Girl Heart Boy: No Such Thing as Forever (Book 1)

by Ali Cronin

  ‘Cass, what’s going on?’ asked Ollie, sitting beside her. ‘Grease Megamix wasn’t the same without you. I did the man bits and everything.’ Cass just shrugged and smiled unhappily. Weird. Ollie and I exchanged confused looks.

  ‘Actually, I think I’ll get a drink too,’ she said. ‘Same again, babe?’ Adam caressed her bum as she stood up, which was apparently code for ‘Yes please’. Jack put down the remains of a giant scotch egg he’d manfully been working his way through.

  ‘I’ll come with you. S’pose I should say hello to people.’

  Adam coughed. ‘Don’t think so, mate … Sit down, babe. I’ll get the drinks.’ He gestured for Jack to go first then followed him with his usual cacked-my-pants swagger.

  ‘Uh, what was that?’ asked Donna.

  Cass looked miserable. ‘Adam’s got a bee in his bonnet about Jack again. He saw me “touch him” earlier, or something.’ She ran her hand through her hair. ‘It’s so silly.’

  Silly was one word for it. ‘Babes, you’ve got to sort this out,’ said Donna. ‘It’s not like you can change the fact you and Jack have known each other forever. How many times have you told Adam there’s never been anything between you?’

  ‘I know. He’s just a bit insecure,’ said Cass. ‘He’ll get over it eventually.’ But she didn’t look convinced.

  At that moment the object of Cass’s blind adoration appeared back at the table, empty-handed. We all immediately and very obviously stopped talking, but he didn’t seem to notice. He took Cass’s coat off the back of her chair and held it out.

  ‘Actually, babe, let’s go. This party’s lame.’

  And without a murmur she put her arms into her coat.

  ‘Bye then,’ said Ash, pointedly. Cass turned back for a moment, smiled apologetically and mouthed, Sorry, then trotted obediently after him, but a few seconds later she was back. ‘He’s just gone to the loo. Tell Jack I’m really sorry for leaving early, will you?’ Before we had time to respond, she’d rushed off again.

  Two hours later, Ash was sucking the face off some cousin of Jack’s, obviously having decided to give DJ Alan a miss; Ollie had hooked up with Jas Mistry, a girl in the year below us, and was nowhere to be seen; Donna, Rich and Jack were doing shots; and I was moping. I wasn’t drunk enough to find the boys and Donna as hilarious as they found each other, and I missed Joe. I was sick of my heart leaping every time my phone made any kind of noise, only to have it break a tiny bit because it wasn’t him. But I wasn’t quite ready to admit defeat. After all, he had a few days left before his deadline was up. Not that he knew that.

  I heaved a hefty sigh. Fun as it was watching Donna, Jack and Rich getting very drunk, I’d had enough. ‘I’m going to make a move,’ I announced, but they weren’t listening. So I left.

  On Joe’s deadline day I kept my phone glued to my hand. There was almost some cosmic rightness in him getting back to me today, just as I’d nearly given up hope. Like a test of my commitment, or something. I know: mental. But I couldn’t believe that the connection we’d had didn’t mean anything. So even as the day came to an end, I remained optimistic. I was almost certain he’d get in touch.

  Then as we were leaving school Donna asked me if I’d heard anything.

  ‘No, but –’

  She interrupted: ‘God, men are dicks.’ She gave me a hug. ‘You gave him every chance, babes … Put this one down to experience.’ As I watched her walk away towards her bus stop, I finally realized it. He was never going to phone me. I’d given up my virginity to a holiday romance. I told myself it didn’t matter. Being a virgin wasn’t anything to be proud, or not proud of. It just was.

  But it did matter. It mattered a lot. I had really, really liked him. Still did.

  I tried anger on for size, aka the Donna and Ashley way, but it didn’t fit. I wasn’t angry with Joe; I was angry with myself for being so bloody gullible.

  Then came self-deprecation. ‘Ha ha, typical! I’m such a doof! Durr!’ *slaps forehead* But that was wrong too.

  So in the end I settled for plain old weeping. Into my pillow, on to Cass’s shoulder, and once, embarrassingly, right in the middle of French. Ollie covered for me, earnestly telling our teacher Monique that he’d told me such an amazing joke I was actually crying with laughter, which made me snort a snot bubble.

