‘Hi,’ he said.
‘Hi,’ I whispered.
‘That was a surprise.’
‘Was that okay?’
Guy chuckled affectionately. ‘More than okay. I just . . . had a plan, that’s all.’
‘I know. I’m sorry.’ I was suddenly overcome with the feeling that I’d made a huge mistake.
‘Don’t be sorry. I wanted your first kiss to be perfect. Romantic. Like you wanted.’ He bit his lip and leaned in closer. His hand was on my hip now and he gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘And you know what? I think we nailed it anyway.’
He closed the distance between our faces and, this time, he kissed me. I opened my mouth automatically – I think in shock – and he slipped his tongue in.
Alright. That’s it. I’m gonna stop you there.
Oh come on. The whole story has been building to this.
Katie, literally no one needs to read about tongues. In any context.
Just because you don’t want to –
Why don’t you focus on how you were feeling instead of, you know . . . the mechanics of it all?
How I was feeling? Overwhelmed. And clueless.
After an I-don’t-know-how-long-it-actually-was period of time of our tongues fumbling together (well, it was mainly mine doing the fumbling) (sorry, Libby, but I don’t know how to talk about this without SOME tongues involved), I pulled away again. Guy rested his forehead against mine. All I could see was him.
‘So,’ I panted. ‘That’s a kiss.’
He laughed. ‘That is a kiss.’
At our feet, Max barked. He’d been barking intermittently the whole time – not exactly the soundtrack I’d had in mind for my first kiss. Guy crouched down and finally gave him the attention he was craving.
‘Was I – am I . . . never mind.’ I stepped away and cleared my throat. ‘Should we get to that sketch?’
‘Kate,’ he said as he followed me out of the room. ‘It was perfect.’
I looked over my shoulder and smiled at him.
But something in my gut twisted.
Because I couldn’t shake the niggling feeling that it hadn’t been perfect.
Guy was an excellent kisser, of course – even with my extremely limited experience, I could tell that much. And it had felt nice. Really nice.
But there was something about it that also hadn’t felt quite right.
I tried to ignore the feeling. I was just overthinking the whole situation, as usual.
Apparently my brain could never just let me have nice things.
Guy reclined on the lounge while I set myself up. This was the room with the best light in the house. I was kind of glad we weren’t in my bedroom, especially after what had just happened. It would have been too distracting.
Max curled up at Guy’s feet and sighed contentedly.
‘So. Should I be naked for this?’ Guy said, propping himself up on his elbow.
I nearly dropped my pencil. ‘What?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that not how artists work?’
I stared at the blank page in front of me. ‘That’s life drawing. Um. It’s okay. You won’t be naked in the mural.’ I could feel my face burning up. When I dared to glance at Guy I noticed that his lips were twitching, like he was trying not to smile. I narrowed my eyes. ‘On second thoughts, lose the shirt.’
He burst out laughing but sat up, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off. I almost told him to stop. Almost.
He looked me in the eye as he dropped the shirt to the ground and, I swear, he flexed his pecs. ‘And the shorts?’
‘Hmmm?’ I was barely listening to what he was saying. The sight of his naked chest was . . . absorbing.
‘Should I lose them too?’
I shook my head, trying to focus. ‘Um, no. Keep them on. Definitely keep them on.’
Not that I hadn’t seen it all before. My face heated up again at the memory. ‘Let’s get started, shall we?’ I mumbled.
As I sketched a rough outline, I felt Guy staring at me, in a hot and intense way. My skin prickled.
‘When did you get into art?’ he asked.
‘When I was really young. Mum says I was drawn to it before I could even talk.’ I chuckled. ‘One time I got up before anyone else was out of bed and drew squiggles all over the house in permanent marker.’
‘Your parents allowed that?’
‘Ah, no. They did not. I don’t remember it, actually, but I don’t think they were too happy about it.’
Guy laughed. I began to relax.
