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Kisses for Lula

Page 9

by Samantha Mackintosh


  I turned to go, then stopped. ‘Pen,’ I said quietly. ‘Thanks for today.’

  She glanced at me quickly, then stared down at the paint splatter on her fingernails. ‘It’s been fun,’ she said, then looked up at me with a quick grin.

  I smiled back. ‘Yes, but I know you’ve got an ulterior motive, haven’t you?’

  Pen’s grin got bigger. ‘I have. But you’d better start getting ready. It’s six p.m.’

  That bath was truly sublime, even though my stomach was in knots, twisting in terrible anxiety about dinner and a movie with Ben Latter. Sure, I felt comforted that I wouldn’t be alone. I knew I liked Mona. And Arnold would help, wouldn’t he? Though he had said he wanted to look good with me as a foil. My thoughts wandered. Who had suggested Steak City? Ew. Did Arnold know I was vegetarian?

  ‘Time’s up!’ called Pen. She nudged the door open a few centimetres and put a glass of something thick and cold on the floor. ‘That’s to give you energy.’

  I pulled the plug out with a regretful sigh and got towelling. The smoothie was . . . interesting. I emerged, gurgling up the last few drops. Pen held out her hand for the glass.

  ‘Your outfits are in your boudoir,’ she said.

  ‘Whoa! Outfits? Pen, what do you want?’

  Pen sighed. ‘Look, it’s got nothing to do with you. I just needed to get a little further away from Blue’s yodelling and Dad’s snoring, okay?’

  ‘Don’t lie to me,’ I said, narrowing my eyes.

  ‘Okay, fine!’ said Pen. ‘You need to kiss someone, Lula, anyone. Please! I’m your sister, and your stupid jinx problem is already becoming my problem! Jason Ferman stared at me really weirdly the other day, and I just know he thinks I’m also –’

  ‘Hey! Jason Ferman is a freak. He was prob–’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about this!’ yelled Pen.

  I stared at her aghast. She looked really upset.

  ‘Pen, I –’

  ‘Don’t,’ she said. ‘Just get dressed. You don’t have much time.’

  I went into my room and stared at the outfits laid out on the bed.

  ‘Oh, Pen. Thanks. They’re perfect.’

  She came up behind me and spoke in a small voice. ‘I’m sorry I yelled.’

  I sighed. ‘I totally understand. I wouldn’t want to be infected with my reputation either. Thanks for these.’ I gestured at all the clothing, wondering what Ben would find irresistible, and hating myself for caring.

  ‘No problem. Mum’s just helping me move my bed. I’ll be back at quarter to, to show you and your penthouse off.’

  I nodded and headed for my hairdryer. Once I’d got the style sorted I lashed on as much mascara as possible, and carefully stroked some dark shadow on to my lids, a little colour on my cheeks and shimmery gloss on my lips.

  Then I picked up the flimsy camisole doubtfully. Pen had miraculously found matching undies, though not much of a priority there – what hope had I of clothing removal when kissing was still an issue? She’d put out my favourite jeans and a pretty beaded lilac cardigan of hers that I’d always coveted.

  I was just putting my shoes on when a knock came at the door. I opened it with a flourish.

  ‘You look amazing, Lu,’ said Pen. ‘I knew that cami would work.’

  Boodle the Poodle suddenly barked from the garden. It sounded like she was at the front gate.

  ‘Arnold’s here,’ I said, smoothing down the cardigan nervously.

  ‘Okay, Lula,’ said Pen solemnly. ‘Remember that if Ben Latter doesn’t kiss you, you’ll just have to kiss him. Even if it’s against his will.’

  I looked at Arns over the table of flickering candles. He looked good. It didn’t make me feel any better.

  ‘When did they say they’d get here?’

  ‘Calm down. They’re just a few minutes late.’

  ‘I’m not sure I can do this. The smell of sizzling flesh is making me feel ill.’

  ‘Protein is an essential part of the human diet.’

  ‘Not animal protein.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re vegetarian. Is this a soapbox of yours?’ Arnold raised his eyebrows.

  I looked at them closely.

  ‘Has Elsa been plucking?’

  Arns blushed furiously.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said, ‘didn’t mean to embarrass you. You look great.’

  ‘Er . . .’ said Arnold, then, ‘Hi, Mona!’ and, ‘You must be Ben!’ he added, springing up in relief.