  It was a horrible time.

  But then I got the text.

  5

  It was the Friday night after the Monday of the two-week deadline, and we were in The Hobbit: me, Donna and Ashley, Cass, Rich and Jack, and Ollie. And, unfortunately, Adam. He had Cass on his knee, the better to whisper in her ear, in response to which she’d giggle and give him a lily-livered slap. God, it was annoying.

  I was so not in the mood. But the whole night had been organized by the boys as a cheer-up-Sarah event, so I couldn’t cry off to partake in my new hobby, the three Ms of getting over Joe: music channels (extra points for crying at cheesy ballads), microwave chips and moping.

  So I’d put on clean jeans and one of my dad’s shirts, given my eyelashes a couple of half-hearted flicks with the mascara brush, dutifully turned up on time and, as always, was the first one there. I’d parked myself at one of the picnic tables outside, the weather being stupidly warm for late September, and hunched over my watermelon Bacardi Breezer (I only like alcohol if it doesn’t taste of alcohol).

  Usually I loved this table, with the fairy lights in the trees casting everything in a blue glow and the noise from inside reduced to an atmospheric buzz, but all I could think about was my PJs and my bed. And Joe, obviously. He was still rudely trespassing all over my thoughts, with his lovely clean toenails and shapely calves. I growled and shook my head to get rid of the image, handily scaring away a couple of Emos who were about to share my table.

  ‘Hairy McSarey!’ came a voice from behind me. Ollie plonked down next to me, planted a kiss on my cheek and ruffled my hair. From anyone else it would have been irritating.

  ‘Hey,’ I said, forcing a smile.

  ‘Others not here yet?’ he asked.

  I took a breath. Right. Socializing. ‘Nope.’ I looked around. ‘I thought you were coming with Rich and Jack.’

  Ollie drummed two fingers on the table, his knees banging a counterpoint underneath. He’s always been a fidget. In primary school he was forever getting told off for playing with other kids’ hair during carpet time. Maybe that’s why he’s so into music now – playing the guitar and stuff seems to help channel all that nervous energy.

  ‘The others are at the bar,’ he said, closing his eyes and biting his lip in funky concentration as whatever music was playing in his head reached a crescendo.

  ‘So,’ he said suddenly, opening his eyes and putting away the imaginary finger drum kit, ‘How’s the heartache?’

  I picked at the label on my bottle. ‘Oh. You know. Still there.’

  He put his arm round my shoulder and did a hearty man-squeeze. ‘Well, you can forget all about it tonight.’

  I managed a weak smile. He meant well, but Ollie had no idea what I was going through, a one-night stand being a bit too much of a commitment for him.

  ‘Here they are,’ he said, waving Rich and Jack over just as Donna and Ashley appeared, glued to each other as always. Five minutes later, Cass and Adam turned up and our little party was complete.

  Calloo and indeed callay.

  When my phone vibrated I could hardly summon the energy to pick it up.

  ‘Hey, Sarah, you OK?’ frowned Cass, as I opened the text and the colour drained from my face.

  Was I OK? I looked up, a huge smile making my lips crack; it’d been so long. The girls’ eyes widened to Bratz proportions.

  ‘No frickin’ way!’ shouted Donna, grabbing for my phone. I pulled it out of her reach. Cass squealed and did a spot of super-fast girl-clapping. Even Ash was grinning.

  ‘What?’ said Jack, looking confused. Rich and Ollie looked just as vacant. Poor remedial boys.

  Ashley stuck her to
ngue into her bottom lip. ‘Duh! She’s got a text from Joe.’

  ‘Oh shit. Nice one. What does it say?’ asked Jack, trying to seem interested, bless him.

  I opened the text again and held my phone up so the others could read it. They all hunched forward.

  Hi sarah. Am back at uni.

  Must see u! Come this

  weekend? Joe xx

  Cass squealed again. ‘Oh my God, you have to go!’

  I bit my lip. ‘Really? It won’t make me seem, like, easy?’

  Ashley put a fingertip on her chin and cocked her head to one side. ‘Hmm, let me think.’ I rolled my eyes at her. ‘No, he won’t think you’re “easy”,’ she continued, making speech marks in the air, ‘because we aren’t actually living in the nineteen fifties.’

