by Ross, P. A.
“You’re wearing the shirt we picked. It looks good,” she said, running her hand gently through her flame red hair.
“Thanks,” I gulped back.
“You look lovely,” I said, feeling I should recognise the effect she had on me.
“Do you think? Just some clothes I had lying about.”
“Come in; I am glad you could still make it,” she said.
“Of course we can still have fun just the two us,” I added.
“This way,” she said and walked upstairs to her bedroom.
I hastily kicked off my shoes and followed her up the stairs. I walked behind with her red hot pants just about head height and noticed a tattoo in the small of her back, a pair of extended silver and gold angel wings. My eyes transfixed on the tattoo and the red hot pants as she moved up the stairs in front of me. Her hips bouncing up and down as she climbed, giving the illusion of the wings moving. If Mary were wrong, it would be a long day.
Scarlett lived in a two bedroom, beautifully decorated, semi-detached house on a new estate. Her house felt warm, and shone clean and tidy. A pinewood fragrance filled the air from fresheners dotted about the house, rather than the musty smell of old socks we had in my house. I felt embarrassed by the state of my own house, and realised I would need to tidy it up if I ever invited her around. In her bedroom, posters of sci-fi films and heavy metal bands covered her walls. The other students in the college would have guessed her room to be pink with posters of boy bands. Everything I knew about Scarlett seemed to contradict what everyone else thought and the image she portrayed.
We started off listening to some classic heavy metal albums and singing along in her bedroom. Scarlett’s rich red hair bouncing around, as she threw her head around to the music, and I hoped Mary was right. Enclosed in her bedroom the intensity between us grew. My heart pounded faster than ever before and I heated up, so I quickly unbuttoned my polo shirt to let the air in. I tried my best to keep the conversation going, repeating things discussed only the day before but uncomfortable silences kept breaking any momentum I developed to talk about our relationship. Scarlett spoke very little and I tried harder to engage her in conversation. I couldn’t decide if it was boredom or fear that kept her unusually quiet. My phone beeped and I received a text.
“Just tell her the truth,” Mary’s message said.
Scarlett’s phone beeped next. I guessed Scarlett’s message came from Mary from the way she shielded her phone on receiving it, and the look I got after she read it.
Scarlett got up and ran off to the toilet, and I heard more beeps. She then reappeared at the bedroom door.
“You want a drink?” she asked.
“Tea, please.”
She ran downstairs and I could hear voices. I guessed Scarlett was making secret phone calls to Mary. I realised it wasn’t just me that was getting uncomfortable and acting strangely. Maybe there was some truth in Mary’s comments. I hoped it was Mary encouraging Scarlett to tell the truth as well, and maybe it explained her behaviour.
“Do you want to come down stairs and watch a film?” Scarlett shouted.
“Coming,” I replied and walked down the stairs looking at the photos of her and her Mum on the wall. All the photos were recently taken, with nothing from her past before London. I sat on soft fabric beige sofas in front of the TV and Scarlett entered carrying tea and snacks. We watched Star Wars together sharing a packet of tortilla chips sat in a bowl between us. Occasionally our hands touched as we reached in and it sent a tingling through my arm. The film helped relieve the pressure of making conversation and avoided the tension between us. Eventually, the film finished. Neither of us said anything, and I just stared at the credits waiting for inspiration.
Scarlett eventually took the initiative, moved the empty bowl and slid across sofa.
“Jon, I’m glad Mary isn’t here today as I have something I want to talk to you about.”
It sounded promising and I sat up straight anticipating what she would say next.
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“Why do you keeping ignoring me and running off?” she asked.
It’s not the question I expected. I sank back down into the sofa and answered the same way I have always answered.
“I told you before, just family issues,” I said, feeling deflated.
“No, don’t lie to me anymore. I can tell it’s something to do with me.”
“No, it’s really not,” I responded again.
“Yes it is; just tell me the truth,” she asked again, reaching out and holding my hand.
I tried to pull away but she gripped harder as my resistance increased.
“You have to face up to it, you can’t be scared all the time,” she said, staring into my eyes.
My gaze focused onto her beautiful light green eyes. I felt scared and wanted to run but she just held my hand tighter every time I tried to move away. It had been hard enough not saying something before. I had itched to tell her in the past but always seen sense at the last minute not wanting to ruin our friendship. I looked away unable to take the pressure and stared at the floor. I wanted it to be true. I wanted to tell her everything but she might laugh at the idea. She squeezed my hand gently, prompting and reminding me of her presence. I had said to myself when I moved to London, it would be a new me, not scared anymore, a fresh start. I had to tell her even if it went badly. I had to be a new person. I wouldn’t let the O’Keefes win.
“Yes, you’re right. I can’t do this anymore,” I said taking a deep breath, and I gripped her hand back but couldn’t look her in the eyes.
“I hide because I find it hard to be around you,” I said, not realising how it sounded.
“What’s wrong with me?” she answered indignantly, pulling her hand back but I held it tight.
“Nothing, that’s the point. You are gorgeous and funny and I enjoy spending all my time with you.”
“So what’s the problem?”
