Curve

by Nicola Hudson

  Life was good.

  Our first night back together turned out to be less exciting than either of us had hoped. We had gone to a pub in town for a drink with Neve and Jake, who seemed to be on the verge of becoming a couple. Unfortunately, there had been a group of Sixth Formers in the pub and their drunken antics had cast a shadow over the evening. I was conscious that they seemed unnecessarily interested in the four of us, especially as they didn’t know Jake. He had gone to a different high school and, with his tattoos, was probably nothing like the person others would expect Neve to be with. It seemed that every time one of them wanted to go to the loo or go outside for a cigarette, they took a route via our table. Nothing was said but the tension felt by both Neve and I was palpable. We ended up leaving earlier than planned and, as Flynn had driven us all, I ended up being dropped off at home whilst Neve was still in the car. Other than a fairly chaste kiss and a bit of hand-holding, we hadn’t really gotten close to each other all night.

  I lay in bed, feeling a bit frustrated and less confident about how well we would manage with everyday life to contend with. I reached for my phone to text Flynn but it chirped before I had even brought it to life.

  Flynn: That wasn’t the night I’d hoped for :(

  Me: It’s not your fault

  Flynn: What do you want to do tomorrow? Let’s make it just us.

  Me: I don’t mind. I agree to just us :)

  Flynn: Have you got trainers?

  Me: ?!

  Flynn: As in old comfy shoes that you don’t mind getting dirty

  Me: Yes. Why?!

  Flynn: Let’s escape! Wrap up warm. I’ll pick you up at 11.

  Me: Ooh, will you be feeling me up again ;-)

  Flynn: If you’re lucky! 11 OK?

  Me: Yes. I’m already excited!

  Flynn: Ditto. Night Cass xx

  Me: Night Flynn xx

  As I sat eating cereal with Mum and Sylvie the following morning, I thought about the day ahead. Although I was looking forward to just being with Flynn, I was also a little apprehensive about what the day would involve: yes, I had trainers, but that didn’t mean that I was ready for a day of exercise. Getting dressed, I opted for jeans and a couple of layered tops to help protect me against the cold, but sunny, day. I pulled my hair back into a loose plait and just went with a bit of concealer and mascara. I was waiting, scarf and gloves at the ready, when Flynn pulled up outside at exactly eleven.

  He drove us to a country park about half an hour away. I had been there a couple of times as a kid but hadn’t really ventured much beyond the adventure playground. Other than a few parked cars, there was no sign of anyone else around. Annoyingly, because it made me feel worse about my appearance, Flynn managed to look like he was modelling for an outdoor activity company. Random sections of his hair were peeking out from under a grey beanie and he had a padded gilet over his hoody. The low-slung, slouchy jeans and biker boots revealed when he get out of the car did nothing to make me feel less in awe of how sexy he was. Really, what does he see in me?

  Flynn tucked my scarf into the neckline of my coat and kissed me on the end of my nose. “You look good enough to eat.”

  “Promises, promises,” I laughed as I pulled him by his glove-clad hand in the direction of the entrance. The park was a mix of woodland and rolling fields, some more hilly than others. We walked for a couple of miles, until we were well out of sight of the car park. After a short incline, the hill levelled off to reveal a view of the surrounding countryside.

  “Ready to stop?” Flynn said, all rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes. God, he is so beautiful.

  “OK,” I replied, inwardly glad that we would be taking a breather. Flynn took a large plastic bag out of his pocket.

  “It’s not very glamorous but it will stop us getting damp bums,” he said whilst smoothing it down next to a large, leafless tree. He sat down, back to the trunk, and pulled me down so that I was nestled between his legs, my back against his chest. I could smell his aftershave and feel his warmth, even through my multiple layers.

  “Tell me something I don’t know about you, Cass.” He dropped his chin so that it was resting lightly on the top of my head.

  “What like?”

  “Anything…your first memory, who you admire…something that tells me more about you.” Putting his arms round me, he clasped his hands loosely around mine, our hands resting in my lap. My brain was trying to think of something significant whilst also processing every effect Flynn was having on my senses.

