Love-Struck

by Rachael Wing

  “You’re banned for the night, miss,” said the bouncer, stiffly. “Sorry. See you next week.”

  I began to walk home alone and in shock. It could only have been half nine at the latest, so there was still a touch of pink in the sky. I realized that it was slightly chilly, and that I was still clutching my J20 tightly in my hand. Dizzily, I went over what had just happened in my head. I had been stood up, chatted up, awkward-ed out, beer-showered, celebrity-shamed and chucked out, all in the space of an hour and a half.

  That was more than enough for one night, I decided, as I limped my way home.

  I went to work on the Saturday still feeling a little bit numb from confusion. I didn’t know quite how to feel – I’d obviously been stood up, but Robin “Fittest of Them All” Goodfellow had recognized me from his shows! That doesn’t happen every day! But neither does a date with Jonah.

  I had my iPod hidden in my pocket with one earphone in, listening to a bit of therapy. I hadn’t had time to tell Wes yet, but I’d just tell him at his later. I was supposed to be going around after work, but I wasn’t really in the mood to fix up someone else when I’d just been scammed. There was a hole where all my excitement and happiness had been the day before that only a large tub of half Butterscotch and Malteaser, half SuperChocolate could fill.

  You’ve shot me down

  But I’ve realized

  That I wasn’t your first target.

  Girls like you, you drive me wild

  And it’s girls like you I’d rather forget.

  As I polished Ozzie’s counter absentmindedly for the third time, a pair of hands appeared leaning on the counter in front of me. I looked up angrily – because this selfish person was putting greasy fingerprints on to my nice and shiny counter – ready to politely offer my services so they would get right off my lovely clean top.

  Our eyes collided like a car crash.

  I looked down to the top again, humiliated, and polished harder.

  “Hi, how can I help?” I asked, trying to not let too much venom soak into my words.

  “You could listen to my apology for why I was a jerk and didn’t turn up last night?” Jonah murmured, trying to catch my eye, but I wouldn’t look up into his face. I would never look at it the same way again; that evil, conniving but beautiful face. I was beginning to think that he was a bit like Angel from Buffy: all gorgeous and drooly on the outside, but a vampire on the inside. Vampires have a natural instinct to kill and stuff, and Jonah had a natural instinct to be a jerk. See my train of thought? Then Jonah was obviously Angel. And if he was Angel then that would make me Buffy, which I’m not going to argue about because she’s a bit gorgeous, but I’d have to lay off the leather pants a bit, and do something about the nose.

  But Angel and Buffy get together. Maybe we were supposed to be together, like we were destined. Like he was supposed to be a jerk and I was supposed to be a fitty, and we were supposed to be a couple.

  Seeing his gorgeous, evil face had made my head turn mush again, and it made the little brain that I had so confused that it had completely abandoned my body and voice. I stopped polishing like my life depended on it, and just stood there, dumb like an empty puppet.

  He slid into the high stool in front of me.

  “I was going to come, I promise. I’d been looking forward to it all week! But I had to go see my granddad.”

  What, on a Friday? He never misses a Friday out, and so would never go to see his grandfather on a Friday! What a lame excuse! I couldn’t believe that he was making up such a blatant lie and using his poor granddad as an alibi.

  My anger made me snap into action.

  “Yeah, of course, you were going to your granddad’s!” I exclaimed with a hint of sarcasm and just a pinch of furious rage (I admired the effect, I must say) to his Greek-god face. Lip ring (hmm). Stupid bewitching lip ring! (Hmm.) You’re not going to stop me! “And of course your granddad must live in some faraway land called Furthest Place Away Ever Where I Don’t Have A Phone To Call My Date To At Least Be Polite So She Doesn’t Look Like A Complete Wally When She Is Stood Up?” I asked.

  That sentence had so much attitude that I thought I was going to morph into a cheerleader there and then, with the little attitude head-bop and clicking of fingers. I was so tempted to go, “Oh no, you did NOT!” but on second thought, maybe it was a bit much.

