Popping the Cherry (13 page)

Mum poked her head inside my room, so I looked up from my music player and hoped she didn’t notice the headphones still dangling over the edge of my bed.

Note to self: always keep a book next to the bed in future
.

‘What time are your friends due over?’ she asked.

‘Umm … we said around eight o’clock in the end.’ I put down my iPod and slowly released the air trapped in my lungs. ‘Flick’s coming straight from her ballet class.’

‘That’s good. You won’t be on your own for too long, then.’ Mum still hadn’t recovered from last week’s drama but she was doing her best not to do the cotton-wool thing. ‘We’ve left some money on the telephone table if you want to ring out for pizzas, otherwise there’s plenty of food in the fridge.’

‘Ooh, pizza sounds great. Thanks, Mum.’ She hovered in the doorway, as if she couldn’t bear to tear herself away. ‘Go on, I’ll be fine,’ I said, putting on my best ‘adult’ face. ‘Lock the door behind you if it makes you feel better.’

That did the trick.

‘Good idea. I’ll do that.’ She glanced at the clock on my wall. ‘Right, I better get a shift on before your dad starts grumbling.’ Instead of leaving, as I expected, she dashed all the way into my room and pressed a kiss onto the top of my head first, then darted out and pulled the door shut behind her.

‘Ah, there you are,’ Dad joked, his voice carrying up the stairs. ‘I was about to send out a search party for you.’ I couldn’t hear Mum’s reply but the sound of them both laughing made me smile. ‘Bye, Tink, we’re off now,’ he called up to me a few minutes later.

‘Bye, have fun,’ I shouted back.

‘Bye,’ Mum replied. ‘Take care.’

I waited until the front door slammed shut, then fished the shortlist out again. Headlights streamed through my bedroom window ten minutes later, so I hopped off the bed and watched Gemma pull onto the driveway, then I bounded down the stairs to let her in, relishing being able to move again, and discovered Piper and Chloe on the door step as well.

‘Hi, come on in,’ I said, stepping aside. ‘Mum and Dad have already left so we’ve got the place to ourselves.’ I was still ushering them in when another car pulled up outside the house. The back door opened and a pair of long legs appeared, complete with fluffy leg warmers, signalling Flick’s arrival. ‘Perfect timing,’ I said as she walked towards the door. ‘So who’d like a drink?’

Gemma didn’t even give me time to close the front door. ‘Sod drinks! Show us the goddamn list.’ She took off up the stairs, her overnight bag hooked over her shoulder, and dragged the others in her wake in a race to be first.

Oh boy
.

‘You guys go on ahead, I’ll catch up.’ The high-pitched squeals started before I’d reached the fourth step, so my snarky comment fell on deaf ears. When I walked into my room, I could see why. All four of them were huddled on my bed, poring over something with rapt, frenzied expressions on their faces, and I doubted very much it was the latest gossip mag that Chloe permanently seemed to carry around with her.

‘Who’s Nathan? Do I know him?’ Gemma asked, without tearing her gaze off the page. Her finger travelled down the list. ‘And what about this Ryan guy? Who’s he?’

‘I know Nathan Harrison from work. He covers the men’s section, so I wouldn’t have thought so,’ I said, sitting on the stool next to my dressing table because there was no room on the bed. ‘And I know Ryan from my track days, but he’s also in Upper Sixth, doing sports science and retaking his maths GCSE. No way is he boyfriend material, not with his reputation. But, wowee, is he
hot
!’

Flick’s eyes glazed over. ‘Oh, I know him. He’s always in the weights room when I go in there,’ she said. ‘I was ready to fall down and worship at his feet until he opened his mouth. All he talks about is sport, but the girls are lining up to go out with him. A few of the guys, too, to be fair.’

I laughed. ‘Yeah that’s him. But it’s not like I’d be going out with him for the stimulating conversation now, is it?’

‘Too true. He could pop my cherry any day, if I still had a cherry, that is,’ Flick said, reaching up to undo her immaculate bun and letting her hair fall down past her shoulders. ‘So long as I didn’t have to talk to him again.’ She gave Gemma a nudge. ‘What d’you reckon, Gemma?’

‘Huh?’ Gemma glanced up at Flick.

‘Earth calling Gemma,’ Flick said. ‘Have you been listening at all?’

‘Er, no … sorry, I got sidetracked by the Nathan bit.’ Gemma shrugged, then switched her attention to me, a huge question mark stamped all over her face. ‘Is he tall, about six foot? Brown spiky hair? Well groomed? Always smells nice?’

