The Summer of Us: A Romance Anthology

by AJ Matthews

The Fake Valentine

  A Summer Thing

  All Hallows Eve

  Four Seasons of Romance Box Set

  If you would like to be informed immediately when future books by this author are released then please sign up to the mailing list at: http://eepurl.com/wEMmD

  A Summer Thing

  Oliver hadn’t meant to lie about having a girlfriend, but Jaden had been winding him up really badly about his lack of action, and on the spur of the moment he’d made up a story about meeting the girl of his dreams over the summer holidays and how they were now dating long distance.

  When his mates had shown their obvious scepticism, he had produced a photo of him and Chloe, and it had spiralled from there.

  But now, a year later, the real Chloe was coming to his school, and his reputation was about to bite the dust.

  One year earlier:

  “Oliver, hurry up. We’re meeting the Gilmores for dinner in The Fish Palace and we’re going to be late.”

  Oliver rolled his eyes at his mother and didn’t move off the sofa. “Do I have to come? Why are we hanging out with them anyway? I thought we came on holiday to have fun, and all you’ve done is arrange activities every single day with the gruesome Gilmores. I always get stuck with Chloe, and she’s such a drip!”

  “They’re a very nice family. Your father and I happen to really enjoy the company of Rod and Vivienne. I’m sorry you don’t get on with Chloe, but she seems a very sweet girl if you’d only give her a chance…”

  “She’s not sweet, she’s just boring. It’s alright for Bram, he and Edward get on really well. It’s just me that ends up with zit-face.”

  “Really, Oliver, that’s just unkind. She can’t help having spots. I think it’s perfect, they have children exactly the same age as ours and everyone likes each other. It’s only you that has to be difficult. So get your behind off that sofa and make an effort to be nice, okay? Otherwise I might just think about cancelling the scuba-diving trip.”

  “Muuum, you wouldn’t,” Oliver moaned, thinking how unfair it was. The scuba diving was the one thing he’d most been looking forward to. But when she just shot him a look and walked out of the room, he decided it wasn’t worth the risk and got off the sofa to shower for dinner.

  Oliver kicked the table moodily as Chloe made yet another attempt to talk to him. Why wasn’t she getting the message? He’d been surly and silent all the way to the restaurant and as rude as he thought he could get away with once they’d arrived. But Chloe was still trying to be his friend. Did they have to be friends just because they were both sixteen? Why couldn’t his parents have found a family with a daughter who was actually pretty? Someone he could have a little holiday flirtation with. There was no chance of pulling anyone else if he had zit-face constantly by his side.

  His mother collared him as he escaped to the bathroom.

  “Cut it out, Oliver. I won’t tolerate you being rude.”

  “I’m not being rude, exactly.”

  “You’re walking a very fine line, young man. I meant what I said about the scuba diving. I know you and your father are both looking forward to it, but I won’t hesitate to cancel it if you don’t buck up your ideas, do you understand me?”

  One look at his mother’s firm face told him she definitely meant it. He pulled himself free without a word and went to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

  He washed his hands feeling furious with Chloe.

  He looked into the mirror, checking the tan line on his neck. Jaden and Trey were going to be jealous of his tan if nothing else. Egypt had totally live weather, and the Red Sea right in front of their hotel had possibly the best scuba diving in the world. If he was allowed to go, that is. Stupid Chloe. Trey would probably go for Chloe regardless, make the best of it; he liked to turn every situation to his advantage in some way.

  A slow smile spread across Oliver’s face as the answer hit him. If you can’t ditch her, make her join you. His mother would never withdraw the scuba diving if he invited Chloe to go with them.

  Chloe watched Oliver come back from the bathroom and saw straight away that his mood had lightened. She couldn’t work out why he’d taken against her, and it seemed that the harder she tried, the more she exasperated him. If only she could be her normal self instead of having to hide in layers. Egypt was even worse than she’d expected. Hot countries really didn’t do a lot for her, they just made her feel constantly sticky no matter how many cool showers she took, which was why her face was breaking out. She cursed her stupidly pale skin and picked all the batter off her prawns, she could do without the extra grease.

