Skin Deep (18 page)

Understanding began to dawn. ‘Are you suggesting that . . .’

‘Yeah, why not?’ His grin spread. ‘Just so there’s no embarrassment tomorrow. And I don’t mind. I’ve kissed loads of girls.’

I didn’t know whether I wanted to slap him or put my head under the cushion and hide. I compromised by glaring. ‘Oh, that’s so good of you! Offering yourself up as a sacrifice!’

That wiped the horrible grin off his face. He replaced it with an apologetic, wheedling look. ‘Hell no, I didn’t mean it like that. It came out wrong. All I meant was we’re friends and I’ll help you out so you don’t go blaming yourself if he turns out to be useless.’

I stared back at him, trying to read his face. He didn’t look as if he was winding me up. My pride was stung, but what girl isn’t terrified of messing up her first proper kiss by not knowing what to do? Should I do it? Would he laugh at me if I got it wrong?

‘Everyone needs a bit of practice at first,’ he added encouragingly.

OK, so he wouldn’t laugh. He never did if I was really worried or upset. But kissing him? I’d
die
. I’d give myself away. Lindz used to say boys gloated if they knew you liked them, though she’d never tried to hide her interest from Stephen, not like she did with the others.

Would Ryan gloat if he realised? Or maybe he’d run out of here so fast he’d leave skid marks in our gravel.

But then the temptation to try . . . to find out what it was like with him . . . I swallowed . . . my bones felt like they were made of plasticine and I couldn’t get my eyes away from his mouth, which was still talking.

‘See, if you get like this it proves you need to practise. You look like you’re going to freak out now and it’s only me.’

If it hadn’t been me in this situation then I’d have laughed myself stupid.
Only him? Freak out? Yes, you idiot!

He moved his legs and patted the seat beside him. ‘Come on.’

Oh, what the . . . I didn’t know how to get out of it now. If I said no, that’d look weird and he’d probably guess.

I shuffled up beside him. What if it was horrible and slobbery like last time? What should I do with my hands?

He didn’t give me time to change my mind. He flashed me a quick grin. ‘You’re not facing the death squad. I’m quite good at it.’ Then his face was so close to mine that I squeaked and stopped breathing.

I waited for him to lunge forward and squash my mouth. He didn’t. He sort of brushed the side of my nose lightly with his and gave a huff of breath that sounded like a laugh. His hand touched my unscarred cheek and I wasn’t sure what to make of that. His other hand ran lightly over my hair as he put his lips on mine in a feather kiss. ‘You’re supposed to breathe, you know.’ He laughed and nudged his elbow in my ribs. I exhaled sharply and he sniggered, a particularly Ryan sound. Strangely that relaxed me, though it was
the
most infuriatingly smug noise.

‘Better,’ he said quietly. ‘Now chill. It’s really not that difficult. Complete morons manage it all the time.’

His fingers moved gently over my cheek and it should’ve felt good, but all I could think about was that of course he hadn’t touched the other side of my face.

Then he kissed me properly, tilting my head so my mouth fitted with his. He didn’t force his tongue in; he kissed me slowly until I decided I wanted to put my arms round his neck. I didn’t have the courage though and I pulled back. ‘Am I doing this right?’

‘Mmm,’ he said, eyes closed. He tugged me closer again. ‘Shut up. I’m not finished yet.’

I noticed how he didn’t ask if he was doing it right for me – typical.

But he was. It felt more than right, but I was still too busy trying to work out how to do it back and not appear too enthusiastic at the same time. As this was supposed to be a lesson and nothing more.

Oh!

My hands knotted involuntarily in his hair as he slid his tongue into my mouth. And it wasn’t a bit like last time. Not slobbery or like being attacked by a dish mop. I kissed him back, or at least I thought that’s what I was doing.

He made a small noise and pulled his mouth away briefly. ‘That’s right,’ he murmured, and then put his lips back to mine again.

Clearly he’d been right – that guy Ed was a drunken goon who didn’t have a clue because this was nothing like how it had been with him. I stopped worrying about what to do and pretended that it was all real and not a lesson at all.

His hand slid back to my face, tilting it a little more.

I let out a gasp as his lips moved off mine to kiss up my right cheek. I flinched away and made a noise that should’ve been ‘no’, but wasn’t anything that made sense.

He ignored me and his lips followed my face until he found it again. He held my head between his hands so I couldn’t pull away while he kissed up my cheek, then down over my jaw and neck.

I couldn’t feel much of it in my skin. The flames had done too much damage to the nerves and the whole area was numb like when a dentist’s injection hasn’t worn off properly. But I felt it everywhere else: in my stomach, in my head, in the cold place inside where the anger thing lived.
Why? Why is he doing this?

‘Ryan?’ I mumbled, not knowing what to say, but having to say something before I burst or cried.

‘Mmm, sshhh,’ was all I got in return. He brought his lips back to kiss me on the mouth again. He wasn’t as slow or as gentle this time, but that felt right too. And even better when he tightened his arms round me.

When he kissed me harder again, I wanted him to.

And then suddenly he pulled away and let me go. He flopped back in the sofa, grabbed the bowl of tortilla chips and plopped it in his lap. ‘There, you’ll be fine now,’ he said in a peculiar voice and he hit the play button on the remote.

The shock of him stopping, the sudden sound from the TV – it hit me like a bucket of ice water thrown over my head. I retreated back to my side of the sofa in panic. The set look on his face did nothing to help. What went wrong? Had he got grossed out?

He took a long breath in and relaxed a bit, though his mouth still looked tight. ‘You don’t have to scoot off over there like I’m a leper,’ he said, and his voice was tight too. What was up with him?

