Unconditional (7 page)

As Joe pulls up at the end of my road I sit in silence, willing him to say something and wishing I had never
asked about either his past girl or his parents. What with Dannii’s antics and now my clumsy prying, my first ever real date has been kind of a disaster.

Or maybe not. I unclip my belt and go to say ‘bye’ when he reaches for me, not in a lungey grabby way but carefully as if he thinks I’m fragile or something, stroking my cheek and then sliding his hand round the back of my neck. He leans over and my heart starts pounding as I realise he’s going to kiss me again. I’ve been waiting for this all night yet now I just sit frozen, staring at his mouth as it comes towards me in what feels like slow motion. I don’t want to throw myself at him again so when his lips touch mine I barely respond, but when his warm mouth encloses mine and his hand tightens on the back of my neck I let out a little gasp before I start kissing him back as if my lips and tongue have a will of their own.

We kiss for what feels like ages, and then I feel his other hand creeping up my ribcage. Somehow we’re now nearly lying back across the seats with him over me, his hip wedged into my thigh. It’s slightly uncomfortable and I turn, which brings his hand up right under my breast. I freeze, having a moment’s panic that he’s going to try and grope me, but he slides his hand around my breast up to my collarbone, and then down a little again, then around again, but without actually touching me.

Which makes me want him to. I arch my back, almost pushing my chest into his hand but he slides it down and away again, breaking away from the kiss to nibble at my lower lip. It’s so lovely and so weirdly frustrating all at once that I nip him back with a little more force.

‘Easy, tiger.’ He laughs, my breath warm on his neck. He kisses me again and shifts his weight, and I can feel just how turned on he is through his jeans. Almost in wonder and hardly believing my own daring, I reach down and
brush my hand between us, rubbing my palm over the bulge in his pants. Joe gasps and moves his hips away.

‘Ash, don’t, I’ll embarrass myself,’ he whispers in my ear, and I blush, realising just what he means. I scramble to sit up, not quite believing what I’ve just done, and straighten my top. My hands are trembling. He just sits there looking at me with a funny little smile on his face.

‘What?’ I ask, defensive.

‘You’re so hot,’ he says, and grins when I blush again, though inside there’s a little cheerleader shaking her pom poms. He thinks I’m hot! We sit and grin at each other for a few more minutes before I get out, nearly tripping because my legs are shaky.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow?’

‘Sure,’ I respond, which would sound a lot cooler if I wasn’t still grinning like I want to split my face. He gives me a little wave as he drives off and I practically run into my house. The dog bounces up to me with his tongue lolling and tail wagging, picking up on my mood.

I start to fix a sandwich, still thinking about Joe’s mouth and hands on me and the ‘hot’ comment, when Mum comes in from the door as fast as I did, looking like she’s just been laughing. I wave at her before it hits me that her hair is all mussed up and she’s got a silly grin on her face. Just like me, walking in after kissing Joe. I go past her into the hall and open the front door to see a car driving away that looks a lot like my dad’s. I crane my neck trying to see the number plate when Mum comes up behind me and takes the door, ushering me in.

‘Hurry up, it’s cold.’

‘Who were you out with again?’ I ask and she narrows her eyes at me.

‘Don’t question me, young lady, I should be asking you that. How did your date go anyway?’

She’s changing the subject on purpose, I just know it. My good mood deflated, I don’t want to talk to her about Joe, not even the good bits.

‘It was fine,’ I shrug. Mum looks disappointed and ruffles my hair, then goes into the kitchen. Normally I’d be getting twenty questions.

‘Night then,’ I say, and she turns and beams at me and offers her cheek for a kiss, but I know I’m right; there’s something going on. I hope it’s not Dad, I really do, but I don’t want to ask. Upstairs I take off my make-up, brush my teeth and throw myself on the bed, wanting to think about Joe but still worrying about Mum when my phone beeps. It’s him.

Home now. Nite gorgeous
.

And that’s all it takes to put the smile back on my face.

Joe, Joe, Joe. He’s all I can think about, to the point that instead of taking notes in Sociology I’m doodling hearts and not very good flowers on the edge of the page, resisting temptation to scribble ‘Ash loves Joe’. I’m not fourteen anymore.

‘Ashley?’

