Paradise City (23 page)

Chapter Forty-Three

Time flies when you’re ignoring someone . . . or at least trying to.

With seemingly little drama – a.k.a. no detentions to speak of – aside from a hundred lines of ‘I will not forget to turn up to detention’, no really serious retribution for skipping that Friday’s detention occurred. It was a pretty lenient punishment from the easy-going, softly spoken art teacher, Miss Parker, and it certainly made for a better start to the week. A week that quickly bled into another, and before I knew it weeks had passed and I wasn’t known as the new delinquent kid on the block. Sure enough, even the rumours of Dean and me subsided, helped by Gemma and Boppo hooking up. All was well with the world and I welcomed the change with open arms. I never thought I would be so deliriously happy to have studying for end-of-year exams as my main worry.

I was just enjoying the drama-less aspect of my life, which meant no Dean Saville, and no Wipe Out Bar. I was keeping out of trouble and staying focused, except when Ballantine was anywhere in my eyeline, then all rational, logical thought seemed to fly out of my head. Aside from Dean, and a suspicious Uncle Peter, Laura was the only other soul who knew about Ballantine and me, and therefore the only person I could sigh and share things with, important things like:

‘Did you see Ballantine’s new sunglasses? They really suit him, don’t you think?’

‘Did you see the way Ballantine put Boon in his place about that history assignment?’

‘Did you see how Ballantine shot that empty can in the bin from like fifty metres away, as if it were nothing.’

‘Did you see how Ballantine –’

‘Lexie, shut up!’ Laura snapped one day.

It took me by surprise, and I almost tripped down the path. I blinked down at her.

‘Shut up?’

‘Yes! Please shut up. All we ever talk about is Ballantine. Ballantine parked his car under the shade of a tree; Ballantine smells incredible; Ballantine has the heart of a poet and the grace of an earthbound angel.’

‘Okay, I never said that,’ I corrected.

‘You might as well have. It’s all you talk about. Ballantine, Ballantine, Ballantine!’

I didn’t know what to say. How could I deny it? I probably didn’t speak about much else – okay, anything else, ever – but . . . Oh God, I had turned into one of those girls, the ones that I had always despised. The revelation was not a good one.

Laura took in a calming breath. ‘You know, maybe if you two just acted like normal people who like each other instead of all this bloody cloak-and-dagger stuff then you wouldn’t have to share so much with me.’

‘But it’s going so well, flying under the radar. You’ve seen how Gemma and Boppo have been copping it; they can’t go anywhere or do anything without a running commentary.’

Laura rolled her eyes. ‘It would die down and then something else would come up and you’d be old news.’

‘Yeah, well. No-one has a cousin like Amanda, or an Uncle Peter to deal with.’

‘They probably don’t have a best friend like Laura either who is seriously contemplating climbing a bell tower if we don’t start talking about normal stuff, like what are you wearing to the social next week?’

My eyes lit up; now that was something worthy of discussion. The school social was next Friday, my first social ever, and I could almost jump out of my skin I was so excited. It was going to be a bittersweet way to end the school year. As much as I tried not to think about it the term was drawing to a close. Everything was moving so fast and the Year Twelves were finishing up their last week. Exams were now finished for all seniors so the social was a big deal for more than one reason. It was a funny feeling to be looking forward to and dreading something at the same time. I had never hated being in Year Eleven more and for the life of me I couldn’t think beyond that, to next year, a year with no Ballantine, no Boon, even no Amanda. Every time it popped into my mind I had to quickly shake it from my thoughts.

‘I have no idea. Do you want to go down to Arcadia next week sometime and we’ll go shopping?’

‘What about now? We could hit Priceline and get some fake tan for your legs.’

‘Okay, firstly, I am going to pretend I am not offended by that offer, and secondly, I can’t tonight.’

‘Oh, and pray tell, why not tonight?’

‘I would tell you but you’d probably climb a bell tower,’ I said tilting my head.

‘Don’t tell me you two are doing something normal, or are you wearing disguises?’

‘Nope, we’re not going anywhere public. Ballantine isn’t working so I’m going to watch some movies at his place.’

