As I clambered off the roof I eased my conscience with the thought that when Chloe finally came home, I would tell her how I’d covered for her – and demand that she stopped sneaking out.
Mum hugged me. “Thanks, sweetheart,” she said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Feeling guilty, I jogged off down the road.
It was five past ten when I arrived at the gallery. There was no sign of Eve outside, so I went in and had a quick look round. It was a small building with just three rooms full of pictures and posters and a bored-looking woman at the front desk. There was no one else there. I sat outside on the steps for a while, staring up at the advertisement for the exhibition. Faces of the Eighties.
By eleven o’clock the exhibition had had fewer than five visitors and there was still no sign of Eve. I was hungry and freezing and trying not to listen to the voice in my head which kept telling me she wasn’t coming. I decided that as long as I was here, I might as well go inside and look at the posters.
The woman at the front desk was reading a magazine. She didn’t look up as I went through to the first room. I wandered from picture to picture, looking at the faces with their weird hair and old-fashioned clothes. I grinned as I walked past a picture of a man naked to the waist, holding a baby. A pair of old ladies – the only other people in the building at the moment – had been standing in front of it for several minutes, tutting about how disgusting it was that he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
I stopped in front of a poster of a mini-skirted woman with straggly blonde hair. The caption underneath said: Deborah Harry, lead singer with the band, Blondie. I vaguely remembered one of Dad’s records was by Blondie. The woman was hot. Massively.
I stared at her, wondering if my dad had ever fancied her.
“You can put your tongue away,” said a soft, raspy voice in my ear. “She’s about a hundred now.”
I spun round. Eve was standing behind me, her lips curled in a mocking smile.
My stomach did several somersaults in quick succession. I could feel my face reddening. Eve’s smile broadened with delight at my embarrassment.
“Come on, there’s something I want to show you,” she said.
She grabbed my arm and dragged me into the next room. I was still in a state of total confusion when she stopped at a picture halfway down the wall. It showed the face of another blonde woman, this time on the cover of a magazine – I didn’t notice the title. I stared at the woman. Her pale blue eyes looked coyly up out of the picture through thick, black lashes.
I knew immediately who she was.
“She’s beautiful,” I said.
“That’s my mum,” Eve said, proudly. “When she was twenty-one. I wish I looked like her.”
I glanced at her. “You do,” I said.
Eve flushed slightly, but didn’t say anything. We walked together round the whole exhibition. Neither of us mentioned the fact that we both knew it wasn’t closing at midday. Eve knew loads about some of the pictures – she’d already been round last week with her mum. It crossed my mind to ask Eve why she was here again, but she soon supplied the answer herself.
She loved the exhibition.
We walked round slowly, Eve chattering away, her eyes shining. Most of what she said about the pictures wasn’t very interesting, to be honest. But I tried hard to listen. Or, at least, to look as if I was listening. It was difficult not to be distracted by her face, especially when her lips stretched into that slow, sexy smile of hers.
At last we came to the final picture. And then there was nothing else to do except leave. We strolled out to the front desk.
There was an awkward silence.
“I’ve got to meet my mum,” Eve said. “I was supposed to be shopping with her all morning. I had to make an excuse to come here.”
She looked at me. I tried to work out whether there was some kind of hidden message in what she was saying.
“Ben’s away all half-term on some football trip,” she said.
Oh, good, let’s talk about Ben again.
“Right,” I said, determined to turn the subject away from her stupid boyfriend. “Chloe’s grounded all half-term. It’s her third week, she’s going mental with it. I think she’s even sneaking out of the house.”
But Eve didn’t seem to want to talk about Chloe any more than I wanted to talk about Ben.
We walked outside onto the pavement. We were on a side road off the high street. Where the two roads met, about thirty metres away, traffic was zooming past. It filled our silence with a noisy hum.
“Well I guess I’d better get off and meet my mum,” Eve said, again. She was staring at me, as if waiting for something. I started to panic. Jesus, what was she expecting me to do now?
Ask for her phone number?
Surely not, after she just mentioned Ben.
Ask her if she wants to go for a coffee?
No, you idiot, she’s already said she’s got to meet her mum.
What about seeing her later?
Suppose she flips out again and runs off? No. Get a grip. Be cool.
“This was fun,” I said, playing for time. “Interesting.”
She smiled. “Yeah, Ben would have hated it.”
My face fell. Great. Back to bloody Ben again.
“I mean I’m glad I was here with you.” Eve moved the tiniest bit closer to me. She kept her eyes fixed on mine, then she tilted her head back slightly.
A thrill of anticipation tingled down my spine. I suddenly knew exactly what she was waiting for me to do.
I moved closer to her. Her pale eyes were all I could see. The art gallery, the traffic sounds from the high street, the people passing by . . . They all fell away.
I moved even closer.
When she spoke I could feel her breath on my mouth.
“I shouldn’t do this,” she whispered.
Our lips were so close they were almost touching.
“I know,” I murmured.
I closed my eyes and the whole world exploded in my head.
I pulled away, shivering.
Eve was still standing there, her eyes shut.
She drew in a tiny breath, like a soft whispery gasp.
