Riding on Air (11 page)

I held the hard rectangle of my net-book, the baby laptop computer that was all I had to carry to and from school because of a special medical exemption for my mangled hands, and tried not to be jealous of all those days and all those chances that Tash and Eleni, and Oliver the bus driver and all these other kids would get that I would not.

My phone chimed in my pouch pocket announcing a text message and I carefully slipped my hand in to retrieve it. Thumbing the slider, I looked at the screen and my heart took a single giant leap into the back of my throat.

‘Sweet dreams of u last night. Can i pick u up frm school this arvo? Will xxx'

My stomach rapidly unwound itself just long enough to twist and heave in the opposite direction. I palmed my phone back into my pouch before Tash or Eleni could notice what I was looking at and tried for all of five seconds to
not
dissect and analyse every word, every syllable, every letter. Futile hope.

He hadn't said he loved me, or that he wanted me to be his girlfriend or anything, but what were all those x's if they weren't kisses? Was I seriously even expecting him to say something like that at this stage? Would I have admitted it to him? Get a grip, Melissa.

Sweet dreams. Was that a good thing? Surely it was good. At least he definitely wanted to see me again; he was picking me up from school. Oh god, unless that was just because he realised he'd made a terrible mistake and he wanted to tell me to my face. And I still had to think of something to text back to him.

Stress. Oh yeah, I was on familiar terms with that one. Who knew that having the guy of your dreams actually dreaming of you would be so anxiously stomach churning?

I sat on a log at the edge of the student car park—foreign territory for me—looking at the rows of mud-splashed utes, four-wheel drives and small, shiny town cars, all bearing a green or red P plate, waiting for William. Or at least I tried to sit. Mostly I got up and wandered back and forth, only to sit down again in an effort not to look too pathetically obvious to the students who passed me on the way to their cars. A couple I knew had said ‘Hi' and I managed a strangled ‘hey' in response. More than a few just gave me a slanting, sceptical sideways glance, as if wondering what the hell I was doing here. I wondered the same thing.

I was fizzing with a bubbly mixture of anticipation and apprehension, aware I was out of my comfort zone and quite possibly way out of my league. My bus left from the other side of the school grounds, so if William stood me up I had buckley's chance of making my regular ride. I'd have to hope I could catch Dad so he could collect me on the way home, or try to track down Jennie to come pick me up.

Just the thought had me up and moving again, my netbook and the few other bits and pieces I needed for my homework bumping against my back in the lightweight bag I kept in my locker. I cradled my phone in my pouch pocket, waiting for it to ring or beep. Waiting for it to be William telling me he'd made a mistake and wasn't coming.

A low, rumbling engine grumbled down the gears as it slowed for the turn into the car park and my stomach did somersaults in response. I tried to breathe slowly and deeply, telling myself it could be anyone, that I was kidding myself because I didn't have the acute hearing of one of our dogs who were able to distinguish one car from another. Despite the internal lecture I peered down the row of parked cars expectantly. There was no way I could prevent the springing leap and skittish roll of my heart when William's cream Holden ute came into sight.

I swallowed against the sudden dryness of my mouth and was glad both my hands were safely tucked away in my pouch pocket. Not simply to keep them safe as usual. I didn't want William or any of the other kids still dawdling past to see how badly my hands were shaking.

I moved forward to the edge of the asphalt on trembling legs as William swung the ute around the end of the row of parked cars and pulled up alongside me. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, almost paralysed with uncertainty. I didn't know where to look or what to say or what to do.

William emerged from the driver's door, impossibly tall and broad, a blue work singlet leaving his shoulders bare. After that, I knew exactly where to look. I think I stopped breathing.

“Melissa, hey,” he said, coming around the front of his car and reaching for my bag. He slid it carefully off my shoulder and silver sparkles fluttered at the edges of my vision. I made myself push the stale air out of my lungs and take another breath, only to have it catch in the back of my throat when his fingers brushed my bare arm.

