French Kiss

by Sarra Manning

  ‘Nah, we were just taking a break,’ explained Shona impatiently. ‘It was all going really quickly. It’s not like you and Dylan. Within two days of Dylan introducing me and Paul we were having a serious thing. And I needed more time to think things through.’

  ‘Before you slept with him, you mean,’ I interrupted.

  Shona shrugged. ‘Well, it’s a big step to take. I wanted to be really sure about Paul before I made that kind of commitment. And he has got a lot of stuff to make up to me before we get to that step again.’

  ‘I guess that makes sense. He doesn’t deserve to get your goodies right away,’ I said. ‘So, what about Mia?’

  ‘What about her?’ snapped Shona. ‘She’s history, she just doesn’t know that she’s history. Yet.’

  ‘But I thought she and Paul…’

  ‘Well, you thought wrong, hon,’ Shona said in a kinder voice. ‘Paul and I were only meant to be having a bit of a breather and, next thing I know, Mia’s telling everyone that we’ve split up because Paul’s in love with her! She can’t resist other girls’ boyfriends. I mean, she never fancied Dylan until he started going out with Lilah.’

  ‘Lilah? That girl who runs the college magazine?’ My heart sank. Lilah was blonde, gorgeous and really, really smart.

  ‘Hey, remember to breathe, now she’s going out with the guy in that stupid band we saw a few weeks ago. What are they called? The Swimsuits…’

  ‘Bikini Dust,’ I muttered. ‘So was Dylan really into her?’

  Shona rolled her eyes. ‘I wish I hadn’t said anything. It was over ages ago and he couldn’t have been that into her or he wouldn’t have started fooling around with Mia.’

  I felt slightly better. ‘I don’t know what they all see in her.’

  ‘She’s got big tits and she puts out,’ Shona said with a wicked smile.

  ‘Shona!’

  ‘Well, it’s true,’ she grinned. ‘So are you cool about me and Paul?’

  I nodded.

  ‘And you’re not going to go up to our room and get depressed about Lilah?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘And are you going to tell me where you got that shocking lovebite from?’

  ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ I shrieked before running back into the hotel.

  Mia was in the room, sifting through her clothes. Sometimes I think that if you added up all the hours that girls spend looking through their wardrobes each year, you’d have enough time to find a solution to global warming.

  I was still hell bent on getting in the bath and I didn’t really want to have anything to do with Mia and I guess she felt the same way too, but I couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. I mean, she was like the poster girl for low self-esteem, hence the constantly chasing after boys, like their approval was the only important thing in her world. And she didn’t know that Paul was about to dump her and, when I thought about it, I realised that she didn’t really have any friends. Then she looked up and sneered at me and I stopped feeling sorry for her.

  When I got out of the bath and wandered into the bedroom with a towel wrapped round me, I was a bit freaked out to see Shona, Nat and Trent perched on the bed.

  ‘You took your time, kid,’ said Shona mock-indignantly, almost knocking me into the wall as she rushed into the bathroom.

  ‘We’re going to a club after dinner,’ Nat informed me. ‘Martyn says that he doesn’t care what we get up to as long as we don’t get arrested by the gendarmerie.’

  ‘I’m never going to get into a club,’ I moaned. ‘I can’t even pass for eighteen.’

  Nat and Trent thought differently. I swear to God, when I’m rich and famous, I’m going to employ them as my stylists. Half an hour later, I was wearing Shona’s long, silky black Chinese dress with the slits up the side, my hair was twisted and pinned up and the glitter on my face made me look all eyes and cheekbones.

  ‘Edie, you are not wearing your Converses,’ protested Trent. ‘I forbid it.’

  ‘No, the Converses are OK,’ insisted Nat. ‘Any other footwear would just be too much.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said pointedly as I pulled on my pink sneakers. ‘Don’t start arguing,’ I added warningly to Trent.

  ‘Dylan is gonna lose it when he sees you,’ exclaimed Shona gleefully, emerging from the bathroom. ‘He won’t know where to put himself.’

  I paused midway through applying another coat of Cherry Bomb lip-stain.

  ‘I’m not dressing up like this for Dylan,’ I protested. ‘It’s so I can get into a nightclub.’

  ‘Yeah, right!’

  ‘Whatever!’

  ‘Yuh-ha!’

  Sometimes I violently dislike my friends.

  Martyn had booked the longest table in the world in this poky French restaurant. I loved it. The walls were covered in leopard skin and had little gold cherubs and red fairylights strung everywhere. Sort of like a distressed fairy grotto.

  Shona was trying to subtly organise the seating (which meant that she told Simon to get up off his arse ‘or I’ll kill you’) so Dylan and I were sitting next to each other and her and Paul were opposite. There was one hairy moment when it looked like Mia was going to foul things up but just as she was about to plant her butt in my seat, Martyn called her over and wanted to know why she’d spent the morning in bed instead of soaking up the Parisian culture.

  Although the table was long, there were a lot of us and it was a bit of a squash. I could feel Dylan looking at me but I felt inexplicably shy and awkward, probably because last time I’d seen him he’d been kissing me into the wall. It might also have had something to do with his leg pressing against me. I re-adjusted the slit in my dress so I wasn’t flashing a large amount of thigh and then started rearranging my cutlery. I always fidget like mad when I get nervous. Luckily, Nat was sitting on the other side of me.

