Some Boy (What's Love? #1) (16 page)

BOOK: Some Boy (What's Love? #1)
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Izzy’s eyes widened. “What happened?” she breathed reverently, always in love with a good story. I almost laughed at her face. But then I sobered quickly as I tried to think where to begin.

“Well, firstly, Damien’s pretty pissed with us. I think we need to do some damage control there.” A frown flickered over Izzy’s face, and she blinked a couple of times. Probably trying to work out what this had to do with Brendan. I flapped my hands. “Anyway, that’s not the point. It just happened last night when I was still here waiting for Brendan at, like, 9.30 or something.”

“He was that late?”

“He never actually came. And his phone wasn’t on. So I went and found him.”

“Found him where?”

“I went to his house.”

“Oh, right,” Izzy said, drawing out the last word as she considered it. She’d made a bowl of cereal and moved to sit at the bench near me, but the bowl sat untouched. “Was he there?”

I nodded, feeling a punch of adrenaline just thinking about the events. And I recounted them, everything I could remember, in graphic detail — my puke into the bushes, his sister, cleaning up the cut, the sex — although that part was abridged. And the earring. I still wasn’t sure what I felt about that. Well, I didn’t think I cared, but that was the confusing part — should I care?

And I asked Izzy the same question. But I’d delivered all this in rapid fire, and she was blinking and shaking her head.
 

“Holy shit. That’s…I had no idea.” She glanced towards the bedrooms again, as if she could see through the walls, and frowned sympathetically. “Poor Brendan.”

“Don’t say that when he’s around.”

“I won’t. But…shit. Why doesn’t he go to the police?”

“It would probably just cause trouble. I don’t know.”

“You think he’ll sell the earring?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it’s a pride thing now—” I cut off as the door opened, but it was Justin who entered, followed by Steph in one of his shirts and no pants.
 

“Morning, love birds,” Izzy cooed, and finally remembered her cereal, digging her spoon in and taking a mouthful. “You guys want to hear a great story,” she mumbled around the food, waggling her eyebrows. I felt a flicker of annoyance. I’d confided it all in her as a friend, not as fodder for gossip. But she didn’t notice my frown. “Tell ‘em, Kat.”

“Tell us what?” Justin asked, pausing by me where I sat on the bench by the window.

Izzy swallowed with a wince, then waved her spoon in our direction. “About her epic un-date.”

“Un-date?” Justin quirked an eyebrow at me. I opened my mouth to play it down, but then saw Brendan’s face over his shoulder. Izzy, who had been watching me, followed my gaze and saw him too.

“Oh my God. Your head,” she exclaimed.

There was still some blood matted in his hair around the cut, and a purpling bruise had formed around it, reaching down past his eyebrow. I had seen it already, but now watching their reactions I realised how shocking it looked.

Brendan’s eyes didn’t leave mine and there was something intense there that I couldn’t interpret across the room. He turned away and let the door bang shut after him, retreating back the way he’d come.

“Way to go, Izzy,” Justin murmured. Her eyes were wide and innocent.

“What? What did I do?”

I ignored them all and dropped off the bench top to run after Brendan, who I found back in my room, picking up his shoes.

“Don’t leave,” I said breathlessly, bursting in. He glanced up at me, but said nothing. Just stuck his foot in his trainer and started tying the laces. “Brendan, don’t do this. Just talk to me. That’s how this works remember — we talk about things, we don’t just leave.”

“I think you’ve done enough talking.”

“What? You mean telling Izzy? I didn’t know she was going to want to blab it to everyone.”

He was pulling on his other shoe, sitting on the edge of the bed and not looking at me. “Why’d you tell her?”

“Because she’s my friend. I wanted to tell someone. She asked me why I was looking so happy, and I told her.”

He paused then, mid-tie, and sat up. “Happy?”

I bit my lip. “Yeah.”

His eyebrow quirked up. “This makes you happy?” He pointed to the side of his face.

“Not what happened to you.” I approached him, and got on my knees between his legs so I could look up at him. “Us. Isn’t that what happened last night? Despite everything — there’s still us. That makes me happy. Sorry if that’s selfish. I know you probably had a shit night—”

Brendan shook his head and caught my face between his hands, crushing me into a kiss. I slid my hands around his waist, under his shirt and leant into him. “You’re a daft git,” he murmured, breaking away and wrapping his arms around me. I rested my cheek against his chest and made a little wounded sound.

