Popping the Cherry

by Aurelia B. Rowl

  The police showed up at around two o’clock to take my statement, but they must have called Jake too, because he arrived before I’d got the front door closed. His right eye was swollen and he had a nasty purple bruise spreading across his cheekbone. He refused to meet my gaze but followed me into the front room and sat next to me on the sofa, right up close, then took hold of my hand with his; whether that was for my benefit, or his, or purely for appearances’ sake was anyone’s guess.

  Regardless of his motives, I accepted the support it offered and closed my grip around his fingers. He tried not to wince, so I tilted his hand over and gasped. His knuckles were grazed and the middle one appeared to be nearly twice its normal size. Meeting my eye for no more than a heartbeat, he gave a tiny shrug that clearly said, ‘It’s nothing,’ as if he were a telepath and had put the words directly into my head.

  As I gave my statement, I withdrew deeper into my shell, forced to put up emotional barriers and pretend I was describing something I’d seen on the telly. Listening to Jake give his statement, I realised just how lucky I’d been. Naturally I was a bit shaken, but something had actually gone my way for once. Jake hung back when I saw the police out. I knew he wanted to interrogate me himself, and it was obvious he was unhappy with me staying on my own, so I decided to get in first.

  ‘I guess you’d better get back to work,’ I said, holding the front door wide open. ‘Thank you for everything.’

  ‘You shouldn’t be on your own, Tink.’ His tender use of my nickname stabbed me in the chest.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I lied.

  ‘We need to talk.’ Jake gazed at me with sad eyes, the corner of his lips turning down.

  I very nearly caved in. Nearly, but not quite.

  ‘I think you’ve said quite enough for one day, don’t you?’ I said, trying to sound aloof, even though I wanted to scream and beg him to hold me just one more time.

  His eyes widened. ‘You heard that?’

  ‘Yes I did.’

  He stiffened. ‘So that’s it?’

  ‘Yeah, I guess so.’ A stone took up residence where my heart had once been.

  He swallowed. ‘But—’

  ‘But if I’m ever in the market for a big brother you’ll be the first to know.’

  Jake looked shell-shocked as he walked out through the open doorway. He stopped on the top step and turned back to face me. A transformation had come over him and he no longer looked invincible. If anything, I’d say he was at breaking point. He opened his mouth to say something else but no words came.

  ‘Goodbye, Jake.’

  I closed the door on him before I could change my mind, then sank to the floor. He stayed there for what felt like for ever, shuffling and scuffing his feet, before finally getting back in his van and driving away. Time to call in the cavalry. Flick would never forgive me if I didn’t fill her in, and Nathan would probably crash the car if I told him on the way to work, so I sent them both a text to see if they were free.

  Flick was the first to arrive, still dressed in her leotard. I started to tell her what had happened but then Nathan showed up, coming straight from the building site, so he was caked in dirt, but he was also bearing enough dinner to feed another half a dozen of us, so I let him off. They took the news pretty badly. It was kind of ironic, really. My actual so-called best friend—as Jake had so poignantly put it—had practically shunned me, she’d distanced herself totally, whereas Flick threw her arms around me and fought back tears, and Nathan immediately offered to stay over until Mum and Dad came home.

  I gladly took him up on his offer, knowing that nighttimes would always be the hardest part for me. He dashed off to pack a bag with the proviso that Flick delay her plans until he returned. Sure enough, the nightmares came. It got to the point where Nathan was spending more time in my room than in the spare room, with neither of us getting much sleep, so he dragged back the quilt and climbed in with me. I didn’t wake up again until my alarm went off. My head was on Nathan’s chest and his arm was draped over me, weighing a ton. He knew better than trying to talk me out of going to work, so off we went.

  Normality was good. Nathan didn’t even bother with the spare room that night. He was my living, breathing teddy bear. Mum and Dad arrived home midafternoon, alarmed to find Nathan and his overnight bag in my bedroom until I told them what had happened. They seemed to struggle with the concept of a guy and a girl being best friends but managed to keep their thoughts to themselves. The police came over with an update and to let me know that Ryan wasn’t pressing charges against Jake. Finally some good news.