  “It was his birthday and he’d planned for me to go around and …” He looked around the room, bright green eyes shining. Today they were the same green as the grass after it’s rained – I’d never seen such green eyes before. When he saw that there was no one about, he leaned in conspiratorially; and before I could rebuke his slimy arm for leaning on my lovely clean counter, I leaned in myself.

  Damn, the lip ring (hmm – STOP IT!) must have still been weaving its magic on me, but it was only a matter of time before I would be able to shake off its hold over me!

  “… and make toy planes with him,” Jonah continued. “He used to be a pilot in the war, so loves all that stuff. I do it every year on his birthday, and this year I told him I couldn’t but he forgot, and rang up my mum all upset because I hadn’t arrived and he thought something had happened. He’s really old and gets upset easily, so Mum made me go there instead and I forgot to take my phone. I was there all night, Holly, I’m sorry. And he does have a phone, but I didn’t have your number on me, so I couldn’t get hold of you.”

  Oh. Right. Well, it could have still been a big lie, but something about the way he was telling it – the slight frown in his brow, the cloudiness in his eyes when he spoke about his granddad going a little confused. I don’t know, it all just kind of clicked into place and when he had finished talking, I believed him.

  I stood there in silence, wracking my brain for something to say in response.

  “Holly? Look, please don’t be too angry,” he pleaded, mistaking my dumb-blonde silence for an angry interlude. “I think we could have something special starting here. We have, y’know, like, a bond forming, sweetie, don’t you think?”

  I looked up into his face, which was all intense, his eyes questioning mine. I was determined not to look at the li— Ahem, the l** r***, because I was already swooning. “Something special”? “Sweetie”? Forget swooning, I was practically on the floor in a useless heap, giggling and smiling like a loon.

  He shook his head, tearing his eyes from mine so quickly that it almost hurt. “Or I thought we did, before I messed up. I can’t believe I’ve ruined this. I’m sorry I’ve upset you, Holly. I’d better go.”

  Jonah slid off his stool and made to leave. I couldn’t let him go, not after a speech like that!

  “Jonah, wait!”

  He turned slowly, a sombre expression on his face.

  “It’s OK, I don’t want to throw anything away!” I gushed. “I don’t care that you went to see your granddad, OK? It’s all right.”

  He smiled and turned back around to the counter. “Really?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, and I’m sorry that I was harsh, I was just really embarrassed last night. It’s not fun being stood up.”

  He came and sat back on the seat in front of me. “Well, hopefully I can make it up to you…?” he asked, eyes twinkling. “By going to the MSR with you? I’ll buy your hot dogs and Diet Coke, and treat you like a princess?”

  I laughed, elbows on the counter, leaning across towards him. “And that’s how you treat a princess, is it? ‘Here, yur Royal Highness, d’yeh want tomato sauce and mustard on yur hot dog or wot?’”

  He chuckled and stroked my hair. Hmm, nice. “That’s exactly right,” he agreed. “That’s the Tiara Treatment! So what do you think?”

  “Erm, I don’t know…” I started, but when his expression faltered, I giggled. “Of course, you loser, I’ll go with you. We’ll have fun.”

  He did his lazy half smile, eyes dancing. “Good. I guess I’
ll see you next week then? I still haven’t found a tent yet…” he trailed off.

  YESS!

  “You will…” I nodded, biting my lip to stop myself from shouting, “YOU’RE GOING TO BE SHARING OUR TENT, JUST AS SOON AS I GET EMILY TO AGREE!”

  “So are you coming to the gig on Friday?” I asked to give my mouth something to do.

  He shook his head, eyes suddenly dark. “No, can’t. I’m grounded until Saturday because I skipped maths on Monday.”

  Oooh, he’s definitely a bad boy.

  And next weekend, he’s my bad boy.

  Omigod, he might ask me to be his girlfriend! I’d be, like, the official girlfriend of a god.

  Yikes!

  “So I guess I’ll just see you on Saturday, then?”

  “I guess so.”

  And that’s when he leaned in that little bit more and kissed me over the counter. Nothing racy, mind; just a soft kiss.

