Read Girl Heart Boy: No Such Thing as Forever (Book 1) Online
Authors: Ali Cronin
I closed my eyes with lust and disappointment. Possibly the least satisfying combo in the history of
the world ever. ‘I’m so sorry, Joe, I can’t come … The doctor says I have to stay in bed until Friday.’ There was silence on the end of the line. I chewed my lip.
‘I’m on my way.’
I swallowed. ‘Sorry?’
‘I said I’ll come to you.’ I could hear the smile in his voice. ‘No probs, babes.’
Nought to sixty in ten seconds. I wanted to dance in a shaft of sunlight, my shiny hair bouncing fragrantly. ‘Oh yeah, wow, that’d be brilliant!’ I enthused, all my friends’ advice about playing it cool forgotten.
‘Great. I’ll text from the train … Just one thing – exactly how sick are you, Sarah Doesn’t-like-beer?’
I smiled. ‘Don’t worry. A bit of exercise is probably just what I need … I’ll still be in bed, right?’
‘And on the floor, across the desk, against the wall …’
After I’d ended the call and lain for a while in a swoon of unbridled lust, the reality of my little Romeo and Juliet scenario reared its annoying head. Namely, what was I going to tell my parents? How to explain that Joe was paying a visit? Yes, the Joe from Spain – did I not tell you we were together? Oops, must have slipped my mind. Oh and, by the way, we’ll be alone in my locked bedroom. No matter what I came up with, it never ended well. As I was pondering if there
was any way I could persuade Mum and Dad to take Daniel out for the night, Mum poked her head round the door.
‘We won’t be late, darling. There’s some spag bol for you and Dan on the side. You just need to give it a couple of minutes in the microwave.’
I sat up. ‘Wait, where are you going?’
Mum came into the room properly. She was wearing her beaded cardigan and lipgloss. ‘To the theatre with Steph and Mark. I told you last night …’ Her forehead creased. ‘We can cancel if you want.’
‘No! No no no,’ I said hurriedly. ‘I remember now. Have fun!’ I smiled brightly.
Mum hesitated. ‘You’re sure?’
I nodded manically like the Churchill dog. She paused for a moment and my heart paused with her, but then she gave a little wave and disappeared. Now that is what I call a result! I waited till I heard the front door click shut then ran downstairs to find Dan. It felt good to be using my legs again. He was on his Xbox in the living room, where he always was if wasn’t doing dodgy Google searches.
‘All right, Dan?’ I asked. He ignored me. I suppressed the urge to give him a slap and scowled at the greasy, dandruff-flecked back of his head. Someone needed to give the kid a lesson in personal hygiene. Puberty was definitely rearing its ugly head. Ugh, the thought made
me want to vom. Deciding to wait this one out, I went and sat next to him on the sofa. After a couple of minutes there was a massive explosion on the screen, limbs flying everywhere. Game Over. He turned to me.
‘What?’
I smiled. ‘Nothing. Just bored upstairs on my own.’
He grunted. ‘Mum and Dad say I’ve got to give you time to get over your trauma.’
‘Do they now?’ I pulled my legs up under me.
The seconds ticked away. ‘Was it scary … being in the sea?’ he asked, suddenly looking like a little kid again.
‘Not at the time. It was afterwards, though.’
He looked down at the control in his hands. ‘Well … I’m glad you’re OK.’
I smiled, surprised. Shocked, even. ‘Thanks, Dan. I’m glad I’m OK too …’ I shifted so I was facing him. ‘Actually, I’ve got a favour to ask.’
He looked bemused. ‘What?’
‘Promise you won’t tell Mum and Dad?’ That did it. I had his full attention now.
‘Promise.’
‘Dan, this is really important. I have to be able to trust you on this.’ I gave him some serious eye contact, and he frowned irritably.
‘I
said
I promise.’
‘Good. OK. Well, the thing is …’ How to put this?
‘The thing is I’ve got someone coming to see me here, tonight. And I really need you to stay downstairs while he’s here.’ I looked at the control in his hand. ‘I’ll get you a new Xbox game if you do.’
‘“He”? Is it your boyfriend? You want me to stay down here so you can shag him in your bedroom, don’t you?’
I paused. ‘Yes.’
He switched his game on again. ‘Yeah, no worries.’
Huh. That had been easier than I expected.
‘But if you want me to keep quiet, I want two new games.’ His eyes were fixed on the screen.
‘We agreed on one new game.’ You little shit.
He shrugged. ‘Take it or leave it.’
I sighed. ‘Fine. But if you even show your face when Joe’s here I’ll tell Mum and Dad you’ve been smoking.’
