Kiss of Death (17 page)

She actually stops dead at that, as if I’d slammed the wind out of her.

“What?”
she says eventually, sounding stunned.

“He came up to Edinburgh to see me,” I explain, in a voice that would be beaming if that were possible.

“Huh.” Taylor processes this and launches into another stream of words. “How did he know where you were? Did you call him? You didn’t tell me you called him! And are you by the bonfire? I walked all around it looking for you, but it’s so dark!”

“I’m sorry,” I say, genuinely remorseful at having worried her. “No, we’re off by this other quarry. Like a huge hole in the ground.”

“Wow, sounds majorly romantic,” she drawls. “Hanging out by a huge hole in the ground. Well, I’ll fill the guys in on what you’re up to, and let you get back to whatever you were doing, okay? Sorry I broke the flow.”

We didn’t actually stop,
I think, blushing; Jase has pulled up my sweater and T-shirt and I’m writhing with pleasure at what he’s doing right now.

“I’ll call you when we’re getting ready to go,” she concludes.

“Great,” I squeak as Jase’s fingers find a particularly sensitive spot.

“Eew, you’re at it while I’m on the phone with you?
Gross,
” Taylor says, and hangs up.

“Don’t stop,” I say to Jase, shoving the phone back at my pocket, missing, and hearing it fall to the ground without even caring. “Just don’t stop.…”

And later on, it’s him begging me not to stop, neither of us caring how much the gravel digs into us through our jeans, how cold it is wherever we’re not touching each other, how eerie it is out here in the pale gray moonlight; we’re barely aware of anything but each other’s bodies, how wonderful it is to be back together, how totally and completely right everything feels, how amazing it is that we can drive each other this crazy and, even while we let go and fall, know that we’re completely safe, that our landings will be soft and sweet, cushioned in each other’s arms.

“I love you, Scarlett,” Jase says when we swim back to consciousness, taking the hand that’s lying across his chest and kissing its palm. “I know it’s not going to be easy, being together. I can’t promise it’s not going to get to me, this crap with my dad and your parents. I can’t promise I won’t get my head messed up with it and that it might come between us sometimes. But I love you, and I won’t just disappear on you anymore.”

“Good,” I say fervently, ducking my head to kiss his arm. “Because I don’t think I could bear it if you ever did that again.”

“I won’t,” he says quietly. “I promise.”

Dawn’s almost breaking as we walk slowly back through the bushes, hand in hand, Jase navigating our way and holding back branches for me in a very gentlemanly fashion. Boys, I’ve noticed, act very protectively when they like you, as if you couldn’t manage to open doors or find your own way through a wood without falling over and smacking your head open. I bite my tongue, because I’ve worked out by now that this behavior doesn’t mean that Jase thinks I’m a silly girl who couldn’t cope for two seconds out in the world by myself. He wants to show how much he cares about me, and this is one of the ways boys do it.

When we reach the main path, we join the steady flow of people walking back to their cars carrying instruments, rolled-up rugs propped over their shoulders, and black bin liners clanking with empty cans and bottles. A tall, skinny white boy with a head of dreadlocks that look like they weigh more than he does is dragging a small generator on a trolley, its wheels bouncing over the ruts in the path. Everyone’s yawning and happy, totally chilled, people walking in groups, holding hands, or with their arms round each other’s shoulders.

I think back to my only other teenage party, Nadia’s chic penthouse soiree, rich kids clinking champagne glasses, and how mean and cliquey the atmosphere was. This is the complete opposite; I’m exchanging smiles with people we pass, shared, weary grins of pure happiness at having had an amazing, magical night.

“Brilliant party,” people mumble to each other cheerfully. A girl splits off from a trio walking up ahead to give the dreadlocked boy a hand pulling the trolley, as someone else dives into a bush to retrieve some empty plastic bottles.

I only ever want parties to be like this from now on,
I think, blissfully exhausted, as we reach the ruined old stone house and I guide Jase around it to where Ewan parked the car up on the bank. Taylor, Callum, and Ewan are already gathered there, the boys loading their stuff into the boot, Taylor leaning against the side of the car. She’s obviously had a brilliant time at the party: she looks as relaxed as if she’s had a full-body massage, her hands tucked into her pockets, her mouth tilting upward at the corners even before she spots us.

