“Like we were going from sneaking around to almost living together,” I agree, finally understanding what he means.
“Exactly,” he says thankfully. “I mean, we’re really young. We should be doing stuff that—you know, normal teenagers do.”
I grimace.
“I don’t even know what that is,” I admit sadly, slipping down from the stone wall.
“Oh, baby …” He enfolds me in a hug. “We’ll find out together, all right? From now on, it’s all going to be as normal and boring as we can possibly get.”
I hug him back just as tight. It doesn’t sound at all romantic; no one but me, probably, would have a rush of love and gratitude at hearing the words normal and boring applied to their relationship by their boyfriend.
But I feel as if Jase and I have been strapped to a roller-coaster ride for longer than we even realized. We got so used to being thrown around, bounced up and down, dropped precipitously from great heights, that now it’s as if we’re finally unbuckling our straps and staggering out, wobbly-legged, heads dazed, onto solid ground again. Not quite trusting it yet. Clinging to each other for security, just as we’re doing now.
I’m smiling against his chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath, my mouth pressed against the lovely firm pectoral muscle over his heart. This is so new and wonderful, being able to stand here with Jase, in daylight. No panic, no fear of being yelled at. Just to stand here with him, listening to him breathe, wrapped in his arms, my head against his heart.
If this is boring and normal, that’s how I want my entire life to be from now on.
“Come on!” He pulls away from me, beaming, every line of his face creasing into a huge smile of pure happiness. His eyes are crinkled up, his full lips wide and merry. “Let’s get on the bike and go for a ride!”
“Cool!” I say excitedly, zipping up my jacket.
Jase flips open the seat and throws me the spare helmet.
“Where are we going?” I ask as I put it on.
“Nowhere,” he says blissfully. “Anywhere. Wherever we want, as long as we want. You don’t have to be back in a hurry, do you?”
I shake my head. No curfews, no Aunt Gwen with her beady eyes waiting for me; I’m free as a bird.
“We could grab some dinner out,” Jase suggests happily. “Fish and chips or something.”
I’m about to agree when a thought strikes me.
“We should bring food back for Taylor,” I say conscientiously. “I can’t go out on our first night back and leave her by herself—”
Jase is already holding up his hand.
“Of course,” he says. “We’ll get a takeaway and bring it back. Sorry, I should’ve thought of it myself. We can’t leave her alone.”
A wave of love sweeps over me; I must have the nicest, most thoughtful boyfriend in the world.
“I’m so lucky to have you,” I say, gulping back tears. “I love you so much, Jase. I think you must be the nicest, sweetest—”
“Stop it!” He grabs me, swings me up as if I weigh nothing at all (which is very far from being the case) and plops me down on the seat of his motorbike. “Enough soppy stuff! We’re going for a ride!”
I’m laughing as he swings his leg over and settles in front of me, putting the key in the ignition.
“Will you give me a proper lesson?” I ask, leaning forward. “On how to ride this?”
“Maybe,” he says, drawing the word out long. “If you promise to stop the soppy stuff, okay?”
“I will,” I say.
“And never call me sweet again.”
“Promise,” I say, but I’m crossing my fingers.
“I love you, Scarlett,” he says as he kicks down and fires up the bike, and the gravel beneath us spits up as the wheels spin and we shoot off down the drive.
“I love you, Jase!” I yell into his helmet, and even though the noise of the bike is deafening, I know he’s heard me, because he speeds up, knowing my arms are tightly wrapped around his waist, and tips up the front of the bike. For a few delirious seconds, we’re leaning back, still flying along but only on the back wheel now. I tilt my head and look up at the sky through the visor, dizzy with ecstasy as Jase pulls a high and dramatic wheelie.
The front wheel bumps down again, and Jase hits the accelerator, going even faster. I close my eyes and drop my head to nestle against his back, overwhelmed with happiness. Wakefield Hall is behind us for now; we’re spinning away from it, wherever we want to go.
Nowhere. Anywhere. Escaping: putting everything behind us.
And we won’t go back until we’re more than ready.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lauren Henderson is the author of several acclaimed “tart noir” mystery novels for adults, as well as the witty romance handbook Jane Austen’s Guide to Dating, which has been optioned for film development by the producer of Legally Blonde and 10 Things I Hate About You. Lauren was born and raised in London, where she lives with her husband. Her first three novels about Scarlett Wakefield, Kiss Me Kill Me, Kisses and Lies, and Kiss in the Dark, are available from Delacorte Press. Visit the author online at laurenhenderson.net or myspace.com/mslaurenhenderson.
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