Uh-oh
.

I laughed nervously. ‘That just about describes half the guys at college.’

‘The one I’m thinking of goes to uni, and I’m sure I’ve seen him in Topman a few times when I’ve been in there with Ben.’

Double uh-oh
.

The intensity in Gemma’s stare made me squirm.

‘Yeah, it could be the same one.’

‘Excellent.’ A grin spread slowly over Gemma’s face and her eyes twinkled. Another of her harebrained schemes was taking shape. ‘And we only have to wait until tomorrow to find out.’

Triple uh-oh
.

‘Why’s that?’ I asked, falling right into Gemma’s trap.

Gemma’s grin turned into a million-megawatt smile. ‘He’ll be at Jake’s party.’

Argh!

I forced the corners of my mouth up and tried to match Gemma’s jubilant smile but couldn’t make it reach my eyes. ‘That’s great!’

Flick frowned and cocked her head. Her stare alone told me she’d picked up on my slight hesitation, too intuitive for her own good, having read my body language in an instant. She appeared to be the only one—thank God—but then she opened her mouth to call me on it.

No!

I pleaded with her, using only my eyes, and watched her eyebrows change from a dipped V shape to two high arches on her forehead.

‘So what are you going to wear?’ she asked, keeping her voice light, in total contrast to the fierceness in her gaze. She held her glare just long enough to inform me she’d be catching up with me soon. Very soon. ‘It had better be something good.’

What was I supposed to tell her?

‘Oh, by the way, I’ve got a huge crush on Gemma’s big brother but please don’t tell anyone,’
wasn’t exactly doing it for me. Telling somebody would make it real. I couldn’t let that happen. My feelings for Jake were nothing more than a silly fantasy. They’d soon pass. They had to. Didn’t they?

‘I don’t know yet,’ I said, in answer to both of her questions, the spoken and unspoken one. Flick heard me loud and clear and gave me the tiniest of nods.

‘Seeing as we’re here, then, how about throwing us a fashion show?’ she said, trying to distract the others from dissecting the shortlist all night. Damn Flick and her freaky sixth sense. ‘We could help you choose.’

‘That would be great, thanks.’ I couldn’t fault her powers of redirection, though: the shortlist lay forgotten on the quilt as the others tuned into our conversation. ‘But d’you mind if we eat first? I’m starving,’ I lied. The pizza was more likely to get stuck in my throat and choke me.

Ugh, imagine dying a virgin
.

Three Hawaiians, two garlic breads, a portion of potato wedges and a gallon of fizz later, we staggered back to my bedroom.

‘Oh, man …’ Piper clutched her belly and groaned. ‘I am never eating pizza again.’ She flopped backwards onto my bed and sent a piece of paper slithering to the floor.

The shortlist.

Damn it
.

What could I do to distract the girls long enough to hide it?

Flick noticed me staring at the floor and followed my gaze. She took a step closer to the blasted list and my heart leaped into my mouth.

Busted
.

‘It’s all right for you,’ she said, taking another step. ‘I’ve got to try and squeeze into my leotard again tomorrow. Madame would go nuts if she knew how much junk I’d just scoffed. I bet I break out in a load of spots before my exam on Wednesday.’

Madame would have been highly impressed with Flick’s perfectly stretched foot, though, and her agility as she toed the page under my bed, then pirouetted on the newly vacated spot before sinking onto my bed.

Yes, yes, yes
.

She’d done it!

My new wingman—wing
woman
—looked at me and winked, then darted a couple of quick glances to my wall and back. What the …?
Oh!

‘So who’s ready for the fashion show?’ I strode over to my wardrobe and slid the mirror door open to reveal the overstuffed rails and piles of shoe boxes.

‘Whoa!’ Chloe said, her eyes wide. ‘That’s a lot of stuff.’

‘The perils of working in a clothes shop, I guess.’

Chloe edged off my bed and walked over to me, or rather to my wardrobe, arriving at the same time as Gemma. As they stood side by side, the contrast between their expressions was enough to put a natural smile back on my face instead of the fake one I’d been wearing since we got back to my room.

Gemma’s eyes narrowed. She scoured the contents, parting hangers and examining everything. ‘Some of these still have the tags on, Lena. You really need to get out more.’

‘Yeah, thanks for that. Rub it in, why don’t you? We don’t all have social lives like yours, you know.’

