Popping the Cherry (18 page)

While I should probably have been more nervous about meeting Nathan one to one, especially after the ambiguous texts and Jake’s warning, I was actually more worried about whether there was a dress code and making a fool of myself. I didn’t want to text back to ask for specifics: it smacked of rudeness, somehow. So, instead, I needed to think of something versatile, an outfit to suit any scenario, and that was where Gemma came in.

Faced with my predicament of what to wear—or, perhaps more importantly, what
not
to wear—Gemma immediately swung into action. All day long, she’d fired questions at me, both in person and by text, nearly getting my phone confiscated by Madame Clarke in the process. Arriving last to the canteen for lunch, I walked right into a lunchtime committee meeting with Flick, Piper and Chloe—which reminded me far too much of their recent intervention—then Gemma had run me home after college and ransacked my wardrobe. Again. Fast becoming a regular occurrence.

Wednesday evening came around way too fast and the nerves finally hit. If it weren’t for Operation: Popping the Cherry, would I ever have asked Nathan out? Probably not: he was more ‘friend’ material than boyfriend. And, if he did turn out to be a great candidate, could I seriously imagine having sex with him?

Goosebumps erupted over my arms and legs. The heavy sensation in my stomach slithered and twisted, and the more I thought about it, the closer I got to actually throwing up. So not cool. I dashed into the bathroom and washed my cold, clammy hands, then flicked the drops of cold water over my face and stared at myself in the mirror over the basin.

My makeup looked natural, despite the amount Gemma had slapped on, and it covered up the green tinge spreading across my rapidly paling face. At least my outfit was rocking it. Gemma had come up trumps for me again with a midnight-blue silk blouse over a black, glittery, camisole top, tucked into a pair of tailored black trousers with lace-up, mid-heel ankle boots. Depending on the final destination, I could leave the blouse done up, undo a couple of buttons to reveal the camisole or remove the blouse altogether.

In my clutch bag, I had a leather lattice belt that I could add to dress the whole look down, a pair of rollup ballet flats and a foldaway brush so I could let my hair down from its more sophisticated up-do. Basically, I had it covered and it all looked good. At five minutes to seven, I made my way downstairs and into the sitting room, where I could watch for Nathan’s arrival from the window.

‘You look nice, love,’ Mum said, glancing up from her newspaper and looking me up and down. ‘Are you off out with Gemma tonight?’

‘No, Mum, I’m out with Nathan tonight. From work. Remember?’

‘Oh yes, I remember.’ She’d lost some of her enthusiasm. ‘So where are you off to?’

‘I don’t actually know, it’s a surprise.’

Mum’s lips thinned and her gaze locked onto mine. ‘Just be careful, Lena,’ she said, switching into Mum mode. ‘And be back by ten-thirty. It is a school night after all.’

‘Yes, Mum,’ I said, fighting the urge to roll my eyes at her.

Satisfied with my response, she went back to reading the broadsheets folded neatly in her lap, her dismissal oozing either disapproval or disappointment, although why was a complete mystery. It was not as if I hadn’t gone out with a guy before. Admittedly, the last guy had been Damian and we were all still a little
too
aware of what happened then. Maybe that was it. Or maybe it was my going out with a guy who wasn’t Jake that was bothering her, just as it was troubling me.

A dark car pulled up outside, a nifty little Audi TT in the same gun-metal grey as Nathan’s shirt the other night. That same guy climbed out of the driver’s side and turned to look at the house. Even from where I stood, Nathan looked gorgeous, especially when he walked confidently down the driveway, his arms swinging loosely by his sides. It was only a matter of time before he spotted me in the window, so I quickly catalogued his clothes—smart, pale-blue shirt, dark, unbuttoned waistcoat, designer denims and brown-leather shoes—and popped the top three buttons of my blouse open accordingly.

The doorbell sounded, the chime echoing throughout the hallway, and I took a deep breath, attracting Mum’s interest when I blew it out again. ‘I’m sure you have to be getting off, but would you mind inviting Ethan in for a moment, Lena, so I can meet him before you go?’ she asked.

‘It’s Nathan,’ I snapped. ‘And it’s not like “no” is an actual option now, is it?’ My snark earned me some raised eyebrows and pursed lips.
Jeez, chill, Lena, or you can kiss goodbye to your nearly-an-adult status
. ‘I mean, sure thing, Mum,’ I said, with forced brightness before bolting for the door.

‘Hmmm …’ I heard her say as I pulled the front door open wide.