  Mona didn’t say anything, just slid into the booth next to Arnold. I think she was smiling so hard her lips couldn’t move to form words.

  Whoa!

  She really, really liked him! I could tell by the way her eyes were kind of lit up, the way she sat close, but not too close, definitely not touching, and the fact that she didn’t seem able to speak. I could tell because, staring up at the perfection of Ben Latter, I felt the same way.

  He was wearing a pale blue shirt with a collar that buttoned down and very dark blue jeans that hung beneath the heels of expensive brown shoes. Not trainers, not boots, shoes. The trendy kind that cost a lot from exclusive shops. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled about twice up from the cuffs and the tanned smoothness of his forearms made me flush. Could he see that I wanted to touch him?

  Frik!

  I bit my bottom lip, willing myself to stop grinning like a loon. Though his blond fringe flipped low over his forehead I could still see his eyes. They were a darker blue than I remembered, and they were looking at me.

  Ben sat down next to Mona. I felt my cheeks burn. He didn’t even want to sit next to me. Cringe! This was going to be too terribly dreadful for words. He wasn’t smiling – just gazing at me intently. ‘So . . . you’re Spenser Bird’s daughter?’ he mused.

  ‘Uh . . . yes.’ I gestured at the three of them sitting in a row opposite me and laughed nervously. ‘Is this an inquisition?’

  Awkward silence.

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ he said unapologetically. ‘It’s just . . . you look familiar. You look like the library lady’s kid.’ He stood slowly and came to sit on my side.

  It was official. I was a beet on a body. Purple complexion, features morphed into one big purple round purple purple thing that was very purple. The boy I had lusted after for ten years – The One, The Love Of My Life – barely knew who I was. Worse! I’d been reduced to The Library Lady’s Kid, like some brat with a snotty nose.

  I looked at Arns.

  He looked at Mona.

  Mona looked at him.

  I coughed.

  ‘I am the library lady’s kid,’ I said.

  ‘Of course!’ Ben slapped his perfect forehead. I jumped. ‘Dr Bird, Spenser Bird – your mum and dad? This town is sooo incestuous.’

  Incestuous? My brow furrowed. I could feel it wrinkling away and quickly assumed a you’re so unbelievably clever and interesting expression.

  ‘Ye-es,’ I said, though my parents were married, not related. ‘How’d you know about my dad? Have you read his poetry?’

  ‘Oh, uh.’ Ben picked up a fork and put it down again. ‘Doesn’t everyone know of Spenser Bird? Songwriter to the stars?’

  ‘Oh,’ I said. I leaned back in the booth, wishing it would swallow me up. In London, in New York, maybe even LA, sure, Dad was wined and dined. But people in our town knew Dad for his academic status – I liked it that way. ‘What’s your favourite Spenser Bird song, then?’ I asked hesitantly.

  Ben looked at me for a long moment. Arnold and Mona were laughing together at something on the menu and I hated them for being so happy with each other when I felt so vulnerable. Suddenly I didn’t care about the jinx any more. I just wanted to get away.

  ‘I want to talk about you, Tallulah,’ said Ben, ‘not your father.’

  Our eyes met.

  And suddenly I got it. I got what a world of poets and musicians and artists and, mainly, Alex had been banging on about forever. It was a slam to the chest, a prickling of the skin all over, a blush from s
plit ends to toenails, a high of unbelievable proportions. What a rush to have all that gorgeousness focused entirely on me. Me, people! Me! Meee! Me! I saw him all over again: the blond hair that curved perfectly over his forehead, bluest of blue eyes under chiselled brow over chiselled cheekbones over chiselled jaw. The straightest nose. And lips – I admit to you now I couldn’t tear my eyes from his lips. But I must have because when I saw his smile it was in the tiny crinkles at the corners of his eyes before it hit the world’s best toothpaste ad unfolding beneath.

  In the instant of his grin I knew I had to have him. Nooo – not in the rampant I’ve got to lose my virginity game, rather in the hi this is my boyfriend Ben whom I kiss all the time constantly mine mine mine kind of game.

  I blinked.

  Ben was saying something. He stopped, waiting for a reply.

  ‘Pardon?’ I said.

  He looked at me closely. ‘You didn’t hear me?’

  ‘Sorry. A million miles away.’ I tore my gaze from his face and reached for the jug of water in the middle of the table. It was too heavy to show the trembling of my hands. I hefted it towards Ben’s glass. ‘Water?’