  Nathan went home after dinner, and, although my sleep wasn’t great, the nightmares were bearable. I could either let the whole sorry experience define me, turn me inward and make me bitter and resentful, or I could rally against it and try to put it behind me.

  I choose life.

  My life may well have hit rock bottom, but that just meant the only way was up. I was done feeling like a victim. It was going to happen overnight, but I had to start somewhere. Little steps—most likely two steps forward and one step back—but the key was to just keep on trying. To keep moving.

  Never give up.

  And the first thing I could take back control of was me. It was my turn to call an intervention, and I had an ultimatum of my own.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  PEACE

  As I rode the bus into college on what turned out to be a sunny Monday morning, I texted the others and asked them to meet me at the oak tree right after the lunch bell rang. I’d refused Gemma’s calls all weekend and hadn’t even bothered opening her texts so I was wasn’t sure what kind of turnout I’d get. The last to arrive, I barely recognised Gemma as I walked up behind her. She wore a basic t-shirt over jeans and trainers—Gemma didn’t do trainers unless it was to go to the gym—and her hair was tied back in a ponytail.

  Judging from the way people kept darting glances in her direction, I wasn’t the only one struggling with the sudden change in her appearance, but, when she turned to look at me, my jaw dropped. Anyone would think she’d been on the receiving end of Ryan’s attention instead of me. She certainly looked worse. Her eyes were huge and puffy, and she hadn’t even bothered with makeup to try to cover it up. I’d made an effort to put on makeup and style my hair, and, although I wore my usual jeans and Converse, I’d put on a nice top and a chunky leather belt.

  No matter how much Gemma was freaking me out, I’d brought them all together for a reason, so I’d best get it over with.

  ‘Thank you for coming. I’ll keep this brief.’ I sucked in a deep breath. ‘I’m not here to talk about Hallowe’en: I want to talk about Operation: Popping the Cherry and how much it’s upset me.’ I held up my hand when Chloe tried to speak. ‘Although your intentions were good, I never once felt comfortable with it, and I didn’t appreciate having it forced on me. You’re supposed to my friends, but if you can’t accept me for who I am, for what I believe in and the choices I make, then it looks like we’re done here.’

  Piper stared at her feet, Chloe her nails, and Gemma stared down at the floor. Flick was the only one to meet my eye. She smiled and gave me the thumbs-up, which gave me the strength to say the next part—the part I’d been dreading.

  ‘And Gemma?’ She tensed at the mention of her name. ‘I’ve made my choice.’ I waited until she met my gaze, her eyes brimming with tears. ‘I choose neither.’

  Gemma flinched but nodded her head, dislodging a tear, and I watched as it trickled down her cheek.

  A part of me ached inside. I didn’t want to hurt her, and it wasn’t in my nature to be a bitch, but she’d gone too far this time. Gemma knew it, too. She didn’t even try to argue or defend herself.

  ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to grab some lunch,’ I said, forcing the words past the lump in my throat. ‘If nobody wants to join me, I’ll understand.’ I turned and made my retreat. Gemma started sobbing behind me but I held my head up high and carried on walking. Flick was the on
ly one to catch up with me.

  ‘It’s about bloody time,’ she said, putting her arm around my shoulder and giving me a squeeze.

  ‘Thanks.’

  Piper and Chloe showed up halfway through lunch, but Gemma wasn’t with them.

  The next few days were tough going, especially when Gemma didn’t show up at college, but I just had to take one day at a time. Gemma reappeared at the lunch table on Friday, looking much more herself, but a sombre, more muted version. We still chatted and spent time together within the group but the special bond we’d had was gone. Broken. It was weird not texting her all the time, or calling her up about the silliest things.

  Term dragged on and on, but, with winter in full swing, my thoughts switched to my birthday. Nathan and Flick persuaded me to hold a Valentine’s Ball, and Mum and Dad managed to snag the perfect venue, thanks to being quiz buddies with the manager. A Valentine’s Ball meant dancing though, and ballroom-dancing lessons were a must, apparently, with Nathan as my unfortunate dance partner, but we soon got the hang of it, twirling and waltzing our way to the Christmas break.