I couldn't speak, could only stand there like a fool, held immobile under the rushing ambush of desire and surprise and pure longing. He was so unbearably gorgeous with the afternoon sun picking out bronze glints in his dark hair and framing the muscles of his shoulders in highlights and shadows as he hefted my bag in one hand and slid the other beneath my hair at the back of my neck.

“Melissa,” he said again and then right there in the school car park he leant in to kiss me, his strong hand warmly clamped to the back of my neck. My skin rippled almost painfully into goose bumps and I gasped in shock against his mouth before his lips claimed mine. Oh
my
.

Just when the silver sparkles were flickering around the edges of things again he broke off the kiss, resting his forehead against mine.

“I wasn't imagining it,” he said quietly, causing my stomach to fold in on itself and climb up beneath my ribs in utter surrender. I knew how it felt; if I'd had any thought that I could get out of this without a broken heart I understood at that moment just how badly I'd been kidding myself.

“Are you riding this afternoon?” he asked me, as he opened the passenger door.

“Yes,” I said, finally regaining control of my tongue. I felt my cheeks flame as I thought about what my tongue had been doing 10 seconds ago and my stomach thumped down into what felt like my knees at the next thought I had which was how much I wished he'd tangle his tongue with mine again. Right now.

“Got time for a coffee first?”

“Yes,” I said, sliding into the seat. He grinned at me and shut the door. I watched him through the windscreen as he came back around to the driver's side, as if afraid he'd vanish in a puff of smoke or a shower of sparks or something. If I'd had normal fingers I'd have pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming, but a glance down at my gnarled hands proved this was no fantasy. In my dreams my fingers were always perfect, as long and elegant as any of the models you see in the magazine ads for diamond rings, nail polish or fancy charm bracelets.

William slid in beside me, buckled his seat belt, then turned the key and the old ute rumbled into life. He put the car in gear then glanced at me and frowned. Fear rose like a dark cloud to cloak me in foreboding. He'd changed his mind, remembered somewhere he had to be. Realised who he was wasting his time with. William put the car back in neutral and reached across me with his long arms. I sank in the seat, realising he was doing up my seat belt. For the first time in my entire 16 years I'd completely forgotten to do up my belt.

William drew the belt across me, his head only inches from mine, eyes intent on sliding the metal buckle into the clip beside my hip. I was hyper-aware of him being so close to me. It was like I could feel his body heat radiating into the gap between us. I wanted so badly to reach out and thread my fingers into the dark hair curling against his neck, but I was too afraid. Kiss me again, William, so
I
know I wasn't imagining it.

The clip slid home with that familiar sharp, clean click but William gave it a tug as if he didn't trust it. He paused, turning his head, his denim-blue eyes shifting to look calmly into mine. I gazed back at him, heart rate bumping up another 20 beats, wondering if he wanted to kiss me, wondering if he would.

But he didn't. Instead of making the most of our faces being a mere kissing distance apart, he gave me a crooked sort of half smile and reached for the gear stick. Then he put on his indicator and checked his mirrors, all very proper, and steered the ute out of the car park. As William pointed the ute towards the centre of town, I sat stiffly beside him and tried not to tie my brain into the same kind of knots as my stomach by worrying if I'd done something wrong, if that was why he hadn't kissed me again. I hadn't said much, maybe he thought I wasn't glad to see him. But surely it was (and had always been) totally obvious how delighted I was just to be near him; I always felt as though I may as well be walking around carrying a billboard with “I love William” spelled out in flashing neon lights.

I stole a glance at him, taking the opportunity to look my fill while he was focussed on the heavy after-school traffic heading along the highway. I looked at the untidy dark hair curling against the strong tanned column of his neck and realised by the length that he must be overdue for a haircut. I stared as the muscles in his arms swelled and contracted when he turned the steering wheel and had to drop my gaze abruptly when he turned towards me at a T-intersection to look for traffic in both directions. I stared at the faded blue jeans moulded to the curving muscle in his thigh and caught my lip in my teeth as his leg rose and fell when he worked the clutch. Again I almost had to swallow my heart at the surge of longing to touch him that raced through my blood stream. I tucked my hands into my pouch, determined to keep them safe from temptation, safe from getting hurt. If only my heart was so easy to insulate.