  And with that he was gone from the shop, leaving me melted in a puddle on the floor.

  *

  “I don’t believe you!”

  “You’ve got to!” I exclaimed, laughing and taking a spoonful of ice cream. I still bought it even though things had got a million squillion times better since this morning. “I’m not kidding! They recognized us, they noticed that we always wear the superhero T-shirts and they said that we were—”

  I stopped mid-sentence. I couldn’t tell him that. I’d told him everything down to the exact clothes they were wearing and what they had been sitting on, but I couldn’t tell him that. It was Wes! It would be weird.

  “We were what?” he asked innocently.

  “– we were … loyal.” I smiled. “They thanked us for coming to all the south-west shows! I’m telling you, though, it was the best moment of my life when Robin said that I was cute!”

  OK, bending the truth a little, but if he said that “we” were cute, I’m part of that “we”, so technically he said that I was cute!

  “I can’t believe it’s a week and …” He looked at his watch. “… five hours and twenty … four minutes until we see them.”

  “I know! If I fall asleep before midnight, you promise you’ll wake me up?”

  “You won’t fall asleep, you’ll be with Jonah at some rave,” he mused. “So let’s get this right so I understand. Now he’s told you some sentimental excuse, you like him again?”

  “Yeah!” I managed through a mouth of chocolate.

  Wes shook his head sceptically, taking another bite of ice cream.

  “I don’t get women. He’s been messing you around since you fell on each other in the dark.” I rolled my eyes. “And you’re still going to go out with him?”

  I thought for a second. He had a valid excuse for everything he messed up, so why should I be mad? He’s Jonah Jones. I’d been dreaming about him for God knows how long. And he was gorgeous. I was lucky that he’d bothered this far, so of course I was going to go out with him!

  “Well, I don’t have a whole horde of boys in my wake, do I? Unless you’re offering…”

  Wes put his spoon down, and looked up slowly. His conker eyes were wide and Bambi-like.

  “Well, I … I…”

  My face suddenly dropped. Wes didn’t … I mean, he wouldn’t … because he…

  He burst out laughing. “Chill out, H, I was joking!”

  I laughed too, a little nervously but also a little disappointed. Why didn’t Wes want me? Humph!

  “So what are we going to do about Emily?” I asked, spoon in mouth. There wasn’t much ice cream left after the excitement of my Faeries news. “I mean, do we feed her to the lions? The Dynamic Duo – Mrs Stone and Sloaney – would rip her to shreds on your great oak table.” There was a pause as we both imagined it. Ouch. “However! I think there’s only one thing we can do, to be honest.”

  Wes looked hopeful. “Good, because I didn’t have a clue.”

  “Well, I think the only thing we can do is let it happen.”

  Wes breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God. I don’t want her to meet the Dragon – wait, did you just say ‘let it happen’? As in ‘let the lion into the cage with that beautiful blonde that I like and see what happens’? Have you got brain freeze or are you going crazy?”

  I shrugged. The real answer to that question was yes, I was going crazy (and coincidentally, I did have brain freeze) but for many different reasons.

  “I thought about it today at work. We, you and me, bring Emily over. Your mum doesn’t like me, and because she knows me hopefully I’ll take the beatings for the both of us. Now doesn’t that sound like a fun afternoon!”

  I grimaced in an ugly fashion.

  “Don’t make that face, or the wind’ll blow and you’ll be stuck like that for ever, you uggo,” he mocked. “But yes, that sounds like a real plan, Batman, kudos.”

  “And there’s another part to my amazing plan!” I revealed, shaking my jazz hands.

  Wes raised his eyebrows in question, as his mouth was full of chocolate.

  “We’re going to ring her and ask her to come with us to the rave and stay in our tent.”

  Wes nearly choked.

  “What!?” he spat out. “I’m beginning to think that you are crazy. Don’t you think it’s a little bit too soon?”