  ‘Yeah, loosen up, lady,’ said Donna. She pointed her beer bottle at me. ‘You want him?’ I gave her a look. ‘Go get him then! Shit, it’s not rocket science.’

  Well, when she put it that way.

  I started to text a reply.

  ‘Whoa, what are you doing?’ demanded Ollie, whipping my phone out of my hand.

  ‘Yeah, you can’t reply now,’ added Rich. ‘He kept you waiting.’

  I looked around the table. Everyone was in agreement, it seemed. Even Adam was nodding sagely. I sighed. ‘Sorry, guys. I’m not into playing games. I always reply to texts straight away. Right?’ Acknowledgement all round. ‘So, if you’ll excuse me, I have an invitation to accept.’ I held my hand out for my phone then turned my back on everyone with a flourish.

  I could imagine the ooh get her looks my friends were exchanging, but I was too excited to care. He’d replied! He, quote, had to see me! Yes, he’d taken nearly three weeks to get in touch, but he’d probably just been busy. Loads to organize before going back to uni, etc. And patience had never been my strong point. I quickly typed:

  Yep why not. I’ll get train

  to Victoria tomoz AM. Text

  me details! Sx

  Talk about emotional rollercoaster. I was high on joy – and feeling like a tiny bit of an idiot for having played the drama queen. I hugged myself with glee and got on with enjoying myself, putting to the back of my mind the small matter of telling my parents that I was going to spend the weekend with Joe.

  I didn’t get home till gone midnight, so it was morning before I had a chance to talk to Mum and Dad. I was showered, dressed and at the table eating my Alpen when Mum came downstairs.

  ‘I thought I heard you up and about,’ she said, planting a kiss on the top of my head. ‘Tea?’

  I grunted assent through a mouthful of muesli mulch. She busied herself with kettle, mugs and teabags for a couple of minutes. ‘So. How are you feeling?’ she finally asked casually. I rolled my eyes. She was desperate for me to stop moping.

  ‘Yeah, good actually,’ I said brightly.

  Mum beamed like I’d given her a present. ‘Excellent! About time you snapped out of the post-holiday malaise.’

  ‘Yeah, well. I’m fine. Thanks.’ I loved my mum, but she could grate on my nerves like a knife squeaking against a plate.

  She gave me another kiss before putting my tea down in front of me. ‘Well, I’m pleased … So. Any plans for the weekend?’

  I was pretty sure she would not be impressed if I told her I was skipping up to London for a weekend love-in. So I lied.

  ‘Ash’s mum’s away so she’s having the girls over for a DVD and pizza weekend.’ I made a show of looking at the time on the microwave. ‘I’ll be off in a minute, actually.’

  I was pretty proud of this little deception. It was wholesome enough for Mum to approve, but the fact that she’s not a huge fan of Ashley’s would ensure she didn’t instantly think I was making it up. Although actually she’d probably have believed whatever I told her. I’d never lied to her or Dad like this before.

  ‘At nine o’clock in the morning? That’s a lot of DVDs.’

  I got up to put my bowl in the dishwasher. I didn’t trust my face not to give me away. ‘We’re spending the day at the beach first. Making the most of this Indian summer.’ I nodded towards the window. Which was covered with a fine mist of drizzle. Huh. Maybe should have thought that one through.

  Still, Mum accepted it. I felt bad for deceiving her, but she wanted to believe I was having fun. And, anyway, my excitement at the thought of seeing Joe outweighed my guilt by about seventeen billion to one.

  I skipped upstairs to grab my bag with a song in my heart and a salsa rhythm in my rudey bits. I had a quick look in the mirror on the landing and beamed at my reflection. Joe Joe Joey Joe! I checked the time on my phone. In three hours, we’d be together.

  But as the train sped through the stations my giddiness gave way to nerves. I’d been so caught up in the joy of Joe I hadn’t thought about the fact that it wouldn’t just be him there but all his uni mates too.

  I chewed my lip and stared at the countryside rolling by. Even the clothes I’d packed seemed wrong. Would all his friends be smoking spliffs and making intellectual jokes? And if the conversation got on to politics – or, let’s face it, any kind of current affairs that didn’t involve TV or celebs – I was screwed.

