by Mel Sparke
Anna watched him swagger back to the others and smiled to herself. Matt was so super-smooth in such an obvious way that he almost made her die laughing at times. But she couldn’t help liking him all the same.
As Anna got a tray and started to get the order together, she realised how surprising it was that she did like Matt. Outwardly, he seemed brash and arrogant, much like David, her ex.
David had been half the reason why she had run away from her old life over a year ago. And it was partly down to him that Anna found it difficult to depend on anyone any more; she had taken such an emotional battering that she’d lost her faith in human nature.
Anna wondered if she would ever feel like a normal person again. She doubted it. It was amazing to think how much she had changed; not long ago she had been a regular, happy, sixteen-year-old, living at home, going to college, with little to concern her other than which of her friends to go out with on a Saturday night.
Just over a year later and she no longer recognised the carefree, living for laughs girl she had once been. Today, Anna Michaels felt a good decade older than she ought to: worldly-wise and wary, cautious and insular. Independent, yes, but also very lonely. Since leaving home, she had moved around a bit before arriving in Winstead where she’d found the job in the café and settled in the flat above. Slowly, her life was getting back on to an even keel.
But as she looked up and watched Matt and his friends larking about, Anna felt a desperate need to belong. In the few months since she had moved to Winstead, the opportunities to get involved with real life again had been there. She had grown fond of Matt’s particular crowd and felt that they had all gone out of their way to make her welcome. One day soon she hoped she’d be ready to open up and let them in.
But not yet.
“So what do you think? The pink top from here or the purple cross-over from Miss Selfridge?”
Sonja stood in the middle of What She Wants and demanded Kerry’s opinion. Even though Kerry was working at the chemist’s, Sonja had managed to cajole her into spending her Wednesday lunch hour traipsing round Winstead’s shopping centre to help her find something to wear for her date on Friday night.
“I mean.” Sonja went on, “the purple’s definitely more my colour, don’t you think? But the pink one’s a bit less smart. And I don’t want to turn up looking like I’m dressed for The Ritz when we’re only going to the pictures, do I? That would be so naff, wouldn’t it?”
Kerry looked vaguely at the top Sonja was waving about. She was hardly listening. Instead, she was worrying about whether to mention all the stuff Ollie had told her about Kyle. She knew she ought to say something-any true friend would-but she wasn’t entirely sure how Sonja would take it. Probably not very well was the niggling thought at the back of her head, and that was why she still hadn’t spoken up.
“You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve said,” barked Sonja, jerking Kerry back to reality. “Come on,” she added, “stop dreaming about Ollie and help me with this. Please.”
Sonja looked at her friend in desperation. For the first time in her life she was actually nervous about going out with someone. She wasn’t sure whether this was because she felt she really liked Kyle or because it was so long since she’d been on a proper date.
Whatever the reason, she was determined to get it right on the night.
“Oh, sorry,” Kerry whimpered sheepishly. “I was miles away. Actually, I prefer the purple one. It’s definitely more you.”
“Hmmm.”
Kerry knew immediately that this was the wrong answer. Sonja merely wanted confirmation of what she had already decided to buy which, judging by the tone of the muffled “Hmmm”, was the pink top.
“I’ll just go and pay for this then and we can go,” said Sonja and walked briskly to the checkout.
Kerry cursed her friend under her breath. What was the point of asking her opinion when Sonja had already made up her mind? It was so typical.
“I’ll have to get back now,” Kerry said as they walked out of the shop together.
“Oh, right, OK. And thanks for coming with me, Kez. I feel much better getting a second opinion. Y’know, I’ve got a really good vibe about this date. I can’t wait.”
Kerry smiled and hugged her friend, then set off back to work for the afternoon. She liked her job at Mr Hardy’s but it could be a bit boring and routine at times.
This particular afternoon was going incredibly slowly. Apart from a man coming in to buy haemorrhoid cream at about three o’clock, there were hardly any other customers at all. Then, just as Mr Hardy was locking the medical supplies in their cabinets at the back of the shop before shutting up for the evening, a young lad came in.
