Undone (22 page)

After a while Lucas’s hands start to wander. I knew they would. I resist the urge to grab his filthy hand and snap every one of his fingers. I have to be OK with this. I have to pretend to want this. My breath catches in my throat and a soft sound escapes from me. It’s the sort of noise you’d make if you were enjoying yourself – if you liked how you were being touched.

The sound is a lie.

The four of us go for milkshakes after the film. Stu decides to try and down three milkshakes in five minutes if Lucas will pay for them. Nobody dared him to do something this stupid – he came up with the idea all by himself. I wonder if he has a notebook at home to record all his ideas for Stupid Things I Can Do Involving Food and Drink. Or maybe he just comes up with them on the spot. Perhaps it’s a gift.

We chant, ‘Down it, down it,’ and thump our hands on the Formica table, much to the annoyance of every other customer. None of them ask us to pipe down though – not even the lady with the helmet hair who’s glaring at us every time I look over. I give her a little wave accompanied by a sugar-sweet smile and she looks away in disgust, muttering something to her husband/boyfriend, whose hair is equally disastrous. I would never have done something like this a few months ago. Strangers were to be ignored, or feared, or whispered about. They were not to be confronted or taunted or laughed at – at least not openly.

I turn my attention back to Stu – two milkshakes down and going strong. I try not to think about helmet-hair woman. I try not to think about the possibility that maybe she’s had a really crap day at work or maybe her dog’s just died or maybe she’s just really not in the mood to put up with a bunch of noisy, irritating teenagers. I try not to think about the possibility that maybe this is her first night out in ages because she’s been so busy looking after the kids. Maybe she was really looking forward to a burger and onion rings and a night of peace and quiet. I try not to think about her. People like me do not think about people like her. We don’t even give them a second thought. Why would we?

Stu completes the challenge and Lucas slaps him on the back – hard. I think he’s trying to make him spew. Stu’s looking massively proud of himself, and only a little nauseous. ‘Come on, mate, cough up!’ He holds out his hand and Lucas hands over a tenner. I’m starting to think that Lucas really does have a never-ending supply of cash. I wonder what that must be like.

Nina seems impressed by Stu’s antics. Milkshake-downing must be high up on her list of desirable qualities in a boy. They start kissing and it looks like she’s using her tongue to try and get every last drop of milkshakey goodness from Stu’s mouth. It’s about as revolting as you’d expect.

I excuse myself to go to the loo, ignoring the unimpressed look on Lucas’s face. He doesn’t want to witness this display of grossness any more than I do. He needn’t worry though, because Nina disengages herself from Stu’s mouth, grabs her bag and scoots out of the booth too. Fantastic. Just what I need. Girl talk with Miss Vapid.

Nina heads straight for one of the two stalls in the toilets, but I hesitate because a) I don’t really need the loo anyway, and b) there’s no way I could pee with her in the next stall. Nina’s totally cool with it though. She starts talking, but I find it really hard
to concentrate while I can hear her peeing. I study myself in the mirror instead; you can tell I’ve been kissing.

Nina’s still going on about Stu as she washes her hands. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take. Maybe it’s time to have a little fun – lay some groundwork for getting back at Stu. ‘I think it’s really great that he’s making such an effort, you know.’

Nina’s expression is even more confused than usual.

‘Well, it can’t be easy for him, can it? He’s not exactly a “one-woman man”, is he?’ I even do that annoying inverted-comma thing with my fingers, which I have never, ever done before.

She shrugs and says, ‘That was before,’ with a tiny yet unmistakable pout.

‘Oh yeah, I know. He really likes you. I mean, he didn’t even flirt with that girl at the cinema.’

It’s a real struggle not to laugh at Nina’s face in the mirror. ‘Which girl?’

‘The one at the pick ‘n’ mix counter. She was after him for sure. I kind of got the feeling that he’d . . . that they’d . . . Sometimes you can just tell, can’t you? But it’s so great that you can trust him.’