Laura’s expression darkened. ‘And let me guess . . .’

‘Can you please, please cover for me?’ I clasped my hands under my chin in prayer.

‘Do you promise not to give me the rundown tomorrow about how cute Ballantine was at loading the DVD player?’ she said, curving her brow in amusement.

‘I swear, you will not even know what we watched, what we ate . . . nothing.’

‘Unless it’s sexy in nature, I don’t want to know anything.’

‘Well, you are definitely not knowing any of that,’ I said.

‘Aw, come on, you are so cagey about that stuff. Best friends tell each other everything; come on, how big is he?’

‘Laura!’ I snapped, looking around the suburban tree-lined street we were walking along, hoping there wasn’t a stray grandmother watering her garden within earshot.

‘Come on, I want details!’ She bounced on the balls of her feet alongside me.

‘Well, he’s a great kisser.’

‘And?’

‘And that’s all you’re getting,’ I said with a laugh.

The truth was, after the common room and the occasional stolen make-out session, there had been no sexy times to speak of. We were both hoping to rectify that tonight, and because of the sexy wink Ballantine had given me as he’d passed me going out the school gate, I suddenly felt nervous.

‘Unless you haven’t done the deed there is no excuse not to tell.’

I fell silent, concentrating on the cracks in the pavement as we walked.

‘Oh my God. You haven’t done it?’

‘Laura,’ I warned.

‘You and Ballantine haven’t made the beast with two backs?’ She looked aghast.

‘That’s none of your business.’

‘Listen, Lexie. I’m sorry, I just thought that you, well . . . it’s Ballantine.’

I stopped, spinning around to face her. ‘And what? He’s a horndog surfer who usually beds every girl he sees?’

‘Well, yeah, kind of. Don’t get me wrong. I’m just surprised, that’s all.’

Laura’s words only made me feel worse.

We hadn’t really spoken about sex with each other. Maybe he wasn’t as interested as I thought he was? Why was he waiting? Was I going to end up dying a virgin?

‘Well, how about you stop worrying about it? If you’re not interested in the mundane then don’t sweat it over anything else.’ I stormed ahead, wanting to leave Laura and the conversation behind.

‘Lexie, wait!’ Laura grabbed my arm, pulling me up short.

‘I’m sorry, really. You’re right, it’s none of my business and I have no right to pry.’

I nodded. ‘Okay.’

‘Can I just offer some words of advice? As a friend.’

I let my silence urge her on.

‘I don’t know how things are in Red Hill, but here in PC, things move a lot faster. You know boys will only hold hands for so long, and boys get bored . . . and then the new girl comes along and –’

‘What are you saying? If I don’t seal the deal with Ballantine his eyes might wander elsewhere?’

‘Well, that’s kind of what happened with Lucy Fell.’ Laura cringed.

My blood ran cold, which was a normal reaction to anything to do with Lucy, but to do with Ballantine
and
Lucy, it made my stomach turn as well. I could have guessed from what had happened at the bus stop, and from Lucy’s particular hatred of me that it was because they did share a past. I just wasn’t sure it was a past I needed to know about.

Laura stepped forward, tilting her head to grab my attention. ‘Lexie, you have . . . done it before, right?’

Okay, now I
definitely
wanted to leave this conversation well and truly behind.

‘Look, I’ve got to go and get ready, so I’ll see you later,’ I said quickly, turning and walking fast. I might be able to look Laura in the eye and confess that Ballantine and I hadn’t ‘done it yet’ but I drew the line at telling her I was a virgin. Although, by the way I was running away from her, I was thinking she would have guessed. And now, instead of looking forward to our movie night, I was bloody well dreading it.

Chapter Forty-Four

I’d made up my mind.

After tonight I was no longer going to be a virgin. Ballantine would not get bored with me and I would not be the only freak at Paradise High that still held her V-plates. I had wanted to come here for experiences, and it didn’t get any more real than this.

