Double Cross

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Double Cross Page 4

by Malorie Blackman


  Careful, Tobey . . .

  'I've never had any complaints,' I replied.

  Callie regarded me, a strange expression on her face before she turned away to trace the lightning-fork pattern on my duvet. 'Well, we're not all as easily pleased as Misty.'

  Misty? What on earth did this have to do with Misty? More to the point, what did it take to please Callie? Had Lucas already given her some idea about that? Our conversation was spiralling away from me dangerously. Nothing I said now would come out right, so better to say nothing.

  Callie stood up and headed for my desk. 'Let's see all this cool stuff you've come up with for our project then.'

  I tried to access the files on the memory stick, but the computer didn't even recognize that a memory stick was connected. After trying twice more, I tried to access it directly via the operating system. Weird symbols and hieroglyphics scrolled across my screen.

  'Tobey, where are my files?' Callie's voice was low, her question rhetorical. She could see as well as I could what had happened to her files.

  'This isn't my fault,' I said quickly. 'I only bought this thing last month. It's supposed to be state of the art.'

  'State of the another-word-beginning-with-A more like,' Callie said in disgust. 'Tobey, I really don't want to have to do all my sections again.'

  'Didn't you take a backup of your notes?' I said.

  'Not the latest version, no. I changed some stuff at school before loading it onto your memory stick, then I deleted the files afterwards. And what about all the film clips you added and the other stuff you said you did at school? Are they gone too?'

  I nodded. 'I'll just have to do it all again. Don't worry, it'll only take me a couple of hours.' I tried to reassure Callie, knowing full well I'd lost a lot more than two days' work. It would take ages to add all the graphics and re-edit all the film clips I'd included in our presentation. Godsake!

  'What happened to your memory key? Did you microwave it or something?'

  'Or something.' I pulled the wretched thing out of the USB port and scowled down at it.

  'Take it back to the shop you bought it from and get a refund,' said Callie.

  I nodded, not holding out much hope. I had no idea where I'd put the receipt. I returned the memory stick to my pocket, mightily cheesed off. Maybe the shop would exchange it without the receipt as I didn't want my money back.

  Callie headed back to my bed. 'Well, we can still carry on with the rest of our report. And I'll update my sections when I get back home.' She glanced at her watch as she sat down. 'If your sister is about to burst in on us, you'd better come over here and sit next to me. After all, you wouldn't want to disappoint her.'

  I did as requested. I sat so close that our arms and thighs were squashed against each other. I could feel Callie's body heat warming me through my clothes.

  'What d'you smell of ?' I asked, sniffing at her neck.

  'Why? Is it minging?' Callie sniffed at her wrist doubtfully. I suppose she had the same perfume I'd given her on her wrists as well. And of course she didn't reek. She smelled lovely.

  'You smell of biscuits,' I told her.

  Callie's eyebrows shot up. 'Thanks.'

  'That's a compliment.'

  Looking deeply unimpressed, Callie said, 'Tobey, a few words of advice. Don't tell Misty or any of your other girlfriends that they smell of biscuits. Tell them they smell of flowers, that they smell sexy, erotic, exotic, good enough to eat even, but not that they smell of biscuits.'

  'But I like biscuits,' I protested.

  'Is this another of your wind ups?' Callie said suspiciously.

  I grinned at her, deciding that no answer would be the best answer in this case. I really did love the way Callie smelled and she smelled of biscuits, but I suspected if I pressed the issue, she'd go home and flush the rest of my Crossmas present to her down the loo.

  Callie sighed and lay back on her elbows. I wished she wouldn't do that. It made her boobs stick out even more. Once again I had to force myself to concentrate on the area above Callie's shoulders.

  'Fancy watching a film once we've finished our homework?' Callie asked.

  I was instantly on my guard. 'What kind of film?'

  'Angie's Mystery is on at nine o'clock,' Callie suggested.

  'What's that?'

  'It's a contemporary social drama set in—'

  'Never mind where it's set. No.' The words 'social drama' were all I needed to hear to make up my mind on that one.