  Arnold’s voice spluttered into my consciousness. ‘Sorry, Tallulah. I should have got that.’ He lifted the jug out of my grasp and filled all our glasses, then lifted his in a toast.

  ‘To Boodle the Poodle.’

  Mona and I laughed. We knew what he meant, and it was sweet. Mona kissed him on the cheek and they sat staring at each other. Wow! Had she just, like, made the first move? I mean, sure, it’s only a kiss on the cheek, but still! I didn’t know where to look until Ben cleared his throat and said, ‘Boodle?’

  I glanced up into his face and I suddenly felt with a thudding heart that this – Ben Latter with Tallulah Bird, a childish dream – was real. This incredible boy and me, sitting side by side, candlelight dancing over our faces . . . And not only was it real, but I felt like I belonged in it. He really and truly seemed interested in me.

  ‘Boodle,’ I said slowly, ‘is my very big and hairy bodyguard.’

  Ben’s eyes widened. ‘Wow, your dad must be bigger news tha– Oh –’ He stopped. ‘Ha ha, very funny. You don’t have a bodyguard.’

  ‘I like the fact you thought I did. Even if it was just for a millisecond.’ I smiled sweetly.

  He smiled back. ‘Couldn’t help it. You look like a famous person.’

  ‘As in, here she is checking into the Priory?’

  ‘As in, here she is checking out of the Priory.’

  ‘Oh, ha ha to you too, mister.’ I laughed.

  ‘You talking rehab already, Ben?’ asked Mona with a teasing grin. She looked at me and rolled her eyes. ‘Ben is a chemical freak,’ she continued. I glanced at Ben. His eyebrows had drawn together and he shifted uneasily. ‘Always talking about what this or that compound can do for a person. He’s been banging on about how he’s going to wow everyone with his big paper at the opener to the Science Fair on Monday.’

  My eyes were fixed on Ben. His beautiful mouth had pulled into a strange line that I didn’t like, even though I wanted to. Mona’s voice droned on – ‘. . . latest thing is . . . addiction . . . always out . . . Fort Norland like the back of his hand . . .’ I wished I could look back at her, but I was transfixed by the marring of the lips, how very red Ben’s face had become. He was furious.

  ‘But I think that’s great,’ I said desperately. ‘Scientific research – must be so exciting. Helping addicts.’

  ‘It is great,’ said Mona. ‘Don’t be cross with me, Ben. Someone’s got to tell Tallulah how fantastic you are.’

  Ben smiled uncomfortably.

  ‘So . . .’ said Arns. ‘Everything ready for your big exposé next Monday, then?’

  ‘Just about,’ said Ben shortly.

  We sat in silence. Arns coughed.

  ‘Just going to the bathroom,’ said Mona, and she slid out of the booth and disappeared.

  ‘Well, you obviously don’t want to talk about it,’ I said brightly, turning to Ben, ‘but I think it is amazing that you’re doing something so relevant.’ Ben looked at me blankly. ‘Did Mona say you do work at Fort Norland? Community projects with drug addiction.’ I waved my arms enthusiastically. ‘That’s what you’re involved in, right? Drugs?’

  Ben pursed his lips. The scary line was gone. ‘Absolutely,’ he said, his skin colour returning to normal. ‘It is important. Narcotics ruin too many people’s lives.’ He lifted his glass for a few gulps. ‘I don’t like talking about it – all very confidential. Sorry if I sound like some kind of boring dogooder. Most people would rather I was an interesting bad guy, but that’s just not who I am.’ He fiddled with his fork self-consciously. I had a strong urge to kiss him sweetly on the cheek and pat his shoulder. Okay, that’s a lie. I wanted to jump his bones.

  Then Arns said, ‘Don’t worry, Lula’s one of the good guys.’ He winked at me as he took a drink from his glass and I thought, Noo, Arns! Me being one of the guys is not helpful right now.

  ‘Good, maybe,’ said Ben. His smile made my heart jump out of my chest. (Seriously. My entire left breast moved.) ‘But absolutely not one of the guys.’ His eyes ran the length of my body and my whole self blushed.

  Ben put his hand on my forearm as he lifted the water jug and my heart did its little samba dance again.

  ‘Another drink?’ he asked, leaning closer.

  Chapter Twelve

  Wednesday night, Steak City

  ‘Absolutely delicious,’ said Ben, between mouthfuls.

  I wondered if he’d say that after his lips had met mine. Stop it! I told myself. Focus!