The warm wind made my eyes water. I had to continually blink my vision clear as I ran down the long concrete footpath, mindful not to scratch myself along the less manicured fence lines where bushes invaded the walkway. For the first time ever, I turned into Ballantine’s street. I steadied into a slower jog, attempting to gather my breath. I paused for a moment, leaning over with my hands on my knees, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. Wow, I was so impossibly unfit; still, the adrenalin that was coursing through my body carried me on and towards a large, two-storey home on the right, with a silver Lexus parked in the drive. Number fourteen. Just like he had said. I had hoped that Ballantine would be waiting out the front for me, but he was nowhere in sight.

Crap!

I crossed the road, making my way towards Ballantine’s house, anxiety growing with each step. Maybe I was pushing my luck? What was I thinking? After the promise I’d made to my uncle about staying away, here I was at Ballantine’s house, under the guise of watching movies with Laura, having raided Amanda’s jewellery box for a condom.

I’m turning back.

I made that decision as soon as I reached the letterbox with number fourteen on it. That was too much of a reality check for me and just as I was about to turn, I felt something grab my arm and pull me into the thick of a bush. I screamed, but only a muffled yelp managed to escape as a hand clamped across my mouth. I struggled against the iron grip, my heart racing, my legs working to kick out as I tried without much success to break free.

‘Lexie, it’s me.’ A voice laughed in my ear, shaking me to my senses. It was then that I felt the grip around my wrists loosen enough for me to spin around to see the darkened silhouette of a figure I would recognise anywhere. I breathed out in relief as I threw my arms around his shoulders and buried my face into the hollow of his neck.

I don’t want him to get bored. I don’t want him to be with anyone but me.

I had one more week until school was over, and then I’d be heading back to Red Hill. I couldn’t even stomach the thought.

He seemed surprised at first by the force that I used to wrap myself around him, but then I slowly felt his arms circle around me, enclosing me in the sweet-smelling warmth of his body. I was so desperate to be in this place, to be in these arms, I never wanted to leave. I was completely happy in the shadows with this boy who I had been enamoured with from the first moment I saw him – also in the shadows. Ironic? As happy as I was, I could still feel a tightness in my chest, a lingering feeling that this was the edge of goodbye. This is why I had come here, this is what had led me into the night, consequences be damned. I had to know, had to experience the very thing that drove me to want to come to Paradise City. The final week of school was like a ticking time bomb; once it was over, what then? I had to give him something that would have him coming back for more.

In such a short time, with the ups, the downs and all the untruths, I had managed to experience so many things, things that both excited me and terrified me. It was the same feeling I had now being in Ballantine’s arms.

‘So what are you doing lurking around my neighbourhood? Stop being so creepy.’

‘Creepy?’

‘Yeah, besides, my bedroom’s upstairs, so there’ll be no knocking on my bedroom window. You’d best leave me to the late-night house calls.’

‘Do you share a room?’ I asked.

‘No.’

‘Well, there you go; I think your upstairs bedroom trumps my downstairs room-share.’

Ballantine tilted his head. ‘Lexie Atkinson, are you trying to get into my bedroom?’

I could feel the heat flush my cheeks as I let my arms fall from him. ‘No! I’m just saying that if I had a choice I would sooner –’

‘Relax,’ he said with a laugh. ‘Do you want to hear something crazy?’ He stepped backwards and led me out of the bushes. ‘At my house, we use the front door.’

•

My anxiety lessened a bit when Ballantine moved towards the back of the house; he almost seemed nervous himself as he paused by the door at the very end of the hallway, giving me a small smile.

We entered a large rumpus room that was designed as a home theatre. With its large, reclining suede couches, an enormous television, a coffee table set up with bowls of popcorn, lollies and chocolate, as far as a secret rendezvous went this was pretty spectacular.

My ear-to-ear grin probably said as much. ‘This is amazing.’

‘You approve?’

‘Ah, yeah!’ I said, making my way across the room to plonk myself onto a seat, then settling into the comfy contours of the soft cushioning, all my worries instantly melting away.

Ballantine appeared beside me. ‘Here, check it out.’ He pulled a lever on the side of my chair that flung my legs up and my body backwards; I squealed at the unexpectedness of it.

‘S–sorry,’ Ballantine said through a fit of laughter, which only added to my giggles as I tried to get over the shock of the Transformer-esque couch.