“I think over here they’d call you a dirty stopout,” she drawls as we walk up to her. “Isn’t that the expression?” She grins at Jase. “Nice to see you again,” she adds.

“You too,” Jase says, returning her grin. He’s always liked Taylor.

“Are you coming back to Wakefield?” she asks.

Jase heaves a sigh. “I dunno,” he says, not letting go of my hand. “I dunno if I can. But Scarlett and I are going to make it work, whatever happens.”

I squeeze his hand, choked up by this public declaration.

“Um, this is Jase,” Taylor says to Callum and Ewan as they slam the car boot shut, making the car wobble precipitately on the slope. “Scarlett’s boyfriend. You know.”

Wow, this is awkward. I’ve been so caught up in my overwhelming excitement at seeing Jase that I haven’t had a moment to think about what meeting up with Callum again will be like. It’d be cringe-worthy enough even without Jase on my arm; with him, it’s positively nuclear.
Hi, you know how I kissed you and then shot off like I’d been fired out of a cannon as soon as you put your tongue in my mouth? Well, this is my boyfriend. Taylor filled you in on him, right? I didn’t say a word about him before, but I’m madly in love with him. Whoops!

If I were Callum, I’d be livid. Even though I’m as sure as I can be that Callum didn’t feel any chemistry between us either, I’d still be furious if he’d kissed me, legged it, and turned up hours later, beaming from ear to ear, wrapped around a total stranger and announcing that she was his girlfriend. I’d feel pretty used.

Jase stiffens as Callum walks toward us, and I look at Callum nervously. It’s not that I’m expecting a major scene, with insults or even punches thrown, but I wouldn’t blame Callum at all for being miffed and making that clear—or trying to embarrass me in front of Jase.

But Callum doesn’t meet my eyes, which is good, I suppose. Better than an angry stare. He mutters a brief “All right” of acknowledgment at the two of us as he passes, and turns away to where Taylor’s standing by the car. He unlocks the driver’s door as Ewan strides round the other side of the car; Ewan glances at me and Jase over the slant of the roof, a harder expression in his hazel eyes than I’ve ever seen.

He’s cross with me because he thinks I led Callum on,
I realize, wincing.
And I can’t blame him either.

There’s no way I can launch into a long explanation of the circumstances behind my apparent jump from one boy to another tonight. Not now, anyway, when everyone’s exhausted and we need to get going. Ewan reaches out and grabs the keys from Callum abruptly, as if he’s got a bone to pick with him too. Probably he’s just knackered, but the atmosphere’s so heavy with tension you could cut it with a butter knife. I feel really guilty for having precipitated this, especially when I ended up having such a wonderful time while both Callum and Ewan, who had all the bother of bringing us to the party, are visibly cross and tired. It doesn’t feel fair.

“We should hit the road,” Callum mutters as Ewan levers himself into the driver’s seat, the car creaking with his weight. “The girls have to sneak back into school before it’s full daylight.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jase says, with an edge to his voice, wrapping his arm round me.

Wow, I think. Tonight I ran away from Callum and ended up with Jase, and Jase is the one who’s acting aggressively. How does that work?

Streaks of pale pink are beginning to flood gently into the pale gray sky. A bright dot of sun stretches into a clear white line of light on the horizon, the pale pink darkening to rose, infusing the dawn, as Jase and I stand side by side and watch the sun peek into view.

“I’ll let you get back,” he says, bending to kiss me, taking his time, making the point to Callum that he might have kissed me at the start of the evening, but Jase is the one who’s ended up with me. “Call me later, okay?”

“Okay,” I say, really happy that he’s kissed me, but awkward that it’s happened in front of Callum. I just peck him back, and then dive into the car after Taylor, landing almost on top of her because of the angle at which it’s parked.

“You on your bike, Jase?” Taylor calls.

“Yeah.” Jase tilts his thumb at it, pulled up on the far side of the road. “Scarlett, maybe I can see you this evening?”

“I should be able to get out for an hour or two, at least,” I say eagerly through the window, filled with happiness at this sudden shift from not knowing when I’ll see him next to planning meetings on a daily basis. “I’ll text you as soon as I know our schedule, okay?”

Callum opens the glove compartment, pulls out a can of something, and pops it open, handing it to Ewan.