Nina looks thoughtful as she applies sticky pink gloss to her lips and smacks them together a couple
of times before saying, ‘I
do
trust him.’ The emphasis betrays her true feelings.

I put my hand on her arm and give it a squeeze. ‘I think that’s great.’ Add a patronizing nod into the mix and that’s all it takes for the seeds of doubt to turn into full-blown paranoia.

‘Was she pretty?’

I run my fingers through my hair and pretend to think. ‘I dunno . . . I
guess
so. She looked a bit like you, now you mention it. Maybe a bit curvier?’

That went down about as well as expected. ‘I’m going to ask him about her.’

‘Okaaaaaay. If you really think that’s a good idea . . .’

‘Why wouldn’t it be?’ It’s too much for Nina to get her head around, all this thinking. Her poor brain just isn’t used to it.

I roll my eyes as if the answer couldn’t be more obvious. ‘He’ll think you don’t trust him, won’t he? And he’ll be so hurt and pissed off, he’ll probably head straight round to wotserface’s house for a rummage in her pick ‘n’ mix.’ I stop to let that sink in.

‘You’re right. I guess I’ll just have to keep an eye on him, won’t I? Just in case?’ She’s looking at me like I’m some kind of relationship guru. It’s hilarious.

I nod with all the (fake) sincerity I can muster. ‘That
sounds like a good idea . . . We’d better be getting back – the boys will be wondering where we are!’

Now it’s Nina’s turn to put her hand on my arm. ‘Thanks for telling me, Jem. You’re a good friend.’ She hugs me and I watch myself grin in the mirror.

Lucas offers to walk me home and I say no. I can’t stand the idea that I’m a defenceless female in need of a chaperone. We go back and forth for a couple of minutes – him insisting and me refusing. He’s obviously used to getting his own way. It’s getting tiresome, so I relent and agree to him walking me halfway. At least that means he’s not going too far out of his way. Not that I
care
about him going out of his way – it’s the principle of the thing. He thinks I need looking after, protecting. It’s patronizing in the extreme. (Of course, there’s always the possibility that he’s just being nice. But I can’t allow myself to think things like that.)

He takes my hand and we meander through the streets. It’s a nice evening to be strolling hand in hand with a boy. It’s just a shame it has to be this particular boy. I wish with all my heart I could be doing this with
my
boy. Kai.

I let him walk me more than halfway – more like two-thirds. It’s not that I’m enjoying his company or
anything; we’ve somehow ended up in the middle of a heated debate about films. I maintain that
Halloween
is the greatest horror movie ever made. Lucas is foolish enough to disagree with me. I stop in the middle of the pavement and reel off ten reasons why he couldn’t be more wrong.

He holds up his hands and laughs. ‘OK, OK, I give up! You win! I can’t compete with such in-depth – and frankly scary – knowledge.’ He gives me a sly look. ‘And if I’m being one hundred per cent honest . . . I’ve only seen the remake.’

‘Whaaaaat? Why the hell were you arguing with me if you haven’t even seen it?!’

‘That wasn’t arguing – that was
discussing
. There’s a difference. Arguing is stressful, discussing is fun. Plus it’s kind of funny watching you get all wound up about it.’

I narrow my eyes and plant my hands on his chest. His T-shirt is so thin that I can feel the heat of him underneath. I push him towards the side of the pavement. He backs up against a low wall and sits on it, his legs planted wide as usual. He looks up at me and grins. ‘You’re stronger than you look.’

‘Don’t patronize me, Lucas Mahoney. Don’t you dare.’ My voice is lower and throatier than normal. I can tell he likes it.

He grabs me round the waist and pulls me close. I feel trapped again, but I keep my smile in place. His hands feel huge and strong, even though I know full well they’re just normal boy-sized hands. In fact, his hands are rather dainty and refined if you really stop to look at them.

‘I wouldn’t dream of patronizing you. You are unpatronizable.’

‘That’s not a real word.’

‘I know. Can I kiss you now?’

Lucas Mahoney is staring at my mouth. He looks hungry. I shrug and say, ‘I suppose so . . .’ He lunges in and I duck my head out of the way. ‘On one condition . . .’

