I Knew You Were Trouble: A Jessie Jefferson Novel (27 page)

Agnes is swamped in a chunky cardie. No coats necessary, at least not yet. She joins me, glancing over her shoulder at the van.

‘Lord, give me strength,’ she murmurs.

I look back to see what she’s talking about and am greeted by the sight of two boys wrestling to pull on black wetsuits over their bare, leanly muscled chests.

I quickly face forward again and gulp.

‘I’m glad you’ve got a boyfriend,’ she jokes.

‘He’s all yours,’ I joke back, shoving her playfully towards the sand dunes. Surely she knows that, if I didn’t have a boyfriend, it would be Jack, not Brett, who
I’d be interested in. ‘Come on, let’s go and watch from up there.’

‘Take this!’ Brett calls, reaching into the van and throwing us a blanket. Agnes catches it. I don’t dare look at them again.

‘Right, dish it,’ I say, as soon as we’re seated on the cool sand, huddled together underneath the blanket.

‘Dish what?’ she asks innocently.

‘I haven’t been able to talk to you in the car, but now I want all the dirt. What’s the story with you and Brett?’

She sighs melodramatically. ‘Like he said, his mum worked for my parents. She’s American, but Brett’s dad is Australian and, when they got divorced, she moved back over here. I
was ten when they came to live with us, and Brett was twelve, the same age as Jack. They were like brothers for four years – really close – but Brett never went to school with us. He
lived with us, but he wasn’t like us. His mum was employed by my parents, but that didn’t bother him. He didn’t seem to mind that he didn’t live in the house with us,
either. He and his mum lived in the game room, actually. We only recently converted it. He was just totally cool, totally chilled out. He was the first person I ever fell in love with.’ She
looks over her shoulder. ‘Oh, look, there they go.’

I follow her gaze to see them walking away from the campervan towards the beach. Brett is carrying what looks like a shorter than usual surfboard with blue and yellow fabric bunched up on
top.

Agnes sighs appreciatively. ‘He’s so hot.’

My corresponding smile withers when I notice Lewis’s car parked further up the car park. I wonder if he’s watching me.

I turn back to Agnes.

‘Did anything ever happen between you?’ I ask.

She starts to chew on her thumbnail and nods hesitantly. ‘The first time we kissed was on my twelfth birthday. No one knew, not even Jack. At least, I don’t think he did. He never
said anything. Brett didn’t kiss me again for over a year, and I was heartbroken. He went back to acting like my big brother and I didn’t think he liked me. I was miserable.’ She
gives a little laugh.

‘Then, one night, our parents were out and Drew invited some older friends over for a party. They were all getting carried away, drinking and smoking, and I wasn’t happy. Brett let
me hide out at his place and we kissed again. It was way more full-on this time.’

‘How old were you?’ I ask with a slight frown.

‘Not quite fourteen.’

‘What happened after that?’ I try to mask the fact that I’m shocked.

‘He backed right off. I don’t think he could believe he let it get that far. He was a lot older than me. Anyway, things were never the same after that, and a few months later his mom
started talking about moving back to Australia.’

‘Did you stay in touch?’ I ask.

‘No.’ She shakes her head. ‘But he and Jack did. I had no idea he was coming last night until he showed up.’

I look over at the beach to see Jack standing by the pale green water, white foam crashing onto the sand by his feet. Brett must already be out on the kiteboard.

‘Jessie?’ I start at the sound of Lewis’s voice and quickly scramble to my feet.

‘Everything OK?’ I ask.

‘It’s all good,’ he replies. ‘I’m going to leave you to it.’

‘Really?’ I’m amazed. I thought he’d hang around for longer.

‘No one’s going to bother you here. Enjoy yourself, but Johnny expects you back by ten o’clock, latest. Brett knows.’

‘OK.’ I’m slightly mortified that Brett has been told to return me by a certain time or face my dad’s wrath, but I’m still grateful for the respite. ‘Thank
you!’ I call after him, as he turns away from me to head back across the sand.

I glance back at the beach to see Jack looking up at us.

‘You’re free!’ Agnes chirps. ‘Oh my God, we could run away to Santa Cruz and hide out in a motel room.’

‘That’s so tempting,’ I say with a laugh, as I sit back down on the sand with her. And it is. But I wouldn’t do that to Johnny, not after everything he’s done for
me.