  Mum and Dad surprised me with a holiday, two-week all-inclusive in Antigua, in a bid to cheer me up and end the year on a good note. Nathan had been let in on the secret and had managed to get my shifts covered at work, so all I had to do was pack my suitcase and off I went with Mum and Dad. Our villa was amazing, right next to the harbour, on the edge of a mile-long sandy beach. The hot sun on my skin was glorious, not to mention long overdue.

  Everything was so colourful, from the azure blue sky to the bright orange and red tropical flowers, to the turquoise ocean that called my name. I threw myself into the watersports: I learned to windsurf and to sail a catamaran. But the waterskiing was beyond me. The longest I managed to stand was two seconds at most before I face-planted into the warm, blue Caribbean Sea. Forced to admit defeat, with my thighs cut to shreds by the force of the water, and my body covered in bruises.

  My comedy mishap prompted me to send a long-overdue text to Zac, wishing him a Merry Christmas, sending him the same photo I’d already texted to both Flick and Nathan: me, chilling on the beach beneath a palm tree in my favourite red bikini, with a cocktail in my hand and a strand of silver tinsel wrapped around my head. It was about as festive as it got on a tropical island. The holiday was exactly what I needed, though, and it was great spending quality time with Mum and Dad. But not even the scorching white sand could reach the cold, empty spot in my heart.

  After hours of umming and ahing, I sent the Christmas text to Jake and Gemma, too. Christmas wasn’t really Christmas without the Saunders family involved somehow.

  As our plane descended on our return flight, my holiday buzz went with it. Rain lashed the windows and the air temperature plummeted to bitterly cold as we hurried from the terminal to the airport parking in completely inappropriate clothes. My flip-flops squelched and slid beneath my feet, but I’d packed my shoes in the suitcase without thinking of the weather at the other end. Dad had the heaters going full blast all the way home, and the colour of the sky threatened snow. It was certainly cold enough.

  Despite getting soaked and frozen to the bone, it was still good to be home. A new year meant new beginnings. No way could the year ahead be as bad as the one that had finally passed. And I had a totally awesome tan to show off. I hadn’t even got my seatbelt off when Gemma pulled onto the driveway behind us. She cut the engine and climbed out of her car, not noticing us as she dashed past our car in her haste to get to the front door. Gemma pressed the doorbell with one hand, and held a pretty gift bag in the other.

  ‘Someone’s keen to see you,’ Mum said.

  ‘Yeah.’ I could feel my face changing as my surprise gave way to curiosity.

  Gemma’s body language grew more agitated and her shoulders sagged when nobody answered the door.

  ‘You go on ahead and open up, love. Your dad and I can bring the cases in.’

  ‘OK, thanks.’ I didn’t needed telling twice, so I opened my car door and stepped out into the rain. ‘I’m over here.’

  Gemma spun around to search for me. A bright smile lit up her face before she could tone it down to a more polite, reserved welcome. Maybe I wasn’t the only one struggling with how things were. I slipped and slopped over the driveway to join her at the front of the house, grabbing my keys out of my bag so we could get under cover.

  ‘Welcome home,’ Gemma said, as I unlocked the door. She followed me inside and we stood, loitering in the hallway. ‘Thank you for your text. It looks like you were having a great time.’

  ‘I did, yeah, and I’ve got loads of pictures,’ I said, going along with the small talk. It wasn’t as if I had any better ideas of what to talk about. The last time I’d been on my own with Gemma was when she’d dropped me home after all the hoo-ha. ‘Do you want to come up to my room?’ The question sounded so lame, I cringed.

  Man, this sucks.

  I hated how awkward things were between us. There was no denying I missed her—every single day—and I would have loved to be able to wave a magic wand to make it all go back to how it had once been.

  ‘Yeah, I’d like that,’ she said, so I set off up the stairs. Gemma closed my bedroom door behind her and held the gift bag out to me. ‘Merry Christmas, Lena.’

  ‘Thanks.’ A heavy sensation settled in my stomach, and I couldn’t meet her gaze. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t get you anything.’