I look up, puzzled, to see the teacher looking at me in bemusement and the rest of the class staring at me expectantly and realise he’s just asked me a question I didn’t even hear. Flushing, I desperately rack my brains to remember anything he’s said in the last five minutes, before he saves me any more embarrassment and moves on to someone else. The boy I’m sitting next to, Dwayne, looks at me and mouths, ‘are you okay?’ looking seriously concerned as if I might have a terminal illness or something. I just nod and cover my page with my arm, but he has already glanced at the hearts and looks away with a little smirk. I feel horribly exposed, and half turn my back to him. I like Dwayne and often eat lunch with him, but I’m not ready to share Joe just yet. Not even with Dannii, or perhaps least of all with her given her behaviour last night. She’s not in today, no doubt nursing a serious hangover.

This is different to any of my schoolgirl crushes; after all, something has actually happened. Every time I think of that, of his hand creeping up my ribcage and my own clumsy and curious fumbling, a warm melting feeling starts in my belly and spreads through my whole body. I’m on hyper alert lately, as if all my senses have been heightened. As much as it’s a kind of nice feeling – nice being a totally inadequate description, but I can’t seem to find anything that describes it – it’s also uncomfortable and
totally unfamiliar. Did I say that I love being in love? Well maybe now that I’m actually getting some hands-on experience I’m not so sure.

The class ends with me having learned precisely nothing, and I’m so used to being a bit of a class nerd that I feel guilty and a bit disorientated, like the time I cut class with Dannii and Rianne and spent the whole two hours fretting about what I was missing. Well, it was exam year.

I find my usual seat in the library and fire up my laptop, intending to do some research for that history essay which I still haven’t completed, and instead logging straight on to Facebook, wondering if Dannii has posted anything about last night. Seeing the icon flashing that shows I’ve got a friend request, I click on it and draw a sharp breath. Joe. It’s a grainy picture taken on a not very good phone by the look of it, but it’s unmistakably him, those piercing eyes and that lush mouth.
The mouth I’ve kissed
. The thought sends a tingle through me. I accept it and go straight to his page to have a look. There’s only the one picture of him; it looks as though he only joined a few hours ago. Instantly I look at his friends list and see only a few people; with a sigh of relief I see they’re mostly boys. The thought of Joe sitting on the computer talking to other girls makes me queasy. I wonder if his ex is on here. I send him a quick message to say hi and then log off before I can drive myself crazy. Jealousy isn’t something I’ve ever experienced over a guy before and I’m amazed at how it feels; a sick, crawly feeling but also angry, like I want to hit something. Insane.

Insane or not, it bugs me all afternoon and I can’t concentrate on anything, it’s like I’m ill or something. As I’m walking home I debate with myself whether or not I should text him, then remember he will be at work, which raises the question of whose computer he was using. He didn’t seem at all interested in talking to me online when I
mentioned it last week. Perhaps he’s met other girls he wants to talk to as well.

In the end I ring Dannii, who answers the phone sounding sorry for herself.

‘Urgh, I feel rotten,’ she whimpers. ‘Dean didn’t go to work this morning either.’

That doesn’t surprise me. Dean is a future candidate for a trashy talk show if ever I saw one.

‘Are you still at his house, then?’

‘No, I came home earlier. My brother’s here; his girlfriend kicked him out.’

Dannii’s brother Michael is an older version of her; spoilt and a bit selfish yet everyone adores him. Totally gorgeous too, though I’ve never really been able to look at him like that. I can remember him at primary school trying to look up the girls’ skirts.

‘Joe’s on Facebook. I spoke to him earlier.’

I feel another sharp pang of jealousy in my gut. He must have been on there talking to Dannii before I had even gone online.

‘Wasn’t he at work?’

‘Yeah, he said he was on the laptop in the office. It must have been quiet; I was talking to him for about twenty minutes.’

Another pang, sharper this time.

‘Did he mention me?’

She pauses.

‘Not much. He did say to tell you he’d phone you when he finishes.’

My heart drops at her first words then leaps at the last.

‘Did he say what time?’ I ask in a rush, eager now, and Dannii just laughs.

‘You have got it bad haven’t you?’ she teases.

‘Shut up,’ I protest, but it makes me smile.

We wrap up the conversation by agreeing to meet up later, although if I’m honest, if Joe wants to see me again tonight I would rather Dannii and Dean weren’t there, and not just because of last night’s drunken antics. I want to be on my own with him.

When I get home there’s no sign of Mum, just a note by the fridge.