‘All right, all right, I said I’d stay out of your way, didn’t I?’ He made a retching face. ‘Anyway I don’t want to see him. He must be ugly or mental – or both – to want to shag you.’
‘Whatever. Dickhead.’
‘Bitch.’
‘Anyway. He’ll be here soon so …’
‘Stay in here. I know.’ He made a face but I ignored it. Mission accomplished! Let Operation Romeo and Juliet commence.
But I was jogging upstairs to run a bath, thinking how Joe must be just about on the train by now, when he called.
‘Hey, sexy,’ I purred. (Well, he’d started it. All that stuff about nakedness and desks.)
‘Babes, I’m really sorry, I can’t come after all.’ He sounded gutted. But not as gutted as me.
‘Why not?’ I didn’t even bother keeping the disappointment out of my voice.
‘Work’s just phoned – someone’s off sick and they need me to cover … I can’t afford to turn it down.’
It seemed almost inevitable. Of course we weren’t going to see each other. It never worked out for us. And now I was left facing an evening in with my irritating little brother, Mr Nosepicker himself. Could things get any worse?
I trudged back downstairs to tell Dan the good news.
‘We’ll just make it one Xbox game, then,’ he said, still not taking his eyes off the screen.
‘What? No way! I’m not buying you any bloody games.’ I almost laughed. The cheek!
He shrugged. ‘I’ll tell Mum and Dad you had a boy coming here tonight, then.’
I narrowed my eyes. ‘They wouldn’t believe you.’
‘Why would I lie?’
When did my baby brother turn into such a cunning little bastard? I slumped down on the sofa beside him. This was turning out to be the worst day ever. ‘Tell them what you like, I’m past caring,’ I said, sighing.
‘So who is this Joe, anyway?’ asked Dan, pausing the action.
I exhaled moodily. ‘I met him in Spain.’
Dan grimaced. ‘What, that skinny posh guy?’ I nodded. ‘You’re shagging him?’ He laughed. ‘It must be like Baloo shagging Mowgli.’
I curled my lip in disgust. ‘Firstly, that’s sick. Secondly, stop saying “shag”. And thirdly, I’m not fat …’
‘Not much.’
I ignored him. One of his squibby little friends had obviously told him that the way to wind a big sister up was to tell her she’s fat. Well, it wouldn’t work on me. God, I had insecurities enough. He’d just have to do his research. I wiped my hand across my eyes. I couldn’t believe I wasn’t going to see Joe AGAIN.
‘Aw, missing Joey-woey?’ crooned Dan.
I gave him a slap. ‘Shut up, dick.’
‘OW! I’m telling Mum.’ He rubbed his head.
‘Say what you like,’ I said again. Misery misery. I sighed deeply. ‘You’ll understand one day, in the unlikely event of you turning into an attractive human being.’
‘I’ve kissed three girls, actually,’ he sniffed. ‘With tongues. And one of them let me touch her tit.’
How disgusting. ‘Well, I hope she washed it afterwards,’ I said wearily. This was not making me feel better, but anything was preferable to moping in my room. I was sick of the sight of it. I sat in miserable silence while the mindless music, gun noises and explosions of Dan’s game filled the room. Then my phone rang again. Joe.
I got up and left the room, Dan so engrossed in gunning down Germans that I don’t think he even noticed. I answered the phone. ‘Hey.’
‘Babe, I’ve just had a thought. Why don’t you come up here this weekend instead? I’m working Saturday night, but you can amuse yourself for a few hours, right?’
‘Right, yeah, of course,’ I said quickly, the emotional rollercoaster that was my life on a sudden upwards slant. ‘That works out better for me, actually. I’ll get the train Saturday morning, like last time.’
‘That’s great, babe. Brilliant. See you then, yeah?’
‘Yeah. I’ll text from the train.’ But he’d hung up.
I mused indulgently for a moment on the rubbishness of boys on the phone, but my thoughts quickly turned to the weekend. Having two days to prepare meant I could shave my legs and take time deciding what to wear – maybe even order some new underwear online. No, it was definitely a good thing that Joe couldn’t come today. Hadn’t Mum herself suggested that I go up to London this weekend? I beamed at the cheesy photo of me in dungarees, aged five, which had been on the wall at the bottom of the stairs for as long as I could remember. It was about time my luck changed.