‘This is dangerous,’ I said, trying to adjust my position. ‘Seriously, you need a licence to drive this thing.’

Ballantine tried to shift the lever and press down on my footrest to get me back into position, but it wasn’t too easy because he was laughing so hard.

‘Well, someone sounds like they’re having a good time,’ came a voice from the doorway.

Ballantine stood, taking his weight from pushing my footrest down; I flung backwards again with a yelp.

‘Oh, shit. Sorry, Lex.’ He grabbed my hand and helped me scramble my way – rather inelegantly – out of the chair, helping me stand to face the voice, the friendly, feminine voice of the bemused-looking woman standing in the doorway with a drink tray.

‘Don’t mind me, I just thought you might be thirsty.’

‘Ah, yeah. Thanks, Mum,’ Ballantine said, rubbing the back of his neck and grimacing. ‘Just, um, put them down there.’

‘Oh, don’t look so worried, Luke, I’m not staying,’ she said with a knowing little smile at her son’s embarrassment.

All I could think of when I looked at Ballantine’s mum was how he must have taken after his dad. She had shoulder-length, blonde hair, with big blue eyes, and a bold shade of red lippy that she was really pulling off. Her skin was fair, and she wore beige Capri pants and a white linen top. She was, in a word, classy.

She placed the clinking tray down next to the popcorn before straightening and turning the full weight of her friendly blues on me. ‘You must be Lexie,’ she said, stepping forward and taking my hand. ‘It’s so lovely to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.’

‘Muuum,’ Ballantine groaned.

‘What? I want to meet the girl who inspires my son to go to school every day.’

Ballantine pinched the bridge of his nose as if summoning strength.

‘For a boy who went from wagging every other day to now having perfect attendance, I am one very happy mother.’

‘Mum, we’ve got to make a start on these movies.’

‘Okay, okay. I’m out of here. Nice to meet you, Lexie.’

‘Nice to meet you, too,’ I said, as Ballantine ushered her to the door.

‘Thanks, Mum.’

She pinched his cheek, deliberately embarrassing him. ‘You’re welcome.’

•

The room was plunged into darkness, true theatre-style. There were even drink holders in the couch . . . drink holders!

So fancy.

The light and movement from the screen danced in front of us, illuminating Ballantine’s transfixed face, which I found myself watching more than the movie. My elbow was pressed next to his on the armrest; the warm skin-to-skin contact did strange things to me. I found it hard to concentrate, and all I could do was think about the hot boy next to me: the rise and fall of his chest, his perfectly proportioned profile, and his ludicrously good-looking bone structure. I could hardly believe I was sitting here with him. Just Ballantine and me.

The couch was great, cosy, comfy, but there was one irritating factor that I caught onto pretty quickly: those fancy drink holders that folded down out of the couch acted as a barrier between us, making that elbow press over time more and more frustrating. It was, like, so close yet so far. And then of course I reminded myself –

Just watch the damn movie, Lexie.

I’d just settled down and resigned myself to the idea that I would at least try to concentrate, when Ballantine moved. ‘Back in a minute,’ he said, leaning over.

He made his way to the door, closing it behind him and leaving me to watch a convoy get blown up after the hero smugly delivered some witty catchphrase. Next movie will be my choice, I thought.
Pretty Woman
or something. It was only fair.

By the time Ballantine returned I was actually starting to understand what was happening in the movie. Some guy had kidnapped the hero’s daughter, hero was pissed off and started to blow things up – surely there was a better way to deal with the situation – but apparently the hero was a trained marine in another life so looked like he just wanted to cut some corners. Fair enough.

Just as it looked like the hero was about to get ambushed by the villain’s henchmen, the screen went black, and the room was plunged into darkness. For a moment I thought the power had gone out, but then I saw the darkened silhouette of Ballantine with the remote control in his hand, then heard him put it on the table.

‘And they all lived happily ever after,’ he said, grabbing for another remote and adjusting the room into a very delicate low light. Moving next to take the drinks out of the holders and place them on the table, he flipped the impressive feature back into place and returned it once more to a couch.

Ballantine sat next to me with no annoying divider between us, just Ballantine and me.