Num8ers (15 page)

“It’s refreshing!”

“It feels like needles!”

“Rub it in. Rub the water in, it’s fine.”

He rubbed one arm, stiffly, then moved up to his shoulder. “Oh, yeah, you’re right.” He started to get into it, running his hands over his hair, turning his face up like me, closing his eyes. He let out a whoop of joy, and I watched him as he smoothed the water from his face and shoulders and chest, and it struck me suddenly. He was beautiful.

I felt my whole body flush with the shock of it. It was like I was seeing him for the first time, seeing beyond what everyone else saw — the twitching and swearing, the aggression and awkwardness.

I realized he was looking at me.

“What?” he said.

“Nothing.”

“Getting cold?”

“Nah, I’m alright.”

“You have to keep moving or you’ll freeze!” He suddenly took off, leaping around like a lunatic, whooping. I joined in, dancing and skipping, laughing my head off. He grabbed my hand and spun me around, then pulled me in toward him and put his arm ’round my waist, and we waltzed around like a couple of maniacs. And all the time, the rain was thundering down around us. It was the maddest, maddest thing.

“Someone up there likes you!” he shouted into my ear.

“What do you mean?”

“They sent you a shower just when you wanted it, didn’t they?”

“It’s just rain. There’s no one up there.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, no one’s been looking out for me for the past fifteen years, why would they start now?”

We’d stopped dancing, but he still had his arm around me.

“I’ll always look out for you,” he said. His words went straight into the middle of me. My stomach kind of flipped over. At the same time, my eyes starting stinging. There was no “always” for this boy. I turned my head away so he wouldn’t see my tears.

“I mean it, Jem.”

“I know,” I said unsteadily.

He brought his hand up to hold the end of my chin and gently turned my head back toward him. Our heights were so mismatched, my eyes were at the level of his chest. He tilted my head and bent down toward me.

I just had time to think,
This isn’t happening,
before I felt his lips press gently on mine. I closed my eyes. His mouth moved slightly, and his nose nuzzled mine. I felt him start to move away again and opened my eyes. His face was so close, it was sort of distorted, but the number was there, the same as ever. As he moved away, he became more familiar, his features morphing back into the Spider I knew. He frowned, let go of me, and held up both his hands.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” I said quickly. “Don’t be.” I reached up and cupped the back of his neck and drew him down to me, and we kissed again. And we lost ourselves in each other, gently exploring the faces and features we’d thought we knew so well. Standing in the rain, in the dark, in a totally different dimension.

I lay back on the blanket, instinctively crossing my arms over my tits. He was trying to touch me there, to kiss me. I knew my arms were fending him off, I didn’t want to, it was just so difficult. If we were going to do this, I told myself, I’d have to trust him, to let him in. I made myself lift up my arms, right over my head, so my hands were resting on the hay behind me. It was a willful act — I was laying myself open to him. He responded eagerly, kissing, nibbling, and sucking. It was wonderful. And shocking. It was too new and too weird, and I found myself stepping away in my mind. I became an observer, and the absurdity of us naked in a smelly barn, the bizarre sensations all over my skin, inside me, the tension of it all, forced stuttering laughter out of my mouth.

Spider stopped what he was doing and looked up at me. His face was deadly serious — I’d never seen him so serious.

“You’re laughing.”

“No.” But I couldn’t hold down my nervous giggles.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, ’course not. It’s just…I’m just…not used to it. I’m sorry.” The laughter drained away as I saw how hurt he was.

“It’s fine,” I said. “I’ve never done this before. I’m nervous. It’s fine. Come here.” I wasn’t far from crying now, all my emotions way too near the surface. I drew him down to me, kissing him tenderly, urging him with my mouth to kiss me back. It was better when we were kissing. We relaxed in the softness of each other’s mouths, the wetness. It brought me back into my body. I was there with him again.

He caressed me and stroked me, nervous energy trembling out of the ends of his fingers. He fumbled in the dark, and we did it. We really did it — there, on an itchy blanket, with the dust from the hay and the smell of cow shit in our nostrils. The hay bales beneath us may have rocked a bit, but the earth didn’t move. It was awkward, mechanical — all over in a minute or so — not worth worrying about. But afterward, we were different. Not because of the sex, because of the closeness, the intimacy. We covered ourselves up as much as we could with the two blankets and the old green coat, and huddled together. The rain had washed away his sour smell, there was only a slight comforting muskiness as I nestled into him, with my head on his chest.

