The Girl With No Past (21 page)

‘No,’ I say, not smiling so she’ll realise what Adam and I have done is serious. ‘Not really. I just…need to see him.’

Imogen tuts and flicks her eyes upwards. ‘You’re not worried he’s gone off you now he’s had his way with you, are you? That’s silly. You guys have been together ages so why—’

‘No, course not. I just need to tell him something.’ I stare at my feet. I hadn’t noticed before now that my shoes are starting to peel at the tips. I’ll have to remember to tell Mum I need a new pair.

She sucks in her breath. ‘You’re not…pregnant are you?’ Her face breaks into a smile.

‘Don’t be stupid, Imogen.’ I have no time for this today. Why can’t she take this seriously? ‘I just need to speak to him. It’s not about anything.’

‘Okay. Well, catch you later.’ We hug goodbye, even though we will see each other tomorrow morning, and I watch her trot off, probably to meet Corey. Neither of their parents have a problem with their relationship so they are allowed this luxury.

There is no sign of Adam when I turn the corner to the art block, and the only people I can see are Charlie Woods and Richard Seymour. They’re messing around play fighting and don’t look in any rush to get home. They’re always hanging around the school, long after everyone else has gone, and I have no idea what they’re up to. Please don’t let them speak to me.

I slow my pace, wishing – not for the first time since I started at this school – that I could disappear into the ground. What if they know? What if somehow they have found out what I did with Adam last night? I cringe inside. When Tommy Scott slept with Anna Proctor it was all over the school within hours. Even now I can’t look at her without picturing it.

But the moment they see me they head off, no doubt assuming I will get them into trouble for whatever it is they’re doing. As soon as they disappear I sit on the step and pull out my book. Our coursework is due in a couple of weeks and I want to read
The Crucible
one more time, just to make sure I haven’t missed anything.

Ten minutes pass and there is still no sign of Adam. I’m beginning to get a gut ache. I know he isn’t coming, I just know it. I will give him another half hour, though, just in case he’s been delayed. The football crowd is always trying to get him to take it more seriously and join them for after-school matches. When will they realise he’s just not interested? He plays for fun some lunchtimes but that’s as far as he wants to take it. ‘I’m not even that good,’ he told me once. ‘They just seem to want me anyway.’ I didn’t tell him that I know why this is.
Everyone
wants to be around him, they feel privileged if he chooses their company.

But none of them really get Adam.

And now, sitting here, waiting, I’m beginning to feel as if I don’t either.

It takes me another half hour to admit defeat. To acknowledge that he’s not showing up. He’s made a choice and I’m not what he wants. Slowly I rise, feeling as if my body will crumble if I move too quickly. Feeling as if I will throw up. The walk to the school gates is like walking the plank; how will things be without Adam? He was my friend as well as anything else. Everything else. Now I’ve lost it all.

At the dinner table, Mum and Dad stare at me while I push food around my plate. Food always looks lovely when it’s first served, but it quickly becomes a sickening mess. Mum has cooked my favourite tonight: roast chicken and mashed potato, but I can’t stomach any of it.

‘Aren’t you hungry?’ she asks, delicately placing her fork in her mouth, as if I will be tempted by seeing her enjoy hers.

I shake my head. ‘Sorry, I think I ate too much for lunch. I’m still full.’

She won’t believe this. I may as well tell them Adam has dumped me because it will make their day. Of course I wouldn’t add the reason why he has done this; they can’t know that. But in the end I can’t bring myself to say anything. Thinking it is hard enough.

For the sake of peace, I make an effort to shovel in as much food as I can, but it’s still not enough for Mum. Afterwards, when she’s clearing up, I hear her moaning as she scrapes my leftovers into the bin.

‘People are starving in third-world countries,’ she says to Dad. ‘What a waste.’

I can’t see either of them because I’m on the stairs, but no doubt he is nodding his agreement.

I tell them I’ve got studying to do and retreat to my bedroom, shutting the door on the day that’s turned out to be the worst of my life.

Only now do I cry, letting my tears flood out and hating myself for not wanting to control them. I have become one of those girls I despise, the ones who only care about boys and when their boyfriend leaves them they fall apart.

This isn’t just someone, though, this is Adam.

I can’t sleep tonight. I turn on my bedside lamp and lie on my back, staring at the textured ceiling. Whoever thought of creating swirls in paint? It’s a ridiculous idea, and staring at the misshapen circles is making my head hurt. It’s past midnight, my eyes are sore from the river of tears that’s escaped them for the last few hours, and there is barely a dry patch on my pillow. I lean over the bed and scramble around in my school bag for
The Crucible
,
hoping that getting lost in John Proctor’s problems will help me escape my own.

Just as I begin reading, something smacks against my window with a sharp crack. I freeze, waiting to see if it will happen again. It does. A harder thwack this time, followed by another.

The curtains are closed so I have no idea what it is, but I slide off my duvet and tiptoe to the window, pulling the edge of the curtain aside slightly to make a slim gap.

Adam is there.

He’s standing on the pavement with his hand outstretched, ready to hurl another stone or whatever it is he’s lobbing at the window. He stops when he sees me, smiles and lowers his arm before striding into the garden.

With my heart feeling like it’s in my mouth, I check to make sure I can’t hear my parents waking up, and then I open the window, careful not to make any noise.

‘What are you doing?’ I have to keep my voice low, but the night is so silent he has no trouble hearing me.

‘Leah, let me in, we need to talk.’

