I stifled a laugh and Stu grinned. ‘So you can smile after all! I was beginning to wonder.’
‘Aren’t you cold?’
He looked down as if he’d forgotten he wasn’t wearing a top. ‘Nah, I’m hard as nails, me. Anyway, it’s pretty toasty in here, isn’t it? Kind of cosy.’
I shrugged. I’d run out of things to say. He was watching me carefully, head tilted to one side, eyes slightly narrowed. Analysing me. ‘Can I kiss you?’
I definitely wasn’t expecting that. ‘Why would you want to do that?’
He shrugged. ‘I dunno. Bored I guess.’ He saw the look on my face and held up his hands. ‘Kidding!’ He shrugged again. ‘I like kissing . . . and you seem nice. Those seem like two pretty good reasons to me.’
My head was spinning. Stu Hicks aka Mr Studly wanted to kiss me. It had to be a joke. It had to be. My mouth was dry and I coughed nervously. ‘This is a joke, right? Your mates are watching outside or something . . .’
Stu hopped from his perch and knelt in front of me. I had an absurd drunken thought that maybe he was going to whip out a diamond ring from the pocket of his jeans and ask me to marry him. He put his hands on my thighs and I didn’t stop him. His voice was low and serious when he said, ‘This is not a joke. Trust me.’
Trust me. People who say things like that are usually deeply untrustworthy or trying to get you to do something you don’t want to do. But I was slightly pissed and a boy wanted to kiss me. That’s a poor excuse for an excuse, I know, but it’s all I’ve got. A part of my brain was whispering that this was a terrible idea and something I would never ever do when sober. But a bigger, bossier part of my brain was saying, Go on, do it. Live a little. So what if he’s a total slimeball? It could be fun . . . ‘OK.’
Stu grinned. ‘Good girl.’ He leaned in close and I did the same, a bit more tentatively. The smell of sweat and beer was almost overwhelming, but I tried to ignore it. Our lips met and I nearly laughed again. This is utterly insane. But then I kind of got into it. The kissing was soft and gentle and not at all like I would have imagined it. I put one of my hands on his chest and I could feel his heartbeat. After a couple of minutes Stu pulled away. ‘Man, my knees are killing me . . . Why don’t you get down here with me?’
The look I gave him must have been dripping with scepticism, because he smiled a really sweet smile and said, ‘Seriously, I’m still trying to get over a tae kwon do injury . . . help me out here.’
So I slid off the chair and settled myself with my back against it. His hand was back on my thigh in no time, stroking. ‘There . . . that’s better, isn’t it?’
I shrugged. Something about this boy had turned me into a malleable, brainless idiot. This time I made the move to kiss him. Drunk Me had decided that kissing Stu was a Good Thing To Do.
Before I knew what was happening, Drunk Me was lying on the dusty floor of a greenhouse with a boy on top of her. The kissing was considerably less gentle. Stu’s tongue was scouring my mouth and it felt more like being at the dentist than anything else. His hands were everywhere – on my breasts and between my legs and they kept on squeezing and stroking and probing as if they couldn’t make up their mind where to settle.
The part of my brain that thought this wasn’t such a good idea was now working harder to make itself heard. It was practically screaming now. But sometimes Stu would do something right and my breath would catch in my throat.
It was only when he unbuttoned my jeans and tried to jam his hand into my underwear that I came to my senses. I grabbed his hand and held it. ‘Come on,’ he murmured into my ear. His hot breath made me think of a dog. ‘I just want to make you feel good.’
I burst out laughing. ‘That is the cheesiest thing I have ever heard! Don’t tell me girls actually fall for that.’
He stopped kissing my neck and looked at me strangely. I was suddenly aware of the weight of him crushing down on me. ‘Don’t you trust me?’ Now his hand was meandering up and down my stomach. It tickled.
‘Honestly? I don’t even know you.’
‘We can soon change that, can’t we?’ He dived in for another kiss and his hand snaked down and tried to sneak into my underwear again. When he touched me there it felt so good (seriously good) that I knew it had to stop. Now.
I pushed at his chest. ‘I . . . I have to go.’