Seeing Joe again was just as amazing as I’d imagined it. It was like we’d never been apart. He didn’t meet me at the station this time. I’d told him not to. I didn’t
want him thinking I was some provincial girl who was scared of London. (Not that he came from the ghetto. He was from somewhere in Surrey I’d never heard of, but come on: Surrey? Not exactly urban jungle.) I got the Tube up to his house no probs, and within approximately ninety-four seconds of arriving at his place we were rolling naked on the floor of his room. It was brilliant: sweaty, ravenous, breathy-moany sex. I felt utterly, completely free. It was like I was released from myself. I wasn’t Sarah: virginal, feminist, gullible but nice. I was feelings and sounds and skin-on-skin. I didn’t care that my face was red and scrunched, because Joe’s was too. Everything was the two of us. My friends, my parents, my brother … they were a part of my life I could think about indulgently – it was nice to have them. But they were a lucky extra. It was all about us: me and Joe.
All this went through my head as we lay afterwards on Joe’s floor, his duvet pulled on top of us. He tickled my forehead with the tip of his finger. ‘What are you thinking?’
Not my favourite question. I never want to give an honest answer, because I’m usually thinking something stupid like,
Would my legs look like skittles in harem pants?
Or,
What if my dreams are real and real life is actually the dream?
I sighed contentedly and snuggled into him.
‘Nothing, really … Just how nice this is.’ Which was at least a condensed version of the truth.
He kissed my head. ‘You’re sweet.’ I closed my eyes. It was going to be OK between us. How could it not?
When I woke up it was dark outside and I was stiff from lying on the floor. I dragged myself and the duvet back on to the bed. It felt like the warmest, cosiest place in the world. The toilet flushed and Joe came back in, dressed and with hair wet from the shower. He sat on the edge of the bed and took my hand. Seeing the expression on his face sent my insides plummeting.
‘I’m so sorry, babes, but work’s asked me to do all day tomorrow as well as tonight.’ He squeezed my fingers. ‘You know I can’t turn it down.’
I smiled bravely. I would not be clingy. ‘That’s OK. I’ll just wait for you to come back tonight then leave when you go to work in the morning.’
He ran his hand down my throat and across the top of my chest. ‘Honestly, it’d be better if you went today. I won’t be back till gone midnight and I’ll just want to sleep.’ He moved his hand under the duvet to squeeze my breast and lowered his voice. ‘You’re a bad influence.’
I knew when I was being patronized, but I wasn’t
angry. Just sad. The memory of Mimi’s expression at the party hovered like a sign warning me to play it cool. Maybe this was how some relationships worked. Cass and Adam’s wasn’t like this, but who’d want to be like them?
I slid my hand under the waist of Joe’s jeans and kissed his shoulder. ‘Maybe we should have one more go before you leave?’
He plucked my arm away by the wrist and stood up, almost irritably. ‘C’mon, babe, I’ve got to go.’ He kissed the side of my head. ‘I’ll call you soon, yeah? Take your time leaving. There’s bread for toast, I think.’
‘Right. Bye then,’ I said, bleakly, to his retreating back. I hadn’t even had a chance to confront him about telling Mimi our secrets, which I really had meant to do. I stared into space until I heard the front door click shut and then, naked on my own in an empty house in this city of a gazillion people, I cried. I got out of bed, pulled on my clothes without showering and left the house. I just wanted to be away from there, and away from London. I was still snivelling as I walked from Joe’s house to the station. Keeping an eye out for potential phone-snatchers, I scrolled through my Favourites. Ashley, Cass, Donna … I didn’t want to speak to any of them. Jack? He’d just be freaked out. Rich was a no-no – he already
had enough on his mind. My thumb hovered over Ollie’s name. He was funny and he didn’t judge. I connected the call and he answered almost straight away.
‘Hairy McSarey, shouldn’t you be doing unspeakable things with Joe?’
I tried to laugh, but it came out kind of phlegmy.
‘Wait … you OK, flower?’
Oh lovely, lovely Ollie. Why couldn’t we fancy each other instead? I cleared my throat and forced myself to sound bright, although I think it veered more towards highly strung and mental. ‘Yeah, fine. Just walking to the station from Joe’s actually.’ There was a pause. Why had I phoned? I’d never called him for a chat before. That’s not what you did with boys. I swallowed. ‘Anyway. Uh … just wondered what you were doing tomorrow?’ I heard crackling noises down the phone followed by wet crunching. Ollie eating crisps in surround sound. Nice.
‘Not much,’ he said around a mouthful of (probably) Ready Salted. ‘Sleeping late. Watching telly … Why?’
Good question. ‘Well … uh … I was thinking of getting us all together for a kind of post-Devon thing. Before we go back to school. Type thing.’ Nice one, Sarah. Eloquent.
‘Yeah, count me in. Are the others coming?’
‘Dunno. You’re the first one I phoned, actually.’ I let my head drop back and shook it despairingly at the heavy late-autumn clouds.