  Out of the corner of her eye she looked at the Jefferson family. They were all of them in their element here. Sun-kissed, with a zeal for outdoor sports, they were thriving on the beaches of Sharm el Sheikh, while she huddled in the shade sticking to the safety of the hotel pool.

  Oliver was definitely a golden boy, and even his brother, Bram, was already full of confidence despite only being thirteen. Chloe looked at her own brother, Edward, and hoped that he would grow taller over the rest of the summer. He was the same age as Bram, but looked like such a little boy standing next to him. Especially in those shorts showing off his skinny pale legs.

  But at least Bram and Edward were having fun together. Unlike her and Oliver. It was massively annoying that she had developed such a monster crush on him. Why couldn’t she have met and fallen for someone decent? But no, instead she had spent almost the entire holiday daydreaming about a boy who didn’t show the slightest sign of liking her back, and clearly found her unattractive and annoying. What a joy!

  But was Oliver now smiling at her? Yes he was, definitely. She smiled back in relief that his irritation had suddenly passed.

  “Do you want to come scuba diving with me and my dad tomorrow?” Oliver asked when he’d taken his seat.

  Chloe practically fell off her chair backwards. Not just smiling but inviting her to do something with him? Had the sky fallen on their heads? Nope, just the same dirty brown ceiling with a broken fan.

  “Oh, Chloe doesn’t really go out in the sun, she burns very easily,” her mother clucked.

  Chloe shot her mother a look, silently shouting at her to shut up.

  “I'd love to, and I’ll be fine,” she said firmly.

  She would wear her new bikini, she decided. It had been an impulse buy and she hadn’t had the guts to wear it even once so far, but her regular swimming costume was an ugly out-of-shape all-covering monstrosity, and she really wanted Oliver to see her looking nice, just this once. She just hoped she didn’t chicken out again when she put it on. She’d only worn it for about thirty seconds so far on holiday and it was way more skimpy than it had looked in the shop, which was why she’d promptly taken it off again, but not this time, no way. Even if she had to slather herself head to toe in factor fifty sun cream, she was going to wear the bright pink set. If Oliver would just stick to being pleasant, then the holiday could even be fun.

  Oliver sat on the deck and messed around with his new underwater camera while his father checked the boat. He hoped to get some really great pictures to show the lads, hopefully an octopus, maybe even a shark; that would be cool.

  A girl on the beach caught his eye, and he watched her progress towards them with appreciative enjoyment. There were always gorgeous girls on the beach, and Oliver wondered what his dad would think if he jumped off the deck to talk to her for a couple of minutes.

  He surreptitiously lifted the camera and took a photo.

  “Oliver?” the girl called out in Chloe’s voice.

  No frigging way! Chloe was always covered up in floaty shift dresses that went right down to her ankles, but the girl in front of him had some incredible long legs, and she was totally stacked in that bikini. He dragged his eyes off her perfect assets and up to her face. She was wearing a big floppy hat that shaded it, and he still couldn’t make out her features in the bright sunshine, but it was definitely Chloe.

  He lif
ted the camera again, just as she caught her hat when the breeze tried to take it away, and let himself zoom in on her curves before snapping another picture. He looked at the photo he’d just taken. Her hair was across her face, the hat was jaunty as she held it in place, and her waist looked tiny as she twisted sideways out of the wind.

  Man, she looked smoking. What a shame it was just a good photo and not reality. Still, it was a keeper.

  Oliver enjoyed the scuba diving too much to be annoyed by Chloe, plus at least when they were underwater he didn’t have to talk to her, and the scuba gear was a bonus too; it covered her face but the wetsuit left a lot of cleavage he could freely check out from behind his own mask. She was a natural in the water, like a mermaid, flipping about with her long hair floating around her.

  Together they smiled at the camera, as his dad got photo after photo of the two of them among the tropical fish.