‘Hey, Nathan,’ I said, still injecting the ridiculous bounce into my words and trying not to cringe. ‘Do you mind popping in to say hi to my mum before we go?’

His eyes widened, probably from my OTT performance. ‘Er … sure,’ he said, taken aback. ‘Are you OK, Lena?’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ I said, in a singsong voice that grated on the very last of my nerves. It earned me another set of raised eyebrows before I could turn on my pointy little heel and dart back to the sitting room with Nathan in tow. ‘Mum, this is Nathan. Nathan, this is my mum.’

‘Hello, Mrs Bell, pleased to meet you,’ Nathan said, in a perfect display of manners.

Mum softened straightaway and offered him a much more welcoming smile. ‘Hello, Nathan, I’ve heard a lot about you from Lena. It’s nice to meet you at last,’ she said, sliding the newspaper onto the empty seat beside her.

‘All good, I hope,’ Nathan replied, as if on cue.

‘And on that note we should probably be off,’ I said, before it could get any more embarrassing. ‘Right, Nathan?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Mum said before he could answer. She eased out of her seat and shooed us back towards the front door. ‘Oh to be young again,’ she mumbled. ‘Have a good time. And, Lena, half-ten, don’t forget.’ Suddenly I was outside with Nathan and the door had clicked shut behind us.

‘Umm … sorry about that,’ I said, risking a glance at Nathan to find him looking bemused. ‘They’ve just been a bit weird since the attack.’

‘Perfectly understandable,’ he said. ‘But we really should get going. The table’s booked for half-seven and the traffic’s a beast tonight.’

‘Table?’

‘Oh, shit.’ Nathan stopped dead and spun to face me. ‘I didn’t tell you where we were going, did I?’ His shoulders hunched up towards his ears as he tensed. ‘Please tell me you haven’t eaten already.’

The guy standing before me was pure unadulterated Nathan. My crazy mate from work whom I always had a laugh and a good time with, not potential cherry-popping Nathan. It made all the difference to me and my major megawatt smile broke out over my face. Forget Operation: Popping the Cherry. Tonight was about fun with my male partner-in-crime.

‘No, and no.’ I grabbed his arm and half dragged him towards his car. Nathan relaxed, too, as if he’d felt the switch in me, and he soon got the hang of putting one foot in front of the other again. ‘You can tell me now, though, Hot Stuff?’ I said, really hamming it up.

‘Hot Stuff, huh?’ He lunged and snatched up my hand, then twirled me right there on the pavement beside his car.

‘You’d better believe it.’ I couldn’t actually reach but I did my best to return the twirl. Nathan kindly squatted down to oblige, then pulled a face at me. A couple out walking their dog scooted past us, shooting us with strange looks. Even the dog yapped, which only served to set me off giggling. Nathan, too. ‘Come on, we better get out of here before we upset the neighbours.’

‘Damn it, you mean we haven’t already?’ Nathan let go of my hand and stepped into the road, unlocking the car with the key remote as he walked around to the driver’s side.

‘And who said chivalry was dead?’

‘You’re capable of opening a door, aren’t you?’ he said, hitting me a display of his pearly-white teeth. His head disappeared along with his body as he got into the car, but then the window nearest to me opened.

I squatted down to lean in through the open window and put on my best pouty face. ‘Yes?’

Nathan gunned the engine, making me jump and hit my head on the window frame as well as squeal like a lunatic. He was still grinning and looking smug as he said, ‘If you don’t get in, I’m going to get done for kerb-crawling, and then we’re both going to miss out on the best Italian food in the entire country.’

‘Whoa! Now you’re talking my language.’ I wrenched the door open and launched myself into the sporty bucket seat in one move. Impressive, even if I do say so myself. ‘So where is my new favourite place?’ I asked as I clipped myself in.

Nathan stopped watching me and checked his mirror before pulling away. ‘My mum’s cousin’s husband’s sister runs an amazing Italian restaurant in town.’

‘Your mother’s cousin’s what?’ I moved to run my hand through my hair but stopped before I could destroy my hairdo. My thoughts immediately jumped to Jake again, remembering how his fingers left tracks in his hair, except this time I didn’t feel guilty about it. Yes, I happened to be sitting in a car with Nathan heading off to enjoy a meal, but no way did it have ‘date’ stamped all over it. ‘I think you might have to run that one by me again.’

‘Nah, it doesn’t matter. I probably got it wrong, anyway, but believe me, the food is incredible,’ Nathan changed up through the gears. ‘So tell me about your trip.’