He kissed me again. ‘You’re kidding, right?’
‘I’ve got a curfew. My parents will kill me if I’m late.’ I tried to squirm out from under him but he didn’t move. ‘Can you . . . um . . . get off me, please?’
‘C’mon, let’s just . . . it won’t take long, I promise.’
‘No, I really have to go.’
Stu wasn’t smiling any more. That look was back. The one that warned any girl with half a brain to stay away. For the very first time I realized the predicament I was in and I wanted to kick myself.
He grabbed both my wrists and pinned them either side of my head. ‘You’re not going anywhere till I say so.’ His voice was so menacing that I felt a stab of genuine ice-cold fear. He is going to rape me. This cannot be happening. I cannot get raped by this boy.
I couldn’t move – at all. He was crazily strong. The muscles in his arms stood out like ropes underneath his skin. The only part of my body that I could move was my head. Which was exactly what I did. I headbutted him as hard as I could and caught him on the nose. ‘Ah, fuck! FUCK!’ His hands flew up to his nose and he rolled off me.
I scrabbled to my feet and stood over him. There was blood trickling between his fingers. ‘What the fuck did you do that for, you stupid bitch?’ He looked up at me and his eyes were brimming with tears.
I was breathing hard and shaking. I knew I should probably run and get help, but Stu looked so pathetic. There was nothing remotely menacing about him any more. ‘You were going to . . .’
‘Going to what?’ His voice had gone nasal, thick with blood.
‘You know . . .’
He snorted and a fine spray of blood showered his chest. ‘What . . . like, rape you or something?! You’re fucking certifiable, you know that? I was joking, for fuck’s sake! You didn’t need to break my bloody nose, you mad cow.’
That stopped me. ‘No, you . . .’ I didn’t believe him. I didn’t. But what if he was telling the truth? ‘You were joking?’
He staggered to his feet, using one bloody hand to steady himself against the workbench. ‘Of course I was joking! You honestly think I need to go round raping girls to get some action?’ He shook his head and looked at me like I was insane. ‘They’re right about you, aren’t they? You are a freak.’
I was shaking my head, trying to clear the fuzziness and confusion that had replaced the fear. ‘I was . . . I was scared.’
Stu shook his head in disgust. ‘Haven’t you ever had it rough before? Girls usually love it. Then again, you’re not exactly my usual type.’ How someone who was bleeding so profusely could manage a look of such disdain was beyond me.
Girls actually liked being treated like that? I found that very hard to believe. It was just so . . . twisted. And I hadn’t imagined the look on his face, had I? Total power, total dominance. But maybe this is what people did. Maybe I was a freak? I didn’t know what to think any more. I wanted to be at home in my own bed so I could pretend nothing had happened. So I could pretend that I hadn’t very nearly had sex with someone I despised who may or may not have wanted to rape me.
He looked around for something to mop up the blood and I handed him some tissues from my pocket. ‘Hadn’t you better get home? That curfew, remember? I think it’s way past your bedtime, little girl.’
‘I . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . .’
He moved towards me and I backed up against the wall. His eyes were hard, unforgiving. ‘You, darlin’, are what’s known as a cock tease. You want to watch yourself in future . . . You never know what could happen to a girl like you.’ His voice was a raw whisper and the rusty smell of blood nearly made me gag.
<
br /> ‘Don’t you dare threaten me!’ I pushed him hard on the chest and he stumbled backwards.
He laughed, but there was no humour in it whatsoever. ‘I wouldn’t dream of threatening you, darlin’. I’m a gentleman. Think of it more like a friendly warning. Now get the fuck out of here. And if you breathe a word of this to anyone . . .’
chapter eight
I grabbed my jacket and ran out of the greenhouse. Back in the real world, nothing had changed. The bonfire was still blazing, people were still drunk. And no one had any idea what had just happened. Maybe if I pretended hard enough I could convince myself that it had been a bad dream. But I could still feel his hands all over me, his tongue in my mouth. I could still taste the panic.
