Popping the Cherry (9 page)

He set off towards the house without waiting for Gemma’s reply. Her face was a picture, though. She should think herself lucky my phone was dead, which meant no camera, or she’d have been a sure-fire hit on the Internet. It was only because I was still peeping at her over Jake’s shoulder that I saw it: that trace of something else, a certain tightness around her mouth and a barely-there narrowing of her eyes. She was not amused, looking as if she was ticked off at me, or maybe Jake.

The sound of a car door slamming and running footsteps over the gravel meant she soon caught up with us, making me wonder if she didn’t want to let me and Jake out of her sight. I’d expected Jake to put me down once we got inside the hallway of the house I consider to be my second home, but instead he held onto me, not even slightly out of breath. He carried me through to the sitting room at the back of the house, formerly their playroom, then set me down on the sofa.

Gemma immediately sat beside me and helped strip my coat off, dumping it on the floor next to her. She took hold of my hand, as Jake mumbled something about tea and blankets, then, the moment he was out of earshot, she pounced.

‘I’ve got just one question before he comes back.’
Uh-oh! Here it comes
. ‘I know for a fact you went to a gig with Hayden tonight, so how come you ended up in Jake’s van? With him carrying you around like some sort of damsel in distress? Did Hayden do something? Did he hurt you?’

So much for ‘one question’
. I flicked a glance at her expression to try to gauge her mood, but she looked her normal ‘best friend’ self again, presumably having got over what whatever her problem with me or Jake was.

‘Not really—well, not like that, anyway.’ I stared down at our joined hands. ‘He spent the entire night stoned out of his mind and turned into a right creep.’

‘Sounds like another lucky escape, huh?’

I froze, all except for the hairs on the back of my neck and my arms, which now stood on end. I tried to take a deep breath to calm myself down but it got stuck somewhere between my throat and my lungs, coming out in a strange grunting sound. Gemma looked panic-stricken. Her words had hit me hard, slapping away the last of my brave face, but she had no way of knowing the truth of what she was saying. She slipped off the sofa and knelt in front of me.

‘What is it?’ she asked, taking hold of my other hand as well, so she now held both of mine, her thumbs rubbing across the backs of my hands. ‘What did I say?’

‘It’s OK,’ I choked out. ‘You weren’t to know.’

‘Know what?’ The tone of her voice and the look in her eye pleaded with me to explain. There was a lump to rival Mount Everest in the back of my throat, but I tried my best.

‘Pete, the guy driving the van, was off his head and tried to kill us all. I made him stop the van so I could get out, but then …’ It was no good. I couldn’t say another word even if I’d wanted to, not with the onslaught of a coughing fit, but Gemma refused to be distracted by something as minor as me choking to death.

‘You got out and then …?’

Jake timed his return perfectly. ‘And that’s when two fuckers chased her and scared the goddamn shit out of her,’ he said, his tone filled with hate and aggression.

To hear him cursing as if he were back on the building site only made the whole ordeal even more shocking. Gemma and I exchanged matching glances, both of us stunned by the words that hung in the air. This from the guy who was always so determined to watch his language around us, constantly pulling us up on it if he heard us swearing. His knuckles had turned white around the mug he was carrying, gripping it so hard I was amazed it didn’t smash in his hand.

‘Oh, my God! Is that true?’ Gemma wailed as comprehension dawned, transforming her expression to one of horror.

She burst into life as if a rocket had been lit under her backside and flung herself at me, kind of like in those bodyguard movies, when there’s a shooter somewhere in the room, turning herself into a human shield. I had to clamp down hard on my tongue to stop from yelling at her as she smacked into several of my bruised bits, effectively tackling me and pinning me to the back of the sofa, but I could do nothing about the whimper that escaped.

Jake came to my rescue yet again. ‘Gem, could you get Lena’s phone charging and send a text to her mum, let them know she’s staying here tonight? Maybe make it sound like it’s come from Lena, though.’

‘Sure thing.’ Gemma clambered off me awkwardly and waited expectantly. ‘So where is it?’ she prompted.

‘Oh. It’s in my coat,’ I said, angling my head to where it had been dumped. ‘Left pocket, but I think it might be broken.’

Gemma shoved her hand into the pocket and withdrew my pride and joy. I couldn’t look. My phone was like an extension of me. Even if my folks took pity on me and replaced it, I’d lose all my contacts and photos and stuff.