  ‘You’ll have to translate the menu for me, Edie,’ he said plaintively. ‘It’s all in French.’

  ‘I know it’s a crazy notion, but that might have something to do with us being in France,’ Trent pointed out from across the table.

  ‘Do you speak French?’ Dylan suddenly asked me.

  I started to say something idiotic about my French A-level, when I heard Nat hiss at Trent, ‘Only with her tongue!’ and I collapsed into hysterical giggles.

  ‘Are you on crack?’ Dylan enquired, raising one of his eyebrows like I was the most amusing thing he’d seen all year.

  I shook my head. ‘No… It’s nothing, Nat just said something funny.’

  Dylan moved even nearer to me, if that was at all possible. He smelt of lemon verbena and washing powder and it made me feel lightheaded. ‘I thought about you all afternoon,’ he whispered in my ear. ‘I think my heart’s still racing.’

  I knew I was blushing. Did I say blushing? What I actually meant was my face was doing a good impersonation of a pillar box.

  ‘Don’t go all shy on me,’ drawled Dylan. ‘You look really cool tonight. Not that you don’t normally.’ His voice suddenly shifted off the sultry setting. ‘Anyway, can you understand, like, any of the stuff on this menu?’

  I managed to gain control of myself somehow and spent the next fifteen minutes translating the menu. Simon was persuading people to order disgusting stuff like snails and Nat and Trent decided that if people wouldn’t eat it, they’d have to do a dare instead but I stuck with a plain omelette and chips.

  There was a bit of an awkward moment over the drinks. Like, most of the art students are nineteen so they get to drink beer and wine but Tania wasn’t very happy about the idea of Mia and me being near so much alcohol. I told her that Mum and Dad have been letting me drink watered-down wine since I was twelve, and after a little sulking from me and some shouty persuasion from the others she gave in.

  While we waited for our food to come, Dylan talked to me in a low voice about some paintings he’d seen in the Louvre by an artist called Titian. All the time he had his hand on my leg, just above my knee. Not in a sleazy way, but i
t was getting harder to concentrate on what he was saying. His voice was just this pleasing hum in my ear, and his body was turned towards me. It seemed like my whole being was centred on the warmth of his hand on my leg. Then his finger started tracing a path along the edge of the slit in my dress. The very high slit in my dress. I wriggled in my chair and Dylan put his hand back above my knee. I still wasn’t really listening to what he was saying. I took another sip of my unwatery wine – it really had gone straight to my head.

  ‘I want to kiss you so much…’

  ‘What?’ I gasped. Then looked around quickly to see if anyone had heard.

  Dylan gave me a measured look. ‘All I can think about is when I’m going to get to snog you again.’

  I giggled nervously. I can be such a girl at times.

  ‘Have I embarrassed you?’ he said softly.

  ‘Sort of.’

  Dylan shifted in his chair and then put his arm around my shoulders. In front of everyone! And all I wanted to do was rest my head in the warm place where his neck met his shoulder and stay there forever.

  ‘I was just wondering.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I don’t suppose you could, um, go and powder your nose. I could meet you outside the Ladies and then we could have another session. You’re driving me mad.’

  ‘Dylan! Stop it. I thought we were just meant to be friends.’

  He gave me another one of his looks. Really he should patent them; he’d earn a fortune. ‘Yeah, well, we can be friends who kiss each other.’

  I was saved by our food arriving, but I’d lost my appetite. I poked at my omelette with my fork, while everyone else was making a big deal about the snails, which had turned up in this bile-green sauce. It took precisely thirty-seven seconds (I know because I counted them) before Nat started giving out dares.

  Most of the art boys’ forfeits seemed to consist of downing glasses of beer in one. I nibbled on a chip and hoped that no-one would notice me.

  ‘Edie, you can’t have omelette and chips in a French restaurant,’ Simon suddenly announced.

  ‘Yes I can!’ I said indignantly. ‘It’s like a French omelette and French chips. French fries even!’

  ‘Dare! Dare! Dare!’ Nat and Trent started chanting. They were going to be coming home in a jam jar if they kept that up.

  ‘OK, I’ll do a stupid dare,’ I muttered when the chanting got louder. ‘But I’m not downing any alcohol in one. And I’m not doing anything that involves food that I don’t like.’

  ‘Hmmm, that kind of rules out most things,’ said Simon.

  ‘You’ve got to kiss the person sitting on your right,’ Paul suddenly declared to loud cheers from everyone. And, of course, there was something entirely Dylan-shaped sitting on my right.

  I made my sad bunny face at Shona but she just raised her glass at me. After I’d killed Nat and Trent, Shona was next on the list.

  Dylan slouched back on his chair and curled his tongue behind his front teeth. ‘You chicken then?’

  I wasn’t going to let him get away with that. I leaned forward, grabbed his face and gave him a long, slow kiss on the mouth. Dylan’s whole body went rigid but just as he relaxed and opened his mouth, I pulled away to loud applause.