  Chloe paid the price the next day; she had burned, despite the high-factor sunscreen. She covered herself in a weird blue cream that helped her hot skin to heal, but which looked bizarre against her now lobster pink face.

  Oliver went straight back to avoiding her. Chloe didn’t try to talk to him again.

  One year later:

  Oliver took the stairs four at a time as he ran down them, eager to get out of the house and meet the guys for some basketball in the park. But his mother’s voice floated out from the kitchen stopping him.

  “Hold up one minute please – come and say hello.”

  Oliver scowled, pulled his cap a little lower and mooched into the kitchen. Sitting at the central island, sipping coffee with his mother, was Vivienne Gilmore.

  “Oh, hi,” Oliver said in surprise. He knew his parents had kept in touch with the Gilmores, and that they had even been to visit them when they were in their neck of the woods, but he hadn’t expected any of them to come to Spaworth.

  “Hello, Oliver, are you enjoying the summer holiday?” Vivienne asked him.

  “Yeah, not doing much this year. How are Chloe and Edward?” he asked politely as his mother shot him a warning look.

  “Very well, thank you for asking. Chloe’s unpacking her room today.”

  “Unpacking?” Oliver frowned in confusion.

  “I told you, Oliver.” His mother made her exasperated face. “The Gilmores moved yesterday, to a house on Cherry Street.”

  “Here? You’ve moved here?” Oliver’s head jerked up. He was absolutely convinced his mother had not told him; he would have remembered that particular detail, despite not listening to her half the time.

  “Yes,” Vivienne answered him. “Rod’s job has been relocated, and we’re less than an hour from the city here. A bit of a commute for him, but it’s much nicer to live in a small town, don’t you think? Of course the real reason we chose Spaworth is because it’s so lovely to already have friends in a new area.” The two women smiled warmly at each other.

  “You should go and say hello to Chloe,” Oliver’s mother suggested, “I’m sure she’d appreciate the welcome.”

  “Definitely,” Vivienne chimed in, “she’s terribly nervous about starting a new school. But already knowing you will make all the difference, I’m sure.”

  “She’s going to my school?” Oliver couldn’t hide his horror.

  “Yes, and you will make an effort to help her fit in, won’t you, Oliver?” his mother said pointedly.

  “Yeah, yeah, of course.” Oliver backed out of the room, but his mother wasn’t done with him.

  “Go and see her today, they’re at number twelve.”

  “Aw, Mum, I have plans.”

  “Nothing that can’t wait.”

  Up in his room, Oliver mumbled a message into his watch and then forwarded it all his friends, letting them know he wouldn’t be joining them for basketball after all. It wasn’t because his mother had told him not to, it was because he had a serious problem to work out.

  Chloe was going to his school, and that would need some extensive damage control.

  He sat on the edge of his bed and put his head in his hands, trying to remember exactly what he’d told the boys about Chloe over the course of the last year. Maybe he could brazen it out? Maybe he could pretend she was a different Chloe who also happened to have met him in Egypt, and who also happened to look just like the girl in the photos… maybe not.

  Maybe he could ask her out now, and blag the rest. No, he’d said too much, and he didn’t want to date her in the slightest.

  Maybe he could completely ignore her and say they’d broken up. But then she’d tell everyone the truth.

  There was only one thing for it. He was going to have to come clean. But who with? He could either tell his mates that he’d made the whole thing up, which would lead to years of merciless teasing, or he could tell Chloe everything and ask her to play along. But would she? He hadn’t exactly been nice to her. Maybe he could offer to pay her. Everyone liked money, right?

  But it was going to be embarrassing when the others met her; he’d really bigged her up and how attractive she was. Maybe he could spend the rest of the summer working on making her a bit more presentable somehow? All the photos he’d shown of her had been with her face partially hidden, and he’d deliberately never said her surname so that no one could look her up on social media, but she wasn’t even close to how he’d described her. Actually that wasn’t strictly true; parts of her had been pretty close. The parts no one was likely to actually see.

