Hanleigh's London

Chapter 3: I Might As Well Be Mary Poppins

"You're the perfectly behaved one. Not me."

"Ha ha."

I pout jokingly but secretly I'm thinking just how right she is.

Everyone calls me perfect; the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the perfect friend. Practically perfect in every way; I might as well be fricking Mary Poppins.

I was brought up on a list of rules longer than the Empire States Building is tall and I don't remember the last time I broke one. I even live in this flat because it's what my parents expect me to do.

I've got the list of rules memorised - no small feat considering the length of the list.

Don't drink to excess and never get drunk, perhaps the most ironic of the rules considering my mother's secret drinking problem.

Don't do drugs; not even just to try it, just don't do it. I can still remember that rather long conversation with my father when I first started secondary school.

Don't lie. Never cheat on a test. Always be the best, get the best grades, be competitive but be generous and gracious.

Don't do anything that might put you in danger.

Work hard. Be selfless. Don't dress inappropriately; only wear skirts that fall below the knee. Go to church. Sing in the choir. Find yourself a 'nice Christian boy' and settle down, get married and have children... and above all else never ever have s*x outside of wedlock.

I've kept every single rule my parents have ever given me. My little sister is the one who breaks the rules, not me. But sometimes, I get really jealous of her because I want to be the rebellious one.

"Right, well... If we're going out, I better go have a shower. I've been in a car for the last three hours. I probably smell almost as bad as you do, Cam."

Tallulah leans forward, sniffing Cameron while suggestively giving him the eye.

"Definitely almost," she adds before jumping off the sofa and flouncing out of the room before he can react.

Cameron leans back, resting his head on the back of the sofa.

"I'm so glad she's back," he says with a sigh.

"Me too."

I lie down next to him, putting my feet in his lap and he automatically picks them up and starts kneading the sole of my left foot.

"I'm surprised you're free tonight," I say casually.

Cameron is studying medicine, so he spends most of his time in the library and when he's not in the library, he's usually with whatever girl he's found on campus that day.

"Nothing I can't cancel."

Cameron shrugs unapologetically.

"Really?" I laugh at his offhandness. "What's her name?"

"Katie."

"Where did you meet her?"

"Class," Cameron replies. "She's the girl who keeps offering me sweets during lectures. I'm convinced she's trying to get me fat."

"Chance would be a fine thing."

We're quiet for a few minutes. My thoughts are all over the place as I consider the differences between me and my friends.

Both Cameron and Lou go after what they want. Tallulah moved halfway down the country - well, okay maybe not, but she moved two counties away - to follow her dream of being an artist and Cameron... Cameron is never scared to do what he wants; whatever he wants when he wants. It's almost like his flipping motto.

They don't ever worry about what everyone else thinks or anything.

I envy them.

Breaking the silence, I ask, "Are people serious when they call me perfect?"

"D*mn right they are. You're my little school teacher, after all," Cam laughs before glancing my way seriously, "but Rory that's not a bad thing."

That's what I love about Cameron. He never judges me, unlike my family.

"It feels like a bad thing," I admit shyly. "I better get ready. I've got to look my absolute perfect best."

I'm ashamed to hear the bitterness in my voice. I get to my feet and walk towards the door before turning back.

"How many of my parents' rules do you think I can break tonight?" I ask with an easy tone that most people wouldn't recognise for the lie it is.

The laughter has returned to Cameron's eyes.

"Let's see... at least five or six."

He's not serious. We've had this conversation so many times. He doesn't expect me to break a single rule tonight. He's only humouring me and that leaves me feeling strangely disappointed with myself.

"As long as I don't break the fricking golden rule."

I laugh tightly, feeling that bitter disappointment in my chest as if it were a heavy weight that could cause me to sink to the bottom of the ocean.

"See, you're so perfect you can't even swear properly," he teases me.

"Fricking is a swear word."

"No, it's not. It's what mums say instead of swearing when they are sitting in the car with their kids."

"That is so not true."

Is it?

"Is too!" Cameron winks at me before pulling his shirt over his head. "I call dibs on your shower."

"Fine," I force my eyes to stay fixed on the blue spheres of his eyes instead of staring at his chest, "but you better hurry because I want a shower too."

"You could always join me," Cameron retorts, "knock off a rule from your parents' list."

I blush scarlet.

"I probably should work my way up to the golden rule. Start with something small. Get drunk on tequila or something."

"Sounds like a good start," Cameron calls from my bedroom as he enters my en-suite.