‘I do remember a masterpiece I drew on the underside of my grandparents’ coffee table, though. I started it when I was only about five. I drew a house. Then a few years later I remembered it and went back to add to it. I turned it into an abstract drawing of a girl.’
‘Did your grandparents like it?’
I snorted. ‘They didn’t discover it until they were rearranging furniture years later. By then I was twelve. My mum got a phone call one day and all I could hear was the sound of my grandpa yelling down the line, and Mum just looked at me with horror. And I knew they had found it. I’d actually forgotten all about it until then.’ I was laughing now. ‘Mum tried to be mad but I know she thought it was pretty funny. “Guess we need to get you some bigger canvases,” she said.’
‘And now you’ll be doing this painting on your school?’
I sighed. ‘Yeah.’
Guy cocked his head. ‘You don’t sound too happy about it?’
I paused, biting my lip. ‘I’m just so nervous about it.’
‘Why?’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t usually show my work to that many people. I mean, I started an Instagram account, right? For my art. I follow all these artist accounts and they’re just SO talented and incredible . . . in the end I couldn’t bring myself to upload any of my stuff.’
‘Well, maybe you should.’
‘Ha. You want to know the most ridiculous part? One of the reasons I’ve never posted anything is because I’m scared people from school would find it. And now I’m doing a painting that everyone is going to see.’
The spectre of Mikayla Fitzsimmons floated through my head. Even if I painted a masterpiece, I knew she was going to be nasty about it.
‘You said your teacher chose you to do it, correct? I’m sure there was a reason.’
I nodded. ‘You’re right. She believes in me.’ I felt a bit of weight lift off my chest.
‘So what are you worried about?’
I finished sketching the curve of his lips – those lips I had just been kissing – before answering him. ‘Failing. Being judged. I mean, what if it’s terrible?’
‘Impossible.’
I shook my head. ‘Very possible. Believe me.’
‘I’ve seen your work. In your room. It’s wonderful.’
‘You have to say that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Never mind. I’m gonna put on some music, okay? What kind do you like?’
Guy stood up and stretched. ‘I like what Theo plays.’
‘Too much old stuff. What about something from this century?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll like whatever you put on.’
I hit play on my ‘the zone’ playlist, which mostly contained ballads and soft, gentle songs that faded into the background while I was working.
Our conversation petered out after that, but Guy didn’t seem to mind. He continued to stare at me intently as I drew. My heart was pounding but not because of him. Well, not in the way it had been before. It was because of what I was doing. Creating.
I was officially in the zone. My art daze.
Something happens when I create. When I truly focus, I mean. It’s like I can feel my brain switching on, becoming more alive than it is at any other time. I’ve never been high, but it’s kind of what I imagine that feels like.
I think that’s the dopamine.
Dopamine? Like dope?
YOU’RE a dope.
Whate
ver it is, it’s good. Addictive.
Easy to get lost in.
Which is why, I guess, I didn’t hear the car pulling up into the driveway.
Oh my god.
Or the keys in the front door.
Looooooool.
Or Max stirring and jumping down from the lounge.
Hahahahhahahahahhaha.
I was dimly registering Guy sitting up when –
‘What the fu–’
Hahahaaahahahhaahaahahhahahahahaaaaa.
I jumped up at the sound of my brother’s voice and turned to see his shocked face in the doorway.
‘What’s going on here?!’
‘Luke! You’re home early.’
He made a noise of disbelief. ‘Interrupting, am I?’
Guy had stood up by this stage. ‘Hello. I’m Guy.’ He held out his hand for Luke to shake. My brother just stared at it.
‘Guy is, uh, helping me with my mural.’ I grabbed Guy’s shirt and shoved it at him, indicating he should put it on. ‘You know, I’m painting one in the school quad?’
‘Is that what you kids are calling it these days?’ Luke said, looking from Guy to me and back again.
‘Don’t be gross. I was just sketching him. See?’ I bent down to pick up my pad.
‘You’re Kate’s brother? Luke?’ Guy smoothed his hair down, not that he needed to. It fell naturally into the perfect place. ‘I’m so happy to finally meet you.’