  Damn, he should have dropped the lie as soon as it started, and said they’d broken up a week or so later, but having a made up girlfriend had been more of a bonus than a drag. It had kept Stacey off his back for starters, and it hadn’t really interfered with him getting other girls. Of course, there was that time when Lori had “refused to let him cheat on his girlfriend”, but he’d made up for that with Amanda. The two of them had snuck off at the Valentine disco and been pretty hot and heavy, but Amanda knew how to keep her mouth shut about what happened. She’d never told anyone and neither had he.

  Then there was that girl at Christmas. He’d spent the holidays with his family at his grandparents’ and had gotten pretty friendly with the girl who lived next door. But when he’d given the lads a blow-by-blow of every detail, he’d pretended it had all happened with Chloe and not with Keira. Was it Keira? He’d called her Chloe in his mind to help him keep up the pretence. And once in person too, which hadn’t gone down well.

  But best of all, pretending to go out with Chloe had enhanced his reputation with the boys. As far as they were concerned he had more experience than any of them. But how the heck was he going to explain that to Chloe?

  Oliver dragged his bike out of the garage and slowly cycled over to Cherry Street. He’d been living with an image of her as he wanted her to be in his mind for a year, creating pretend moments that they’d had together. He almost felt like he knew her much better than he really did. But they’d all happened with a figment of his imagination. Chloe the stunner, who gave really good… He shook his head to clear the thoughts.

  Now he had to go and see the real Chloe. Only now was he remembering that girl, and what a prize pillock he had been towards her. Which was not good considering he needed a favour.

  Getting off his bike outside number twelve he paused as the front door opened and Chloe backed out of it dragging a large box.

  She was wearing cut-off jeans as shorts and All Star trainers. Now, those legs were definitely as he remembered, longer than the neck of a giraffe. She straightened and turned and Oliver did a double take.

  It was Chloe, his Chloe, not the real Chloe he’d met. Gone were the spotty face, the greasy hair, and the slouch. She was every inch his fantasy. Except for the bit about her actually liking him back.

  Chloe rubbed her aching back and noticed the boy holding a bike standing at her gate. She shaded her eyes and groaned. Oliver Jefferson, the big-head himself. Oh well, she supposed she was going to have to talk to him at some point, especially as he was the only p
erson she would know at her new school. She silently cursed her parents yet again for dragging her to this poxy town.

  She lifted one hand in greeting and gave a very brief smile. “Hello, Oliver, how nice to see you again.” Not.

  He came through the gate and leaned his bike against the inside wall of the garden.

  “Wow, Chloe, you look different.”

  “You mean, not dressed like a clammy nun? Yeah, that was a great look for me,” she laughed sarcastically. “It was that intense sun – my skin can’t take it, I burn in seconds.”

  He looked confused. “Then why go on holiday to Egypt?”

  “My dad was given the holiday as a bonus incentive award from work. Plus I was doing a school project on the pharaohs; it would have been silly not to go just because my vanity suffered for a couple of weeks.”

  She reached up to touch the smooth skin on her cheek, relieved to have it back to its usual peaches and cream complexion. Her mother said she was the perfect English rose, and the English weather most certainly suited her better. This year they’d only ventured as far as France, and she had managed to get a very slight tan by taking it easy with the sunshine.

  “Well, you look great now.” Oliver was smiling at her appreciatively, and her lip curled with distaste at how shallow he was.

  “Because I’m not sweating and spotty? I’m otherwise exactly the same.”

  “It’s more than that, you were kind of hunched up, and… and seemed sort of desperate.” Oliver stopped talking, realising how uncomplimentary it sounded. He needed to get her on his side, not alienate her.

  “I was miserable, Oliver! I was stuck with only my family for two whole weeks in a country that was unbearably hot and yet I had to stay covered up. And the only person even close to my own age that I met the entire time was you. Of course I was desperate to talk to you, but you were nice to me one day and then completely blanked me the next. I'd only just split up with my boyfriend and already felt low and insecure, and you were totally the icing on the cake. A real a-hole, if you want me to be honest about it.”