‘Trip? What trip? I haven’t been anywhere.’

‘Really? I could have sworn you were somewhere else a second ago,’ he said. ‘You had that faraway look in your eye, right up until you dropped your hand back into your lap.’

‘Great. That’s just what I need.’

‘What?’

‘Another intuitive know-it-all. You’re as bad as my friend Flick.’

‘Flick?’ Nathan pretended to wince. ‘Did her parents not like her very much? Or was she a really weird-looking baby?’

‘Huh? Oh! Ha-ha, very funny. It’s a nickname, doofus. Her name is Felicity. And that’s exactly the kind of dumb joke she’d come out with too, by the way. I would offer to introduce you but I think the world might self-destruct or something else catastrophic if the two of you ever came together. You know …’ I waved my arms dramatically and shouted, ‘
Boom!
’

Nathan swerved, then yanked the steering wheel to get us back on our side of the road. ‘Shit, don’t do that to me, Lena. I have a nervous disposition.’

‘Oops. Sorry,’ I said, failing to smother my grin.

‘No, I mean it. If I’m going to have an argument with another car, I do not want it to be with a Volvo, especially one driven by an old man who may never recover. Can you imagine this little beauty—’ he stroked the top of the dashboard ‘—wrapped around that brute of a tank?’

‘Yeah, OK. Fair cop. So what’s she called?’

‘Who?’

‘Your car. Come on, I bet you’ve given her a name.’

Nathan flicked a glance at me. ‘Why does it have to be a her?’

‘I dunno. I just thought guys always referred to their car as “she” or is that not the case?’

‘Not always, no.’

‘So …?’

The smile in Nathan’s eyes vanished. ‘Look,’ he said, deadly serious. ‘If we’re going to do this now, I’m going to have to pull over, and that means losing our table.’ He turned his gaze on me again. ‘It’s your call.’

That was when I noticed his hands were shaking as he held onto the wheel in a too-tight grip, an action I recognised straightaway, remembering what, or rather
whom
, I’d been thinking about, and how I’d been feeling, when it had happened to me. ‘You can tell me over dinner.’ I rested my right hand on his forearm and waited for him to look at me again. ‘If you want to.’

Nathan nodded and heaved a sigh. ‘Thanks, Lena.’

Wow, whatever it was, it had to be big. I shifted in my seat, intrigue running through my veins like wildfire, making it impossible to sit still. His weirdness and his ‘Why does it have to be a her?’ combined with Jake’s surprise and subsequent warning played on my mind, prompting ideas I’d never considered. Questions formed on the tip of my tongue and I fidgeted again.

The only thing I could liken it to was the time I’d landed chicken pox back when I was about six, and kept being told not to scratch. As if summoned, my gaze fell on the two tiny scars on the back of my hand. No, willpower had never been my forte, right up there with patience. A zip for my mouth would have been ideal, but I made do with singing along to the songs on the radio for the rest of the journey.

When Nathan drove into the heart of the city centre, I wondered where we were going. I grew even more confused when he ducked down a side street and pulled up in front of a barrier, the type you get in multistorey car parks. He pressed the switch to lower his window, then flashed a white swipe card at the metal post I’d not spotted. The barrier lifted and Nathan drove into a small, private car park, right smack bang in the middle of everything.

‘Woo, we made it with two minutes to spare.’ Nathan released his seatbelt and opened his door to get out, letting in a waft of garlic bread.

My mouth watered. ‘Good, I’m starving.’ I had my seatbelt off and was out of the car before him. ‘Well come on, then,’ I said, tempted to leave him behind and let my nose lead the way.

‘Somebody’s impatient,’ he said, his tone teasing with just a hint of tension in his jaw. My heels clicked across the concrete slabs as Nathan led me around to the front. ‘Welcome to Casa D’Italia,’ he said, pushing the glazed door open.

As I was bombarded with delicious smells, my feet moved on autopilot into the small, intimate-looking restaurant. Welcome indeed. The noise of chatter and laughter filled the room, happy faces everywhere, and every table occupied. Every table bar one.

A lone figure paid attention to our arrival and headed right for us. ‘Nathan!
Ciao
. So pleased you could join us.’ The tall man with a strong Italian accent, sharp eyes, chiselled features and cropped, dark hair pulled Nathan into an tight embrace.

‘
Ciao
, Uncle Tony,’ Nathan said, but the older man’s attention had already fallen on me, so Nathan took a step to one side and introduced me. ‘This is my friend, Lena.’