  At Victoria I joined the mass of people filing through the ticket gates. I pulled my Tube map out of my pocket for the hundredth time. Joe had given me directions and I’d been to London loads, but this was the first time on my own. As soon as I was through the gates I found a space by a cash machine and stopped for a moment to gather myself. I closed my eyes and was halfway through a cleansing in-breath when right in front of me a voice said, ‘This is no time for a nap.’

  I almost died of shock. My eyes pinged open and, before my brain had engaged, I’d given Joe a shove. ‘Bloody hell, you scared the shit out of me!’

  He laughed, revealing those beautiful teeth, and pulled me to him for a proper, full-on, with-tongues pash. A little bit of me felt bad for indulging in such a major PDA. I hate people who get it on in public. But this was different. It was our passionate reunion. I let my body fall into his. His hands and mouth were cold, his suede jacket was rough and warm, and he smelled delicious.

  ‘God, it’s good to see you,’ said Joe into my hair. Then he grabbed my hand, picked up my bag and moved off in the direction of the Tube. ‘C’mon,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘I’m going to splash out on a cab.’

  Extravagant behaviour for a student, but hey – seemed Joe thought I was worth it. The thought made my head spin. I wrapped my happiness round me like a faux fur coat. I was so lucky.

  We kissed all the way to Kensal Green, my leg thrown over Joe’s and his hands entwined in my hair. At his house Joe threw the fare at the driver and practically dragged me through the front door and up the stairs.

  Inside his room he stopped for a moment, holding my chin with his thumb and forefinger and smiling a slow, sexy smile. ‘Sarah Doesn’t-like-beer, I need you in my bed,’ he whispered.

  I knew what he meant. I needed him like breathing.

  Hopping on each foot in turn, Joe pulled his shoes off, then undid his jeans and let them drop to the floor. I’d been staring agog, but the sight of the ridiculous bulge in his pants impelled me to action. As I kicked off my knickers I couldn’t believe I was being so brazen. I hadn’t been naked in front of anyone since I was about ten (I kept my skirt on that time in Spain. Dunno why – it’s just how it happened). But I could hear Ashley’s voice in my head telling me to just go with it. So I did.

  Within seconds we were on Joe’s bed and his hands were everywhere. Even though we’d done it before, I was still in no way sure what I was meant to do, so I just did what felt right.

  But Joe. Oh my God. He knew what he was doing. He worked his way around my body until I was helpless and writhing beneath him. This was so much better than the first time.

  It was like the two of us were at the centre of a whirlwind, with Joe’s hands at the eye of the storm. The intensity built almost unbearably. And then he stopped.

 
; He reached behind him to pull a condom from under his pillow.

  And then we were moving together properly, like it’s supposed to be. I grabbed his bum as he went faster and faster, his eyes shut tight and the muscles in his arms quivering.

  He tensed and shouted out, and suddenly everything was quiet save for the sound of Joe’s heavy breathing, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. The whole world seemed to slow down, like a spinning top coming to rest, and then he opened his eyes. I smiled at him. When we did it in Spain, I’d been worried if it had been OK for him, but this time I knew that it had. How could I not, after that? I was learning – we were learning together how this worked best for us.

  ‘You are amazing,’ he breathed, and he kissed me lightly on the lips before dropping on to the rumpled sheets beside me.

  I lay silently while Joe dozed. The drizzle had cleared and the sun was bathing the room in its afternoon glow. I stretched my leg out from under the duvet and caught a shaft of light, wriggling my toes in the warmth. I looked around the room idly, taking in his posters (Family Guy, Scarface, Avatar), his desk with his laptop and a load of bits of paper, a cheap-looking chest of drawers with a telly on it. Your typical boy’s room, I guessed.

  ‘What time is it?’ mumbled Joe.

  I stroked his hair away from his forehead. ‘I’ll just have a look.’ I got out of bed and padded across the carpet to get my phone from my bag, then hurried back to bed, snuggling in beside him. I pressed the button to bring the screen to life. ‘It’s nearly four.’

  Joe stretched and yawned, then rolling on to his side he took my hand and placed it on his very erect penis. ‘Plenty of time for round two, then.’

  A few hours later, we dragged ourselves out of bed and, after showering off the sweat of the afternoon, got the Tube into central London.

  ‘You look lovely,’ Joe whispered in my ear as we sat next to each other on the train. I smiled at him.