Playing With My Heartstrings (9 page)

"I mean that I did the wrong thing -"

"And what was so wrong about you did? Kissing me was a mistake?" I asked out loud, several people seated across the cafe open-mouthed at my bold statement.

"No, no, it wasn't like that -"

"Explain, then!"

I wasn't messing around with Joel anymore. Not for a single second. For days, I'd been psychically sick with dread about the meeting up with him which would inevitably occur - and my reliable gut instincts had proved me right, much to my bitter disappointment. I wished that Joel could say the words that my ears longed to hear - that he'd accidently forgotten to bring some necessary medicine in his
camouflaged, army-style camping bag or he'd actually gotten lost during a late-night walk in the middle of the domineering forest, which, having regained my use of common sense, seemed too unrealistic.

Anything other than what I was certain that he was on the verge of saying.

"Sadie, I want to let you know that I think you're an amazing girl - lots of guys dream of going out with you -" as if I'd wanted to be given a rollercoaster-soaring compliment before the heart-sinking, pleasantly-worded insult - "- and I had a great time with you during the weekend, but it was wrong for me to k-kiss you," Joel said, his voice wobbling towards the end of the sentence.

"Why?" I wondered. "Surely you'd have to be lying if you didn't feel anything back?"

A second-long flush of guilt flashed across Joel's stony-faced expression, once again proving my suspicions to be precise. He closed his eyes, rocking back and forward in his chair, creating an irritable creak which made my blood boil ferociously.

"Tell me!" I pleaded. "Are you going to admit the truth or not?"

As if he'd been stuck in a paralysing daze, Joel was brought back to life and his eyes flashed open, a blazing fire carefully concealed behind his pupils. "What is there to say?" he asked, his whisper barely audible. I leaned further across the table - my feet almost falling out of my pillar-box red Parisian-style kitten heels - and listened to Joel's next words, my heart literally inside my mouth.

"Sadie," Joel breathed, "I had a great time with you. And before you interrupt me again -" noticing my half-open lips spilling with a sarcastic comment, Joel raised his hand in protest and I lazily sank back down into my chair with the unmistakable aura of an oh-so-disappointed cat, who'd just missed out on the last of the fish "- I need to say that I like you as a friend."

My just-plucked bush of eyebrows raised, temptation nearly lead me to an unstoppable fit of laughter because I couldn't believe the words that my ears were hearing. Joel liked me as a friend? That couldn't have been the truth in the slightest sense. Not at all. A so-called friend (thinking about it, he didn't even deserve to be called a friend) wouldn't offer you a kiss which tasted of all the greatest things in the world - undeniable passion, which set my body alight with a heat that only love could give; sweet, romantic roses that any lover could wish of having; and, most important of all, the pure essence of love, which I genuinely believed that Joel and I shared together. As if.

"You didn't answer my question," I coolly pointed out. "Did you feel the slightest hint of emotion when you kissed me?"

Joel went silent and for all I cared, he looked like he'd stopped breathing, though perhaps that was my imagination trying to find something interesting to focus on. The city workers, whose confident strides in their black, I-mean-business
power suits and four, or even six inch killer heels consistently turned heads across town, had left the stunned-into-silence cafe, only leaving aging pensioners and one or two teenagers of my age squeezed into the miniscule tables, staring sadly at their half-cold cups of tea and bottles of fizzy drinks. As far as I was concerned, I was all alone in a deep, black sea with no way of getting out fully intact.

Unless I took action right at that moment.

"What are you doing?" Joel hazily asked as he noticed my picking up my handbag and cup of lukewarm coffee, my face deliberately turned away from his.

"I'm going home," I grunted, gritting my teeth to prevent saying what was truly floating in my aggravated-beyond-belief mind.

"What? I only just got here!"

"And I've been here long enough, waiting for you to give me some answers as to what happened last week," I said, loudly getting out of my chair.

Joel grabbed my arm, his strong-as-nails grip mightily pinching the skin, and I shrieked in pain, causing a few old ladies to rudely glare at Joel, who realised what he was doing and let go, and I sighed in relief.

"Sadie, I'm sorry -" Joel started, then I cut him off.

"I've got no more time for you, Joel Henderson," I flatly stated, malice creeping into my stone-cold voice. "Whether you've noticed or not, I loved you since we first started primary school and you offered me one of your cookies for lunch because I didn't have any." My voice breaking, I added, "Until now."

Looking awkward, Joel protested for his apology to be accepted, but I waved it off, not caring a single bit about what he had to tell me.

Suddenly becoming aware of the time, I stalked over to the door, a flood of tears on the verge of hitting me any moment, then something reoccurred to me.

"And one last thing." I said, my voice echoing in the deadly-still building - embarrassment flushed across my face as I realised that everybody was listening to my words and I dreaded to think whether any local journalists were part of the mini-audience - "Are you going out with anybody?"

His perfectly concealed mask slipping away, Joel stammered, panic gaining control of his spluttered speech, and that was the answer I'd desperately needed. There was nothing else I wanted to know.

"Oh, see you at school next month," I added, mostly muttering the statement to myself as I steadily opened the door and entered the warm sunshine, clouds as fluffy as whipped cream scattered all over the pale blue sky.

