Popping the Cherry (28 page)

‘I’m not sure.’

Gemma looked down at her hands and picked at her nails. ‘I just want my best friend back, Lena, I’ve really missed you.’

My shoulders slumped and I let out a sigh. ‘Fine.’

Gemma’s head whipped up to look at me, her eyes round and sparkling in the rays of sunlight. ‘You will?’

‘How could I say no when you put it like that?’

‘Yay!’ Gemma clapped then leaped to her feet. She took a running jump and threw her arms around me in a tight hug. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

‘So I’m going as a Goth-girl, then, huh?’

‘Yep. I bet you didn’t know I had black lipstick.’ Gemma got all excited talking about her plans, and I did best to nod and uh-huh in all the right places. ‘Are you even listening to me?’

Oops
.

‘Of course I am,’ I said, forcing myself to focus.

‘No, you’re not. I just told you Ben had invited me away for a weekend and you didn’t even react.’

‘Oh. Sorry. Has he really?’

‘Yeah, and, because I’m eighteen now, Mum and Dad couldn’t really say no.’

‘Wow.’

‘I know.’ Gemma’s happiness filled the room. Pity it wasn’t contagious. ‘I’m guessing you haven’t had breakfast yet, so how about you jump in the shower, and I’ll whiz to Donovan’s?’

‘Sounds good to me. There’s some money on the dresser, seeing as it must be my turn to pay.’

‘Cool.’ She walked away and grabbed the ten-pound note off the side, slipping it into the pocket of her skinny jeans. ‘Now, chop-chop,’ she said, clapping her hands again to spur me into action. Only once I was moving did she head downstairs.

‘Take my keys,’ I called out to her. ‘So you can let yourself back in.’

‘OK. Back in a bit, and then the transformation can begin.’

Gemma closed the front door with a bang. I listened as she drove away, then heaved a deep sigh. Maybe she was right. Maybe I
did
need to get out more, start living again instead of hiding out at home, because that was exactly what I was doing. Hiding. Even Mum and Dad had been pretty keen for me to go with them.
Not bloody likely
. And, if going to a party was all it would take to get Gemma off my back, especially as her Jake antennae were in hyperdrive, then it was a price worth paying.

A shower would do me good, anyway, so I headed to the bathroom and turned on the taps, watching my face disappear in the mirror as the room filled with steam. I reached my hand up to clear the mirror but stopped. Today I just had to pretend to be somebody else. Somebody confident and happy. I could do that. It was only for one night. Unable to see myself in either of the mirrors, I stepped into the shower. The hot water cascaded over me, washing away some of my gloom, but it did nothing to ease the tension out of my shoulders. Gemma made it back before I’d finished shaving my legs. I’d have taken my time regardless if it hadn’t been for the fact I knew my coffee was going cold.

Definitely one of her better plans to make sure I didn’t dawdle.

Finishing up quickly, I wrapped a small towel around my hair, then slipped my fluffy robe over my shoulders and met her in my bedroom, drawn by the delicious scent of pastry and coffee. Gemma worked away on me, doing her thing, and it soon felt like old times as we laughed and joked the day away. Mum had left some meals in the freezer for me, so Gemma and I split the lasagne between us for an early dinner, and then it was time to get into costume. A dab hand at face-painting and applying stage makeup, Gemma transformed herself into the Wicked Witch of the West, complete with green face, fake nose, pointy hat, black smock dress and stripy tights.

She did an equally great number on me, too.

My face was chalk white, my lips black, and I had heavy black eyeliner around my eyes too. Maybe she’d got the idea from Hayden. There was a subtle dusting of grey to accentuate my cheekbones and make my face look gaunt, then Gemma fixed my own hair up with a net before adding the black, long-haired wig, with white streak that apparently glowed in the dark. I wore my black velveteen ‘funeral’ dress, which came down past my knees, teaming it with black fishnets and my lace-up, Victorian-style, black ankle boots, which had a two-inch heel. Around my shoulders, I had a red velveteen cloak, which looked great with the long, black gloves.

It was perfect. I didn’t even look like me any more, which only made my performance easier to pull off. We were still giggling as we left the house and hopped into Gemma’s car. It was silly to take both of our cars, so I offered to drive, but Gemma insisted, rather than have to come and get her car at some point anyway. The party was in full swing when we pulled up outside what looked like a typical student house. We had to park a fair way down the street and walk back, guided by the music blaring out and the Halloween decorations hung from the trees and glowing spookily. At least the surrounding houses were all student lets as well, so we wouldn’t be upsetting the neighbours.