  ‘Good, I didn’t deserve anything.’ She spoke so fast I struggled to keep up. ‘I’ve been a terrible friend to you. I should have been there for you but I wasn’t, and I’ll never forgive myself for the way I treated you after everything you’d been through. I’m so sorry for being such an idiot.’

  ‘Um … thanks.’

  I didn’t know whether to burst into tears, throw my arms around her, or kick her out, so we stood facing each other instead.

  ‘Why don’t you open your presents?’

  ‘Presents?’ I switched my attention to the bag and undid the bow to open it. Inside were three presents: two wrapped in a plain green metallic paper, the third wrapped in a patterned paper complete with ribbons and a bow. ‘This is too much. You shouldn’t have.’

  ‘Er … well … two of them are from Jake.’

  ‘Jake?’ My voice cracked.

  ‘Yeah, he came home on Christmas Day and asked me to give them to you.’

  ‘Came home?’

  ‘Did you not know? Jake moved out not long after …’ Gemma wrung her hands together and her cheeks flushed. ‘He said he needed his own space, and some privacy, away from a meddling, melodramatic sister.’

  ‘Oh.’ I couldn’t blame him. ‘So how is he?’

  The moment the words had left my lips I realised I hadn’t even asked how Gemma was. I braced myself for fireworks but they never came.

  ‘He’s busy,’ she said flatly. ‘If he’s not at work, he’s doing his house up.’ Gemma paused, sadness taking over her features. ‘I don’t really see much of him any more.’

  Desperate to change the subject, I reached into the bag and drew out the girlier-looking present, oblong and flat, and lighter than I expected. ‘From you, I assume?’

  A half-smile flitted over her lips. ‘How ever did you guess?’

  Inside was a framed photograph of me, Gemma and Jake, taken at his birthday party. He was standing between us, an arm over each of our shoulders, and all three of us smiling brightly. The ache in my heart made it painful to breathe. I itched to trace a finger over his face but thought better of it.

  ‘I love it,’ I said, determined not to crumble, but my voice wavered all the same. There had to be plenty of pictures of just Gemma and me, even from Jake’s party, yet she’d chosen one with the three of us together. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I miss you, Lena,’ she blurted. ‘Do you think there’s any chance at all that we could go back to being friends?’ Her face twisted with anguish. She couldn’t have looked more sorry if she’d tried. ‘That you could ever for
give me?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said truthfully. ‘But I’d like to try.’

  Gemma rushed at me and threw her arms around me in a hug. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll never let you down again, I swear.’ I couldn’t return her embrace, my hands full, but it felt nice. She pulled back after a few moments and nodded towards the bag. ‘So what did Jake get you?’

  ‘You don’t know?’

  ‘Not a clue.’

  ‘And you won’t get mad? I can wait until later if it makes you uncomfortable.’

  ‘Thanks, but no. It’s my stupid problem and I’m doing my best to get over it. Plus, it’s been driving me mad, trying to figure out what he’s got you.’

  ‘OK.’ I opened the smaller of the two green parcels and found a white box inside. The lid was tight but it slowly came off to reveal the treasure within. My whole body clenched and tears threatened to spill over. ‘Oh …’

  Jake had given me a delicate silver bookmark; the metal kind that hooks over the spine of the book. The stem was wavy, maybe ten centimetres long, and on the dangling part there were clear crystal beads with an emerald-green pearl bead in between, but at the end of it hung a Tinkerbell charm. A grown-up version, though, cast in silver, with purple crystals for wings.

  ‘That’s really pretty.’

  I nodded. ‘It’s beautiful.’

  ‘I guess he knows you quite well. It would also explain this too,’ Gemma said, handing me the second green parcel.

  Although it didn’t match Gemma’s art in wrapping, Jake had actually done a neat job. It was easily as good as my efforts, he just hadn’t bothered with all the extra fluff. The gift itself was rectangular, fairly heavy, and it could bend, too.

  ‘I reckon you’re right: it has to be a book.’

  But which one?

  My hands shook as I hooked my finger under one of the seams. The paper fell open to reveal a copy of Shakespeare’s Sonnets.

  ‘Huh, I take it he knows you’re into Shakespeare, then?’