Six Steps to a Girl (10 page)

Take this. Our second date – third, I suppose, if you count the gallery.

We were lying out on the grass (now dry, soft and springy) beside the small pond. Eve was curled up in my arms and I was just chilling out, loving the way her hair smelled all lemony and sneaking the occasional peek at the lacy edge of the bra under her top.

Out of nowhere, she sat up and stretched her arms.

“So how many girls have you been out with?” she said, casually.

Jesus.
I shrugged. “Dunno. A few.”

“What, you can’t remember?” Eve looked scandalised.

I frowned. What the hell was the right thing to say now?

“I guess it depends what you mean by ‘going out’,” I said. “But not many, and no one like you.”

There. That should satisfy her, shouldn’t it?

In your dreams, mate.

“How d’you mean ‘no one like me’?” she said.

“Well, no one who looks like you, for a start.”

“So how did they look?”

“Well, they looked OK, but not . . .”

“So they were pretty then?”

“Yeah, I guess . . .”

“So you’ve been out with lots of very pretty girls?”

“No.”

“But you said . . .”

And on it went.

I couldn’t understand it. Why did she need to ask all these questions? The last thing I wanted to know was how many boys she’d been out with. I had a hard enough time coping with the idea of Ben.

I liked it better when we found out practical stuff about each other, like the music we were into and our home lives. I soon discovered that Eve’s parents were divorced. She lived with her mum and only saw her dad, who ran a hotel in Spain, occasionally. She asked me about my family a few times, telling me how she knew what it was like when your dad wasn’t around. I didn’t say much back – I mean, what was there to say? Eve also told me how everyone in their class reckoned Chloe had got this mysterious new boyfriend.

“We all think he’s someone older. Maybe even a teacher. But she won’t say a word.”

I told Eve how Chloe had been sneaking out of her bedroom window at night, locking her door from the inside. She listened, her beautiful eyes widening into circles.

“God, one of these days she’s going to
get sooo
busted.”

I was more worried by the idea of this older boyfriend. I mean, like I said before, Chloe can look after herself. But still, I hoped she was OK. I knew Chloe would refuse to discuss it with me. I considered saying something to Mum – but only for a second or two. Chloe would never forgive me. And I couldn’t imagine what the atmosphere in the house would be like if she was angry with both of us.

It was the Thursday of half-term. We were lying side by side on Eve’s living-room sofa. Her mum was out and not due back until the evening.

“Maybe the boyfriend’s like a father figure for Chloe,” Eve said.

I ran my hand down the side of her body, into the dip of her waist, then out, over the curve of her hip. “Mmmn?” I said.

Eve wriggled backwards and sat up. She hooked back her hair and pressed her lips together in a determined line. My heart sank. I knew that expression now. It meant she was going to ask me another impossible question.

“Chloe’s boyfriend. You know, I reckon she acts all tough but underneath she’s really unhappy, ’cause of your dad dying. So, maybe she’s gone for someone older because he reminds her of . . . of your dad. What d’you think?”

“Eew.” I made a face.

“Not
literally
like your dad.” Eve rolled her eyes. “But you said they were really close. Maybe she misses him so much that she wants to be with someone more mature, more adult.”

“Yeah, well,” I said, seeing an opportunity to close down the conversation, “there’s no point wondering, is there? I mean we don’t even know if Chloe’s actually got a boyfriend.”

I reached out and tugged gently on Eve’s hair, hoping she would lie back down next to me. But Eve caught my hand and held it.

“Do you miss your dad?” she said.

I stared at her. Even though Eve had tried to get me to talk about him several times, I hadn’t really thought about Dad for weeks. To be honest, him dying still didn’t feel real. It was as if he wasn’t really dead, but had just gone off on some long business trip. He used to do that a lot before he got ill. Sometimes he’d be away for a month and we’d get used to him not being around. And then, suddenly, he’d be back.

I shrugged. “I wasn’t really close to him.”

“But still,” Eve persisted, “you must feel sad that he’s gone?”

How could I explain it to her? I didn’t understand it myself.