“He seems a bit full of himself,” William said, watching Jinx snort and hump his back as he cantered past in the round yard.

“Trot, Jinx,” I said firmly and Jinx hesitated, flicking his ear towards me, but then he gave another booming snort and kicked his hind legs in the air before bounding off again in a stiff-legged canter.

I moved my whip hand across my body, holding it out like a barrier and took a step to the right, cutting Jinx off for his disobedience and turning him around in the opposite direction. He wheeled around and changed gaits down to a trot, but it was a head-high tail-waving trot that wasn't doing a thing to settle him down or improve him gymnastically.

I kept my whip low and my body position quiet, turning slowly to watch Jinx go round as I thought about what to do. I could go and get the lunge rope and the chambon so I had more contact and control and give riding him a miss, or I could just let him use up energy for a few more laps and then hop on. One thing I was sure of, I couldn't do both. My hands hadn't settled down after camp the way I'd hoped they would and there was no way they'd stand up to too much just yet.

“He hasn't had enough work,” I said, excusing Jinx's behaviour. William, who was leaning on the rails to watch Jinx, lowered his head to look at me instead.

“Got yourself a boyfriend or something?” he asked.

I glanced at him, caught by something in his tone. He didn't sound exactly light and jokey, almost as though he was asking me something.

“Could be,” I hedged, unsure and floundering.

I stepped in and turned Jinx back in the original direction, more for something to do than because he really needed to be turned yet. Jinx sat back on his hocks and moved off smartly in a good trot, back swinging, neck starting to lengthen and round down, stretching the ligaments and muscles along the top of his back and neck. His shiny black mane lifted away from the rich brown of his neck, rippling like an inky wave and I watched the black flash of his legs moving in rhythmic pairs. My heart settled and my cranky stomach smoothed out as I watched my horse begin to work properly around the yard. I put him through some quick transitions—walk-trot-canter-walk-trot—and he did it so obediently, so perfectly, that pride made me grin like a fool. I couldn't believe this beautiful horse was mine. Mine to ride, to compete, to train. Mine to love.

I remembered William and glanced quickly at him; an embarrassed flare of heat going off in my chest. He'd think me an idiot to be getting so soppy over my horse. William's dark eyes met my gaze steadily. He looked back at me for a freakishly long beat.

“I'd give anything for you to look at me like that,” he said. Almost before he'd finished the last word his eyebrows rose as if in surprise and he dropped his gaze and shrugged. He looked uncomfortable all of a sudden, as if his clothes were too tight or his body too big. I know that feeling so well from the inside, I guess it shouldn't surprise me that I recognised it when I saw it.

“Like what?” I blurted, too astonished to censor my words the way I usually did.

“Like you loved me more than anything else in the world.”

William scuffed his boot into the grass beneath the lowest rail. Again, that awkward shrug, shoulders rising unevenly upwards, his hands dangling over the rail, stiffly motionless.

Wow. Not for the first time, I was left floored by William's ability to go beyond the usual lame teenage pick-up lines and come out with something so unexpected and honest it just about stole my breath away. Maybe it was because he was that little bit older than the guys I knew from my classes at school or maybe he was just more mature because he'd been working full time on his family's farm since he left school in Year 10. It didn't really surprise me that William had proved himself to be attentive, thoughtful and just all-round perfect boyfriend (gulp) material. I mean, I'd been watching him for ages and these were basically the reasons I'd fallen for him in the first place.

Well, that and those divine blue eyes. And how when he looked at you and smiled it made you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world, even if you were just a tongue-tied 13-year-old, equally self-conscious about disappointingly late-budding boobs and all-too-rapidly swelling joints.

I let my whip trail towards the ground and Jinx dropped back into walk. But for once I was focused on something other than my horse. It wouldn't hurt him to walk for a bit. Even as inexperienced in these things as I was, I knew I couldn't ignore the words William had thrown out there.