I hurried to another quiet corner of the garden and took out my mobile with shaking hands. I texted Kai: Home. Now. Please. x
I waited for a few minutes – no reply. I kept looking over my shoulder, half-expecting Stu to jump out at me like some horror-movie psycho.
Right. Pull yourself together. Kai’s probably left his phone somewhere. Find him and go home. Pretend that nothing happened. Easy. I’d already decided not to tell him, without even making a conscious decision about it. Telling him wasn’t even an option. He wouldn’t understand. There was no way he would be able to comprehend why I would do something like that – why I’d put myself in that situation. He probably wouldn’t even be able to get past the idea of me kissing Stuart Hicks.
How could I ever begin to explain it to him? What could I possibly say that would make him understand, even a little bit?
Because I was drunk.
Because I was curious.
Because I was horny.
Because he was there.
And you weren’t.
I ran my hands through my hair and dusted down the back of my jeans. Took a deep breath and headed back into the fray. Just put on a brave face for a few more minutes, then you can go home.
I couldn’t see Kai outside anywhere. I asked a couple of people (only those with friendly-ish faces), but no one had seen him. A quick scan of the ground floor of the house revealed the following: Bugs pretending to hump Lucas as he bent over to get something out of the fridge; a couple getting busy on the sofa while some other people watched, jeering and laughing; some boys looking at porn on the computer in the study; Stu sitting in a corner smirking at his phone, probably trying to distract himself from the bits of tissue stuffed up his nose. I backed away fast before he noticed me.
I stood in the hallway trying to figure out what to do. I phoned Kai but he didn’t answer. If he’d bailed on me, I was going to be so pissed off. And if he was off having fun without me somewhere, I was going to be equally pissed off. I wondered briefly if I should check out upstairs, but there was a baby-gate across the bottom of the stairs with a handwritten sign taped to it: ‘ACCESS DENIED. If you ignore this sign, I will kill you. (Bugs and Stu: I will kill you twice as hard, so don’t even think about it.)’
Considering what was going on in the living room, I didn’t want to think about what might be happening upstairs. And the last thing I wanted to do was make an enemy of Max as well as Stu. If Kai was up there, he was going to have to fend for himself. I texted him to say I was heading home and that I hoped he was enjoying his lone-wolf adventure. The relief when I closed the front door behind me was so immense that I just stood there savouring it for a few seconds. I breathed in the cool night air and got a lungful of smoke instead. Louise was sitting leaning against the wall. She had a bottle of wine in one hand and a fag in the other. Classy lady.
‘Louise, hi! Have you seen Kai anywhere? I’ve been looking for him for ages and no one seems to have seen him.’
She turned to look at me and I saw that she’d been crying. ‘How about you just fuck off home, OK?’ Her voice was muffled and somewhat mucousy.
And there I’d been just about to ask if she was all right. Charming. ‘Right. Delightful talking to you – as per usual. Look, if you see Kai, can you tell him I had to go home? I’m not feeling too well.’
She looked at me like I’d just asked her to solve a particularly complex equation and eventually answered with a not-very-helpful ‘Whatever’.
‘Thanks, I really appreciate it.’ I kept any trace of sarcasm out of my voice, because somehow I thought she’d find it more irritating this way. I hoped so, anyway.
The walk home was cold and lonely. Except I’m not all that sure it was cold – I just couldn’t stop shivering. I was angry at Kai for making me go to the stupid party in the first place and then deserting me. Angry at Stu for doing whatever it was that he’d done. Angry at Louise for living down to expectations and being a total mega-bitch at every opportunity. And angry at myself most of all for so many reasons I couldn’t hold them all in my head at the same time.
Somehow I managed to negotiate the notoriously tricky parental greeting. Dad had gone to bed, but Mum was still there, curled up on the sofa with a cup of tea. No matter how many times I told her she didn’t have to wait up for me, she always did. She asked lots of questions about the party and each answer took us further and further away from the truth. She was so interested and so lovely I wanted to cry. But then she went and ruined it all by saying, ‘I’m so pleased you’re making some new friends. You know what they say – it’s never a good idea to put all your eggs in one basket.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Kai is not a basket, Mother. He’s my best friend.’
