Girl Heart Boy: No Such Thing as Forever (Book 1)

by Ali Cronin

  My bag was leaning against the bottom step. I found my phone and felt a little stab of hope as I brought it to life. Three texts. My heart thumping, I opened my Messages box. One was from Mum, saying she’d see me tonight, one was from Donna, and one was from Ollie wanting to know how I was. I hadn’t really expected anything different, but still. I sighed and wandered into the kitchen. I wanted to eat something, but nothing appealed. There was a can of Diet Coke in the fridge, but it felt wrong taking the only one. I took a couple of Hobnobs from the biscuit jar, picked up my bag and opened the front door. I didn’t want to go to school and face everyone. I didn’t really want to do anything except sleep. I felt like shit, and not just from the booze. I slapped my own face. For God’s sake, woman, pull yourself together. With a shake of my shoulders, which did nothing at all to make me feel better, I shut the door behind me and started trudging in the direction of school.

  I was concentrating so hard on not giving in to the nausea that was once again washing over me that I didn’t hear my phone ringing until it was almost too late. I grabbed it on the final ring and, without looking to see who it was, pressed the button to answer.

  ‘’lo?’

  ‘All right?’

  I almost dropped the phone. A wave of happiness, confusion and a fleetingly urgent need to be sick struck me dumb.

  ‘Er, Sarah, you there?’

  ‘Yeah. Sorry. Just dropped my phone.’ I waited for him to speak. I’d practised this moment enough times to know I had to let Joe do the talking.

  ‘So. How’s it going?’ He sounded completely normal. As if Sunday afternoon at the station had never happened.

  ‘Not bad, thanks. Bit of a hangover.’ I kept my voice even.

  ‘Bummer. Anyway. Me and the boys are coming to Brighton this weekend. Will’s having a house party at his parents’ house.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ (Keep it slow, Sarah, I told myself. Don’t get excited.)

  ‘So. D’you want to come?’ He lowered his voice. ‘I’ve been thinking about you.’

  My stomach flipped, this time not from the hangover. Every fibre of my being was screaming at me to say I’d go, but instead I screwed up my eyes and said, ‘Ah, damn, I’m supposed to be going out with my friends this weekend.’

  ‘Bring them too. More the merrier,’ said Joe breezily.

  ‘Uh. Yeah, OK.’ It was the best I could do in my current state.

  ‘Cool. I’ll text you the details. See you then, Sarah Doesn’t-like-beer.’ And my phone beeped to tell me he’d ended the call. I stared at it for a second. Looked like I was seeing Joe this weekend then.

  I was going to see Joe! I did a little jump, and instantly regretted it when the Hobnobs threatened to reappear. Suddenly my headache was just the price I was paying for a top night out, and the low, grey clouds were lined with silver. I walked the rest of the way to school with as much spring in my step as a Calvados hangover would allow.

  8

  Donna came in slightly late to tutor group and pretty much strutted to her seat. I’d been waiting for her to arrive before asking everyone to come to the party on Saturday, but from the smug look on her face I guessed she was going to pip me to the post on the news front.

  ‘You’re looking pleased with yourself,’ said Rich. ‘Got something you want to tell us?’

  Ashley rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t encourage her, Richard.’

  ‘I have, actually,’ said Donna, giving Ashley the old scratch-cheek-with-middle-finger manoeuvre. She rummaged in her bag, pulled out an envelope and wafted it like a flag. ‘Free tickets to a Bombay Bicycle Club gig, anyone?’

  Jack frowned. ‘Never heard of them.’

  ‘That’s not the point, is it?’ she replied, shaking her head pityingly. ‘It’s a free night out.’ She eyed us all. ‘Who’s in?’

  ‘When is it?’ asked Cass.

  Donna sighed as if we were spoiling everything with our pointless questions. ‘Saturday? When we were all going to get together anyway? Come on, people – it’s free!’

  This Saturday? ‘Oh no, that’s Joe’s party!’ I bit my lip. ‘I was just about to tell you about it. He phoned this morning and invited us all to his friend Will’s party. It’s here in Brighton …’ There was an awkward silence.

  ‘Free tickets, hon,’ said Cass pleadingly. ‘That doesn’t happen every day. Can’t you see Joe next weekend?’

  ‘Not really,’ I said, trying not to sound sulky. ‘It’s not that easy for us, is it?’

  ‘We’ll come out next time, babes. Promise,’ said Rich, and Ollie and Jack chipped in with much the same.