  “Umm, I have a birthmark that is the same as one my dad had.” I didn’t know where this random piece of information came from; I hadn’t thought about my dad in ages.

  “Where?”

  “On my side. It’s too cold to show you so don’t get any ideas!”

  “Do you ever see him?” Flynn’s question was an obvious response, given that we had never discussed my dad and I wondered if I had subconsciously mentioned the birthmark so that we would.

  “No. I haven’t heard anything from him since I was little. He dumped my mum when she got pregnant and only ever visited us a few times. I can’t really remember much about him so I don’t miss him.” Mum and I never discussed Dad and it was a bit weird talking about him like this.

  “You must miss having someone to stand up for you though. Even when I’m pissed off with Dad, I know that he’s there if I need him to be,” Flynn said, hugging me tighter.

  “Yeah, but you and your dad get on. It’s not always like that. He could be around but be a complete arse.” A part of me was feeling defensive, a part of me was filling with self-pity.

  “What about Mike?”

  “He tolerates me. I mean, he’s OK but I know that he is looking forward to me leaving for Uni. But I’ve got Mum and we’re getting on better lately.”

  “You know you have me now, don’t you? As in, I’m on your side?” He kissed the top of my head. I didn’t quite know how to interpret his words so just murmured an agreement. We sat like that for a while; there was no need to pretend that we were doing anything other than enjoying just being with each other. I was amazed at how contented I felt, sitting on a carrier bag in the middle of nowhere on a cold day.

  Just as I was thinking that the day couldn’t get any better, I felt Flynn moving around before he waved a bag of Minstrels in front of me.

  “Want one?”

  “Ooh, yes please.” Clearly it could get better: just add chocolate.

  “Well, you might have a problem there. They’re not free, you see. One kiss, one Minstrel!” Chocolate and kissing!

  “OK.” I turned my head enough to plant a quick kiss on Flynn’s cheek. “Minstrel please!” I held out my hand.

  “I’m not sure that really counts, but I’ll let you have it this time. Open wide!” Flynn held one of the sweets between his forefinger and thumb. When I opened my mouth he dropped the Minstrel in before taking one for himself.

  “Hey, that’s not fair,” I cried, “You didn’t pay!”

  “They’re mine so I don’t have to pay,” he grinned. “Do you want another?”

  “Yes please,” I said, angling my head further back until my neck was twisted at an unnatural angle.

  “Turn round,” Flynn instructed, releasing my hands. I wriggled around until I was knelt between his legs, facing him. “Now pay up!” He closed his eyes and pursed his lips like a small boy trying to avoid kissing a moustached aunt; with an inward smile, I knew that I could get some revenge here. Taking his face between my hands, I slowly ran my tongue across his lips before pushing it through them, teasingly dipping in and out of his mouth. As I kissed him, the sweetness of the chocolate added another dimension to the experience. His hands held my hips as he leaned in to deepen the kiss. I pulled back just as he was starting to get carried away.

  “OK, I’ve paid. Chocolate time!” Placing my hands on my hips, I adopted a look of impatience. Flynn took another of the sweets and placed it in my mouth, running his thumb along my lower lip, leav
ing a tingle in its wake. As the Minstrel melted, I wanted to do nothing but spend the rest of the day kissing him. We spent another half an hour trading kisses for chocolate, each kiss becoming more intense than the last, until the packet was empty.

  “Oh-oh,” I said, disappointment evident in my tone.

  “Come here, let’s not waste any,” Flynn responded, pulling me tight to him and cradling my head in his hand. As our tongues lapped up every last hint of chocolate, his other hand crept between us and started caressing my boobs. I groaned, sliding my own hands inside his gilet to clutch at his back. All of a sudden, a nudge at my back threw me off balance.

  “What the -?” I turned, only to be confronted by the lolling head of a black labrador nuzzling me.

  “Hobo! Get here! Sorry for that. He gets overly-friendly sometimes,” the mid-sixties man said, with an obvious glint in his eye. “Sorry to disturb you!” He walked away, Hobo at his side.