  “Nope,” I smiled. “It’s fine. Invite her with us, so it’s not like it’s just you and her, so she doesn’t get all freaked. And we’re doing this now before she gets another invite. And vis-à-vis your darling mother, The Dragon Lady: you’re letting her meet Blondie because if you don’t, your mother will get quite stressy at you. So you’ll do this, because then you’ll be in her good books. And most importantly, my friend, you’ll do this because it will be great to show her your amazing home, and once she has seen your jacuzzi, she’ll be yours!”

  I handed him the phone, grinning. “Do it.”

  Wes took the handset and dialled in the number from his mobile. He pressed the call button, and then turned to me in a panic.

  “What am I supposed to be saying?” he whispered. “I rang too early!”

  “Just tell her that you’ve been thinking and you thought it would be great if she came to MSR with us, and stayed in our tent!” I whispered in a rush.

  “Hi, Emily?” he asked, his voice a little gruff.

  Hahaha, I thought, that must be his manly voice!

  As Wes continued his conversation, I only half-listened, and roamed around his room. I love Wes’s room. It has a big double bed, and it’s blue all over: really nice, calming blues, like you’re in the sea. And there are two big squishy armchairs in his “second bedroom”, which is directly linked to his “first” by a small arch. It used to be a door but Wes got rid of it because he didn’t like it. In that room there’s a huge flat-screen TV, his own up-to-date-with-MI5 computer and a Nintendo Wii.

  Ah, Nintendo Wii. I swear that’s how we burn off all the ice cream.

  But the best thing about Wes’s room is his photo wall. It’s above his bed. So many pictures of Wes and his various friends and family from weddings, birthdays, parties, gigs – it’s just a big wall of memories, with ticket stubs and all sorts as well as pictures. The best bit is the pictures of us two at the top. It starts on the left-hand side from when we became friends, and pretty much maps our friendship for the past two years. He likes photography and so takes a lot of pictures, so you could guess that the picture wall was massive! I studied it, smiling at the pictures of me and him. Robin was right – we do make a cute couple…

  “Done!” he said with a flourish, and dropped the phone in front of me.

  “I take it from your insane grin that she said yes?”

  “She said yes!”

  He took my hands and hauled me off his bed and stuck on his iPod. He spun me around as we danced like loons and sang our lungs out to one of our F
aerie songs:

  My girl

  You’re such a peculiar creature

  You’re the most permanent feature

  in my so-called life.

  I’d carry you around in my pocket,

  If you’d just let me make you my crazy teenage wife.

  These days are ours,

  Let’s make them last–

  ’Cause they’re gone too soon,

  fly by so fast

  So my teen drama queen let’s cut to the chase

  It’s you that I want, it’s you

  My girl!

  I turned up at school on Monday morning, ready to rock. Excitement was rising everywhere. All I could hear were kids talking about MSR, or chatting about camping, or comparing bikinis for the weekend, and I could see everyone casually mingling, finding out who was staying in whose tent. I couldn’t wait until I asked Jonah! Then everyone would know! And for once I would be “Holly” instead of “The Comic Book Kid”: all the boys would look at me and know me; and all the girls would be like, “Oh, Holly, you’re so lucky!” and I would be like, “Yeah, I know – you’re not!”

  Calm, my inner cow, calm.

  I went into registration, and the atmosphere was just the same. In fact, it was pretty loud in there. I saw Wes and Emily laughing in the back of the room and started walking over there. Well, it was probably more like a strut from the “everybody wants to be me” daydream.

  “Miss Holly Hockers, you seem to be in a good mood today.”

  “Good?” I grinned as I walked up to Mr Clumfield’s desk. “Not good: epic! It’s sunny, I’m happy – what’s not to be epic about?!”

  He leaned back in his chair and laughed. “Oh, youth…” he muttered, grinning at me. “Oh, what is it like to be so easily humoured?”

  “I’m humoured by that tie you’re wearing!” I giggled. He was wearing a dancing banana tie, which is a tie with dancing bananas on it. Never, ever going to pull.

  “This’ll be a classic one day!” he cried, as I strutted like the super-hot chick I was (or that’s what they’d be saying when they knew about me and Jonah) over to the back.