Kerry went to serve him. She thought she vaguely recognised him as he browsed his way up to the counter, but she couldn’t be sure. As he handed her a prescription which she passed through the hatch to Mr Hardy, she took a quick look at it: it was made out to Kyle Marsdon.
Oh my God! she thought. It’s him!
She watched agog as he inspected the shelves around him. She could see what Sonja saw in him-he was definitely cute. Then her mouth gaped as he began studying the condoms to the left of the cash till.
Oh, no. he’s not going to buy condoms-surely! she thought, her face reddening. He’s going on a first date with my best friend on Friday and he’s standing here about to buy condoms.
Kerry was aghast. She could hardly bear to watch, but she couldn’t look away either. Eyes still glued to Kyle, but desperate not to have to believe what she was seeing, she scurried to the opposite end of the counter. In her rush, she tripped over a cardboard box she’d been taking stock from earlier.
“Ouerrff!” Kerry found herself sprawled on her side on the shop floor, the box flattened beneath her. She lay there for a few seconds, dazed and uncoordinated. Then, her face burning even redder, she scrambled up to a sitting position and quickly adjusted her glasses which were hanging off the end of her nose. As she looked up, a face appeared from the other side of the counter.
“Are you all right?” Kyle asked anxiously.
Kerry opened her mouth to speak but found that no words would come out. Instead she sat guppy-like and humiliated, wishing she was somewhere-anywhere-else.
Kyle rushed round to her side of the counter, concern written on his face. Squatting in front of Kerry, he held out his arms and took her by the hands.
“Come on, let’s get you up,” he commanded, “so we can check there aren’t any broken bones.”
Not daring to look him in the eye, Kerry meekly allowed Kyle to haul her on to her feet.
“I… uh… thanks,” she croaked.
Just then Mr Hardy walked out from his dispensary at the back of the shop.
“Kerry! What on earth is going on here? And what are you doing letting your boyfriend behind the counter? You know it’s forbidden to let anyone around here.”
The shock of his words stung Kerry into stupefied silence once more. Mr Hardy must have heard the commotion and got the wrong idea. Completely.
Understandable, though. They probably looked like a couple of star-crossed lovers standing there hand in hand. He wasn’t to know the whole story, walking in on the tail end of it like that. Kerry whipped her hands out of Kyle’s, folded them defensively across her chest, and immediately made herself look even more guilty.
Fortunately, Kyle came to the rescue.
“Oh, no, Sir, it’s not what you think,” he explained, a look of open honesty on his face. “I don’t know this girl at all. She tripped and fell over-I just came round here to make sure she wasn’t hurt.”
Mr Hardy looked suspiciously from Kyle to Kerry and back again. Then his face softened slightly and he muttered something about Mr Marsdon’s prescription being ready before disappearing into the dispensary.
“Thanks again,” Kerry finally managed, looking up at Kyle and noticing his eyes twinkling with mirth.
“That’s okay,” he said lightly. “Are you sure
you’re all right?”
“I’m fine thanks. Really… I’ll, uh, get your prescription.”
As she backed away towards the little hatch to pick up his goods, he moved back to where he had originally been standing in front of the condoms. Kerry stared transfixed as he reached out and picked up two packets of throat sweets from the shelf in front of the condom display. He handed them to her.
“Sore throat,” he said. “Had it for over a week, but nothing seems to get rid of it. Think I’ll give these a go.”
Kerry nodded and smiled, and cursed herself for having an overactive imagination.
CHAPTER 6
SONJA’S FIRST DATE
For about the fifteenth time so far, Sonja stood in front of her full-length bedroom mirror and wrinkled her nose in distaste. It didn’t matter what she tried on, none of her clothes looked right.
Even the pink top that had looked so fabulous in the shop now looked garish and out of place next to anything she put with it.