  ‘My dad’ll be gutted if we don’t use the tickets,’ added Donna, finally. ‘He was well excited that his client had given them to him.’

  (I’d never been sure what Donna’s dad did for a living, and now it was too late into our friendship to ask. Something to do with cars, maybe? I really had no idea.)

  ‘Oh look, I’ll go with you, Sar,’ said Ashley, making everyone turn wide eyes on her as if she’d just admitted to being secretly male or something.

  I blinked with disbelief. ‘Really? Are you sure?’

  There was a slight pause – long enough for my heart to start sinking. I so didn’t want to turn up at a party full of strangers on my own. But then she said: ‘Yeah. I like Bombay Bicycle Club, but I suppose I feel bad about not being there for you last night …’ She smirked. ‘Can’t miss out on another opportunity of seeing Drunken Sarah in action, can I?’

  ‘Ugh. Never again,’ I said, wincing. ‘But thank you, you’re brilliant.’

  She shrugged. ‘I know … And I suppose there’s also a slight possibility that I want to meet this Joe dude.’

  I smiled gratefully. ‘Cheers, Ash.’

  So on Saturday evening, while everyone else went to the gig, Ashley came round and sat on my bed while I agonized over what to wear.

  ‘Oh God, I have nothing,’ I wailed, sitting cross-legged in bra and knickers in a sea of jeans, tops and skirts.

  ‘Yeah, you do. What about that?’ Ashley pointed towards a Seventies-style denim skirt I’d bought a few months before and never worn. I shook my head.

  ‘Makes me look like a librarian.’

  She swung her fishnets-and-biker-boot-clad legs. ‘Not if you wear it with, like, wedges and an ironic blouse.’

  ‘An ironic blouse?’ I gaped in disbelief. ‘And I don’t own any bloody wedges.’

  ‘OK then, let’s start with the shoes.’ Ash sat up. ‘What do you have?’

  I looked around me. ‘Converse, flip-flops, knee boots, ballet pumps and those.’ I pointed at a vile pair of lilac satin stilettos I’d had to wear last year as a bridesmaid at my cousin’s wedding.

  Ash frowned. ‘Yeah, no. It’s not a great list, is it?’

  How helpful. This was ridiculous. I was going to a student’s house party, not the bloody Oscars. I pulled on my favourite skinny jeans and a floaty tunic top from Zara, then stepped into my newest ballet pumps. ‘Done.’ I stood with my hand on my hip and glared at Ash.

  ‘All right, scary pants,’ she laughed. ‘Good choice. You look lovely. Can we go now?’

  We walked to the pub where Joe had said they were all meeting. Ashley strode ahead while I lagged behind, feeling nervous. ‘C’mon, keep up,’ Ash called behind her. ‘Or they’ll have gone by the time we get there.’ I trotted beside her.

  ‘Aren’t you scared of all those new people?’ I asked.

  Ash glanced at me. ‘No.’

  ‘How’d you do it?’ I really wanted to know.

  She shrugged. ‘Pretend. They don’t know you’re cacking yourself, so pretend you’re not … It’s how my mum does it when she has to sell five-grand wedding dresses to rich people. She says at the beginning she was so in awe of their, like, Porsches and manicures and Chanel handbags that she could hardly talk to them. But now they assume she’s as rich as they are.’

  I mused on that one. It had never occurred to me that Ash was anything other than natural
ly sociable.

  ‘Course, it helps if you’re a bit pissed,’ added Ashley.

  Oh. ‘I’m not going down that road again.’ My mouth twisted with memory nausea. Ash nudged me affectionately.

  ‘Aw, Sarah, you’re such an amateur … It’s cute, really.’

  I harrumphed and said nothing. Cute was not something I aspired to.

  ‘Bugger.’ Ash stopped in her tracks as we approached the pub. ‘They’re checking ID.’

  My heart sank. ‘Do you have any?’

  ‘Always. Do you?’ But she already knew the answer. ‘Look, just work out your date of birth before you get there and tell them you left your wallet at home. It’ll be fine.’

  I wasn’t convinced. I have a fresh-faced thing going on, and I don’t wear much make-up. Ash probably didn’t need ID, with her smudgy eyes and crazy dyed hair. But I was pretty sure I would. We stood a bit straighter and marched up to the door.

  ‘All right, ladies,’ said the black-clad bouncer. ‘Can I see your ID please?’