  “Oh my God, that was so embarrassing! How much do you think he saw?” My face burned with the idea of him seeing what we had been up to.

  “It’s alright. It’s not like we’ll ever see him again. I suppose we’d better make a move. It looks like it might rain,” Flynn said, standing before helping me up. He pulled me into a close hug, surrounding me with his arms. “You are amazing, Cass. You and a packet on Minstrels and I’m a quivering wreck!” I laughed and hugged him back.

  “It’s mutual, Flynn. I’m going to think of this afternoon every time I taste chocolate.”

  When we got into the warmth of the car, he looked at me before starting the engine. “If I ask you something, I don’t want you to think I’ve got an agenda. OK?” I was more intrigued than worried by his nervousness.

  “Yeah. What is it?”

  “I’d like to take you away for Valentine’s. Well, that weekend. Umm, just to get some time without anyone else around. I’m not expecting anything more than being with you. And, if, you know, you don’t feel that you want to, that’s OK, I’m not going to be upset-” Silencing his rambling with a kiss, I took hold of his hands.

  “That would be lovely, Flynn. Thank you.” As I kissed him again, I felt the tension leave him on a sigh.

  “I’ve been trying to decide how to ask that all day,” he admitted, making me laugh.

  “And there was me thinking how comfortable the silence was between us!” I was touched that he had felt nervous about asking; in some ways it was a big deal, especially as it had put a potential date for sleeping together into the proverbial calendar. However, I was also pleased that he was assuming that we would still be together in a month’s time.

  “Will your mum be OK about it?” It was funny that he thought about that before I did.

  “I think so. She has already tried to give me the safe sex talk,” I confessed. His eyes widened but he wisely didn’t ask for details.

  “What do you want to do now, Cass?” It was just gone three. I knew Mike would be at the shop and Mum and Sylvie were going shopping this afternoon.

  “Do you want to come back to mine for a bit? I think the house will be empty.” I tried not to smile at the implication behind what I had said. Flynn’s reply was a grin as he started the engine.

  When we got to my house, I felt surprisingly nervous. I was so used to being around him at his house but he seemed so out of place in ours. As I made us a drink, I saw the house through a stranger’s eyes: the dated furniture, the worn carpet, the kitchen in need of renovation. The contrast with the Peters’ home was stark. There were so many differences between us.

  “Can I see your room?” He followed me upstairs and my nervousness increased. The only person to have been in my room, other than my family, was Neve and even that wasn’t a frequent occurrence. In a house where I didn’t feel like I was truly part of the family, my room was my sanctuary, my home. Opening the door to let Flynn in first, I wondered what he would think about it.

  He went straight to the wall opposite my bed. “Wow! Did you do this?”

  “Yeah. I started it when I was twelve and it’s carried on since then.” The wall was made up of one giant collage. I had spent years cutting images and words out of magazines and sticking them up; later on, I added photographs I had taken myself. Many reflected the mood I had been in at the time and so there was a conflicting mix of positive and negative connotations spread before us. Looking at them, I could remember when certain parts had been created; it was a scrapbook of my life that made no sense to anyone else. “Believe it or not, it started as a picture of Britney Spears. Mum went mad, saying that wasn’t the sort of image I should be obsessing over and so we went through a magazine, pulling out pictures and words I liked. We stuck them over Britney and I never stopped.” How had I forgotten that it had started with Mum?

  “It’s a work of art, Cass. There’s so much to look at.” He walked closer, examining details. “Which is your favourite bit?”

  Surprised that he was so interested, I pointed out a section by the edge of my desk. The dominant image was of two hands , the fingers entwined. It was surrounded by photos of things in pairs: children’s mittens, conjoined cherries, a cup and saucer. I had glued the words ‘joined, ‘unite’ and ‘connect’ over the top. I had added the section a few days ago. Without needing an explanation, Flynn worked out its significance and tugged me to him.