I would have to spell it out to her. I looked up straight into her green eyes and faced the truth.
“I am attracted to you and I want more than just a friendship.”
I finally got it out, and for few seconds I felt the pressure of my emotions disappear but then I became worried. She squeezed my hand again and smiled.
“So why didn’t you say before.”
“Just look at you. Let’s face it; you’re way out of my league. First, you’re nearly two years older than I am. Second, they are much better looking guys than me wanting to go out with you. And you’re gorgeous, and funny, and could do much better than me,” I rambled at her, repeating myself but I kept my focus into her eyes.
Scarlett leant forward brushing away my hair draped over the side of my face.
“There is a handsome man under all that hair and gloom,” she said. “You are a real friend not like the others in the class. They only pretend. They are only after one thing.”
“I am hardly popular or fashionable like you,” I said, embarrassed by her affection and my face glowed from her gentle touch across my cheek.
“I wish I had the guts to dress how I truly felt, I am too scared of what others would think,” she said.
She then looked at me for a long time not saying a word, seemingly weighing up the situation.
“Let me show you something.”
Scarlett pulled out her photo album from the shelves and pointed at some pictures of her at school in Leeds. I didn’t recognise her. Where she pointed on the picture stood a girl with brown hair, thick glasses and fat pushing out against her school uniform. She looked like a geek.
“Yes, that’s me.”
I did the double take from photo to her and back. Scarlett smiled, obviously used to this reaction.
“I lost my appetite during my parent’s divorce, things were difficult. Mum wanted out of Leeds and found a job in London so we moved.”
“She reinvented herself, became a new person,” she said.
I looked at the photo and then a
t Scarlett again still taking it in, finding it hard to believe.
“I did the same. I decided to live up to my name of Scarlett, dyed my hair, changed my image, stayed on a diet to keep the weight off and got contact lenses.”
Scarlett took the photo album, shoved it back on the shelves, and out of her sight like a memory she wished to forget and re-joined me on the sofa holding my hand again.
“What did I look like, Jon?” she asked.
“A normal girl.”
She raised her eyebrows and looked at me sternly.
“Say what you really thought.”
“A geek,” I responded timidly and tried to smile the insult away.
“Yes, I was; I still am,” she answered back, “this is just an image,” she said waving at her clothes and hair.
“I have never had a proper boyfriend and I am guessing you never had a girlfriend either.”
“Not really,” I answered.
“So, this isn’t easy for me either Jon, I thought you’d gone off me by hiding away.”
“No, I haven’t. It just felt easier to avoid it. I hoped the time apart would make it easier but it didn’t. I just missed you more.”
“Can’t run scared all your life Jon,” she said, and shuffled towards me on the sofa.
“I want us to be more than friends as well,” she said shyly titling her head to one side.
Her flame red hair cascaded and revealed her vulnerable neck, while her light green eyes kept their gaze into mine.
It’s actually happening, I said to myself over and over. I was no expert in signals from girls but even I had seen enough films to know what to do next. I shuffled along the sofa, removing the final space between us, and put my arm around her. We looked into each other’s eyes for a few moments, her pupils dilated into dark pools and she flicked her tongue briefly across her top red lip. We began leaning into each other’s embrace and edged forwards with our heads titling around each other. Our lips finally connected. We started kissing. I put my arms around her waist and pulled her in closer. She moved with the flow wrapping her arms around me and kissing me back passionately. I shook in ecstasy. My heart felt as if it would break open my bones, as it hammered on the walls of my rib cage. All of my daydreams had come true. I couldn’t believe it was really happening.
When we finally stopped kissing, we just looked into one another’s eyes for a while. Not sure what to do next. I decided I should come clean on my past life just as she had done. I wanted to be a new person and I had to face the truth of what happened in Leeds. I need someone to share it with. I started telling her about Giles and the gangs. The bullying and the fear we lived in, and the eventual move to London. She knew some of the story, as she had read about it in the papers and heard it through friends at my old school. She had heard of the O’Keefe gang and knew of a feud between them and a gang on her estate. She understood as she had been bullied herself.
The rest of the day went well. Scarlett texted Mary to tell her the news and we just enjoyed each other’s company without the tension. Just like a normal couple, doing normal things together. We watched the next Star Wars film and snuggled up on the sofa together just as I had dreamed. We kissed more, shared our feelings about how we felt and how it all started, and laughed about our terrible attempts of coming out with the truth. The next morning, I woke up and remembered it was all real, not my subconscious trying to destroy me but life finally rewarding me. I had never been happier and bounced out of bed racing to get dressed, and to get back over to Scarlett’s house for my first full day as her boyfriend.
CHAPTER 5
I’d been dating Scarlett for a couple of weeks in secret, only Mary knew. We decided not to hide it anymore while at college. As Scarlett and I walked across to the front gates, the wind picked up the leaves and continually shuffled them into different piles across the courtyard. Mary walked behind us listening to her iPod, giving us a little space, happy she didn’t have to play piggy in the middle anymore.