The fact was Sonja was suffering from a massive bout of PMS and therefore her usual confidence had dissolved into gloomy self-criticism. It was amazing how one day and a few nagging hormones could turn even someone like her into a gibbering, cranky no-hoper. Sighing dramatically, she climbed out of the blue baggy shirt and cream shorts she was wearing and grabbed something else from the mountain of clothes strewn about her bed.
Half an hour later and she had finally decided to go back to the shirt and shorts, not least because it wouldn’t be long before she had to leave to meet Kyle for their date. Once dressed, but refusing to study her clothes any more in case she didn’t get out of the house at all, Sonja got up close to her reflection and frowned at her face: at least there weren’t any zits erupting from her skin. At the moment.
Cursing herself for having the pre-period blues, she vowed not to waste any more time on negative thoughts, grabbed her bag, and left.
Sonja reached the cinema with only minutes to spare. She’d expected Kyle to be waiting for her-but he wasn’t there. She gritted her teeth and seethed inside, imagining her foul-tempered hormones rushing to the surface. Then, getting a grip on her temper, she tried to think rationally.
Was she missing something? Had they perhaps said seven-thirty rather than seven-fifteen? She looked at the poster advertising the film they were supposed to be seeing. No, that couldn’t be it: the film started at seven thirty… in about five minutes in fact. Grrr! This didn’t bode well for the future.
Just then she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Spinning round, she came nose to nose with Kyle. Sonja stared at him, refusing to let her face register anything other than a stony glare which she hoped he would have the sense to read as a look of irritated displeasure.
“Oh, God, Sonja, I’m so sorry,” muttered Kyle. His brow furrowed into deep lines and he raked his left hand through his blond hair in the cutest of cute ways (or at least, that’s what Sonja thought, as her heart melted from a block of ice to a rushing waterfall).
“My car’s in the garage being repaired so I had to rely on the bus and it was late. I really am sorry…”
He gave Sonja a deeply apologetic look and she forgave him instantly.
“Anyway,” he continued, “shall we go in or we’ll miss the beginning.”
“Sure.”
Sonja put her arm confidently through Kyle’s and they walked up the steps together.
“So, d’you fancy getting something to eat?” Kyle asked as he and Sonja strolled hand in hand through the streets of Winstead later that evening.
“Yeah, I’m starving. There’s a little Italian called Luigi’s just round the corner from here which is supposed to be really cosy. We could go there.”
“Er… well, actually, I’m a bit strapped for cash at the moment. I was thinking maybe we could get a burger from Fat Larry’s-he’s usually parked in the lay-by by the Plaza on a Friday night. His fried onion rings are unbeatable.”
Sonja tried hard to hide her disappointment as she was steered down the road towards the mobile burger bar. It had been a really great evening so far; they had roared with laughter in exactly the same places in the film, and held hands and shared popcorn and Coke. They had discussed the movie on the way out of the cinema and. amazingly, were in total agreement about it.
Sonja had thought that the perfect way to round off the evening would be to go to the cheap but romantic-looking restaurant she’d heard about-she had even made a quick detour to check that it was open on her way to the cinema.
But now …?
Well, who says a greasy hot dog and fries can’t be just as romantic? she thought as she walked towards Fat Larry’s van with its neon sign flashing on and off in an oddly disconcerting manner.
After all, the person you’re with is more important than the place you’re in.
Sonja tried hard to find something that looked appetising from the fare Fat Larry (for that’s who she assumed the large man behind the counter was) served up. but ended up ordering just fries and a portion of onion rings (on Kyle’s insistence). In the meantime he had the works: double cheeseburger, large fries, double onion rings and a couple of deep fried pineapple rings to finish off.
They then sat on a wooden bench overlooking the High Street and ate their takeaway.
Kyle kept Sonja entertained while they ate, asking her about herself, yet keeping the conversation light by telling her jokes and funny anecdotes about himself in between mouthfuls of food.