  'Or there's Lovelorn on at the same time on Channel—'

  'Hell, no! If it's got "love" in the title, I'm gone,' I told her straight. 'Can't we watch an action or a horror film?'

  'What if I told you Lovelorn is an action musical.'

  An action musical? Yeah, right.

  'Nice try!'

  Callie sighed. 'What's wrong with a romantic drama?'

  'Callie, I'm not watching some drippy film that's all angst and sickly sweet sentimentality so you can sit there sighing and sniffing next to me,' I said. 'No way.'

  'There's nothing wrong with the odd cathartic cry,'

  Callie informed me. 'I learned that when Nana Jasmine died.'

  'Well, I wouldn't know,' I replied.

  Callie tilted her head as she regarded me. 'No, you wouldn't,' she agreed. 'Didn't you cry when your dad left?'

  'Nope.' I wasn't going to cry over that. It wasn't like he hadn't run out on us before. And if he ever came back, he was bound to do a runner again. Crying over him would be like crying because the sun rose each morning.

  'When was the last time you cried?' Callie asked with a frown.

  'Years and years ago,' I said truthfully.

  'There's nothing wrong with crying. Sometimes it's the only thing that makes things better.'

  'I'm not even sure I know how any more.' Crying wasn't me. 'Can we change the subject please?'

  Callie sighed, but did as I asked. 'So what d'you reckon your sister's excuse for bursting in on us will be this time?'

  I shrugged. 'Who knows? Getting back one of her magazines?'

  'Hunting down her college homework?' said Callie.

  Like I'd keep any of her wigs or hairdressing stuff in my room. Jess went to hairdressing college just one day a week, but the stuff she brought home was pushing me and Mum out of the house.

  'How about checking up on Cuddles, my pet snake . . . ?' I suggested.

  'Despite the fact that Cuddles died over five years ago,' Callie pointed out wryly.

  'Ah, but Jessica can commune with friendly spirits,' I reminded her. 'Snakes included.'

  'Your sister is a woman of many talents.'

  'If only that included minding her own—'

  The door was flung open, its hinges protesting with a severe creak.

  'I hope I'm not disturbing you two. Did you call me, Callie?' said Jessica. 'I thought I heard you call me.'

  Callie and I exchanged a look. I didn't even have to glance down at my watch.

  'I win,' I said softly.

  'I did call you actually,' said Callie. 'I'm just about to make mad, passionate love to your brother and I wondered if you'd like to watch?'

  'Ugh! Callie, I thought you had better taste.' Jessica's face contorted at the thought.

  'Nope. I love the way Tobey and I get down and dirty. Watch us, Jessica. You might learn something.'

  Callie pulled at the back of my T-shirt, almost strangling me in the process. I fell backwards before my Adam's apple was cut in two. Callie pounced. That's the only word for it. She pounced. Before I could blink, her lips were on mine and her tongue was darting into my mouth. And damn, it felt good. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her closer.

  'That is so gross.' Jessica's voice barely registered. 'I'm outta here. You two have moved beyond sad into pitiful.'

  I was vaguely aware of my bedroom door being slammed shut, but I didn't care. I pulled Callie closer still. Blood was rushing round my body, then to one particular part of my body. Callie smelled good,
tasted great and felt even better. It took a few seconds to realize that Callie was trying to push away from me. I reluctantly let her go.

  'We can stop now,' Callie told me, her warm breath fanning over my face. 'Your sister has gone.'

  Sod my sister.

  'Let's hope that cures her of her nosiness. For some reason Jessica didn't fancy the idea of watching you get your leg over.' Callie laughed.

  'Godsake, Callie. Even I'm grossed out by that idea.' My lips twisted at the thought.

  Callie sat up abruptly. Her smile had vanished. 'Making love with me would gross you out? Thanks a lot.'

  I stared at her, then sat up myself. 'I meant . . . that's not what I meant. I meant about my sister being present.'

  Callie's head tilted to one side. 'It's OK, Tobey. I get it. I'm not Misty.'

  Was she nuts?

  'I don't want you to be Misty. God forbid.'