‘Come back here and watch the rest of the film.’ He draped his arm over the back of the sofa and beckoned me. I shuffled over again. It was easier to do what he said than try to work out what was going on in his head and risk messing up. Plus I felt sort of small and cold since he’d let me go.

He gave me a one-armed bear hug and nodded at the TV. ‘The special effects are good.’

‘Er, yeah . . .’ He made no sense at all.

‘Think that scenery is CGI?’

‘Um . . .’

‘Want a crisp?’

‘No, I’m full.’ No way was I picking tortilla chips out of a bowl right over his groin.

‘They’re really good. Thanks for getting these. Do you want me to toast you a marshmallow?’

‘No, I’m full.’

‘Sorry, yeah.’ He did that wheedling smile again. ‘The pizza was great too. And the chips.’

If he was trying to make up for being weird, this was overkill. I watched the TV screen in silence. He sighed and munched another crisp.

‘Jenna?’

‘Yeah?’

‘If this guy does try it on, you don’t do it unless you want to. OK?’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘And you don’t let him go further than . . . than we did. Not the first time. OK?’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Unless you want to?’

I turned to look at him. He glared at me hard, as if it would be very bad if I did want to go further. Which was rich coming from him. ‘I doubt it!’

‘Hmm,’ he said cryptically and watched the TV again. ‘What time will you be back?’

‘I don’t know yet.’

‘Text me.’

‘OK, but will you shut up about it now? Please!’

He laughed and I felt him relax, though I hadn’t realised he’d been tensed up before. ‘Sorry! Just guys can be pushy and –’

‘OK, now you are freaking me out.’ I screwed my face up. ‘You sound like my dad.’

He butted me with his shoulder and laughed again. ‘Watch the film.’

Occasionally he stroked his thumb absently down my hair when the scary scenes were on. I wasn’t sure he knew he was doing it as he was so absorbed with things killing each other on screen.

Then the truth hit me. He thought I was a little kid. Like when he made me eat those chips in the burger place. And that was why he offered to kiss me. That was why he kissed my face, just to make me feel better.

I sneaked a look at his profile to memorise its lines. I couldn’t remember if Ed’s lips had been soft – too busy trying to get away – but I’d always thought a boy’s lips would be hard and raspy for some reason. Ryan’s weren’t. I got it now, why people liked kissing.

‘I forgot to say before, is your neighbour a nutter?’

‘Um, he’s been a bit odd recently. Since Lindsay died.’

‘Oh, of course, he’s her dad!’

‘Why?’

‘When I came up the garden earlier, he was talking to a rose bush.’

‘He keeps staring at that bush. I’ve seen him.’

‘Maybe he planted it for her. Maybe he thinks he’s talking to her.’ Ryan shrugged. ‘Takes time to get over stuff . . . Aww, that’s gross! Hang on, I’ll rewind so you can watch it.’

So he could watch it again, more like. I rolled my eyes as he sat wide-eyed while an alien’s head was ripped off and blue gook spouted everywhere.

Later that evening, I lay sprawled on my bed, thinking about just what had got into my head that afternoon.
If you could buy a big yellow Captain Stupid sticker then I should get one and wear it right in the middle of my forehead. Great idea – ‘let’s just kiss as practice’, No big deal. Just make sure that she knew what she was doing when the knob who’d asked her out tried it on.

I ran through it in my head, trying to work out what had got into me. First off, when she told me – shock. She was
my
friend, not his. Next, was it a jerk like that git from the Rugby Club? Didn’t sound that way though. Not from what she said about him. And then, yeah, my totally reasonable and genius idea. That was completely me being a good mate. That flash of ‘he’s not getting to do what I haven’t’ was only down to the surprise. I was just helping out.

But it all went a bit wrong.

It was fine at first. I concentrated on not rushing her, letting her get used to it, not freaking her out. It took me aback a bit that I liked it so much, but that was all right. For a while. Until she started to get the idea. Until I knew she was enjoying it. And that had a weird effect on me because . . . but I couldn’t think about her like that. Off limits.

But then I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t normally have to hold back, but with Jenna I had to. And the longer I kissed her, the more difficult it got.

I did go further than I intended. Not too far, but I hadn’t meant to get that into it. Plus when I kissed her face, she was shaking and she said my name like she was going to cry, and I sort of lost my head for a few minutes.

That wasn’t how it had been with all the other girls I’d kissed. I couldn’t grasp what the difference was exactly, but there definitely was one.

I banged my head on the pillow over and over. She must either think I was a total creep or a headcase. You don’t go around volunteering to kiss your friends to show them how. And if you do, you shouldn’t get off on it. If she kissed that guy tomorrow, I knew I’d want to rip his fingernails out and stick them in his eyeballs. But why? Because she was my friend and I didn’t want some other guy pawing her? Right, and that was a really normal reaction.

I rolled on to my back and lay still for a while. Mum was in some kind of cleaning frenzy next door and I heard things clatter and crash through the wall. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with her – I was having enough problems with myself.

Jenna texted from the bowling place to say she’d be home by seven so I texted back for her to meet me in the stable then.

I checked my watch. Five to seven. I’d been waiting there ages. She’d be officially late soon. My knee jogged up and down against the edge of the straw bale I was sitting on.

Minutes ticked by.

I checked my watch again.

Exactly seven and no sign of her.

My knee jogged faster.

At one minute past seven, a torch beam gleamed up at the far end of the field.

‘You’re late,’ I muttered when she came into the loose box. I made room for her on my bale.

‘We went for nachos afterwards.’

‘Did you have a good time?’

She smiled. ‘Yes.’

I waited.

And waited.

‘Well?’

‘God, you’re in a bad mood! Well, nothing. We went bowling. We got nachos. End of.’

‘Did he try –’

‘Ryan, you might leap on girls the second you’ve met them, but not every boy does. No, he didn’t.’