It was about the sexiest thing I’d ever heard in my life.
She opened her eyes and drew back. A look of confusion crossed her face.
I was desperate to kiss her again. But I wasn’t going to have her run out on me a second time, like she had in the art room.
“See you then,” I said.
Before she could reply I’d turned and walked away, praying my legs would hold me up until I got round the corner and out of sight.
11
Lunch party
I’ll be the ticket if you’re my collector
I’ve got the fare if you’re my inspector
I’ll be the luggage, if you’ll be the porter
I’ll be the parcel if you’ll be my sorter
‘Love Song’
The Damned
I walked halfway up the high street in a blissful, sexed-up daze. All I wanted to do was relive that kiss. How Eve had looked at me. How her mouth had felt. How she’d tasted.
All that stuff about Ben – how she’d gone on about him being away. None of that mattered. She’d kissed me. She’d wanted to kiss me.
I stopped, a sudden realisation hitting me like a bucket of cold water. How could I have been so stupid? Telling me Ben was away this week was obviously Eve’s way of saying I could see her again before he got back. And I’d walked away without even asking for her phone number. I groaned out loud. It was all Ryan’s fault with his stupid Steps. “Get an Angle.” “Be aloof.”
Be aloof, my arse.
Why the hell hadn’t I asked if I could call her? I hadn’t even had her stupid friends watching me this time, and I’d still managed to blow it. Of course, Chloe probably had Eve’s number, but unless I could sneak a look at her mobile (which Chloe practically slept with) there was no way I would find it.
And even then . . . oh crap . . . Eve would think I was such an idiot . . . and Ben would get back and my chance would be over.
It’s strange. A week ago, just imagining an actual kiss would have kept me going for days. But now, with my brain reeling from my own stupidity, it felt like having one sip of drink when you’re dying of thirst. Amazing. But not enough. Nowhere near enough.
Chloe was curled up on the living-room sofa when I got home. She looked tired – there were dark rings under her eyes and her face was pale. I remembered how she hadn’t been in her room earlier and felt a twinge of curiosity about where she had been. And then I had an idea.
“Must be boring not being allowed out,” I said, flinging myself down in Dad’s armchair.
She looked at me sulkily. “Piss off,” she said.
God, why did she have to be such a moody cow? I pushed myself up, crossed the room and closed the door in case Mum was anywhere nearby. Then I turned on Chloe. “If I were you I’d start being a bit nicer to me. You owe me big time.”
Chloe glanced up at me, irritatingly uninterested. “What are you talking about?”
I told her.
“I can’t believe Mum set you to spy on me like that,” Chloe said.
“Never mind that. Where the hell were you?”
Chloe shrugged. “Out. Just seeing some friends.”
“Well, you gotta stop. Next time she’ll get Matt to go up there and have a look.” I paused. “Why don’t you ask your friends to come round here?”
Chloe raised her eyebrows. “Anyone in particular?”
“No,” I said, quickly. What did she mean? Did she know about Eve? No, how could she? I must be imagining it. “I just thought it might be a good idea.”
Chloe shrugged again. “Whatever. Anyway, thanks for not grassing me up.”
Chloe said nothing for the rest of the day, but the following morning she was downstairs before ten o’clock, a list in her hand.
She shoved the list across the kitchen table to Mum. “I’ve invited some friends round for lunch,” she snapped. “And we need some food for it, which you’ll have to get because I’m not allowed out.”
Mum’s face clenched up and went red. “How dare you assume you can just—?”
“It’s OK, Mum.” I jumped up and grabbed the list. “I’ll get the food.”
They both looked at me, astonished. I shrugged. “I was going out anyway,” I lied.
Mum was still pretty annoyed with Chloe for having invited her friends round without checking first. And she spent a good ten minutes insisting that Chloe didn’t need both Hawaiian and pepperoni pizzas, but eventually she gave me some money and I escaped into the fresh air. A warm breeze drifted across my face. It felt like the first day of spring.
I did the shopping as quickly as I could, wondering the whole time how I could find out if Chloe had invited Eve.
“Luke – you got completely the wrong type of pizza,” Chloe moaned from the kitchen. “And the salad’s past its sell-by date.”
It was twelve-thirty and, typically, Chloe had only just arrived downstairs to start sorting out her lunch stuff.
Mum winked at me. “I’m sure Luke did his best,” she called out. We were in the living room. I still hadn’t managed to discover if Eve was coming, and I was trying to keep my mind off the subject by watching TV. I’d decided that if she did turn up, my best bet was to be cool and relaxed, but to drop some hint about where I’d be hanging out tomorrow.
The doorbell went. I got up. “I’ll get it.”
Two of Chloe’s classmates stood on the steps. They were deep in conversation and barely muttered a “hello” as they passed. Five minutes later another friend turned up and ten minutes after that, a fourth.
Crap. That had to be it. Chloe’d only bought four pizzas, after all. Then the door sounded again. Mum was in the hall. I heard her open the door. “Hello, Eve,” she said. “Don’t you look nice.”
I went out into the hall as Mum stepped back to let Eve in.
My breath caught in my throat as I looked at her.