“Nice,” I said.

“I stand you up for a date, you walk into my dad trying to kill me and robbing me blind, I tell you I was going to pawn your earrings, and you’re all giddy and happy.”

“It’s good sex, what can I say?”

He laughed into my hair. That wasn’t untrue, but it wasn’t that, or not all of it. He had brought me home and stayed with me, and in between the sex we had talked and laughed half the night. That was the part I hadn’t even told Izzy yet, but that was the part that made me fizz with happiness down to my toes.

I felt Brendan shake his head. “Sorry for almost leaving just then. I’m not used to this.”

“To what?”

“Being a, you know, boyfriend and all.”

I grinned against his chest, then leaned back to look at his face. “It’s okay. I’m not used to being a girlfriend either. I won’t expect much if you don’t.”

“You want, like, the serious talking and shite, though?” His face was deadpan for a moment, and then I saw his lips twitch.
 

“That going to be too much for you? I know you’re all sex, all the time—”

He picked up my pillow and socked me with it. “You’re one to talk,” he said. I huffed indignantly and pushed him back on the bed; he was grinning and bracing as I grabbed the pillow off him. I straddled him to pin him down and lifted the pillow like I was going to whack him. But I threw it away instead and dropped down to kiss him.

“Just can’t help myself around you, obviously,” I said, fingering the hair at his neck while I looked down at him. The teasing grinning morphed into a smile of pure affection, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. I wondered if he was going to say it again, the L word and if I wanted him to or not. I’d held my breath for it all night, any time the mood got intense. But he didn’t.

I ran my fingers lightly over the bruised side of his face and the matted hair.
 

“Come into the shower, I’ll clean you up,” I murmured, then winked. But as we were getting up my phone buzzed on the bedside table. I glanced at it. “Shit, that’s Mum.” I stared at it, but didn’t move.

“You should take it.” I made a noise like a growl in my throat. “You haven’t talked to her since Friday — you should answer.” I scowled at him a bit more, but he was right.

“You get in, I’ll meet you in there after,” I said, climbing off him, and I slapped him on the bum as he got up and turned away. The phone had stopped ringing by then, but I picked it up and sat on the end of my bed, knees tucked up to my chest. Then I took a deep breath and hit redial.

“Katherine.”

“Mother.”

There was a pause. “How are you?” Her voice was hesitant.

“What’s happened?” I felt a sharp edge of panic in my chest. She never spoke so unsurely.

“Nothing. Other than what we already discussed.”

“Oh. What are you calling for then?”

“Just to check on you. Your father and I haven’t heard from you since your little display at the hotel.” Ah, there it was. The motherly condescension that I knew and hated. It felt like a relief, though, because it was familiar, predictable.
 

“I didn’t think there was much more to say. Your lives — your decision.”

“But that doesn’t mean we don’t care.” I would have felt warmed if I hadn’t known by the tone in her voice that something else was coming. “Or that we’ve waived our right to be concerned.”

“Mmhmm?” I said, rolling my eyes to myself. “And what is it that you’re concerned about?”

“Katherine, you know we try not to interfere in your life.” I barely stifled a snort. “So please tell me this boy was just some ill-conceived stunt to annoy us?”

“Working, is it?” I retorted, then bit my tongue. That wasn’t what I meant to say. It was just too easy to bait her.

“Katherine. Please don’t make me have to take this further.” I frowned.

“Take what further?”

“Do you want me to say it outright?”

“Yes. For God’s sake, yes, just say what you mean.”

“We forbid it.”

“You
forbid
it?”

“You must not see that boy anymore.”

“His name is Brendan, and I’ll see him if I want to. What makes you think you can forbid anything?”

“We are still your parents, Katherine. And we pay all your bills. You are still to abide by our rules.” I hated myself for how nervous that made me.

“You don’t even know him, Mum.”

“I know his type, and that is enough. This is not the sort of boy you need.”

My jaw was tight and the hand that was not holding the phone clenched into a fist as I tried to hold back everything I really wanted to say. Instead I stayed silent.