  “I feel that connection too, Cass. Like it’s meant to be,” he added before kissing me. His hands pulled my hair out of its plait, freeing it before massaging my scalp. Within those few seconds I became a quivering mess, filled with longing. Moving away from the collage, I pulled Flynn with me and, when my knees gave way, we landed in a tangle of arms and legs on my bed. The frustration of several days apart and the lack of physical contact last night was evident in both of us. As Flynn hurriedly removed my layers, I was pulling at his top, trying to get the hoody over his head without ending the kiss. I welcomed the familiar heat of his hips pressing into mine, the pressure making me moan in desperate frustration.

  Running my hands down his back, I used the belt loops on his jeans to pull him even closer into me, wishing that there were no barriers between us. Flynn’s moan was deep and reverberated through me, making me want him even more. I loved the feeling of power that came from knowing I had caused this reaction in him. My satisfaction was ruined by the sound of the front door closing.

  “Hi Cass!” Mum’s voice echoed through the house.

  “Shit.”

  “Fuck.” We separated quickly, trying to put clothing back on and calm our breathing. The sound of Sylvie tripping up the stairs panicked me.

  “It’s Sylvie. Shit. Shit. Shit.” I pulled Flynn down so that we were sat, apparently innocently, on my bed. I pressed my pillow into his lap, trying to hide his very obvious arousal, just as she came through the door.

  “I got my ears pierced! Look Flynn,” she cried, climbing onto the bed between us and angling her head to give him a better view.

  “Wow, they’re pretty. Did it hurt?” Even though he must have been feeling as frustrated as me, none of that was conveyed to Sylvie. As they chatted about the piercing process and why she had picked blue crystal studs over the other options, I squeezed his hand, trying to tell him without words how much he meant to me. He was sexy, he was intelligent, he was kind: he was perfect.

  When Sylvie went back downstairs, I kissed him on the cheek.

  “Thank you for that.”

  “For what?” Flynn asked as he adjusted his jeans and we got ready to leave my room.

  “For being so nice to Sylvie. She really loves you.” And it was at that point that I wondered if I loved him. Was this feeling love? I wasn’t sure and certainly didn’t want to scare him off with any romantic declarations but knew that I would be pondering about this when I was by myself.

  “I thought you were thanking me for the quickie we almost had,” he joked, making me blush. “Seriously, Cass, it will be fantastic not to have to worry about being interrupted. This can’t be good for my he
alth!” He slapped me playfully on the bum and we went downstairs.

  Mum invited Flynn to stay for dinner when Mike got back from the shop. As much as I knew it would be awkward, I also knew that we needed to play the game so agreed on Flynn’s behalf. He wanted to go home and change so said he would come back for eight. As I let him out, he whispered to me to ask Mum about the Valentine’s trip. I nodded but wondered how on Earth I was going to broach the topic.

  Sylvie had disappeared when I returned to the lounge so I decided to go for it.

  “Flynn wants to take me away for Valentine’s.” I knew that keeping it factual would make me seem less nervous.

  “And what did you say?”

  “I told him that I’d like to go but I needed to check with you first.” It was only a slight bending of the truth.

  There was a pause before she replied, “I like him Cass and I’m OK with it as long as it’s not putting any pressure on you. Are you having sex?”

  “Oh Mum, don’t go there again. Please!” I covered my face with my hands to hide my flaming cheeks.

  “Cass, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Like I said before, I just want you to be safe. That’s all. End of topic.” She pulled my hands away from my face and kissed me on the tip of my nose. “I know you’re all grown up, Cass, but that doesn’t stop me worrying about you.” I hugged her and went up to my room, thankful that the conversation hadn’t been any worse.

  Unfortunately, Mike didn’t seem to share Mum’s liberal attitude towards my relationship with Flynn. As we ate dinner, there was a noticeable tension. Flynn was on his best behaviour, politely answering the multitude of questions that Mike threw at him, covering everything from his career aspirations to his car. But it felt like there was a hidden agenda to Mike’s interrogation, one that was known only to him. I looked questioningly at Mum a couple of times but she just answered with a raised eyebrow.