Agnes yawns after a little while, setting me off. I barely slept last night. In fact, I’ve barely slept all week, I’ve been freaking out so much about the gig. She lies back on the
sand and closes her eyes, but I stay sitting upright. Brett has just surfed onto the shore and now Jack is having a turn.

I watch, riveted, as he wades out into the surf and bends down to strap his feet to the board. The kite billows out behind him and suddenly he’s off, whizzing through the water as the
blue-and-yellow-striped kite soars up into the sky in the shape of an arc. A wave crashes towards him and he kicks up and over it, the kiteboard almost vertical for a split second before it crashes
down into the surf and carries on zipping through the waves.

It’s one of the coolest things I have ever seen.

I feel movement beside me and then Agnes is sitting up again.

‘You still like him, don’t you?’ she says quietly.

I frown and jolt away from the sight before me, ready to brush her off.

‘I know you have a boyfriend. I get it,’ she says, a little wearily. ‘But that doesn’t mean you stop feeling. And you can confide in me, you know. You can trust
me.’

I let out a small sigh, suddenly feeling desolate. ‘I know I can.’ I don’t want to look at her, so I find myself staring at the ocean instead. At Jack. ‘I’m not
entirely sure I can trust myself, though.’ I breathe in sharply. ‘I shouldn’t have said that,’ I say quickly. ‘It’s just that I feel like I’ve been away
from Tom for months, but it’s only been weeks.’ I half laugh. ‘And we were only together for weeks, but it felt like months. It’s all so confusing. I guess I’ll feel
better when I see him at Christmas.’

‘You’re going back to the UK?’ Agnes asks with surprise. ‘I thought you were going to be here for a bit longer? Lottie has the most amazing New Year’s Eve party. I
can’t believe you’re going to miss—’

‘I’m coming back,’ I interrupt her.

‘When?’

‘I’m only going home for a week,’ I explain. ‘Then I’m coming back and I think I’m going to be attending school here.’

‘You are shitting me!’ she cries. ‘Which school? Please tell me it’s mine!’

I laugh at her reaction. ‘I hope so. Annie’s going to try to get me in, but I didn’t want to tell you until it was definite. Anyway, it’s not like we’ll be in the
same class.’

‘Why not?’

‘You’re sixteen already. I don’t turn sixteen until January.’

My chest constricts painfully at the reminder that my birthday will also be the first anniversary of Mum’s death.

‘I got held back a year,’ Agnes explains. ‘I was the youngest in my year, and I didn’t exactly have the most ordinary childhood with my dad getting up to the things he
got up to. I fell behind, so Mom made me repeat the year.’

‘No way! So we’ll be in the same class?’ I beam at her. That’s it, then. I wasn’t entirely sure I’d want to go to school here, but if I’ll be with Agnes
it’s a done deal.

Down on the beach, Brett looks up and sees us. He’s standing with his wetsuit down to his waist, a towel draped round his neck. Agnes waves at him and he points towards his van, beckoning
for us to join him.

She sighs dreamily as we get to our feet.

‘Over Miles, then?’ I ask her, as we walk carefully down the dune, trying not to let the sand seep over the top of our shoes.

‘Miles who?’ she replies, and maybe it’s bravado, but I don’t push it. I don’t want to break my promise to Jack by saying something I shouldn’t. I’m
just glad she’s got someone to take her mind off him.

‘I give up,’ she says, laughing and setting off downhill at a run. I do the same, mentally cursing the billions of grains that are now cushioning my trainers.

We reach the campervan slightly out of breath but laughing. Brett has somehow managed to get more or less dressed by the time we get there and he’s inside near the small fridge, boiling a
kettle.

‘You guys want a cuppa?’ he asks.

‘Yes, please!’

The doors at the back of the van are wide open, providing a ledge for Agnes and me to sit on. One after the other, we take off our shoes and shake out the pesky sand.

‘What do you guys want to do for lunch?’ Brett asks, passing us both steaming mugs of tea. ‘We could head into town or go grab some stuff for a picnic and come back
here?’

‘I vote picnic,’ Agnes says. ‘I’m starving.’

‘Me too,’ I agree.

Brett stares at the water. ‘Jack will be out there for a while yet. Do you want to wait here and I’ll duck to the shops?’

‘No way, you’ll come back with a load of crap,’ Agnes says. ‘I know you.’