‘I know he is, sweetie. And I love Kai to bits – you know that! But a girl needs to be around other girls from time to time.’
I picked myself up from the sofa and kissed Mum on the forehead. I wasn’t in the mood for an argument. ‘Whatever you say, Mother.’
She tutted and said, ‘Enough with the Mother thing! You know you only call me that when you want me to shut up.’
I raised my eyebrows and said nothing. She laughed and said, ‘Off to bed with you. We’re going to IKEA first thing in the morning and you’re not getting out of it just because you’re tired . . . or hungover.’ Now it was her chance to raise her eyebrows and smile knowingly. I scarpered while the going was good. Mum doesn’t mind me having the occasional drink; she’s pretty cool that way.
The tears appeared as soon as I shut my bedroom door. I shouldn’t have been surprised but somehow I was. I lay on my bed and sobbed and sobbed until my tear ducts were dry and my pillow was sodden.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Stu. It didn’t seem real. It didn’t seem like something that could have happened to me. The world must have tilted on its axis or something, and somehow I’d ended up in that greenhouse instead of Amber Sheldon or Louise or any of those girls who thought that wearing as few clothes as possible was a good look. Why had Stu followed me in there? He must have followed me, surely? Because he didn’t exactly strike me as the horticultural type. And what was I thinking, letting someone like him kiss me? It pretty much went against everything I stood for. Had I really been flattered by the attention? Perhaps I wasn’t so different from those girls after all.
The biggest question of all was one I would never know the answer to. What would have happened if I hadn’t stopped him?
chapter nine
There was a knock at the front door while we were still unpacking the IKEA purchases. I was quizzing Mum about why she’d felt the need to buy two hundred tea lights, and she was going on about ‘mood lighting’.
Kai stood on the doorstep looking sheepish and tired. His hair was all over the place – a look that I was hardly ever allowed to see these days. He was wearing an old T-shirt that was at least two sizes too small for him and I could see a narrow strip of skin between it and his jeans. ‘Before you say anything . . . I’m sorry I didn’t get your messages. And you shouldn’t have walked home on your own – that was a really stupid thing to do.’
I dragged him inside and upstairs before he could say anything else. ‘Mum doesn’t know I came home alone and I’d like it to stay that way, thank you ve
ry much. Where were you?’
He dived onto the bed and landed face first. ‘I’m sooooo tired.’ His voice was muffled by the duvet.
‘Kai! I looked everywhere for you!’
‘I looked everywhere for you! And I lost my phone and spent half the night looking for that.’ I couldn’t see his face, which made it very hard to tell if he was telling the truth.
‘But I asked around and no one had seen you.’
‘Probably because only about four people there knew my name! Anyway, missy, I’ve got a bone to pick with you . . .’ He turned over so he was lying on his back. His T-shirt had ridden up his belly. It was smooth and flat and made me think about Stu. ‘Get your arse over here.’ He patted the bed beside him and I lay on my side so that I was facing him. Kai’s face was great in profile.
‘Go ahead . . . pick your . . . bone.’
‘I usually prefer to do that in the privacy of my own bedroom, now that you mention it.’
‘You are disgusting.’
‘Awwww, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me . . . Anyway . . . a little birdie told me that you got down and dirty with Stuart Hicks in the potting shed last night.’ He turned onto his side so we were face to face, almost close enough to kiss. ‘And I told the little birdie that it couldn’t possibly be true because Stuart Hicks is revolting and probably has more STDs than a whole clinic. But the birdie was pretty adamant that you’d been spotted heading off into a quiet corner of the garden with Mr Hicks in hot pursuit. So . . . what do you say, Halliday? True or false?’
I tried to keep my face neutral even though my heart was racing and I could feel a blush creeping up my neck. ‘False! And quite frankly I’m offended you even felt the need to ask. Who was this little birdie anyway?’ I tried to go for a slightly less neutral facial expression, because neutral can be extra-suspicious sometimes. Still, my tone was maybe not as indignant as it would have been if the accusation had actually been false. If Kai had accused me of getting off with Stu Hicks a couple of days ago I would probably have decked him.