Yesterday, I hadn’t noticed what Eve was wearing. Just a long, shapeless jacket, zipped up to the neck, I think. There couldn’t have been a greater contrast with what she had on now.
High-heeled, knee-length boots, a short skirt and a very clingy blue jumper. Her hair was all sleek and shiny and tied back in a ponytail which snaked round onto her shoulders. She caught my eye and smiled.
“Hi, Luke,” she said. She sashayed past me down the hall and into the kitchen. I turned and watched her, my mouth open.
“For goodness’ sake, Luke,” Mum hissed, prodding me in the ribs as she passed.
I staggered back into the living room. All thoughts of playing it cool vanished. I didn’t care if I ended up looking a total prat. I had to get Eve on her own again. Today. I couldn’t see anything beyond that.
I sat down and forced myself to work out what I should do. Eve wouldn’t be here for long. An hour maybe, if I was lucky. She’d arrived later than everyone else. For all I knew she was about to dash off to meet her mum again.
But I could hardly go up to her surrounded by Chloe and all their friends. I strode back into the hall, to where Chloe’s army of handbags lay in a messy cluster at the bottom of the stairs. I rummaged through them, trying to find Chloe’s phone.
I knew that if Chloe caught me I would never hear the end of it.
I didn’t care.
No sign of the bloody mobile. Course not. Chloe always carried it with her. It must be in the kitchen. Praying that Chloe wasn’t wearing anything with pockets, I marched straight in there. I could feel six pairs of eyes follow me across the room to the counter where Chloe had been preparing the pizzas and salad.
“What do you want?” Chloe said.
I looked round, determined not to look directly at Eve.
“I’m hungry,” I said.
Chloe nodded and turned away. I could feel Eve at the other end of the table. I knew she was looking at me. With a massive effort I turned back to the counter and looked up and down. Yes. Chloe’s phone was sitting next to the plate of cooked pizza slices. In one swift move I grabbed the phone, laid a slice of pizza on top of it, and left.
I raced up to my room, already clicking through Chloe’s address book. E. Eve. There. I reached for my own phone and tapped in the number. I stood there, my thumb hovering over the buttons. What the hell was I going to say?
There was no time to make it look clever or mature or any of the things Ryan was always banging on about. I took a deep breath.
i hv 2 c u. Smll pnd. Waterlow Park. Luke.
Without even reading it over I pressed “send”. Recklessness thrilled through me – quickly followed by a swamping feeling of dread.
I raced downstairs, then darted into the kitchen to put Chloe’s phone back. I kept my head down the whole time, but I could see Eve was turned away from the others, bending over her phone.
I walked straight out and went to the park. I headed for the small pond. It must have rained in the night – the grass was soggy under my tramping feet. But the air was warm – like it had been earlier – and the sun beat down on my face as I walked along the pond’s squelchy banks.
If she came, it meant she was interested.
If she came it meant she wanted me to ask her out.
I stopped.
If she came, maybe it just meant she was going to tell me to stop pestering her.
I turned round and saw her, picking her way across the muddy grass towards me. She looked cross. Irritated. Crap. I gritted my teeth. OK, if I had to hear that she didn’t want me, better to hear it now. Get it over with.
She stopped about two metres away from me and scowled.
“This mud’s ruining my boots,” she said. “I only got them yesterday.”
And then she smiled, this warm, deep, gorgeously sexy smile. “D’you mind if we get off the grass?”
12
Lessons in love
Hand
in glove
The sun shines out of our behinds
No, it’s not like any other love
This one is different – because it’s us.
‘Hand In Glove’
The Smiths
We walked along the gravel path, holding hands. The part of the park I’d chosen to meet Eve in was the most secluded bit, and I had no intention of moving away from it, even if that meant we wandered in circles for hours.
Eve talked about her art project again. I tried to listen to her, like Ryan had said I should. I really did. But my mind was in about three places at once. And none of them had anything to do with collage materials. She was just so unbelievably sexy. And I wasn’t the only one who thought so. I noticed several guys among the few people we passed checking her out and then throwing me envious glances.
At last we sat down on a bench and I leaned into her.
After a couple of minutes’ snogging she pushed me gently away.
“What is it?” I said.
Eve bit her lip. The skin round her mouth was red. She touched it gingerly. “You’re a bit rough,” she said. “It feels like you’re vacuuming the inside of my mouth.”
I could feel my whole body shrink right down inside my clothes. “Oh,” I said, now painfully aware of my neck and face burning red. “Sorry.”
I looked down at the grass.
“It’s OK,” Eve said. “Just relax.”
We started again. This time I tried to focus more on what she was doing. To match what I did with what she did.
“Mmmn,” Eve said when we stopped. “That was better.”
My confidence lifted. I stared at her very seriously. “You know I still need a lot of practice.”
She laughed.
The sound trickled through me like honey, soothing away my remaining anxieties.
This was it. I’d done it. Steps One to Five. Sorted.
As I leaned back in for another kiss, I wondered vaguely what Step Six was. Whatever it was, I obviously didn’t need it.
The sexiest, most beautiful, most amazing girl I had ever met wanted to snog me.
Me.
Six Steps to a Girl Page 7