In the midst of a loudly chatting crowd of teenagers, a silent stream awaiting tears - engulfed by powerful waves of sadness and hidden torment - washed over me and I kept my face low so nobody else would witness my public display of uncontrollable emotion. As if I wanted classmates in my year to take unflattering pictures of me and post them on Facebook for the whole world to poke fun about; I'd endured an extended nightmare for long enough.

Audibly sniffing my blocked-like-a-terrible-cold nose, I pulled myself together and gazed at the sky, whose clouds had drifted away to reveal the fantastically bright blue sky beneath and the dazzling illumination from the sun shone on my clothes, as though a spotlight had suddenly highlighted me. Tears, I reminded myself, won't last forever and will disappear within time, while I slowly learn the lesson of gaining some much-wished for patience.

And in spite of my deeply-low mood, I raised a sun-inspired smile, a glow lightening my tear-streamed face to its former happy-go-lucky glory.

Chapter 8

"Hey, haven't you noticed how nice the weather is for once?" Cassie noted, her pale, traditional English rose complexion dazzling like diamonds. "Ah," she sighed, relaxing on the soft red blanket, "I could get used to this."

"Yeah, me too," I said, readjusting my 50s-inspired polka dot hat to avoid the sun burning my highly-sensitive untameable mane of hair.

Cassie and I, whose relationship as fun-loving sisters had grown stronger over the past week, were spending the afternoon lying in the full-on sun in the rose-filled and vegetable-grown garden, eating a homemade picnic which mainly consisted of shop bought scotch eggs, a vibrantly coloured mixed salad, sandwiches and a ridiculously vast amount of Cassie's favourite spread, chocolate heaven Nutella. Well, all I could say was that I wasn't the kid - chocolate-flavoured cereal and spreads had fallen out of my favour long ago.

Cassie picked a scotch egg out of its lacklustre container and threw it into the air, which then - to my utter amazement - landed in her mouth instead of the bee-bestrewn grass.

"Cassandra!" I shrieked. "You don't do that!"

Raising me a devilish grin, Cassie said, "I guess nobody taught you that trick at school, huh?"

I shook my head, amusement beginning to get the better of me. "No, my strict-as-hell maths teacher never gave me a heads-up on how to catch food like an animal," I smirked.

"You must've got the wrong teacher, then," Cassie muttered, laughter spilling out of her.

"Or maybe you attended the wrong school?"

"Yeah, maybe."

Unlike previous occasions, Cassie and I would still bicker about the most stupid things in the world - including throwing crumbling scotch eggs into the air - but a hint of playfulness was apparent, so Mum and Dad were no longer drawn into our petty arguments, which was a major relief. As a hormonal-and-slightly-off-the-rails teen, I was prone to losing my difficult-to-tame temper rather easily and I was propelled further to throw an immature tantrum simply by Dad raising his voice at me and seeming to make a huger deal about the situation than it truly was.

That was sisterhood for me.

Having spent the previous evening writing down my feelings about meeting up with Joel and how he literally admitted to going out with another girl (I couldn't bear to think about who it might have been - one of my party-animal classmates or, mega-gulp, my friends?), Cassie had noticed my subdued mood and decided to cheer me up by devoting the afternoon to some serious girl time and so far she was doing a wonderful job. A few of her dream-to-indulge-on Wispa bars wouldn't go amiss, either.

"Sadie, have you wondered about going out of town this summer?" Cassie asked, this time devouring a scotch egg properly.

"No, not really," I answered. In true honestly, the idea hadn't even crossed my mind. As nearly all of my friends except Tara were holidaying in roasting-hot Spain or exploring the Eiffel Tower or getting involved in riots abroad (thankfully, only one troublesome boy, whom nobody in school would fantasize dating in a million years, had chosen that dangerous idea), I just assumed that I would spending the summer holidays at home, sometimes heading out into the busy centre of town to longingly gaze at a pair of Converse which I can scarcely afford. Sigh.

"Well, one of my friends' sister has just obtained her drivers' license and suggested that all of us could go to Millingbourne later this week," Cassie said, then breathlessly added in an excited rush, "and I was wondering whether you would fancy going."

"Hmm," I mumbled. That sounded like a great plan. Millingbourne was renowned for its fabulous selection of modern, contemporary fashion shops, most of which were teen-friendly, and unlike my full-to-the-tip-of-bursting hometown, Millingbourne was more peaceful and far quieter, yet it didn't mean that there was a lack of thrilling activities to do or beautiful landscapes to see. A faint memory of visiting the town when I was around seven suddenly struck me and I remembered racing by myself into the large, New York-style pack, much to Mum's despair.

Also, the town was near the seaside, so I could make an effort to drag my once-worn Special K lookalike red swimsuit to paddle in the typically chilly water. Perfect.

"Sure, why not?" I eventually said, which caused Cassie to squeal with elation.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Cassie trilled, her voice a high-pitched squeak. "You'll definitely get along with my friends, won't you?"

As the realisation of having to sit in the same car with several other One Direction-obsessed thirteen year olds who didn't truly comprehend the difficulties that Year 10 students experienced in maths for at least two hours hit me, my smiling-like-I'd-just-got-a-Chanel-handbag expression turned crest-fallen and panic set in, wondering what I'd have to do to keep myself sane.

Somehow managing to read my thoughts, Cassie kindly reassured me that none of her friends - who apparently had laid their eyes on another so-called hunky, upcoming boy band - wouldn't make me feel left out and I could even bring my iPod into the car, if I really wanted to.