their bodies steaming. Dried streaks crust across Tanya’s thighs, her stomach. Her forehead pounds.
Slowly, she opens her eyes but the light is harsh and painful. Her eyelids feel heavy and sticky. With a groan, she waits for her eyes to adjust. The room is bright, messy, the air thick with sweat and sex and alcohol. Next to her, Mae’s splayed out, her body syrupy. In painful flashes, Tanya remembers hours earlier, her hands on Mae’s chest, Mae’s tongue on her stomach. She has no idea what to do now. She decides to take a shower.
*
Fifteen minutes later, she returns to the room to find Mae awake and sitting up. Tanya opens the window, hoping to clear the stench out of the room.
"Good night last night right?" Mae’s voice is groggy but cheerful.
She has no fucking idea what she’s done.
"Yeah." Tanya’s voice is flat. She can hardly look at Mae with her bare chest, her breasts so full and present. They seem to take up too much space in the room.
Half of her wants to run back to Mae, to curl into her, to say ‘let’s do it again.’ But she knows she can’t. Not now, when Mae’s leaning back against the wooden headboard, already texting whichever boy she’s currently texting, completely unaware that Tanya’s teeth feel like wood even though she’s already brushed her teeth. Is there anything worse than to get what you want but it’s not really what you want?
"Want to go and get breakfast somewhere?" Mae asks.
"It’s 4pm," Tanya replies.
"And? We could have a cocktail. You know, hair of the dog." Mae’s laughing now. "I can’t believe we had sex! We could have been having sex all these years."
Tanya doesn’t say anything.
"Like, why not right? We’re best friends."
Tanya doesn’t want to be near Mae right now. She wants to go for a long walk. Maybe leave the country.
"You’re not feeling weird about it are you?"
Mae’s gaze follows Tanya as she moves to the door, puts on her shoes.
"Where are you going?"
Tanya doesn’t know.
Emma Sidnam was awarded the 2022 Michael Gifkins Prize for the manuscript of her novel Backwaters, set to be published by Text in September.