  I glanced at Dylan from under my lashes. He was running an unsteady hand through his hair but when he caught my eye, he licked his lips and looked like he wanted to have me for dessert. It was strangely unsettling.

  The rest of the meal wasn’t so exciting, although from the venomous looks that Mia was shooting in Shona’s direction, I had a horrible feeling it was all going to kick off later.

  Anyway, like Nat had said, Martyn was cool about us going on to a club. Tania wasn’t. She wanted Mia and me to go back to the hotel with her and Martyn. For once, I was with Mia all the way.

  ‘Look, it’s not fair,’ Mia yelled. ‘I go to clubs all the time at home.’

  ‘Me too,’ I added. ‘I’m not going to drink anything, I just want to have a dance.’

  ‘I have a responsibility to your parents,’ said Tania pompously. ‘I can’t let two underage girls wander round dubious nightspots on their own.’

  ‘But we won’t be on our own,’ I pointed out.

  ‘I’ll keep an eye on Edie,’ Shona said. ‘I know her parents and they trust me. I can’t speak for Mia, though.’

  ‘Well, if Edie’s going to a club, then I am too,’ argued Mia.

  ‘Fine,’ said Tania wearily. ‘But I want you back at the hotel by midnight. Don’t make Martyn have to come and get you.’

  ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you,’ I beamed. ‘And I promise I won’t be any trouble.’

  She didn’t seem very convinced.

  We ended up in a club called Les Inrockuptibles. It was small and smoky with scruffy little booths around a tiny dancefloor. Dylan was talking to a group of his art boy buds and occasionally glancing over at me when a genuine French garçon asked me to dance! I stayed on the dancefloor for ages, dancing to Les Beatles and some groovy French stuff from the Sixties. Stéphane introduced me to his friends who spoke bad English to me and I spoke bad French to them, but we seemed to understand each other. Vive la différence!

  Stéphane bought me un Coca-Cola light and I led him over to the booth where Shona and Paul were sitting.

  ‘This is Stéphane,’ I said. ‘He’s French.’

  ‘Hi. Bye,’ shouted Shona over the music. ‘I’m going to the bar.’

  Paul, Stéphane and I were having a slightly stilted three-way conversation about pop music, with me translating for both of them, when Mia sauntered over and slid into the empty space next to Paul.

  ‘I want a word with you,’ she said ominously.

  ‘Um, I thought you might.’ Paul looked extremely uncomfortable.

  I started to tell Stéphane about what was going on with Shona, Paul and Mia while I tried to keep one ear on what Paul and Mia were saying.

  ‘Shona est très triste,’ I was saying. ‘Maintenant, Paul et Shona embrassez, er, beaucoup.’

  Stéphane was looking dead confused; my tenses were going all over the place.

  ‘Look, Mia, you know I’ve always loved Shona,’ I heard Paul say. ‘I’ve never stopped wanting to be with her.’

  ‘All right, all right,’ Mia replied. ‘But I still want to be friends with you, Paul, I really care about you. I don’t want you to get hurt.’

  ‘Mia est une grande vache,’ I told Stéphane.

  Mia got up. ‘You know where to find me if you need me,’ she said sweetly before walking off.

  Paul gave a sigh of relief and looked at me hopefully. ‘That went surprisingly well,’ he commented.

  ‘Yeah, too flaming well,’ I added. ‘She’s up to something.’

  Paul shook his head. ‘I know you and Mia don’t get on but she can be quite caring.’

  I snorted in disbelief, which I realise with hindsight isn’t the nicest noise to make in front of reasonably attractive boys.

  Stéphane touched my arm. ‘Edie, I ’ave to return to my friends,’ he said in his cute French accent. ‘I will see you later for more dancing, yes?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I smiled. ‘I’ll come and find you.’

  ‘I can see you’ve pulled.’ Shona was back with the drinks. ‘How did it go with Mia?’

  ‘Fine,’ said Paul. ‘I told you she’d be cool with it.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ muttered Shona. ‘You can be so dumb sometimes, Paul.’

  I started sliding out of the booth, I didn’t want to have to hear Paul and Shona’s first, post-getting-back-together fight.

  ‘And where do you think you’re going, missy?’ Shona asked. ‘What are you doing chatting up young French men when you’re meant to be besotted with Dylan?’

  ‘Shona!’ I growled. ‘I’m going out with Josh. And I was just practising my French and I am so not, as you charmingly put it, besotted with Dylan. We’re just friends. We’re just doing the friend thing and…’

  ‘Edie, you little fibber! What was that tongue
thing back in the restaurant?’ Paul spluttered. I could see that him and Shona getting back together was not necessarily a good thing. Like, now there’d be two of them ganging up on me.

  ‘I’m not going to dignify that remark with a response,’ I said grandly and flounced off to the toilet.

  The ladies’ toilet was full of foxy French girls being sophisticated and well, French. I fought my way to the mirror and applied some more lip-stain. Usually I’m dead pale but I had a flush to my cheeks from the dancing and my eyes looked huge in my face. I looked quite womanly and as I usually manage to resemble a twelve-year-old, that was really saying something.