‘You go with him,’ I say with a smile. ‘I’ll wait here and let Jack know where you’ve gone.’

‘OK, cool,’ Brett says.

He gets out a collapsible chair from underneath the bed and opens it up, facing the ocean.

‘Thanks,’ I say, sitting down and nestling my mug of tea in my hands.

‘See you in a bit,’ he says.

‘Hey, shouldn’t I keep Jack’s clothes or something?’ I ask with a frown.

‘Oh, yeah.’ He looks a bit bashful. ‘He would’ve killed me if I’d nicked off with his gear.’

Soon afterwards, I’m all alone. More alone physically, I realise, than I’ve been in a long time. No bodyguard, no family and no friends, well, apart from Jack out there in the ocean.
His clothes are in a bundle on my lap and I can just make out the faint scent of his deodorant mingling with the ocean air.

There must be about twenty kitesurfers out there, but the other kites may as well be coloured black and white because Jack’s is the only one I’m drawn to.

I watch as he surfs up onto the beach and looks over at me, but he’s too far away for me to be able to see his expression. He’s probably wondering where the van is, so I stand up and
wave at him. He waves back and bends down to take his feet out of the kiteboard.

He’s still wearing his wetsuit when he reaches me, his equipment tucked under his arm.

‘Agnes and Brett have gone to get some food for lunch,’ I call, as he approaches.

‘Cool.’ He nods and lays the board flat on the sand a few metres away. His black hair is dripping wet, seawater trailing in rivulets down the side of his face, drawing even more
attention than normal to the angles of his cheekbones. He straightens up and unzips his wetsuit, his eyes meeting mine.

What was that I was saying about enjoying my own company? I have a strong feeling that I’m going to enjoy Jack’s more…

Reaching behind me, I grab the towel from the back of the chair. Jack takes it from my hands and makes short work of drying himself off.

I feel nervous and jittery and I’m trying so hard not to look at his bare chest. He’s more muscular than I thought he’d be. He doesn’t seem like a guy who would work out.
Maybe he does press-ups.

My brain chooses to show me a mental image of him doing just that, and I feel like a hot flush has overcome me, even though the wind is cold. I quickly come to my senses.

‘You must be freezing,’ I say, throwing him his dark-blue hoodie. He pulls it over his head, and I try to look away, really I do, but I can’t help catching a glimpse of his
chest again before it’s covered up.

He steps out of his wetsuit and I stare steadfastly at the ocean as he dries the rest of himself off.

‘Do me a favour and hold the towel up while I change out of my swimming trunks,’ he says.

My eyes widen.

‘Well, unless you want me to strip off with everyone watching,’ he adds.

‘Of course. I mean, of course not. Sure.’ Flustered, I get to my feet and hold the towel up while he stands with his back to the nearest car, reaching for his boxers and his jeans
from the car roof as and when he’s ready for them.

He’s wriggling around a lot, but I’m looking off to the side. Surely he must be done by now. Feeling his eyes on me, I turn to face him, meeting his blue-grey gaze straight on.

‘Are you done yet?’ I ask, discomforted by the closeness of our bodies.

‘Pretty much.’

From his hand movements, he’s buttoning up his jeans, but he hasn’t taken his eyes from mine, so I let the towel drop and have a millisecond of panic before I see that he
is
covered up.

His wet hair is falling down across his forehead and he grins, shoving it back. It must be so obvious I’m still affected by him.

‘No shoes?’ he asks.

‘Shit, sorry, no,’ I reply.

‘S’OK.’ He walks towards the chair. ‘Only one?’

‘I’m not doing very well, am I? You sit down. You must be knackered.’

He slumps into the chair and loudly exhales. ‘It’s hard work,’ he agrees.

I stand off to his side. ‘It looks like so much fun.’

‘It is.’ He grins up at me. His long legs are stretched out in front of him, his feet bare and still tanned.

‘Oh,’ he says, patting his pocket. I assume he’s going to pull out his fags, but he gets his phone out instead. ‘I keep meaning to check Twitter.’

Now I’m nervous for completely different reasons.

‘Stop pacing,’ he says after a while.

I look at him worriedly, but he’s grinning up at me.

‘They loved you.’

‘Did they?’ I stand behind him and bend down to read his phone over his shoulder.

My heart is in my throat as I read comment after comment about me and the gig. The fans are raving about it.