Bottles and glasses were stashed everywhere and the floor was sticky underfoot, topped with the crunch of peanuts and crisps. My parents would have an absolute fit if I’d dared have a party at home like this. I didn’t recognise anyone, but Gemma seemed to know quite a few of them, presumably through Ben, considering that they all seemed to be burly men who looked as if they played rugby. If I didn’t know them, then they didn’t know me either. Nobody pointed and outed me as the loser trying to get her cherry popped, so the night was off to a flying start. It was time to paste on my game face and just go with the flow.

Everybody was drinking and alcohol was freely available, but I stuck to bottled water and watched everybody else getting hammered. I mingled and got chatting, doing all the obligatory social stuff, and noticed that the ratio of guys to girls didn’t match up. What few girls there were soon dwindled as they paired up with the guys, some actually disappearing into the bedrooms. They’d reappear half an hour with the clothes all dishevelled, so it was obvious what they’d been making out.

Maybe I should do that
.

Since Jake was no longer an option, I could lose my virginity to Frankenstein, or Dracula, or maybe even with the guy dressed as a pumpkin. The opportunities were endless and it would certainly solve my cherry-popping problem. I didn’t even need to know the guy’s name. Over the course of the next hour, I saw one girl go off with at least three different guys, including two guys at once, and they all came out strutting and laughing. She even shared a high-five with her friend as if she’d done something cool, whereas the idea made my skin crawl and left me feeling sleazy and unclean.

No nameless one-night-stand for me, then
.

Another guy arrived for the party and this time it was somebody I knew. Better than that, it was somebody off the shortlist. He took a look around the room and then spotted me, so I waved. His lips curved up into a smile and my pulse skittered when he came to join me. Surely it had to be a crime for somebody to look so good when dressed in what appeared to be a bed sheet, wrapped like a toga.

‘All right, Lena,’ he said, by way of greeting as soon as he got close enough for me to hear him.

‘Hey, Ryan.’ I said. ‘Are you sure you’re at the right party?’

‘Hey, a costume’s a costume, right?’ He hit me with a grin. ‘Do you want a drink?’

‘Sure. Surprise me.’ A little extra help in the charade couldn’t hurt, and getting drunk would definitely be out of character for me.

‘Hey, there you are.’ Gemma said, rushing to join me in the main room. ‘Are you ready to leave?’

‘Leave?’ I said, or, more accurately, squeaked. ‘But it’s only ten o’clock.’

‘Ben’s just called. His car won’t start so he’s asked me to go pick him up.’

Typical
.

She’d dragged me to the party kicking and screaming and now that I was finally ready to have a good time she wanted to drag me away again.

‘Oh, right,’ I said, my voice sounding flat. ‘Won’t it take ages to get to him if you have to run me home first?’

‘Problem?’ Ryan asked, returning with the drinks and handing me a shot glass filled with something clear and sickly-sweet-smelling.

Gemma’s eyes widened and she looked him up and down before turning her attention back on me. ‘Obviously you can stay if you really want to,’ she said, darting her eyes towards Ryan. ‘You’d have to make your own way home, though. Have you got enough money for a taxi?’

‘I’ll make sure Lena gets home safely,’ Ryan said. ‘I’ve only just got here, I was kinda hoping to catch up with her. It’s been a while.’

Both Gemma and Ryan stared at me, expectantly, waiting for my answer. What would the new super-confident Lena do?

‘Great, looks like I’m staying,’ I said, raising my glass in the air and chinking it against Ryan’s before draining the contents in one go. Ice-cold peach tantalised my taste buds. ‘Mmmh, that’s nice, but it looks like I’m going to need a refill. Would you mind doing the honours, Ryan, so I can say goodbye to Gemma?’

‘Sure thing.’

Gemma waited until he was out of earshot. ‘So that’s Ryan, then, huh? No wonder you want to stay.’ She grinned and nudged me with her elbow.

‘Gorgeous, isn’t he?’ I said, staring after him. ‘Now quit ogling my next candidate and go and rescue your boyfriend. You have warned Ben that you’re green, haven’t you?’

Gemma laughed and wrapped me in a hug. ‘Good luck.’

‘Nah, I don’t need luck. It’s in the bag.’