  Ashley showed her skilfully faked Brighton Uni card and was waved through. I tossed my hair and imagined I was Joe’s bitchy friend Mimi. ‘Oh God, I left mine at home,’ I rah’ed. Apparently eighteen-year-old me is posh. Who knew? ‘Look, I’m five oh-one ninety-three,’ I said. ‘I’m nearly nineteen, for goodness’ sake!’ I laughed in what I hoped was a relaxed and mature manner.

  The bouncer shook his head. ‘Sorry, no ID: no entry.’ And that was that. He had already moved on to the person behind me. Ash squeezed past the successfully ID’d people who were now breezily entering the pub and came back out to join me in pariah land.

  ‘What do we do now?’ I said, pacing up and down the pavement.

  ‘No need to panic,’ said Ash smoothly. ‘Just text Joe to say we’re running late and ask for his friend’s address.’

  I nodded manically. ‘Oh, good idea, I’ll do that.’ Ash shook her head in despair at my total lack of cool and sat on the kerb, patting the space beside her. I sat down and sent the text. Coincidentally I heard someone in the group of people who’d just left the pub get a text at the same time. Shit! I grabbed Ash’s wrist. ‘Look down!’ I hissed. ‘It’s him.’

  Ash craned her neck. ‘Where?’

  I almost cried. ‘Please look down, Ash,’ I whispered. ‘He’ll know we got ID’d if he sees us here.’ I didn’t care so much if Joe knew, but what if his bitchy friends were there? They’d think it was hilarious, and I couldn’t bear that.

  ‘All right, all right,’ hissed Ashley back at me. She peered up through her fringe. ‘Which one’s Joe?’

  ‘Suede jacket,’ I replied through gritted teeth. ‘Light brown hair.’

  ‘Nice arse,’ she said, appreciatively. ‘Anyway, they’ve gone now. You can come out of hiding.’

  I slowly looked up to see the tail end of his group turning a corner ahead of us. I closed my eyes and slowly exhaled. What the hell was happening to me?

  ‘You all right, babes?’ Ash looked concerned, and slightly amused.

  I slapped my knees and stood up. ‘Yes, thank you, fine now.’ I held up my phone. ‘I’ve got the address. Let’s go.’

  It was a short walk to Will’s parents’ place. It was in a leafy avenue of big, expensive houses, and not at all like my idea of a student house.

  ‘This is it.’

  We stopped outside a huge, white-painted three-storey Victorian place. It was like something out of Mary Poppins. Ash gazed in awe, finally murmuring, ‘Spoonful of sugar or what?’

  I looked at her and laughed. ‘I was thinking the exact same thing.’

  She hooked her arm through mine. ‘C’mon then, let’s go and violate Mr Banks.’ I made retching noises and we ran, giggling, up the front steps.

  It was heaving. There were people everywhere: sitting on the stairs, lounging against the walls, dancing around the living room, sitting around a dark wooden table in the dining room, leaning against the worktops in the kitchen. Everyone was drinking and loads of people were smoking. I wondered what Will’s parents would think about the stench of old fags. No one stopped to ask who we were. I felt massively out of place.

  ‘Cool party,’ said Ash, nodding her head appreciatively to the music coming from the living room. It was some indie band I’d never heard of, but Ash obviously recognized it. She led me into the kitchen. ‘Let’s get a drink.’

  An expensive-looking white and metal table was laden with wine and vodka. Under the table were two dustbins full of ice and bottles. I spotted a glimpse of white through all the brown and picked out a Smirnoff Ice. That’d do. Ash sloshed a generous measure of vodka into a plastic cup and topped it up with Coke. ‘Cheers,’ she said, holding up her drink while looking around the room. ‘Whose place did you say this was again?’

  ‘It’s mine,’ said a voice behind me. I watched Ashley’s eyes widen at the sight of the voice’s owner. I looked round.

  ‘Hi, Will,’ I said.

  He smiled at me briefly. ‘Hey, Sarah, how’s it going?’ But he was looking at Ash. How does she DO that?

  ‘I’m Ashley,’ she said, sticking her hand out. ‘Seems you’re Will.’ She gazed up at him with huge eyes and a dirty grin, a mixture of pure sex and little-girl-lost. It was highly effective. Will nodded once, as if to say, Ah yes, my reputation as a Greek god precedes me.

  ‘Where’s Joe?’ I asked quickly.

  Will gestured through the wall to the dining room. ‘In there.’

