The Dark Part of Me Read Online Free PDF

inside. I wonder how many men, at that precise moment, have
erections. The music stops and a hush falls over the room. A drum roll. The girl pushes her fingers further inside, her eyes closed, her mouth hanging open. Purple-eyes gulps. The drum roll
finishes and the girl takes one large step forwards to the edge of the stage. She’s pulling something out of herself, something small, round and shiny which glistens under the spotlight. Then
another shiny thing and another. I squint up at the stage. A roar goes up from the crowd. Loud, eager clapping and then I twig. The string of pearls. Each one coming out quicker now as the crowd
goes wild and one man, rushing forwards, snatches the pearls and stuffs them in his mouth.
    ‘That’ll be Garvo,’ says Purple-eyes.
    ‘That’s disgusting!’
    ‘It’s not meant for chicks. Unless, of course, you’re a dyke. C’mon, want a lift or not?’
    I hesitate. ‘But I don’t know your name.’
    ‘Scott.’
    ‘Rosie.’
    He grabs my hand and kisses it like in the movies.

    That night, Scott didn’t stop talking the whole way home, rattling off a compendium of ‘getting to know you’ facts about himself while I conscientiously took
it all in like I was going to be tested. He told me he was nineteen, three years older than me. He’d just finished second year Human Movement Studies at Queensland Uni. He said his best mates
were Bomber and Muzza and that he’d known them since kindergarten; he had an older brother called Nick who played in a band; his favourite colour was Kermit-the-frog green; and his favourite
number was seven. He told me he was mad about sport, especially basketball, water polo and cricket; and his Mum’s beef lasagne was his favourite food, followed closely by Big Rooster’s
chicken fillet fingers. By then, we were turning into my street.
    ‘Here’s fine.’ I pointed at the kerb, feeling like a little girl being driven home from school.
    ‘That your house?’ He pulled over, switching off the ignition.
    ‘Yep.’ I prayed Mum wouldn’t come storming out in her chenille.
    ‘Still scabbing off the oldies?’
    ‘Yeah,’ I admitted, trying to sound tough.
    ‘Me, too,’ he said. ‘Mum and Dad mind their own business, though. My bedroom’s downstairs so I pretty much do what I like.’ I pictured my tiny, pink room, smackers
in the middle of the house, and my single bed.
    We sat in the dark interior of his 1979 Gemini, listening to the engine contract, the cool night air slipping in around our bodies. I pressed my palms against the bare tops of my inner thighs. A
new sensation burned in my gut. Sick excitement. I felt his eyes on my neck, my shoulders, my legs.
    ‘Lucky you don’t live far,’ I blurted out.
    Scott grinned. ‘Lucky for what?’
    ‘Nothing,’ I said, burning up. ‘I’d better go. Thanks for the lift.’ I fumbled with the door handle.
    ‘Door’s fucked from the inside. I’m afraid you’re stuck in here, babe. Unless of course you want to climb over me.’ His tone was light and playful but when I tried
the door again it wouldn’t budge.
    ‘No kidding. This car’s a piece of shit.’ I thought about winding down the window and opening the door from the outside but instead I undid my seat-belt and, flipping onto my
knees, crawled over the hand-brake. I wrapped my arms around his neck for leverage and hoisted myself on to his lap. The steering wheel dug into my back and my head butted against the ceiling. My
chest was level with his nose. I turned to the door but it was locked, the button wedged beneath his elbow.
    ‘Move your elbow, please,’ I said. But his hand was behind my head, pulling me towards him. Our lips met and I was amazed at the softness of his mouth. He held the kiss then pushed
his tongue inside, sliding it over my teeth and my gums. His mouth tasted sweet, of red cordial mingled with something even sweeter, like caramel. His tongue was smooth and slippery, gentle yet
insistent. I pulled