“Have you done that before?” I asked.

“Yeah, ’course. Loads of times.” His lie hung in the air. “Well, once, anyway.” I waited. “OK, I’ve done it once now. With you.”

I smiled, and held him closer.

Even then, after all that, he was still fizzing with energy, his hands so restless. He was running his fingers through my
short, short hair, while the other hand moved over my arm, my stomach, my side. He shifted over so we were face-to-face, and softly traced the line of my jaw with his finger.

“Funny, you seem more like a girl with your hair short. Can see your face.” He kissed my forehead, my nose, my chin, down in a line. “Your pretty face.”

No one had ever called me pretty before. I’m fairly sure no one had ever thought it, either.

“I thought I told you never to say anything nice to me.”

He snorted. “Oh, yeah, I promised, didn’t I? That doesn’t count, though.”

“Why not? A promise is a promise, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but that was before I fell in love with you.”

It was too much, too new. I reacted how I always had. I said the thing I always said.

“Fuck off!”

“OK, forget it.” His hurt was so intense it was physical, a black moon hanging over us where we lay.

Oh, my God, what had I done?

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to behave.”

“It’s alright, Jem.” But he’d let go of me, moved away.

“No, it isn’t. I’m an idiot.” If I’d said it back to him, there and then, if I’d said I loved him. If…if…if.

Without his warmth, the blanket was hopelessly inadequate, and the cold that had been lurking in my hands and feet spread all over me, making me shiver violently. I sat up and began to cast about for my clothes, cursing yet again our lack
of a flashlight. Whatever I found, I put on, no bra or panties, only one sock, and that felt like Spider’s, a sweater, my jeans; the rest would have to wait until there was some light. A few feet away, Spider was doing the same. It felt like something was over between us. I’d killed it with my big mouth.

I curled up, but even with some clothes on, I was chilled right through. When you think about it, if you’re going to dance around in the rain with your clothes off in December, and then roll about in a barn, butt-naked, you’re going to get cold, aren’t you? I guess being hungry didn’t help, either. I could hear Spider shifting about as he bedded down. He sighed. Could have been just breathing out, but to me there was frustration, anger, sadness in that sigh. I wanted to reach out to him, but was frightened he’d just shrug me off.

We lay there in silence. Behind us, even the cows were quieter. They’d settled down in the hay and their own filth and were just gently chewing and breathing. I was too cold to sleep, and there was no way I could even try with this wall of silence between us. I needed him.

“Are you awake?” I whispered, my voice nearly disappearing in the darkness of the huge barn.

“Yeah.”

“I’m freezing.”

“I know. Me, too.” A pause. A long, long pause. “Come here, then.”

I shuffled over to him as he turned over. He wrapped one of his long arms around my shoulders and I snuggled into him.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “For earlier.”

“It’s fine, Jem, shut up. It’s in the past.”

“Yeah, but…I didn’t mean to say it. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know. It’s alright. We’re alright. Lovers’ tiff, eh?” He kissed the end of my nose, moved down to my mouth, and suddenly it was alright again.

And as we breathed in each other’s breath and I buried my hands in his spongy hair, I thought,
Lovers, yes, we’re lovers now.
We came up for air and lay cuddling. My hands were still cold, and he took them and slid them under his clothes onto the bare skin of his chest and stomach to warm them up.

“Wouldn’t it be good if you could start again?” I said. “I feel like my life’s screwed up before I’ve even got started.”

“Tell me about it.” He turned over to face me again, and my hands moved around him, my arms enclosing him. “But we
are
starting again, Jem. If I hadn’t met you, it probably would have been dope and pills and smoking crack and shooting up junk. Prison. Hospitalization. That’s how it would have been for me, but you saved me from that. It’s going to be different for us now.”

I dug my fingernails into his back, felt the tears burning my eyes.

“Ow! What’s that for? Leaving your mark on me?”