Gemma grinned, but then her expression turned serious. She lunged and grabbed a hanger, then spun to face all of us. ‘Now this is gorgeous,’ she said, holding up my black-and-white peplum dress. ‘I vote you try this on first. Who’s with me?’

Everyone raised their hand except me. The odd one out again.

Go figure
.

‘Are you sure?’ I took the dress off Gemma and hooked the hanger over my head, then pressed it against me. ‘Isn’t it a bit too “dressy” for Jake’s party?’

Gemma scowled. ‘Too dressy? Are you kidding me? You’re trying to impress Nathan, remember?’

And Jake
.

‘Oh, yeah …’

‘But,’ Gemma continued, ‘if you’re worried about pulling a Malice—’ our exclusive term for dressing slutty or over the top ‘—you could team it with a pair of opaque tights and some black ballet pumps.’ Ooh, actually, that would cover most of your bruises
and
you’d be able to walk without looking like a cripple.’

‘OK, I’m sold. So that’s option one sorted.’ I unhooked myself from the hanger and laid it on my stool. ‘What’s option two?’

‘It’s a good job we’re here all night,’ Flick said, coming to join the three of us at the wardrobe, whereas Piper was happy to shout instructions from the comfort of my bed. ‘You have too many great things to choose from.’

It descended into something from
Next Top Model
, all of the girls sitting on the bed, with me strutting my stuff in the U shape around the bed. Under instruction to pretend it was a catwalk, I had more fun than I’d expected, happy to parade in one outfit after another, especially if it made them forget about the list.

Exhausted didn’t even begin to describe the wreck formerly known as my body. We’d narrowed it down to four possible outfits, complete with shoes and accessories, by the time Mum and Dad got back. Their return signalled the end of the party—I should make them breakfast in bed as a thank-you or something—so Piper and Chloe took themselves off the spare room with its twin beds. Gemma and Flick were both bunking in with me.

Cosy, but I had a king-sized bed, so it worked out.

Being the piggy in the middle, I couldn’t reach my phone. I listened. Nothing. Either my folks had slept in or it was stupidly early. I turned and closed my eyes but my brain wasn’t playing ball. Then my heart got in on the act, thumping loud enough I feared it would wake Gemma and Flick. Chloe and Piper too if I couldn’t calm down.

What the hell?

And then I remembered: Jake’s birthday.

Yeah, baby!

And I had a day of pampering and beautifying ahead. Showtime was finally here and I was going to knock his socks off.

Buffed, preened and styled to within an inch of my life by my very own makeover queen, I made a mental note never to let Gemma get her hands on me ever again. If she dared to come anywhere near me with wax strips in future, I’d have no choice but to punch her out. What was so wrong about a good old razor, anyway?

All too aware of Jake getting ready in the room next door, I was lucky not to have lockjaw, refusing to cry out as Gemma inflicted the medieval form of torture on me. Evil. Pure evil. I swear my armpits were bleeding, and nobody would be seeing my legs anyway. Any dogs in the vicinity were probably still cowering from the onslaught of my supersonic screams.

At least it was over. There was absolutely nothing more Gemma could do to me. I’d been dismissed to get dressed, but only after promising faithfully that I wouldn’t peek until I was ready, including shoes. I dressed in record time, desperate to take my first proper look at myself, then stepped in front of Gemma’s full-length mirror.

A gold-sequin shift dress had won the battle of the outfits in the end, toned down with black opaque tights and cute gold ballet bumps. Combined with Gemma’s magic, the whole effect was dazzling. She’d piled my hair on top of my head and pinned it in loose tousles, with long strands curling around my neck. Smoky-bronze eyeshadow made my pale brown eyes really pop, enhanced by the light dusting of iridescent blusher on the apple of my cheeks and nude lipstick.

The squeal burst out of me unbidden. ‘Bloody hell!’

‘Fuck,’ Gemma cursed and dropped the mascara wand into her lap. Her reflection glared back at my reflection in some weird hall-of-mirrors trick and then all twenty-seven Gemmas snatched up a tissue to fix the black streak on her eyelid. ‘Don’t do that to me, Lena, you nearly had my eye out.’

‘Sorry.’ I meant it, too, despite the grin that refused to sod off. ‘At least you hadn’t got dressed yet.’

‘Lucky for you,’ she said, picking up the mascara and getting back to her final touches. ‘So what have I done now? You’re not going to chew me out about the eyebrow-plucking thing again, are you? I promise I haven’t made them too thin. You look great.’