‘No, it looks fine,’ she said. ‘Open your eyes, Lena, and see for yourself.’

I settled for opening just one, to see Gemma holding out the miraculously unscathed looking touch-screen phone.
Great!
Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for my purple, woollen blazer, which she still clutched in her other hand. I opened my other eye and stared, eyeing the patch of dried blood smeared over the back of it.
Not so great
.

Gemma saw my smile fade and followed my gaze. ‘Oh, no, your beautiful coat.’

Ignoring my body’s protests, I reached up to inspect my head, expecting to find a whopping great hole in it for there to be so much blood. I didn’t find one, though, just a matted clump of hair, a bump, and what felt like little more than a scratch.

‘Head injury,’ Jake said, watching me, with one corner of his mouth turned up. He shrugged. ‘Always messy, even when there’s not much damage.’

I sniffed yet again, refusing to let any more tears spill over, determined not to cry over a coat for chrissakes.

‘If we get it to the dry cleaner’s tomorrow, they might be able to save it?’ Gemma added helpfully, earning an impatient look from Jake.

‘Er … Gem, the phone? Lena’s folks?’

‘Oh, yeah.’ Gemma stuffed my coat around the side of the sofa, where I couldn’t see it any more. ‘I’ll be right back. Don’t do anything without me. OK?’

She dashed out of the room and left the door wide open behind her. Jake took the newly vacated spot on the sofa and we just sat there, listening to Gemma’s thumping footsteps as she ran up the stairs, climbing up and over our heads.

‘How can someone so petite sound like an entire herd of elephants?’ I mused, speaking in a whisper.

‘Tell me about it!’ Jake said, keeping his voice low, too. I turned my head to look at him and watched as he loosened his grip on the mug so he could hand it to me. ‘Hot sweet tea, for the shock.’

Oh, joy
.

‘Thanks.’ I was so busy staring at the mug of revolting tea that I hadn’t noticed he was carrying something else in his other hand until he unclenched his fist to reveal two white tablets, sitting in the palm of his hand, and mercifully still intact. Now that was more like it.

‘Are you OK with ibuprofen?’

I didn’t even deign to answer him, just grabbed the pills with one hand and tossed them into my mouth in the same move.

‘I’ll take that as a yes, then,’ he said, smiling at the mess I was making as I took a big gulp of tea to wash them down.

‘Oops,’ I mumbled, wiping my hand across my chin to catch the drips where I’d missed my mouth a bit.

‘So d’you feel up to speaking to the police now?’ Jake asked, looking all serious again and tying my stomach up in knots. ‘You know, get it over with, like you said to Gemma?’

My stomach wasn’t the only thing in knots. Completely tongue-tied, I settled for a nod. If I kept this up, I’d be like one of those nodding dogs you see in cars, or maybe that dog from the car-insurance commercials. At least I’d already swallowed the pills, or else they’d never have got past the rock in my throat. Jake smiled and gave my knee a squeeze, remembering which was the good one rather than squeezing the one nearer him, then reached behind himself and grabbed the house phone from the wall mount. My nerves faltered with each digit he pressed, watching as he dialled one-oh-one using his index finger.

‘Police please.’ A pause as he waited to be connected. ‘Yes, hello, I’d like to report an attempted attack.’

Despite the hot bath and the milky hot chocolate, the sleep I’d been so desperate for earlier wouldn’t come for me now. Maybe it was for the best. Every time I closed my eyes I was back there, at the bus stop, living out all the different scenarios. Sometimes I got away, but most of the time I didn’t. Molested, raped, murdered—my sick imagination played it all in vivid detail.

Who needed the movies when you had this kind of thing going on inside your own head? The longer I could put off sleep, the better, to be honest. I didn’t even want to think about the nightmares I could be having, not if my waking mind was coming up with all this. Would I even realise it was just a bad dream or would it feel all too real?

It didn’t help knowing the men were still out there, on the loose, possibly preying on some other girl. The police were great: two officers came to the house within twenty minutes of Jake’s call. They took my statement and I gave them the best descriptions I could, but, with so few actual details, all they could do was keep an eye out and alert all the local patrols.