Luke had the look on his face he gets when he’s trying to solve one of his Rubik’s cubes. A mixture of confusion and frustration. He looked down to my sketchpad, and Guy followed his gaze.
‘Kate, that’s wonderful!’ he said.
Luke’s head shot up and his eyes narrowed. ‘How exactly do you know my sister again?’
‘Through Theo,’ I said at the same time Guy said, ‘Kate created me.’
‘What?’
‘Sketched him! He means I sketched him.’
Luke chucked the sketchpad down onto the coffee table and crossed his arms. ‘So what exactly are your intentions towards my sister?’
‘Don’t be gross,’ I said, but Guy cheerfully answered.
‘Intentions?’ he said. ‘Well, to love her and take care of her and kiss her and –’
‘We get the picture,’ I cut in, cringing.
‘Is this guy for real?’ Luke was staring. Guy reached out and pinched him. ‘Ow!’
‘Oh, sorry,’ Guy said. ‘I noticed Kate does that when she’s trying to prove something is real.’
Luke was staring again.
‘Is he . . .’ He glanced at me. ‘Is he, er . . .’
‘I’m Kate’s boyfriend.’
If Luke had been drinking something right then, he would have done a spit-take. ‘Boyfriend?’ He looked at me. ‘Really?’
‘Um, yes?’ I said. It sounded unconvincing even to me.
‘Well, then.’ Luke’s face was half-astonishment, half-horror. ‘Does Mum know about this?’
I shook my head rapidly. ‘And you can’t say anything, Luke, please. If you love me at all, you won’t say anything. Please, please, please.’
My brother had never been one to be swayed by my begging.
I’d never seen my mum speechless before.
The silence hung heavily in the room.
I ducked my head, trying to look repentant. I was sitting on the lounge and Mum was standing over me. Luke was behind her, his arms crossed, a smug look on his face. Guy was safely back at Theo’s. I’d sent him off before Mum got home. There was no point in both of us dying tonight.
Luke, on the other hand – if I was going down, he was coming with me. I didn’t know how. I didn’t know when. But I was going to kill him. Wait, I’d torture him first. Then I’d finish him off for good.
I stared at the floor, thinking of all the creative ways I could do the job.
‘Is this true, Katherine?’ Mum said, finally.
‘Which part?’ I mumbled, and regretted it instantly when I glanced at Mum and saw her narrowed eyes.
‘The part where you have a boyfriend.’ Mum’s voice was eerily calm.
‘Yeah.’ I ducked my head again.
‘What about the part where he was here when no one else was home?’
‘Yeah.’ I didn’t think my head could get any lower, but it did.
‘And the part where he was half-naked?!’ Mum’s voice had started to rise now.
My head snapped up. ‘I can explain. It’s not like Luke is making out –’
‘I’m not the one who was making out,’ my brother said sarcastically.
‘Neither was I! I told you, it was for an art thing –’
‘Oh yeah, as if that wasn’t –’
‘Enough!’ Mum cut in.
The screen door banged open and my dad walked in, shucking off his work shoes as he entered. His tired face took on a stunned expression when he saw the scene in front of him.
‘What’s going on?’
Mum sighed. ‘Katherine, would you care to fill your father in?’
I winced. I opened my mouth but my brother beat me to it. ‘Katie’s got a boyfriend!’
I was really going to murder Luke. Then I was going to resurrect him from the dead just so I could kill him all over again.
‘Wait, what?!’ Dad was saying.
‘I can explain, I swear,’ I said.
‘Well. Go on then,’ Mum said. She crossed her arms.
‘What?’ I said.
‘Let’s hear it. Your explanation. Then we’ll decide what to do with you.’
I gulped. ‘Well, see, the thing is, you know how I was chosen to paint a mural in the quad at school?’ I turned to my dad, who had sat down next to me. He still had a baffled look on his face, but he gave me a small smile of encouragement. When I looked at Mum I noticed the corners of her mouth turning white. I pressed on. ‘It’s really special, right? I mean, not many people were chosen. And I thought long and hard about what I was going to paint. And I decided to do a day in the life of a student . . .’
