Heart of Glass (21 page)

python.

I wriggled against him and
tried to remain cool, a difficult task as the mere touch of his
hand was causing major heart palpitations that went right down to
my shoes.

“
Yes. Thank you, but not as
much as the other bottle….Nick, I really shouldn’t be in here. Dean
is suspicious.”

Nick growled. His eyes
devoured me. “Dean is a weasel. I don’t care what he thinks and
neither should you. This is a far better way to spend the
time.”

“
You think?”

“
I do. Now, turn
around.”

Standing with my back to
him, I could feel his breath, hot against my neck. My skin tingled
in anticipation. With one hand he reached around grabbing my
breast. His free hand reached up under my skirt and was pulling my
pants and stockings down. I wanted to be scared, annoyed even, but
I wasn’t…. I was so excited I could hardly breathe.

“
Take them off,” he
demanded.

I was horrified, there was
no foreplay, only demands, but already I could feel the adrenalin
rushing thorough me as I removed my knickers without
hesitation.

“
I’ve been dying for you
all week,” he murmured. “Brace yourself against the
wall.”

“
Why?”

“
You’ll see,” his voice
faded away as his hands fell to my hips and he pulled my bottom
towards him.

Holding me tight, he
unzipped himself and entered me from behind, pushing me against the
wall. I gasped at his sheer audacity of his movement. It was
glorious. Dean would never have the imagination to even consider
such an act of pure supremacy.

“
Have you thought about
me?” he whispered, as he thrust into me.

I nodded, closing my eyes
as, with each thrust, my excitement increased and he went deeper
inside me. The feeling of him swallowing my being, consuming my
soul in his pleasure was overwhelming.

“
Is this what you imagined
when you thought about me? Did you want me to fuck you from
behind?”

“
Oh, God, yes.”

His rhythm was slow and
powerful, driving me into oblivion.

“
Seeing you with him has
been making me crazy. You’re a fucking tease, Bella. You come on to
me without even knowing it. You’re too beautiful to waste on a jerk
like Dean. You need a strong man.”

“
And that would be you,
would it?”

He pushed again, harder
still, as the intensity building between us. “Get rid of him and
come back tonight after the bar closes, we have unfinished
business. I want to be in you and on you. I want to fuck you
senseless.”

“
Oh God, yes,” was all that
I could say, as once again, he sent me into the throes of
adulterous rapture.

It was over as quickly as it
began, but the smile stayed on both our lips as we went our
respective ways.

“
That was a bad thing to
do,” I said, as I adjusted my clothes.

“
Ah, but
Cara
you are a bad, bad
girl, that’s why I need you so much.” He gave my bottom a playful
slap and slipped through the cool room door and out into the bar. I
pulled my knickers back to where they belonged and untwisted my
stockings. It was going to be even harder to stay away from him
now, knowing what he could do. I lusted after him.

When I returned, Nick was
standing at the other end of the bar, his broad shoulders to the
throng, deliberately ignoring me and talking to a striking brunette
while he changed the tape in the deck. His hazel eyes followed me
as I took my seat and a grin curled his lips, those lips that had
bit my shoulder only minutes before. Otis blared to
life…

The action spoke louder than
a thousand words and Nick Edwards was definitely a man of
action.

“
Can we go home, Dean? I
don’t feel well.”

“
Are you ill? Your face is
very flushed.” He raised his hand to feel my brow.

“
Mmm. Can we
go?”

I had hardly uttered the
words before Dean was off his stool and leading me towards the
door, his arm around my shoulder.

As I turned to say goodbye I
saw Nick, still standing at the other end of the bar, watching
me.

“
Later?” he
mouthed.

All I did was
nod.

***

Exams were upon us in no
time at all and the boys and I had gone to ground in a studying
frenzy. I was working hard, reading until all hours and spending
large amounts of time in the library, mostly trying to avoid a
repeat performance with Nick. I knew I couldn’t go near him again.
Besides, the guilt of cheating on Mr Pompous, as I had begun to
call Dean, was beginning to play on my conscience, spreading like a
huge festering pustule, wanting me to squeeze it to release the
pressure. Staying away from Nick was the only cure.

On the Friday when exams
concluded for me, I was sitting cross-legged on the grass in the
sunshine, feeling pleased with myself and contemplating the thought
of having a very lazy holiday. A menthol cigarette burned in my
left hand, while the right flicked through the newspaper. A cup of
watery canteen coffee sat on the ground beside me. I’d made plans
to see Dean that night, but only briefly. He had one more paper to
write which meant another weekend apart and I didn’t want to
disturb his routine too much.

My eyes skimmed the pages,
stopping to read anything that appeared interesting, which seemed
to be mostly the ads. A cat stuck in a drainpipe for three days
didn’t count as earth shattering, even though it had made the front
page. As a last resort, I turned to the sports pages. Sometimes
there were perv-worthy photos if nothing else. Flipping to the back
page, I took a drag of my cigarette, my eyes glancing at the
headlines and photos. I could feel the crease form on my brow as I
picked up the paper for a closer look, my heart shuddering in my
chest. Right in the centre of the page, staring up at me in all his
devastating glory was Ben. The paper fell to my knees, its
newsprint scorching me. Holy shit. I had wanted to gaze at nice
looking boys, but not him. It took every ounce of my energy, on a
daily basis, to erase his face from my memory.

Lifting the sheets again, I
folded them in half and tried to read the story above his picture.
I couldn’t. My eyes were magnetized to that photo. Around his neck
Ben wore a medallion that he had won for ‘Rookie of the Year’, and
on his arm was a blonde girl, her body reminiscent of a Greek
goddess. She looked familiar, and not from the day I had covered
her shoes in spew, either. Natasha Potter had moved up in the world
since then, or so the caption read.