  ‘Right. Well. I’ll go and find him then.’ I started to ask Ashley if she’d be OK, but it was a stupid question. She briefly caught my eye and mouthed, Have fun. I knew she would.

  I squeezed through the crush, apologizing about a million times for treading on people’s toes, and found my way into the dining room. Joe was sitting on the table, his feet on a chair, chatting to a bunch of people including, I was disgusted to note, bloody Mimi. I stood for a moment to watch them, but he spotted me almost immediately. His face broke into a massive smile and he jumped off the table and came over to me, wrapping me in a huge hug. My already shaky resolve weakened further. Oh, the smell of him.

  ‘I’m so glad you came,’ he shouted above the din. Then put his mouth to my ear and said, ‘Fancy going upstairs and coming all over again?’

  Even while my whole body cried out for me to say yes, I disengaged from his arms and stood back a bit. I wasn’t quite besotted or stupid enough to jump into bed again after what happened at the station. And, anyway, where would we go? He must have sensed my hesitation, because he ran his hands up and down my arms and said, ‘Look, Sarah, I’m sorry about what happened before … I was a bit scared, to be honest with you.’ I stared at him sceptically and he took my arm, leading me into a corner of the room. ‘Look, I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a long time.’ He ran the back of his hand down my cheek. ‘You’re beautiful, and funny, and clever … but you’re young.’

  I started to point out that I was only three years younger than him, but he stopped me. ‘I know, I know. And you’re mature for your age. But it does make a difference.’ He glanced over at Mimi and I followed his gaze. She was glaring at me with such venom I would have laughed if I hadn’t felt so scared. ‘Some people don’t think I should be seeing you,’ Joe continued. ‘But I can’t help it.’ He gently kissed my mouth. ‘Please come upstairs with me. I can’t talk to you here.’

  ‘All right,’ I said. ‘But just to talk.’

  Joe nodded and smiled, but his face was sincere. ‘Whatever you want.’ He took my hand and we made our way up the stairs. He stopped outside a closed door, gave it a quick knock then opened it and peered in. ‘It’s empty.’ He beckoned me in and closed the door behind me.

  ‘What if someone comes in?’ I asked, taking in the two single beds, the Toy Story curtains and the toy wigwam in the corner.

  ‘Somehow I don’t think anyone’s going to be sleeping here tonight,’ Joe replied, jumping on to one of the beds and stretching out his legs.

 
I perched on the edge of the other bed. ‘Where are Will’s parents?’

  ‘They’ve gone to the Bahamas for a month. This is his twin brothers’ room.’

  I looked around. ‘Er, no offence, but isn’t this room a bit immature for a twenty-year-old man?’

  Joe looked confused for a second, then laughed. ‘No, doofus. His little brothers who are twins?’

  ‘Oh!’ I reddened slightly and giggled. ‘Blimey, Will’s parents must be rich.’ I fingered the embroidery on the nautical-striped bedspread.

  Joe nodded. ‘Yup.’ Then he added cryptically, ‘Old money.’

  ‘Oh, right,’ I said, not knowing what he meant. Joe stuck his leg out and gently tapped my leg with his toe.

  ‘So, Sarah Doesn’t-like-beer …’ I didn’t say anything, just sat and looked at him. ‘Come and sit with me,’ Joe wheedled. ‘I promise I won’t jump your bones. Much as I want to.’ He eyed me so saucily that I couldn’t help laughing. He scooted up and put his arm out, then snuggled me into him as I sat beside him. ‘See? Much better.’ The seconds ticked away. It was so nice to be with him again. I inhaled slowly, breathing in his scent.

  ‘Uh, sorry, are you … smelling me?’ He sounded shocked. I giggled. ‘Well, how do I smell?’ he asked.

  I didn’t miss a beat. ‘Like shit.’ Joe threw his head back and laughed.

  ‘Oh, very funny, missy,’ he said, tickling me. I writhed around, guffawing helplessly. I knew what he was trying to do, but I was past trying to stop it. And, yes, within seconds he had me pinned to the bed. ‘Can I kiss you now?’ he asked, his face sweetly hopeful. I pretended to think about it for a moment, then nodded.

  ‘Thank God for that.’

  I didn’t stop him then, or when he undid my jeans, or when he shucked off his own jeans. I didn’t even worry about the fact we were in an unlocked room. I wanted him. And, almost before I knew it was going to happen, we were having sex on the carpet.