  Callie shrugged. She dug into her school rucksack and took out a couple of books. I sighed inwardly. She didn't believe me. Or was she winding me up as payback for earlier? Because if so, she was doing a first-class job. Usually I was streets ahead of her when it came to teasing, but over the last few months, the scales had been tipping in the other direction. She got to me like no one else.

  'Callie, there's nothing going on between me and Misty,' I said.

  'If you say so.' Callie still didn't look me in the eye.

  'I do. And it means a lot to me that you believe that.'

  'Why?'

  'It just does,' I said, trying and failing to keep the impatience out of my voice. 'OK?'

  'OK,' replied Callie. 'Ready to work on our school project now?'

  Well, if she wanted to concentrate on homework, then I could too. Two could play that game.

  'Now, about the Second World War – what point of view d'you want to write our newspaper article from? The POV of us winners or the losers?' Callie asked.

  'I don't mind,' I said. 'You choose.'

  'Which is what you always say whenever I ask you to make a decision,' said Callie, the faintest trace of irritation creeping into her voice. 'If you made an actual decision for yourself, would you get a nosebleed, or maybe a brain aneurysm?'

  'What's wrong now?' I asked, exasperated.

  Callie contemplated me, her head tilting to one side again. 'Tobey, what are we? Apart from uncomplicated?'

  'We're friends,' I replied at once. 'We're good friends. Aren't we?' What was Callie getting at?

  Callie nodded. 'I guess so.'

  'Don't you know?'

  'I'm waiting for you to figure it out, so you can tell me,' said Callie.

  'What does that mean?'

  'I'm waiting for you to figure that one out as well.' Callie smiled. 'Let's get on with our homework.'

  Sometimes I don't understand Callie. At all.

  I'm a reasonably smart guy, but I just don't get her.

  Damn, but she's complicated.

  five. Callie

  Sometimes I don't understand Tobey. At all.

  He's the smartest guy I know, but he just doesn't get it.

  Damn, but he's dense.

  six. Tobey

  'Tobey, you still haven't told me about your careers meeting. How did it go?' asked Mum.

  'Fine.' I grinned, putting down my glass of orange juice. 'Mrs Paxton was really encouraging. She reckons any university in the country will take me with the grades I can achieve if I don't let my work slip. And she's personally going to write my university reference.'

  Mum smiled faintly at my enthusiasm, but I couldn't help it. Both Mrs Paxton, our head, and Mr Brooking, the school careers advisor, had basically told me that the world was mine, as long as I was prepared to keep working for it. It didn't matter what Dan and some of my friends outside of school said: I was going to go to university. Every time I thought of my future, it made me smile. And nothing and no one was going to hold me back or even break my stride.

  My family were all sitting down having breakfast together, which was kind of rare as Mum's a nurse at Mercy Community Hospital, so she worked shifts. Jessica was still half asleep and picking at her fried egg and bacon. My plate was almost empty and I was eyeing Jessica's egg. If she wasn't going to eat it then I had room left in my stomach, as long as the egg wasn't cold. But if I took too much interest in Jess's breakfast, she'd gobble it up and swallow it down just to spite me.

  'Mum, it's actually going to happen.' My smile widened.

  'Hopefully,' said Mum.

  'Not hopefully. It's gonna happen,' I amended. 'I'm going to university.'

  Mum just shrugged.

  'To do what?' asked Jessica.

  'Something that'll make me a lot of money like an Economics or a Maths degree or maybe Business Studies with Information Technology,' I replied.

  'That'll make you money?' Jessica said sceptically.

  'Working with money makes money,' I said. 'Everyone knows that.'

  'Don't you want to do a degree because you're interested in the subject rather than for the money you'll make at the end of it?' asked Jess.

  'I'm being practical.'

  'What would you do if you didn't have to worry about a job at the end of it?' my sister asked.

  'I dunno.' I'd never really thought about that as it wasn't going to happen. 'Maybe Politics or Law. Something like that.'

  'Tobey, don't set your heart on university,' Mum said gently. 'I can't afford three or four years' worth of fees, not on top of what I have to fork out to Jessica's college. I just don't have the money.'