“He didn’t really know me,” I said, staring down at the sofa. “And I didn’t know him. You know all he left me was those old records I told you about.” I stopped. An unexpected lump had risen in my throat.

“Maybe he thought you’d like them,” Eve said, gently. “I mean, they were from when he was young.”

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak.

Eve slid down next to me on the sofa and wrapped her arms round my neck. She stared into my eyes. “Maybe they were his way of telling you he loved you.”

There was something so tender about the way she was looking at me that my eyes filled with tears. I blinked them back, embarrassed.

Eve leaned forwards and kissed me on the lips. I kissed her back like she’d showed me. It was perfect. She was perfect.

And then her mobile rang.

Eve reached out to the table beside the sofa and groped for the phone. I didn’t stop kissing her until she’d brought it right up to her mouth.

“Hi,” she said, her eyes still locked onto mine.

It was as if she’d been burned. She jumped away from me and off the sofa.

“Yeah. Right. OK . . . OK,” she said into the phone.

She clutched at her hair, shaking her head at me as I started to get off the sofa and walk towards her.

“No. I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.”

I put my hand out to her shoulder, but she shook it off.
Jesus.
Her hands were shaking.

“OK. Yeah, babe. Me too. See you then.”

I froze.

“Bye . . . yeah . . . bye.”

Eve clicked the phone off and turned to me. Her pale eyes were wide with alarm – and something else . . . excitement? “That was Ben,” she said. “He’s coming back and he wants to see me tomorrow night.”

“Well, tell him no.”

“I can’t,” Eve said. She turned away and walked across the room.

“You mean you won’t,” I snapped. Anger tightened my throat. “He’s a jerk. He doesn’t care about you.”

“You don’t know him,” Eve said.

“I’ve heard him talking about you, saying how he’s going to ‘do you’ on your sixteenth birthday. And how grateful you’re going to be.”

Eve’s eyes narrowed and her normally creamy skin flushed red.

“You’re lying,” she shouted. “You’re just saying that ’cause you’re jealous.” She burst into tears.

I stood there, uncomfortably, my rage evaporating as she sobbed. I didn’t know what else to do, so I walked over and put my arms round her. “I’m sorry,” I said.

I held Eve until she stopped crying and drew back from me. It was amazing. Even with red eyes and smears of black make-up on her cheek, she was more beautiful than any other girl in the world.

I kissed her nose.

“Why can’t I see you both?” Eve sniffed.

I stared at her. My stomach twisted into a knot. I hated the idea of sharing her with anyone. But I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her either.

Eve ran her finger down my cheek.

“I don’t want to stop seeing you,” she whispered.

I could feel myself being pulled into her eyes. Every part of me ached for her.

“OK,” I whispered back.

Nothing else mattered. Only being with Eve.

After four days of spring weather, the temperature dropped to almost freezing on Thursday night. Then on Friday it rained. Eve and I met as usual in the park, but it was grey and wet and miserable and Eve kept complaining she was cold.

We wandered out of the park and up towards the high street. I’d been trying for hours to think of somewhere we could go. I never took Eve back to my place in case Chloe was in, and Eve didn’t want us to go to hers because her mum was home.

Then I remembered the building site. It was set back from the road, on a quiet part of my route to school. The builders were hardly ever there and the place was a total dump – just rubble with a few walls and ceilings. It was supposed to be a development of new flats, but they hadn’t even started building the first floors yet.

It was private. It was dry. And it was empty. Perfect.

I dragged Eve past the no-entry signs and we huddled there for most of the afternoon.

I tried not to think about her going off with Ben that evening, but it kind of overshadowed our last couple of hours. I knew she was thinking about it too. For once there were no impossible questions.

She got up to leave at about five o’clock, promising me she’d meet me in the same place tomorrow morning. I gave her a long, sad kiss, then padded home in the rain, the whole world muffled and distant.

The house was empty when I got in. It didn’t occur to me to wonder where anyone was – I was too wrapped up in my own, numb misery. Chloe crept in through the front door about half an hour later. She jumped when she saw me in the hall.

“God, I thought you were Mum,” she panted, clutching her chest. “I ran all the way. I thought she might have got back early from work.”