He made her laugh by wearing his pineapple rings as earrings-childish, she knew, but somehow cute all the same. Sonja found herself liking him more all the time, with his cheekily dimpled face, ready smile and succulent lips (which she was dying to kiss).
When he had polished off his food, and most of hers, they walked arm in arm along the street, looking in shop windows, chatting easily about nothing in particular. When they came to a travel agents Kyle stopped and began poring over the numerous cards in the window.
“You know, I’ve never been further than the Isle of Wight,” he said wistfully. “I’ve never been abroad. The nearest I’ve got to being on a plane has been watching it on the telly. I can’t imagine what it’s like to fly.”
Sonja, who usually went abroad at least twice a year, even if only to visit relatives in Sweden, adored flying. “Oh, you’d love it,” she enthused. “It’s the oddest, most wonderfully weird feeling in the world.”
“I’m sure it is,” answered Kyle. “When I was little my dad used to take me to see the planes at Heathrow. We used to stand in the viewing gallery for hours watching them take off and land. He promised me that one day we’d be on one together, jetting off to the other side of the world.”
“He hasn’t got around to it yet then?” Sonja asked.
“No, and he won’t now. He died a couple of years back. Cancer.”
“Oh,” Sonja said in a small voice. “I’m sorry.”
“S’OK,” he said, turning to her with a serious look on his face for the first time since she’d met him. “We had plenty of warning. It was on the cards for months before he went. Better that way than for it to happen suddenly. That’s what I think anyway.”
Sonja bit her lip and said nothing. She hadn’t expected the evening to move on like this; it showed another dimension to Kyle, one which she wouldn’t normally expect a guy to reveal so early on in a relationship. It made her fall for him all the more.
“Why don’t you come back to my place for a coffee?” Kyle asked as they walked along the road together later.
“Urn, thanks for the offer, but I really ought to get back home. Another time maybe…”
Even though they were getting on really well, Sonja hardly knew Kyle; there was no way she was going back to his flat with him right now, no matter how much she fancied him.
“Are you sure?” he persisted. “I mean, it’s not far from here. We could walk there, then I’ll call you a cab home. I don’t bite. Honest.”
He turned to face her, gave her a winning s
mile then lowered his head to kiss her.
Sonja could feel her heart pounding as she raised her head to respond. When his lips met hers a zing of excitement shot through her entire body like an electric shock and she melted into him. It was heavenly.
They stood and kissed for ever; she felt his lips kissing hers, then she melted some more as his mouth butterfly-kissed her cheek, her nose and her eyes, first one then the other. She felt his hands travel up and down her back, gently kneading her skin with the tips of his fingers. Then they made their way round to her waist and up to the buttons of her shirt.
Oh, my God, he’s going for my boobs! she thought suddenly in alarm. What does he think he’s doing? Pulling her mouth away from his, Sonja lifted her hands-which had been resting comfortably on the waistband of Kyle’s jeans-and slammed them protectively over her chest.
“I don’t think so!” Sonja said firmly.
From the look on his face, Kyle was obviously taken aback. Then he tapped his hands together like he was praying and gave her a cheeky grin.
“I’m really sorry. Son,” he smiled, eyes twinkling mischievously. “I got a bit carried away. You’re just so hot, I couldn’t help myself. I don’t know what came over me.”
Sonja wasn’t entirely convinced. “Well, try a bit of self-control next time, will you? I’m not that kind of girl, you know,” she said and strode purposefully up the road.
“Yeah, sure. Sorry. I never thought you were. Like I said, I just… well, you know. I apologise. Do you forgive me?” Kyle gave her an imploring puppy-dog look that begged instant forgiveness.
“So long as you don’t try anything like that again.”
“Whatever you say, Son. From now on, you call the shots.”
As they continued walking towards Sonja’s house, she felt a strange surge of excitement and trepidation at the same time. She couldn’t help wondering what she was letting herself in for.
CHAPTER 7
WHO’S THE HUNK?