‘Is the point coming? I’ve got an essay to write,’ Luke said.
‘Go write it then,’ Mum snapped. My brother managed to look sheepish.
‘Anyway, so I decided to use Guy – that’s my, er, boyfriend – as my model, and so I needed to sketch him. That’s why he was here today. So I could sketch him. For my school project. It was . . . it was all for school.’ The last bit came out barely above a whisper.
Mum rubbed the space between her eyebrows. Oh no. She had a headache. This was not going to be good for me.
‘It was for school?’ she said.
‘Yep! Totally.’
‘So why was he half-naked?’
I exchanged looks with Dad, but he just raised his eyebrows, waiting for me to answer.
‘Um, for Art? Also, he only had his shirt off.’
‘Oh, is that all?’ Mum said.
‘We weren’t doing anything,’ I said. ‘I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die. Cross my heart and hope to be grounded for life.’ I gave Mum my best, most innocent smile.
She stared at me a moment. ‘You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Katie?’
I shook my head aggressively, trying to ignore the guilty knot in my stomach. Mum had always said, ‘If it’s something you can’t tell your mother about, you know you shouldn’t be doing it.’ I’d been doing a lot of what I probably shouldn’t lately.
‘We’ve always said you’re too young to date,’ Mum said quietly. She looked at Dad. I don’t know what she saw in his face, but I did not expect what she said next. ‘But . . . I suppose that’s not entirely true anymore.’
‘What?’ I said.
‘What?!’ Luke echoed.
‘You’re sixteen now. Perhaps the time has come.’
I stood up, not knowing what to do with myself, not quite believing that this was the turn the conversation had taken.
‘But there will be some ground rules.’
‘Of course!’ I said, bou
ncing on my feet.
‘Is that it?!’ Luke cried.
‘Oh, go do your essay. I’ll deal with you later.’
He looked between Mum and me, disbelief on his face. I stuck my tongue out at him and he shook his head, muttering under his breath as he headed to his room.
As for the ground rules, they were:
1. Guy wasn’t allowed in the house without adult supervision.
2. If we were in my room, the door had to be open at all times.
3. Same rules applied at his house. (I didn’t tell Mum he didn’t actually have a house. I figured she’d had enough shocks for one day.)
4. The relationship couldn’t interfere with my schoolwork (lol).
5. My parents wanted to meet him ASAP.
I hastily agreed to the rules, despite the fact that I couldn’t remember there being so many restrictions when my brother first started dating Mara. But then, considering the way Guy and I had been busted, I felt like I’d got off relatively lightly.
At least until Mum said, ‘Why don’t you invite Guy to ravjul night tomorrow?’
‘Oh no.’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘Don’t you think that’s a bit much, all at once?’
Every few months, my dad’s family got together to make ravjul (which is like ravioli, but bigger and therefore better, obviously) and drink wine and catch up. They took turns hosting it, and this time it was at our place. Mum was suggesting Guy meet literally my whole family in one go. So much for getting out of this lightly.
‘I don’t know, Katie, don’t you think it was a bit much for me to learn all at once that my daughter is not only dating but has had her boyfriend in my house, under my roof, without a shirt on, without my permission –?’
‘Okay, okay, I’ll bring him to ravjul night.’
‘Good,’ Mum said. ‘And just in case the rules haven’t made it clear: you’re still not allowed to have sex until you’re thirty-five.’
‘Mum,’ I said.
‘It’s for your own good,’ Dad said, nudging me. He’d been quiet this whole time. When he said what he said next, though, I wish he’d stayed that way. ‘Honestly, most blokes don’t know what they’re doing before then anyway. It’s not even worth the cost of the condoms.’
Thirteen
Oh god, I can’t take this. My whole body is overcome with second-hand embarrassment.
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