I shook my head as she pulled off her wet jacket and shoes and shoved them in the back of the hall cupboard.

“Where’ve you been?” I said.

“Told you,” Chloe said, checking her face in the hall mirror. “Out with a friend.”

“It’s a guy, isn’t it?” I said.

Chloe turned to me, smiling. “How about I keep my secrets and you keep yours. Fair?”

I shrugged, wondering again if she’d guessed about me and Eve. She seemed in quite a good mood and talking to her took my mind off Eve and Ben a bit, so I followed her into the kitchen and sat at the table while she made herself a cup of weak, sugary tea.

“Mmmn,” she said. “It’s pigging freezing out there.” She looked at me. “So, things OK?”

“I guess,” I said.

“God, you are such an emotional retard.” Chloe grinned.

A few weeks ago I’d have been right back at her with some snappy remark. But now my first thought was to wonder if she was right. I mean, it wasn’t like Ben was so emotionally mature or anything, but he was seventeen. He could probably do a way-better imitation of being mature than I could. Maybe that was why Eve didn’t want to give him up.

“D’you think I’m really immature for my age?”

Chloe laughed. “It’s not so much that. More that you don’t notice half of what’s going on under your nose – like the whole thing with Matt and Mum.”

“What thing?” I said.

Chloe nodded. “See. That’s what I mean. You’ve got no idea.”

“What? About Mum and Matt?” I said, still not fully understanding.

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Why d’you think he comes round here all the time?”

I shrugged. “To help out? I dunno.”

Chloe snorted. “Help himself out, you mean. He’s after Mum. You can see it a mile off.”

I stared at her. It was true, Matt did come around a lot. But he was always banging on about being Dad’s best friend. Surely he wouldn’t dream of going after his wife.

“That’s disgusting,” I said. “D’you think she likes him?”

Chloe nodded. “But she feels guilty because of Dad. And he knows she does, so he’s playing it very cool and that’s making her even more interested, and then she knows he knows she’s interested but no one’s saying anything, and it’s all building up and sooner or later he’ll make his move.”

“Has she told you all this?” I asked, bewildered.

“Course not. She only ever talks at me to have a go. But it’s obvious.”

The front door opened.

“Hi guys,” Mum called from the hall.

Chloe put down her mug of tea and moved closer. “Anyway. I’m going out tonight,” she whispered. “I won’t be back till really late, so I want you to do me this favour. If Mum wonders why my door’s locked from the inside again, tell her I had a headache or something and I said I was going to sleep. Don’t forget about my headphones being on, either.”

But Mum was going out herself. She was dead cagey about it too. “Just a drink and a bite to eat with a friend, Luke, sweetheart. You can sort yourself out some tea, can’t you? I’ll be back about eleven.”

She spent ages getting ready – even asked me how she looked when she came downstairs.

“Nice,” I said, suspiciously. God, Chloe was right. Mum was on a bloody date. She left at eight. Chloe slipped out through the front door five minutes later, having locked her bedroom door. I was on my own.

The jealousy kicked in almost immediately. It was like the numb haze of misery lifted and someone stuck a knife in the middle of my chest. My head filled up with these images of Ben and Eve. Kissing. Touching. I knew now that Eve’s birthday was next Friday, and my mind was on fast rewind to Ben’s words back in the burger bar.

It was a kind of torture. I wandered round the house, the images of Ben and Eve forcing their way in front of my eyes.

If I’d known where they’d had gone, I think I might have marched down there and punched Ben hard, until he agreed to leave her alone. Well. That was what I fantasised about doing. In the back of my head I knew I wouldn’t have really done it. I mean, I might have been obsessed with Eve. But I wasn’t stupid.

I paced up and down in my room, getting angrier and angrier. I tried browsing the net, watching TV, listening to music. It was always there in the back of my mind. What was she doing? What was he doing? What was going to happen next?

After a couple of hours I found a half-empty bottle of whisky, left over from Dad’s funeral, at the back of one of the kitchen cupboards. I’d unscrewed the top and was on the verge of taking a swig, when a key sounded in the door. “Hi, guys.” It was Mum.