Wide awake, I snuggled further beneath the quilt of the huge double bed, grimacing as I went. Dressed in a pair of Gemma’s baggier pyjamas, I lay there listening to her soft, deep breathing. She’d made me promise to wake her if I needed her, but she sounded so peaceful, I couldn’t do it. Just having her next to me was a huge help. I’d have freaked out by now if I’d been on my own.

When she said I lived here half the time, she wasn’t kidding. I’d been sleeping over a couple of nights a week ever since I was nine. She’d had bunks beds back then though, and we used to take turns sleeping on the top bunk, chatting until sleep claimed us. Gemma and Jake’s house has always been vibrant and chaotic, whereas my house was quiet and ordered, with everything in its place.

Every Christmas I used to ask Santa for a brother or sister, someone to play with or talk to, but it wasn’t to be. My parents had me quite late in life, it turned out, but then we moved house and I met Gemma at school. She soon became the sister I’d always wished for, and it was amazing having her there to play with as soon as I woke up. I was free to just be myself here rather than worrying about how much noise or mess I was making.

Great, now I could add a guilt trip to my day from hell. I shouldn’t be comparing my family with Gemma and Jake’s. My folks are great and I love them loads. They worked bloody hard and I’ve never gone without anything I wanted badly—I mean, come on, who gets a car for their seventeenth birthday, right?—but they’re also a tad … overprotective.

The whole ‘only child’ thing, I guess.

I knew I had to tell them what had happened but I didn’t need a psychology degree to predict their reaction if I hit them with all the gory details. It would mean kissing goodbye to my freedom for starters. Jeez, when did it all get so complicated? Life was so much easier when a kiss from Mum would make it all better, and Dad would chase the monsters away with a golf club.

Back then, my biggest dilemmas were about which game to play, or what sweets or toys Gemma and I could buy if we pooled our pocket money. No amount of Mum’s kisses would work this time though, and even Dad couldn’t chase these particular monsters away.

A part of me yearned to turn back time—only a small part, though. I wouldn’t give up my independence no matter what, and could you imagine having to do school all over again? Ugh! sixth-form college was bad enough. Plus, Gemma and I have spent the last year dreaming about going on holiday together somewhere as soon as we were both eighteen. There’s no way my folks would let me go if they didn’t think I could look after myself.

No, I liked my freedom too much, especially as I’d be able to drive places by myself soon. My current plan was to tell them the bare minimum, keep reassuring them that I was fine. It’s not as if I’d be lying to them exactly: I’d just be drip-feeding the details on more of a ‘need to know’ basis, such as how close it really was, how scared I was and how I don’t think I’ll ever get away from the nightmares.

Speaking of which, there didn’t seem to be much point in lying there wide awake if I wasn’t even going to try to get some sleep. Too much thinking was making my brain hurt as much as the rest of me. I needed to escape for a while, and that meant either
Twilight
or
High School Musical
, or maybe even some classic Disney. Tangled maybe, although not much could beat
Mary Poppins
—a spoonful of sugar and all that malarkey.

I slipped out from under Gemma’s thick duvet, with its huge purple floral print to match the feature wall we’d spent a weekend decorating last year, and forced my aching limbs to move. More painkillers wouldn’t be a bad idea, either. I swear my body actually creaked as I tried to creep down the stairs without making a sound. It was a good job I knew my way around in the dark. Only once I’d reached the back living room, with its door firmly closed, did I risk turning on the light before heading for the bookcase that shelved all the movies.

Gemma and Jake had an awesome collection of films. Gemma had a similar taste to mine, leaning towards the ‘nicer’ films such as
Pretty Woman
,
Dirty Dancing
and, of course,
Twilight
and
High School Musical
. Who could resist Robert Pattinson and Zac Efron? Jake had a bit of a thing for blood and gore like
Evil Dead
, or scary shit like
Paranormal Activity
, as well as sci-fi and superhero tendencies with a load of box sets lined up on the top shelf. Including
The Lord of the Rings
.

Hmm …

I’d already reached for it before I realised what I was doing; but sure, why not? It was one of those movies I’d been meaning to watch for ever but never found the time for, and, now that I held the box set in my hands, I couldn’t think of a reason not to. It wasn’t a romance to rub in my reclaimed single-ness; it wasn’t a creepy stalker-ish thriller to freak me out any more than I already was; and it was pure fantasy and make-believe. And, hey, it had Orlando Bloom in it. Not to mention two more long films guaranteed to last me throughout the rest of the night.