Through the gates, a gang hung about waiting for friends and getting up to no good. Scarlett and Mary had warned me about this gang on the first day I arrived; they were called the “Rude Crew.” I never had any issues with them, and I had kept well out of their way taking the long routes around to keep out of their sight. That day, Mary and Scarlett wanted to go shopping nearby and this was the direct route. Probably because of my newly found confidence, I strode through the front gates hand-in-hand with Scarlett.
The gang contained six ex-students who hung around harassing the kids from the school, while selling drugs, drinks and stolen goods. Barry McGown controlled the gang and sat on his mountain bike in middle of the action, and the others vied for his attention. By the look of his hardened craggy face his twenty years of life had been full of fighting. His black puffer jacket covered his large body frame which contrasted to his blond shaven head and high heavy forehead, with the ever-present gang hoodie hung out the back of his coat. Barry looked like a thug. In comparison, Tony, the youngest member of the gang, clothes hung off his lean tall frame. The others in the gang ranged in ages between Tony and Barry. They all wore black or blue jeans, jackets, trainers or boots and hoodies, either over their heads or hanging down. The others in the gang were John, George, Mike and Andy. Mike, on his skateboard and Andy on his bike, shouted and crashed into people as they hopelessly tried to perform tricks. Andy’s face carried a few cuts and bruises, and had the sides of his hair shaven and a strip down the middle in short blond spikes. Mike had perfectly styled hair and a clean shaven face. He obviously spent a look of time grooming his looks. To the side, John and George huddled together with a student making a drug transaction. John, the second in command, was thick set and muscular with light brown hair in a long ponytail. George was small and wiry, head and eyes flitting about like a meerkat. Hands quickly passed money, then small wraps of paper back and then quickly into pockets as they looked around furtively for teachers or police. In the centre of it all, Barry sat smugly on his bike sneering lustfully at the girls walking past, and kept an eye on the general goings on.
The noise of the gang drown out the noises of the other students, and as we walked past, I couldn’t help but look over. At that moment, Barry caught my eye and nudged Tony. They began to whisper and then looked over at me again. I pulled my head round quickly and continued to walk off. I didn’t want to get involved. I had enough of gangs in Leeds. I just wanted a quiet life. I didn’t care that they sold drugs or stole stuff from other students, not my concern. I’d learnt my lessons in Leeds.
I walked on picking up the pace, pulling Scarlett and Mary with me. If I walked away and didn’t look back, it would show I wasn’t interested; it would show them I wasn’t worth the bother. I reached the corner and turned around to look back. Tony and John were stalking me. Too late.
I kept striding on when Scarlett hauled me back.
“Why you in such a rush?” she asked, as she ground to a halt, and pulled me back by my arm.
“I think I have attracted the attention of that gang. Some of them are following me,” I replied, and glanced back at them again. My new confidence started melting away and in turn the same anxieties I felt when at school in Leeds crept back.
She peered around, and glimpsed them catching up with us, turned back around and grabbed my arm.
“Just keep walking,” she said to us calmly, as she pressed forwards.
We moved quickly through the rest of the kids walking home but they still followed. We tried to escape by running down a deserted alley. Our legs cut through the cold autumn air whipping up the leaves and rubbish, which stuck to our feet as we ran. They saw us and started to run; their feet slapped the ground behind us. I let the girls run ahead as I knew we weren’t far from a shopping area and relative safety in public view. As they ran, Scarlett’s bag slipped off her shoulder and wrapped around my legs. My feet tangled up in the shoulder strap, and I stumbled and tripped. I flew forwards stretching my hands out before me and shieldin
g the blow from my face. My hands took the blow and burnt against the rough pavement, and I rolled forward onto my back trying to take the momentum out of the fall. I shook my legs loose of the strap but Tony and John had already made up the ground and now stood either side of me.
“In a rush are we?” Tony asked.
“It’s not nice running off; we just wanted to meet you,” John added.
I stood up, picked up Scarlett’s bag and went to walk past them but Tony blocked my path with his arm.
“Hey, where are you going with your pretty little bag,” he asked, and looked at the pink bag I had swung over my shoulder.
“With my friends,” I replied and looked straight past him to the end of the alley, knowing I wasn’t far away from safety.
“You’re not from round here are you? You’re new. Where are you from?”
“Leeds,” I responded.
I tried to play it cool, just give them easy answers and maybe I could get away with a warning. Maybe I could be walking away from here in a few seconds with just my ears ringing with abuse and threats. I would be happy with that, not a pleasant way to finish the day but better than others.
“Hey John, we’ve got a northerner here. What are you doing here? I don’t remember you asking us,” Tony said.
“What?”
“Listen to him, what do you sound like,” he laughed, and John sighed with disapproval.
“Just leave me alone,” I said, and I tried to walk off past Tony again, hoping it would prove my lack of interest.
“No. I won’t leave you alone. What are you doing with that girl?”
He grabbed hold of my coat collars and pushed me back into John, who placed his hands on my shoulders and held me firm.
“She’s my girlfriend,” I responded, not expecting this question.
“No way,” he laughed, “you don’t get to go out with one of our girls.”
“She’s not from round here either. She’s from Leeds like me,” I responded angrily.