I stick my head out of the window and lean down as far as I can, feeling like Juliet on the balcony. ‘I can’t, Mum and Dad will wake up. What are you doing here?’

‘Well, if you won’t let me in then I’m coming up.’ Before I can stop him, he hauls himself onto the porch roof, and once he’s up, reaches for my windowsill. ‘Open the window, will you? Wide as you can.’

Excitement courses through me. Adam is here and I’m sneaking him into my bedroom. I’ve never done anything like this before and it feels wrong but right at the same time.

He makes far too much noise clambering in and I press my finger to my lips, urging him not to speak for a moment. I head to my bedroom door and stick my ear against it, listening out for any sounds in the hall. There is nothing. We are safe.

I turn back to Adam, who is now pacing my room. ‘Why are you here?’ I ask again, trying to sound annoyed, when really I don’t care what’s brought him here, I just want to rush over and hug him.

‘Leah, listen. I wanted to come and meet you after school. I was on my way but then Hollis stopped me.’ He takes a deep breath, sucking in as much air as he can. ‘She said I owed her a detention for not turning up to one she gave me last week, and that I had to do it right then.’ He shakes his head, as if he’s trying to erase the memory. ‘Can you believe that? I told her she couldn’t make me do it, that she had to let my parents know in advance and guess what she said?’ He looks at me, nodding his head as if he is expecting me to have a go at guessing.

‘I…um…’

‘She said she’d already called them. What the hell? The sneaky bitch had planned it all with my mum. I could fucking—’

‘Shhhhh. Keep your voice down.’ Even Adam’s whisper is too loud.

He ignores me and makes no effort to lower his voice. ‘She kept me there for an hour, Leah. An
hour.
What other teacher does detentions for that long? I swear…’ He trails off and gets lost in his thoughts before finally calming down. Grabbing my hand, he leads me over to the bed and we sit cross-legged, facing each other with our knees touching.

‘What’s wrong with your eyes? Have you been…?’ I’m glad he doesn’t finish his sentence.

‘I’m fine,’ I say, swiping at my eyes, probably making them worse.

‘It’s all her fault, Leah. She’s the one who’s done this to you. Made you think I wasn’t coming. That I didn’t want to know you any more. Can you see that?’

I nod and smile, even though it is nonsense. He got himself that detention, after all. I think about asking him what he did in the first place, but think better of it. The sooner I get him off this topic the better.

‘Kiss me,’ he says suddenly. ‘Make it all better.’

So I do.

And then we are naked in my bed. Adam’s body feels cold against my skin, probably because he’s been outside, and I move closer against him to warm him up.

It feels different this time, better because we have already done it once, so this should be easier. Less pressure. I just have to let myself go. At first I think I won’t be able to; I’m thinking too much when I should be relaxing and going with it, but then I feel Adam getting excited and that makes me feel good.

I give in to him. He is mine and I am his in this moment. Nobody else exists.

When it is over I can’t wipe the smile from my face. I have forgotten all about Adam not turning up, and the fact that my parents are across the hall. He, I am sure, has also left all his troubles behind. His detention. Miss Hollis. None of it matters any more.

But even though he smiles at first, it’s soon replaced with a frown and that familiar distant look is right back on his face. We lie still and silent. I want to ask him so many questions but I don’t dare. Imogen has told me Corey’s usually too tired afterwards and doesn’t like to talk much for a while.

‘I better go,’ Adam says, eventually. ‘I don’t want your parents catching me.’ He pulls the duvet from him and hunts around for his clothes. ‘But I’ll see you tomorrow. Let’s meet at lunchtime. At the art block?’

I agree, thinking how lucky adults are that they don’t have to sneak stolen moments together. Their time is their own to spend how they please. But one day that will be us too. One day soon.

Even though I’m disappointed that Adam has to leave, I can’t complain. There is no way he could stay much longer. Rather than making him climb back out of the window, I risk sneaking downstairs and opening the front door. I don’t know how it’s possible Mum and Dad don’t hear the click as it closes, but nobody stirs. We have got away with it.

When I’m back in bed, I roll onto my front to breathe in Adam’s lingering scent, a mixture of sweat and deodorant that can only belong to him. And I try to forget that he was distracted again tonight. That I couldn’t take his mind off Miss Hollis for long.

NINETEEN

Spending the night with Julian had lifted my spirits. Walking to work the next morning, I could feel the smile still plastered to my face. I had transformed into a lovesick teenager, a feeling that was haunting me at the same time as it left me elated.

But even in the midst of that, I warned myself to calm down, that if I got carried away I would only be heading for a fall. Planning for a more fulfilling life was not without huge risks. I may have been telling myself this, but my stubborn smile remained, until I arrived at the library and crashed back down to earth.

‘Leah! Where have you been? You were due in at eight today to help with the reorganisation.’ Sam stood before me, her hands resting on her hips as she fired her words at me.

I checked my watch. It was nearly ten to nine but I wasn’t due in until nine. I told Sam this but she snorted and raised her eyebrows.

‘You were due in at eight. I’ve been trying to call your mobile since ten past. This isn’t acceptable, Leah. Maria’s not in until twelve so I’ve been on my own down here, trying to get everything ready before we open. I’m going to have to give you an official warning for this.’

Worse than the way she spat her words at me was the mistrust emanating from her narrowed eyes. It was more than mistrust, though, it was dislike. I was sure of this. Until recently we had always got on well so I considered asking her if I’d done anything wrong. But now was not the time. All I could do for the moment was prove I wasn’t late, that I was due in at nine, not eight.