‘And what might that be?’

‘You have to promise you’ll watch
Halloween
with me.’ And as soon as the words are out of my mouth, it feels like the worst possible betrayal of Kai.
Halloween
was
our
thing. I won’t taint that by watching it with Lucas. I won’t.

Lucas slips his hand behind my neck and gently pulls my head towards his. ‘I think I can agree to those terms.’ After a few seconds of kissing, I forget about
Halloween
. After a couple of minutes, I forget about Kai.

We kiss until an angry bald man knocks on the
bay window of his living room and follows it up with a gesture I can only interpret as
Stop shoving your tongues down each other’s throats on my front wall
.

Lucas and I run away laughing, hand in hand, like a couple of naughty kids. Then we stop in an alleyway and do more kissing. I have a feeling there’s going to have to be a lot more kissing before this is over. And maybe some other stuff too.

And maybe I don’t mind.

Mum and Dad want to meet Lucas. I tried telling them it wasn’t going to happen – under any circumstances – but Dad’s coming over all Father-in-a-crap-American-sitcom. You know the ones . . . the daughter’s going to prom or whatever and her date arrives to pick her up. Dad answers the door and interrogates the poor boy while the daughter puts the finishing touches to her make-up upstairs. I have no idea whether this actually happens in real life.

I don’t like what I see in my parents’ eyes when they ask about Lucas. It’s worse with Mum, but I can see Dad feels it too, even though he’s making a show of being the gruff, over-protective father. It’s hope. I put hope in their eyes and soon I’m going to rip it away from them in the worst possible way.

They want me to invite him over for dinner next week. Mum gets all excited looking at recipe books
and asking about his likes and dislikes. I don’t tell her that I have no clue what he likes to eat and really could not care less. Instead I make stuff up: he likes meat and pasta and Chinese food, but isn’t too keen on fish or sweetcorn. Mum looks up from her latest cookbook acquisition – with some voluptuous woman on the front, all pouty and ridiculous. ‘You two must be a match made in heaven – liking all the same things! Actually, thinking about it, he’s probably pretending to like what you like. I remember when your father and I met I said I liked that awful music of his, and he said he enjoyed going to the ballet! Ah, the things we do for love . . .’

She’s staring into space, all misty-eyed. I’m staring at her, wondering how we can possibly be related. Noah barrels into the kitchen, looks from me to Mum and back again, says, ‘You two look weird,’ grabs an apple from the fruit bowl and runs out again.

I call Lucas and he thinks it’s just about the funniest thing in the world that my parents are so keen to meet him.

‘Sasha wouldn’t let me anywhere near her parents till we’d been going out for three months!’

The implication of this statement is enough to stop me in my tracks.

‘Jem? Are you still there?’

I clear my throat. ‘I . . . yeah.’

‘Are you OK? You sound a bit . . . I dunno.’

‘I’m fine. I . . . just . . . Is that what we’re doing? Going out?’

He laughs like he doesn’t even know the meaning of awkward. ‘What exactly did you think we were doing?’

I shrug before I realize how pointless that is. ‘Um . . . I didn’t . . . I thought we were just hanging out, I guess.’

‘
Hanging out, I guess?
Huh. Well how about we make this more formal? Jemima Halliday, would you like to go out with me?’ His voice is slick as olive oil.

I leave him hanging for a second longer than is comfortable. ‘OK.’

‘OK?! All I get after laying my heart on the line like that is an OK?!’ His mock outrage makes me wince.

‘Sorry. Yes, Lucas Mahoney, I would like to go out with you.’

‘That’s more like it.’

We talk some more – making arrangements for him to come over for dinner. I can’t get off the phone quick enough. When I do I throw the phone on the bed like
it’s
the one to blame for my current situation.

I am officially going out with Lucas Mahoney.

Lucas Mahoney is my boyfriend. I’m disgusted with myself. And more than a little bit impressed.

I’ve been counting down the days till the July letter. There’s no way I’m opening another one late.