‘Just text me when you get in, yeah, no matter what the time?’

‘Sop fussing, I’ll be fine.’

She stepped back and waved her phone at me. ‘Promise me, Lena.’

‘Jeez, OK, I promise,’ I said, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. ‘Now go. Get out of here.’

‘OK, I’m gone. Have fun.’

Oh, I intend to
.

Gemma disappeared out of the front door just as Ryan reappeared with the drinks, and this time he’d brought twice the amount. He handed me two shot glasses and kept two for himself.

‘Cheers,’ I said, lifting the first to my mouth. I knocked it back in one go and followed it with the second.

Peachy goodness slipped down my throat, with just the slightest of aftertastes, letting me know it was alcoholic. It was a blessing that I’d known Ryan for years: it meant we had plenty we could talk about, along with the fallback subject of athletics. I kept up my über-confident façade. I had everybody fooled; hell, I nearly had
myself
fooled. The drinks kept coming, although I had to switch to sour apple shots once the peach stuff ran out, and the scent of wacky backy filled the air, courtesy of the geeky-looking guys sitting on two of the mismatched sofas smoking rollups.

On the brown leatherette sofa, a guy and a girl were getting intimately acquainted, their groans getting louder, clearly having a good time. Watching them get it on right there in full view was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen.

‘Do you mind if we go outside for a minute, Ryan?’ I said. Or at least, that’s what I tried to say, but my words came out slurred. I took a couple of steps towards the patio doors but the movement set off an attack of the woozies and I had to grab hold of some random guy before I toppled over.

‘Whoa, steady there.’ Ryan reached for me and guided me towards an empty dining chair. ‘Why don’t you grab a seat, and I’ll get you a water?’

‘Water?’ I shot him my best disgusted-but-coy look. I think. ‘Are you kidding me?’

‘What do you want, then?’

My gaze drifted back to the couple on the sofa, where the guy was now sucking on the girl’s breast, and his hand was up her skirt.

‘How about a kiss?’ I said, too numb from the alcohol to care how high Ryan’s eyebrows could go.

‘What sort of kiss?’ he asked, bending over to whisper in my ear. ‘One like this?’ He pressed his lips against my cheek.

I looked up at him from beneath my lashes and shook my head.

‘No? How about one like this?’ He tilted my chin up and brushed his lips over mine, just once, so it was over far too soon.

A strange heady sensation had come over me, giving me an injection of confidence. I quirked my eyebrow at Ryan and moistened my lips with the tip of my tongue.

‘Perhaps this sort, then?’ He returned to claim my lips, crushing his mouth against mine. My eyelids fluttered closed and it was a struggle to open them again when the kiss ended. More woozies.

‘Better.’ I shrugged. ‘But not quite what I’m looking for. You’ve got one last go before I throw it open to the other guys to have a go.’

‘Well in that case …’ Ryan didn’t mess about this time. There might not have been the zap that I longed for, but his technique made up for the lack of personal chemistry.

When he finally came up for air I was dizzy and made of jelly rather than skin and bone. My pulse raced, charged with an electrical current that made my skin tingle and my body demand action. The kind of action the couple on the sofa were indulging in. They’d shed even more clothes and I watched, fascinated to see just how far they’d go in front of everyone.

Ryan heard my gasp and turned his head to follow my gaze. A smile played over his lips and he reached for my hand, drawing my thumb into his mouth and running his tongue around it, sucking gently.

Oh boy
.

Flames erupted all over me and a rush of something—endorphins or hormones or neat desire, perhaps—surged through my veins leaving me even more light-headed as tension coiled low in my abdomen. The couple stopped making out and ran past me, laughing as they raced out through the patio doors and into the garden to no doubt finish what they’d started.

What they were doing wasn’t hurting anyone.

I’d been so stupid, waiting for the perfect ‘first time’ experience; it was just a myth, a romantic fantasy, and I’d wasted too much time already when I could have been fooling around and having fun like everybody else.

With a simple, innocent-yet-explosive touch, Ryan had not only convinced me Operation: Popping the Cherry made perfect sense, he’d also proven that he just so happened to be the ideal candidate. It didn’t even have to be a one-night stand, either: there was nothing stopping us hooking up whenever we liked, no strings attached. Win–win all round. But first Miss Goody Two Shoes had to go. And there was no time like the present. I stood and leaned into him, pressing myself against his firm body, and rose up onto my tiptoes so I could reach his ear.