Playing With My Heartstrings (13 page)

BOOK: Playing With My Heartstrings
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Chapter 9

The rest of the day trip to Millingbourne was spent admiring breathlessly stunning designer dresses (the shops claimed that the brands were designer, which I didn't strongly believe, but nevertheless the beauty of the dresses claimed my fashion-adoring heart) displayed in shop windows, purchasing several t-shirts and denim shorts in which I'd be slouching around the house until the new school term in September began, and I lazily strolled in the dull heat of the sunshine along with Cassie and her hyperactive friends, who'd admitted to drinking way too many cans of caffeine-loaded Coke with their lunch when my preying eyes hadn't fallen upon them.

 

Although the trip took my mind off the traditional boredom I'd typically endure each summer, I was hell-bent focused on my encounter with Luke, whose polite and friendly manner had crept its way into my heart, which was still longing to meet up with Joel again, despite my stubborn decision to never see his face - apart from school - ever again. Luke had a particular charm of his own which I somehow liked and unlike the majority of boys I purposely avoided in the classroom, I felt like I could chat to Luke and not be afraid of his mocking me and frankly behaving a chimpanzee because he couldn't be bothered to understand my words - yes, he was laid-back, just like Joel, and his good looks, which no girl could possibly deny, did give me a slight flutter, but Luke was on the completely different side of the spectrum because I was able to hold a proper conversation with him sans butterflies scattering inside my stomach, threatening to make me sick.

 

By the time Cassie and I arrived back home (amusingly, a lot earlier than we first thought, thanks to Valerie making a more precise estimate), my sore, aching feet were a nightmare to walk on and I gingerly hobbled into the house, collapsing onto the nearest sofa in the living room and lying on my back for what seemed to be half an hour.

 

"You OK, Sadie?" Dad asked, his gruff voice beside me. 

 

I uncomfortably shifted my body, turned my head around, and replied, "Yeah, Dad, just a bit tired, that's all."

 

Dad grinned, a hint of nostalgia relaxing his features. "Ah, I remember when I used to go on trips all over the country at your age - I was always wiped out at the end of the day!" then burst into a soft, low chuckle, happy memories coming back to him. "What did you do, then?"

 

My mouth hanging wide open, I froze, as realization dawned on me as I was totally unsure how to break the news to my parents about getting a piercing without any permission. Earlier, an act of bold teenage rebellion had blinded my eyes from reality, believing that I was untouchable and could get away with anything, but five minutes later I came back to earth with a sore bump, suddenly aware of what I'd recently done. I only hoped that Dad was in his greatest mood, when a glass of wine was the perfect antidote to relaxing and hopefully forgetting about his daughter's reckless in-the-moment decision.

 

"I, uh, g-got something d-done," I nervously stammered.

 

"Such as?" Just for once when I wished that Dad didn't pay the slightest attention to my where-abouts or actions, he was all ears, curiosity visibly etched all over his face.

 

"Um," I mumbled, stopping to consider my next, vitally important words.

 

Dad's face turned a horrible shade of grey. "Did something bad happen?"

 

"No, of course not, Dad!" I panicked, failing to maintain a sense of calm. "You, um, won't be angry with me, will you?"

 

"With what?" Dad demanded, exasperation turning his face from an ashen grey to a frightening shade of angry red.

 

"I just got my ears pierced again, that was all," I muttered, avoiding Dad's bull-like steady gaze in fear of starting an earth-quaking argument.

 

Dad breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh God, I thought that you'd got a tattoo or something," he murmured.

 

I bit my lip to hold back a fit of laughter. "Dad, you know that I don't want a tattoo - I almost fainted by getting my ears pierced!"

 

Dad and I shared a light-hearted laugh. "So," he said, pulling back a strand of loose hair from my face to see my disguised pair of new earrings, "where did you get the piercing done at?"

 

"A tattoo parlour with one of Cassie's friends' sister and her friend."

 

Dad grimaced. "You weren't asked for any other piercings, were you?"

 

"I was thinking of going for something a bit different" - as if I was going to be specific on what that different something could've been in front of my dad, who never bought any jewellery for Mum until three years ago, though I was the one who chose the garnet necklace - "but I changed my mind."

 

"You don't cope well with pain, do you?"

 

Unsurprisingly, Dad absolutely hit the nail on the head with that one. Even as a baby, I would go into a full-on tantrum if my head was slightly knocked and my screams could be heard across the street, which, thinking about it, was rather embarrassing.

 

"No," I admitted.

 

"Well." Dad put his hands in his pockets, whistling an intelligible tune, and tensely rocked back and forth on his leg. "Come on, get up and see your mother - ya tea is almost ready."

 

As Dad didn't wait for me to pull myself up from the opulent cream leather sofa, I took my time leaving the reserved living room, where stacks of old DVDs were piled high in the corner near the blank television.

 

Conversations with my father were, fair to say, a little bit on the awkward side. Even if the topic of choice was only about ear piercings.

 

********

 

In the middle of the humid night, I bolted out of bed, my head buzzing with my recent dream. Strangely, my dreams didn't focus on Joel, creepy green woods or rose meadows; just pure lightness that lifted my body into the air and made me invisible to all types of emotion.

 

I tiptoed over to my window, lifted the heavy curtains, then gazed at the twinkling stars brightening the night, which was otherwise completely in the dark due to the streetlights having not been brought to electric life.

 

Minutes flowed as rapidly as a never-ending stream and the stars entirely captivated me, becoming a dream of its own, though I instinctively knew that I was awake and conscious, with no longings of wanting to go back to bed just yet.