“Emergency driving rations,” he says shortly.

Taylor and I crane our heads:
It can’t be beer,
I think nervously.
If it is, and Jase spots it—

But it’s Irn-Bru, that weird Scottish orange sort-of-energy-drink. Ewan mutters thanks and tilts his head back, glugging it down as he starts the car. I swivel in the backseat as Ewan bumps the car down the bank and onto the dirt road again; I’m watching Jase pull out his helmet and straddle his bike, and I raise my hand to him, waving through the back window. He looks up, sees me, and waves back, his hand now encased in its heavy gauntlet. I subside back into the seat, grinning from ear to ear with happiness. To my amazement, Taylor, smiling widely, wraps an arm around me and pulls me against her, something she’s never, ever done before, her whole body loose and relaxed.

Wow, Taylor’s actually being physically affectionate. She and Ewan must have done more than just play bongos together,
I think, closing my eyes. It’s odd; we’re in the back, curled up against each other, smiling as we relive our happy memories of the night we’ve just spent, while in the front the two boys’ backs are as stiff and straight as if they’d been taking tips in posture from my grandmother’s etiquette guide for students. I assume that Callum’s pissed off that Ewan managed to have a nice time with Taylor, while Callum was left in the cold, and that Ewan’s embarrassed about the situation, but, really, what do I know? I’m scarcely an expert on boys. I only really know one of them.

And that’s more than enough for me,
I think happily as the motion of the car and the cozy hug with Taylor rock me to sleep.

Taylor crashes out too: Callum and Ewan have to wake us both up when we arrive back at Fetters. I blink, yawning deeply, as Ewan says shortly:

“You’d better leg it—it’s getting bright.”

I expect Taylor to acknowledge him in some way: touch his shoulder, maybe, or even kiss him through the open window. But she’s out of the car before me, tossing a goodbye over her shoulder, crossing the street without looking back. Even in my exhausted state, I’m taken aback by this. Maybe she’s being sensitive to the fact that Ewan and she got on well while Callum was left spinning, the third wheel, but even so, it seems a bit curt. I assume she’s going to text him as soon as we’re back in our room.

I echo her goodbye and add a thank you for good measure as I tear out of the car too, so relieved to be away from the deep awkwardness of the situation that, despite my tiredness, I’m positively sprinting as I vault over the wall and run back across the lawn to the fire escape. We chin ourselves up, swing our legs onto the stairs, and dash up as fast as we can without making the metal framework creak too loudly. Taylor puts her finger to her lips as we reach Plum and Susan’s bedroom window, which we passed on our way down. I nod to show I remember, but the litter of cigarette butts on the sill would have identified it for me even without her reminder.

The curtains are half open, and I can’t help peering in as we reach it, wondering if everyone crashed in Plum’s room after their impromptu party. But what I see is not at all what I expect.

The layout of the bedroom is just the same as mine and Taylor’s: a single bed on each side, a patterned strip of carpet running down the center. The difference between our bedroom and this one is that here, one of the beds is unoccupied. And the other one has two girls in it, lying very close together to fit onto the narrow mattress.

Susan seems fast asleep, her fair hair drifting over Plum’s chest, her head cradled on Plum’s narrow chest. There’s a blanket drawn up over the two girls, but I can see them clearly in the pale morning light; Plum’s head is on the pillow, one arm around Susan’s waist, the other cradling her head. Gently, she’s stroking Susan’s hair, looking down at the top of Susan’s head with a softness in her gaze that, in anyone else, I wouldn’t hesitate to call love.

I shouldn’t be staring. This isn’t any business of mine. But I’m paralyzed by the sight. I honestly don’t know what’s more of a shock: realizing that Plum and Susan are a couple—or seeing Plum behave this tenderly to another person.

My God,
I think.
She’s actually human after all.

Taylor is pulling at my arm to move me on; and then, over my shoulder, she sees what I’m looking at, and she freezes too. That must have caught Plum’s attention, because she looks up. And before I can duck, her eyes meet mine.

It feels like that moment lasts forever. Plum’s hand has stilled on Susan’s hair; we’re all as motionless as statues. Plum’s green eyes are wide now with sheer panic. I’ve never seen her look this scared.

I’m almost hypnotized.