Gone out, won’t be back late, call me if you need anything
.
There’s stew in the pot. DO NOT walk home on your own
.

This is seriously weird. I mean okay, she does go out occasionally, but not without telling me where she’s going, even if just in passing. She’s hiding something, and I’ve got a sinking feeling I know exactly what it is. On impulse I pick up the house phone and call my dad without knowing quite what I’m going to say.

‘Where are you?’ I blurt out as soon as he picks up. He immediately sounds worried.

‘Ash? Is everything okay?’

‘Er, yeah. I was just wondering if you wanted to do something tonight?’

There’s an uncomfortable pause before he answers.

‘I’m a bit busy tonight, Princess, how about tomorrow?’

Busy with Mum? I want to ask, but don’t. I could be wrong, or even worse, I could be right. I know most kids with divorced parents would be happy if they thought their parents might get back together, but I’m not. I’m not a kid anymore for a start and it’s way too late for him to come swanning back into my life on a full time basis. I’ll be off to uni next year, and where will that leave Mum when he breaks her heart again?

But I don’t say any of this.

‘Fine, I’ll see you tomorrow,’ I snap. ‘And please stop calling me Princess.’ I slam the phone down before he can answer and storm upstairs. After fuming at the wall for
twenty minutes I ring Dannii again, but she sounds distracted and doesn’t understand why I’m so bothered.

‘They’re grown-ups, Ash, let them get on with it. Anyway they’ll be so busy with each other she won’t ask too many questions about Joe. Your mum won’t approve of him you know.’ She says the last bit with relish, as if she almost can’t wait for the anticipated drama. I murmur something non-committal and let her go, feeling a bit lost. I need someone to talk to and if it’s not Mum or Dannii, then who else is there? I don’t want to ring Rianne in case she’s busy with the baby and my class friends are more like homework buddies, not people I can pour my heart out to. On an impulse, I phone Joe. He picks up on the second ring.

‘Babe!’ He greets me warmly and I feel instantly a bit better, unable to stop myself smiling even though I was so upset a moment before.

‘Hi.’ I realise I have no idea what to say and there’s a silence before he speaks, and he sounds hesitant, almost shy, like on Sunday when he came to the café to ask me out.

‘I was wondering if you wanted to come round mine tonight? I could meet you from work?’

He’s inviting me to his house? Wow.

‘Will your aunt be there?’

‘Sure, but don’t worry, she won’t ask you a million questions or anything.’

I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed that we won’t be completely alone, but I am curious to both see his house and meet his aunt. Remembering how self-conscious he seemed about where he lived, I feel strangely flattered.

‘I’d love to.’

‘Great. I’ll meet you across from the park at six. I might be a bit oily from work.’

‘Oily’s great,’ I say, imagining him in his greasy overalls
and not a lot else and feeling glad he can’t see me blush down the phone.

As we say bye I look at the clock and groan when I see I’ve got nearly two hours to wait. Two hours to tie myself up in knots thinking about him and worrying about Mum. I try to eat some of the stew she’s left, but even though it’s delicious my stomach’s churning too much to eat. The next two hours feel like the longest of my life.

‘So you’re Ashley? Aren’t you gorgeous?’

His aunt, a small round woman, older than I was expecting but with a smile that takes ten years off her, greets me with so much warmth I take a step back in surprise, though it’s impossible not to grin back.

‘Leave her alone, Steph,’ he protests, winking at me and rolling his eyes. He hugs her with obvious affection, which surprises me, as most lads I know would find it horribly embarrassing. There are so many different sides to Joe he puzzles me, but seeing how relaxed he looks I’ve got no doubt this is very much the real him.

‘I’m just going for a quick shower,’ he says, grimacing down at his oily work overalls, which I personally think make him look sexy as hell. ‘Don’t let her terrorise you.’

His aunt swats at him playfully with her tea towel as he heads upstairs and ushers me onto a stool by the little breakfast bar. It’s a small house, a terraced two up two down that’s typical of the houses in this area, but it’s sparklingly clean and tastefully decorated. It’s not what I was expecting, and I feel a bit ashamed for making assumptions. Oblivious to my discomfort Steph chats away as she makes coffee, bombarding me with so many questions about classes, family etc. that I barely have time to answer them before she’s on to the next. So much for Joe’s assurances. Then she’s staring at me expectantly, and I can’t for
the life of me remember what she’s just said.