A proud Ben James, talented
young midfielder for the North Shore Cats, celebrates his win last
night with partner Natasha Potter, international model.

Partner. I flinched as if an
arrow had been shoved through my heart. Ben had taken me at my
word. I had told him I couldn’t love him so he’d found love someone
else and judging by the death defying grip his ‘friend’ Natasha had
on his arm, they’d become something more than friends. She was
holding on tight enough to give Super Glue a bad name.

Absently, my finger caressed
his cheek. He was smiling that smile. His eyes were looking
straight at me. His blond hair was shining. I could even see the
little cleft in his chin.

“
Oh Ben.”

It had been months. I’d told
him not to call, to stay away but I’d never expected he’d keep his
end of the bargain. I thought he’d come back, the way he always
did. I wondered if he’d looked, when I’d tried to hide, or had I
hidden too well. Sighing into the picture, I pondered what all this
really meant. Then I knew. Ben hadn’t suffered. He was holding that
Natasha. He had been lying all along. His words had never meant a
thing. I was better off without him.

Angry now, I turned the
polystyrene cup I’d been drinking from upside down, and placed it
over his head but, determined to be seen, his face seemed
transported to the page around it, to the grass, to the sky above.
He was everywhere. It wasn’t fair. Every time I got my life back,
Ben reappeared and ruined it all.

Well, not this time.
Grabbing my backpack, I ran down the path towards Justin and Phil’s
place, leaving them a note. This time I would kill his memory
forever.

***

The afternoon was devoted to
reinvention. What good was a new life without a new look and if I
were no longer boring Bella, then I would no longer need Ben. All
that stuff about promises and saving lives would be forgotten. The
bond would be broken. Luckily Kirk, the guy who did my hair, was
into the whole reinvention concept (rebirth, reincarnation
re-anything really) and agreed to it at a moment’s
notice.

“
Oh Bella,” he babbled, as
he sorted through the colour chart, “I love it when you come to the
salon; my other clients are sooo Dullsville.”

“
The only stipulation I
have is that it has to be blonde, white blonde.” I pointed to a
platinum shade. “That one.”

“
Oh goodie.” Kirk clapped
his hands with glee. He was like the kid who’s Mum, after bringing
him up on a strict diet of organic food, had just given him free
reign in the lolly shop, “And how about a little of this dark
chocolate underneath, for contrast?”

“
Definitely.”

While Kirk skipped off in
his tight leather pants to the mix the colours, I sunk into the
chair and a crazy thought crossed my mind. White blonde hair. Was I
trying to channel Ben through my hair now? No, I decided. I wanted
a change that was all. Mousey brown was boring.

Two hours of cutting,
colouring and blow drying later, the result was a white blonde
shaggy bob, longer at the front than the back with chocolate tips
around the edges. The fringe, also tipped black on the ends, was
chunky and hung over my brow and into my eyes. I looked in the
mirror at the girl in front of me. She looked rather waifish and
not like me. She looked different, cool. Like Debbie
Harry.

“
Oohh, tres glam-punk,
darling! If you don’t score with this hair, I’ll dress in drag and
run down Main Street,” cooed Kirk, flicking the final touch with
his scissors.

“
I love it, Kirk, you’re a
genius.”

***

When I walked into the pub
four hours later, I was happy, relaxed and ready for a good time. I
was positive I had blitzed the exams; I had a new hairdo and a
killer new outfit. I had sung ‘Borderline’ by Madonna at the top of
my voice for an hour whilst getting ready, including a three minute
hairbrush rendition into the mirror where I convinced myself I was
the next Madonna. For the first time in as long as I could remember
I felt completely at ease. My ghost was purged.

Stopping at the door, I
looked for the boys who were not at their usual table or spot at
the bar. Nick was there, though, pulling beers and looking as sexy
as ever without even trying.

“
Hi, Nick, where are my
boys?”

He looked up, and smiled.
“Hey,
Cara
,
awesome hair,” he whistled, his eyes roaming appreciatively down my
body, “as a matter of fact you look totally fuckable.” He leant
over the bar, his face close to mine, his eyebrow raised. “How
about it? Cool room? Five minutes?”

I gave him what I thought
was a disgusted frown and said nothing.

“
You’re blushing,
Cara
. I thought you were
over that,” he smirked, wickedly.

“
Well, you say those
things… anyone could hear.”

“
I know, that’s what makes
it exciting. See you later?” he flirted. “We’ll see if I can make
you blush all over.”

“
Nick! No. I told you we
couldn’t do it anymore. It’s not fair to Dean.”

“
What about us? What’s fair
to us? We are soooo good together.”

“
There is no us, you know
that, we play together.”

“
Well, when can we play
some more?”

“
Never,” I smiled, taking
my drink and heading for the eight ball table where I had spotted
the boys, at last.

Behind the bar Nick had put
his hand under his t-shirt and was pumping it over his heart.
“
Cara,
come on,
don’t be a tease, you’re breaking my heart.”

“
You’re hand’s in the wrong
spot, Nick, your heart’s in your pants.”

I walked around the table,
pinching Coops on the bottom as I went past, and flashing him my
cutest smile. “Hey, gorgeous.”

“
Fuck me… when you said you
had stuff to do… I, I thought you’d gone to the library or
something. You look ….fuck.”

“
Thanks.”

I liked my new clothes; a
black over-dyed denim mini skirt and sleeveless black lace t-shirt
that was just transparent enough to show a hint of skin. My legs
were covered with black lacy stockings and my favourite calf length
boots. My only adornment was the large diamante cross that Phil had
given me for my birthday. To complete the look I’d rimmed my eyes
with kohl and smudged it to give a smoky effect.