  Smiling at him, I pushed a crouton to the side. (No way I was going to risk trying to spear one of those little bullets. There’d be an incident and Dr McCabe would be involved for sure.)

  ‘Tell me what it’s like having a famous father. I bet you have to study his poems in English class.’

  ‘It’s not like that. He’s not a big celebrity. But I’m really proud of him,’ I said defensively.

  Putting his hands up, palms facing out, Ben leaned back and said, ‘Absolutely! Absolutely! But, you know, creative temperaments . . .’ He took another drink. ‘Is your mum the calming influence?’

  ‘Mum’s very organised,’ I said. ‘But she’s creative too.’

  His eyes crinkled in a smile again and I wondered suddenly if he could see how much I liked him just from looking at me. I shot a look over at Arns and Mona, who were talking quietly together.

  ‘So you’re the eye of the storm?’ asked Ben. He looked at me intently and I began to talk, not about anything really serious – I couldn’t even tell my closest friends about Dad’s drinking – but even just nattering on about how my family all rubbed along together felt like deep revelations. I’d just got to Blue and her eccentricities when:

  ‘Absolutely,’ murmured Ben. He checked his watch, fiddled around inside his jacket pocket and said, ‘Listen, I’ve got to run – I’ll get this – unless you guys want coffee or dessert or anything?’

  Huh? He was leaving?

  Arnold and Mona tore their eyes from each other and blinked at us.

  ‘I thought we were going to see a movie,’ said Arns, looking over at me.

  ‘I’d love that. Soon?’ said Ben, looking at me. I nodded dumbly. ‘Can I call you?’

  And suddenly, instead of feeling outraged that he was leaving me to gooseberry the lovebirds on our first date, I felt flattered that he wanted to see me again. Omigoodness, second date! On our own!

  ‘Sure,’ I said, forgetting to blink seductively.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said softly, close to my ear, and then he kissed me on the cheek and left, stopping at the door to settle the bill.

  The restaurant rattled on even though its most beautiful, most incredible customer had just left.

  ‘Well,’ said Arnold. ‘Anything you said, Lula?’

  ‘What?’ I asked, a big smile on my face.

  Mona punched lover boy
in the arm. ‘I thought that went really well!’ she enthused. ‘Ben’s never interested in any of the PSG girls, but he was really wrapped up in you, Tallulah!’ I glowed. ‘Hm?’ she said, turning to Arns, with a question on her face.

  ‘Yep,’ said Arns. ‘Ben is wonderful. Let’s get dessert.’

  ‘No time before the film,’ said Mona crisply. ‘I bet Ben had –’

  ‘Yes,’ said Arns abruptly. He seemed cross. ‘Selfless community project work to do, right?’

  Mona checked her watch. ‘I think his little group meet around about now.’

  ‘Very diligent,’ I said, still grinning like a crazy person.

  The grin lasted all the way to His Majesty’s Theatre, Hambledon’s prehistoric cinema, until Mona, facing the billboards, said, ‘Ooh. Keira Knightly. Orlando Bloom. I feel like a romcom.’

  ‘What about Matt Damon?’ I asked desperately.

  Mona and Arnold turned to look at me at exactly the same moment with exactly the same expression on their faces: hey, little sister, are you nuts? kind of thing.

  ‘How many times,’ said Arnold patiently, ‘can Mr Bourne find a new identity?’

  ‘Same old,’ agreed Mona, at one with her man.

  ‘You go,’ I said. ‘I’ll head home.’

  ‘Nooo!’ said Mona. ‘Come on. This’ll be fun. You can do Matt Damon with Ben on your next date. He’ll be so incredibly impressed you’re not into chickflicks, unlike us PSGers.’

  I hesitated.

  Arnold threw me a pleading glance. Why, I didn’t know. I mean, he had this infatuation all wrapped up – he really didn’t need me.

  ‘Okay,’ I said reluctantly, then kicked myself as Arns’s face fell. Ohhhh. He’d been pleading for me to go. Duh! ‘But I’m not sitting with you lovebirds,’ I added hastily.

  Arnold looked instantly cheerier and splashed out on treating ‘his two ladies’ (puke) to tickets, and Mona got the chocolates, so the film experience would be a pamper-me session. I should be grateful.

  We had plenty of time before the movie started. Mona’s schedules were clearly a good thing. I had a feeling she was super-efficient. Arns would like that.

 

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