 

Eventually, I did, and I trawled back under the warm covers, fluffing up my flat-as-a-crisp pillows and turning onto my side, awaiting the next course of sleep to claim me. As my breathing slowed and thoughts became increasingly drowsy, a sound awoke the night: the raucous hoot of a nocturnal owl.

 

Quietly grumbling about desperately being in need of a welcome lie-in the following morning, I exhaustingly crawled from my bed to the window, where the yellow, piercing eyes of an owl - one that I'd stake my life on having seen before - were staring at my half-conscious form, then it flew away in the night, leaving me in a speechless slumber.

 

*********

 

Sometimes, Cassie was as savage and domineering as a hungry-for-a-human lion, desperate to be fed new, thrilling information and terrifyingly imperious if denied what she coveted. Well, she was my little, occasionally arrogant sister after all.

 

"Sadie, you've got to tell about him! Really, it calls for a major sister emergency - I'll ring the police if you don't confess!"

 

I sleepily yawned, wishing that I'd had time to catch up on my disrupted sleep pattern from the previous night, and rolled my eyes in the manner of a I'm-so-bored-and-you're-getting-on-my-nerves teenager, which I supposed I was at heart.

 

"Sadie!" Cassie growled, her tone turning hard and exasperated. "I've asked you at least five times to tell me about that boy you met yesterday - why are you so reluctant?"

 

Maybe because it's none of your business? I wanted to say, but achingly bit my tongue and hastily swallowed my words, which definitely would've sent Cassie round the bend.

 

"Sometimes, I don't have to tell you everything," I said matter-of-factly. "I met another boy apart from Joel - woo-hoo! Cas, it's not a huge deal as you seem to be making it out to be."

 

Cassie frowned, a bitter taste of disappointment stuck in her mouth. "I just want you to have a boyfriend, that's all," she told me in a little-girl voice, suddenly seeming years younger.

 

The gut-wrenching sensation of guilt played on my conscience and I instantly yearned to get up my hard, golden wooden chair and give Cassie the hugest hug she'd ever had in her life; at the end of the day, Cassie only wished to help others and create a happier atmosphere, which I'd forgotten about in a moment of foolish irritation.

 

"I know, Cassie, I know," I said, fidgeting with my fingers.

 

Cassie rolled around on my unmade bed - from time to time, especially when an act of laziness seemed forced me to abandon my boring chores, I couldn't be bothered tidying up after my thoughtless messes and making my bed, which was impossible to not drawl on during the night - and she curled her petite-looking feet into the air, gazing at one of my many Shetland pony posters which I'd first taped onto my wall when I was nine. I'd been begging Dad to allow me to take them down for the past two years, but he refused because part of the paint would chip off, which then resulted in a food-avoiding sulk for the entire afternoon. Until Mum served burgers at dinner.

 

"You will tell me about him some time, won't you, Sadie?" Cassie passively wondered, appearing to have transported into an entirely different world far away from Earth.

 

I thought about it. "Yes, I will tell you about Luke" - it took a second for Cassie to register that Luke was the name of the boy in question - "if something does happen. However," I sighed, "I don't know whether it will."

 

"Luke would be crazy not to." Cassie rotated her head, our eyes staring at each others, sharing words that needn't be spoken aloud.

 

***********

 

I stayed up terribly late that night, partly due to the blistering heat, which had officially turned into a sweltering, though apparently short-lived heat wave, but mostly because I was awaiting a reply back from the text I'd sent Luke ten minutes before.

 

I don't know what motivated me to do it - a pang of bravery drove me to digging out my phone out of my perfume sample-stacked drawer, quickly typing a simple, yet genial message, and by the time I'd pressed the 'send' button, I'd awakened from my dreamy haze, surprised by my out-of-character actions.

 

Usually, I was always too apprehensive to be the one to make the first move, which would give me the jitters and make me a nervous wreck, so I was utterly unsure where my new-found boldness came from. As I kept reminding myself, if anything did occur, I'd be experiencing a whole new adventure with Luke, who, despite sharing a few of Joel's irresistible traits, was unique in his own way. This time, I could start afresh without being the centre of a massive upset or getting lost in the middle of the menacing woods.

 

This time, I was free.

 

For the past day, Luke had been the only person - the sole thing - in my distorted mind, which rewinded every single word, each heart-fluttering smile and break-the-ice laughs, and my heart raced with an unsourceable energy whenever I thought of meeting him again. Sure, he might've considered a reunion - how that 50-years-in-the-future-after-school word made me cringe - within a few weeks, but temptation believed otherwise.

 

I wanted to see him sooner than expected and talk as freely as we did in the filled-to-the-brim restaurant, albeit without a crowd listening to our every word.

 

When the ringtone rang through the still, silent air, I almost jumped out of my skin as if I'd just seen a ghost, even though I'd spent the previous ten minutes anticipating the message. Brushing my hands shakily through my sweaty locks of hair, I grasped my phone from the desk in a breathless rush and read the reply, my eyes darting from each word to another.

 

Sure, I'll meet up with you tomorrow. 2pm ok?

 

It couldn't have been better.

 

*********

 

I eagerly skipped through the daisy-scattered park, which was strangely peaceful for an afternoon, and my lip gloss and Tic Tac-filled handbag bumped against my hips as I moved to an imaginary rhythm, beyond thrilled that I was going to rendez-vous with Luke, who may have become my new and first male friend. A tell-tale sign of change.

BOOK: Playing With My Heartstrings
12.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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