“Katherine?”

“I’m not going to stop seeing him, Mum.” My voice was low and flat, and I felt the twisting anxiety in my gut begin to knot painfully. I knew my parents. I knew the next threat that was going to come out of her mouth before she said it.

“I thought you might say that. Well, if you are choosing to withdraw your obedience, then we may have to withdraw our financial support.”

I breathed heavily out my nostrils. “So where would I live? You’d rather me drop out of uni, than let me see a guy you don’t like? What happened to wanting to make sure I felt secure, huh?”

“Drop out? No — we wouldn’t stop paying for your tuition or your essentials. We’d just limit your credit card use. We’re not monsters, Katherine. Even your father. He might screw
me
out of as much as he can in the divorce, but he’d never leave you dry.” She gave a harsh, humourless laugh. “What do you think of us?”

I shook my head. “Fine, then do it.”

A few beats of silence passed, and my head throbbed.
 

“Katherine, be reasonable. You’re willing to put this rift between us over some boy?” I stood up from the bed abruptly; even though she couldn’t see me, it made me feel like I was standing over her, standing up to her.

“He’s not just
some boy.
I care about him. I’m not going to cow to your ridiculous threats.”

“You
care
about him? Katherine, you’re so young. You might think you know what you feel, but you don’t. Trust me.”

“Why would I trust you on anything to do with love? You and Dad clearly don’t understand it.”

The was a pause, and then her voice came tight and quietly. “Love?” I swallowed.

“Yeah. Maybe. Maybe I am in love with him. I don’t know yet.” I felt strangely close to tears. “I’ve got to go. Do what you have to, Mum, I don’t care anymore.”

I hung up before she could respond. Then I exhaled harshly and threw the phone on the bed. It hit the corner of the mattress, bounced, and tumbled to the floor, face down on the carpet.
 

“Alright?”
 

I looked up sharply; Brendan was standing a few steps away, by the bathroom door. I couldn’t even remember hearing the shower turn on let alone off again, but he was standing there, wet and glistening, with only a towel around his hips.

“Yeah. I don’t know.” How much had he heard?

I stooped to pick up my phone. It hadn’t seemed like a hard fall, but when I turned it over, the glass had a diagonal crack in it, a slash, right across the screen.

“Fucking brilliant.”

“What?”

“It broke.” And then I laughed. And kept laughing, a maniacal sound, standing up to just collapse onto the bed clutching my stomach. Brendan came and sat on the end of the bed, waiting until I’d calmed down and stopped rolling around in painful, hysterical spasms.

“Did I miss the joke?”

I blew out a breath and shook my phone at him. “It’s just ironic. The day I break my phone is the first time in my life I probably can’t afford to buy a new one.”

“Since when can you not afford it?”

I pressed my lips together, lying on my back, and looked up at him. Then sat up and ran my fingers through his wet hair, raking it back from his face. Did I tell him? Hadn’t I just been telling him that this was what a relationship was, the serious talking and all that? But I felt sick just thinking about the conversation with my mum.
 

“It’s nothing.”

“Tell me, Kat.” He was looking at me so intensely that I wondered if he didn’t already know. Maybe he had heard the conversation. But either way, he was waiting for me to say it.

“Mum just threatened to cut off my credit card if I didn’t stop seeing you.”

His face was unnaturally blank for a few moments, then a cloud seemed to pass over him. “What did you say?”

“What do you think I said? I told her to fuck off.” He quirked an eyebrow at me. “Okay, so not in those words. But I told her to do whatever she has to. I don’t care.”

“You kind of do care, though,” he said, watching my face.

“I don’t,” I protested.
 

“You do. You’re shitting yourself.” He grinned and rose to lean over me, pushing me back onto the bed again.
 

“Only a little bit,” I said and bit my lip. He kissed me.

“Poor little Daddy’s girl has lost her money. Might have to live like a pleb like the rest of us.”

“Hey.” But I was grinning then, and writhing has his lips trailed over my collarbone, tickling me. “But seriously, I know this is going to sound awful, but — I don’t know how to live without money.” It wasn’t even going to be completely without money — if they even went through with their threat. They’d still pay my living costs. But I was still shamefully terrified of what the change might mean.

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