“No, just holding you tight.” And he held me, too, and we had sex again, only it was making love this time, slow and tender. And I didn’t just lie there, I was part of it: moving and
kissing, stroking and sighing. It was like I was someone else, but I wasn’t. This was me, the real me, and Spider was the only person ever to have found me, to see me for who I was. And I saw him, too. He was beautiful.

Afterward, I lay in the crook of his arm, my hand resting on his chest, and he was still, not a twitch or a tremor. We were peaceful and calm together, and I fell asleep with his warm breath on my face and his heart beating next to mine.

I was waking up slowly, still in a dream, not knowing what was real and what wasn’t. I could hear the warm, deep noises of cows talking to each other. My nostrils were full of earthy, shitty air — animal and vegetable all mixed up. I was curled up on my side as usual, but my back was warm, there was something heavy lying across me, and I felt enclosed. I opened my eyes to face a wall of hay. I looked down and there was Spider’s arm draped over my waist. He was on his side, too, curved into my body.

It was just getting light. The cows were struggling to their feet, kicking the hay around — I guess that’s what woke me up. I put my hand onto Spider’s arm and hugged him in closer. That little movement woke him up, and he nuzzled the top of my head, planted a kiss.

“We’d better get up, it’s morning,” I whispered.

Spider groaned. “OK,” he said. “Just five more minutes.”

And so we lay together a little longer. I was awake now, my mind going over the night before. Was it real? Was I different? Spider fell asleep again, I could tell by the weight of his arm, his heavy, even breath on my scalp.

I started getting worried about someone finding us there. Surely someone would come up to check on the cows. They didn’t just leave them for days, did they? I swiveled around under his arm, rubbed my hands up and down his chest to wake him up.

“Come on, we’ve got to go.”

He opened one lazy eye. “Whassahurry?”

“We need to get out of here, it’s getting light.” I wriggled out of his arms and sat up. There were bits of clothing all over the place, socks trodden into the filthy ground. Oh, yeah, it was real.

I gathered up my clothes and did my best to brush the crap off them, then undressed in order to get dressed properly again. I felt more self-conscious in the cold light of day, and quickly put on my T-shirt, then squirmed around getting my bra on underneath it.

“What you doing that for?” a sleepy voice asked. “I’ve seen it all now. You don’t need to hide.”

“I know,” I said, “I’m just cold. Anyway, get up. Here…” I balled up the sock of his that I’d been wearing and chucked it at him.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Once dressed, there was nothing to do but leave. Nothing for breakfast, not even a drink. The cows had lined up by their fence and were watching us curiously, their breath steaming in the cold morning air. We put the blankets in a couple of
bags and left. There was no question about what we had to do today — we needed to find a bit of civilization — so we followed the path back to the main road. Spider carried our plastic bags. As we set off, he put them both in one hand and gently scooped up one of mine in his free one. We walked along, side by side, not speaking. When the path narrowed, he went a bit in front, but didn’t let go of me, and we carried on, me with my arm reaching forward, him reaching back. Sounds soppy, doesn’t it, like we’d mushed into sickly boyfriend-girlfriend stuff? But it wasn’t like that. We were just together now. Properly together.

We walked along the road, sticking a thumb out every time we heard a car behind us. We’d got to the point now where we had to risk being recognized. Nobody stopped. They were all in a hurry, speeding along this little country lane like it was a racetrack, swerving out when they spotted us, taken by surprise. A couple of them sounded their horns, like we shouldn’t be in the road at all. Where did they expect us to walk? In the ditch? Tossers.

It had stopped raining, but everywhere was soaked, and there were big puddles lying on the tarmac at the side of the road. My jeans got heavier as the water soaked up from the bottoms. It wasn’t easy walking on a completely empty stomach. My legs were tired, anyway, really tired, and my body was rebelling against what I was asking it to do. I kept belching, but I couldn’t even taste yesterday’s food — just sour, acid emptiness.

It had got to twenty past eight when we stopped. We couldn’t sit down anywhere, it was all too wet, but we stood a few feet away from the road, up a track to a farm. Spider put his bags down and lit one of our last cigarettes. We shared it in silence, while water dripped onto us from the trees above.