  'I know, Mum. Don't worry, I've got it all worked out. I'll take out a student loan to cover the tuition fees. And I'll start saving the money I earn from every holiday job I have from now on.'

  'It's not just tuition fees,' Mum warned. 'You'll have to pay rent and bills and buy books and food.'

  'University is for the rich or those prepared to be in debt until they're middle-aged. It's just another way of keeping us Noughts down,' Jess added.

  'Isn't it more of a poor-versus-rich thing?' I frowned.

  'Please,' Mum groaned. 'No politics at the breakfast table. It's too early.'

  Going to university had always struck me as more of a social class thing than a race thing. As long as I wasn't going to one of those snooty, snotty 'historical' universities where they interviewed you first to ascertain your family's bank balance and social standing, what was the problem? If I got good grades in my end-of-school exams and I paid the tuition fees, surely that was enough for most universities and they wouldn't care that I was white? Mrs Paxton reckoned I had the right stuff to get into any university in the country. So, enough. I wasn't going to give voice to my doubts or argue the point. I was in too much of a good mood.

  'Jess has a point, though,' said Mum. 'I mean, is that what you really want? To be in debt until your hair turns grey?'

  'That's why, after university, I'm going to get a job that makes a lot of money so I can pay off the loan faster,' I said.

  My good mood was rapidly evaporating. Mum and Jessica were only trying to make sure that I knew what I was letting myself in for, but they were both beginning to jump up and down on my nerves.

  'Why d'you want to go to university anyway?' Jessica sniffed.

  'Because I can,' I snapped. 'Because less than twenty years ago, a Nought going to university was unheard of, unless they were super rich. Because that door is open and all I have to do is walk through it.'

  'For all the good it'll do you,' Jessica muttered.

  'And that right there is why you'll be doing the same job in the same place for the same wage in thirty years' time.' I glared at her. 'Your attitude is why you'll always fail.'

  'Thanks a lot,' Jess said indignantly.

  'Does the truth hurt?' I asked with just a modicum of spite.

  'Tobey, that's enough,' Mum admonished me.

  'She started it,' I said childishly.

  I sipped at my coffee, glaring at my sister. She gave as good as she got.

&n
bsp; 'So, Jess, how's college?' Mum asked, trying to draw her attention.

  'Too much writing,' said Jess. 'Why on earth do I have to write essays on hair textures and nutrition and the structure of hair follicles? I want to cut and style hair, not lecture on it.'

  'You do get to cut hair as well though, don't you?' Mum sounded worried.

  Jessica wasn't keen on writing. Never had been.

  'Yeah, but not enough,' my sister sighed. 'The four essays we had to do this year plus my exam next week count for sixty per cent of the total end-of-year mark.' Her eyes clouded over. Something was wrong . . .

  'How d'you get the other forty per cent?' I asked.

  'Practical work at my work placement and one practical assignment in front of my tutor,' said Jess.

  'What's the pass mark for this year then?' I frowned.

  'Seventy per cent.'

  'And what happens if you fail?' I asked.

  'She leaves college and gets a full-time job,' Mum answered before Jessica had the chance.

  'They let you redo the year again as long as you pay the fees,' Jessica said, studying the peeling and chipped veneer on our table.

  'No, Jess. If you fail this year, no more college,' said Mum sternly.

  'How many of this year's essays have you done?' I asked.

  'What is this? Some kind of inquisition?' Jessica exploded. 'I've done my essays. OK? I really want to be a hairdresser. I'm not about to mess that up.'

  'Well, excuse me whilst I just run round the kitchen after my head.' I scowled. 'I was only asking.'

  'When's your final exam, Jessica?' asked Mum, casting me a warning look.

  'Next Thursday,' Jess replied, moderating her tone only slightly.

  Mum glared at me. I got the message.

  'I'm sorry, Jess,' I said reluctantly. I hated saying sorry to my sister. 'I didn't mean to upset you.'

  Jessica shook her head slowly. 'It's all right for you, Tobey. You've never failed at anything in your life. God help you the first time you do fail, because you won't be able to handle it.'

  'Then I won't fail.' I shrugged.

  'And it's that simple, is it?'

  'Yeah.'

 

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