We shop for a few more hours, browsing through more clothes shops. Claire knows her way around the high street effortlessly of course and takes it upon herself to tow me from place to place, stopping to stare at every pretty thing she sees in the windows and commenting on them. Half way through her analysis of a particularly intricate candle set, I decide to give up on my attempts at trying to offer interesting opinions and resort to just nodding and smiling instead, punctuated by the occasional ‘Ohh’ of enthusiasm. It works better that way, and she doesn’t seem to mind too much.
After we have scoured most of the high street, we stop for lunch at a Pizza restaurant, both of us carrying large bags. I nab a window seat, dumping my bags down and leaning back, exhausted. I order a plain pizza, while Claire orders a vegetarian one.
“So,” She starts while we wait. “How long are you staying here, Hope?”
“Till the end of the summer holidays,”
“Then what?”
“I’m going home.”
She eyes me shrewdly, as though she doesn’t believe me, but drops the matter as our drinks arrive. She takes a sip of her lemonade. “What year are you in, at school?”
“Twelve after summer.”
“You’re sixteen then?”
“Yeah.” Technically I’m sixteen in five days, but she doesn’t need to know that. “You are too, right?”
“Yup.”
After that, we fall into a comfortable silence. She fiddles absently with her straw while I stare vacantly out of the window, watching the people in the streets filter by. It’s a little disconcerting, watching all of the life going on around you and realising that time doesn’t stop, not for anyone. I take to counting the people as they walk past; one old lady with a shopping basket, one father with his young daughter and a couple of new mothers pushing prams while gossiping animatedly. Sometimes I wonder if they ever get tired of life as well.
The pizzas arrive quickly, warm and toasty. I take a large bite, savouring the taste. “So which school do you go to?” I ask.
“It’s just the local comprehensive. We don’t have much choice really, because it’s the only school nearby. Some kids go to those posh private schools, or occasionally Grammar, but they would have to get the train.”
“Ash goes to your school as well, doesn’t he?”
She nods, stifling a giggle. “He’s pretty popular, you know.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she says, with a devious smirk. “He practically has his own unofficial fan club.”
“Fan club?” I repeat in awe.
She laughs, azure eyes crinkling into smiles. “You should be glad that none of the other girls in our school know about you living with Ash, or they would probably hurt you. They can be quite predatory.”
“Fan club?” I’m only half listening to her, the piece of pizza dangling off of my fork completely forgotten. I’m still stuck on the ‘fan club’ part. She continues on, a sort of faraway look in her eyes.
“Yes...although it would be amusing if they did find out...they’d be horribly jealous…”
“Why would Ash have a fan club?” I demand, horrified by the thought.
She shrugs. “Well, lots of girls in my year think he’s cute.” I stick my tongue out and make a face. “Although, it’s generally just the blonde cheerleader types. You know the sort.”
I shake my head solemnly. “I’m going to be having nightmares about this for the next month.”
She smirks teasingly. “Jealous?”
“No, just surprised. Maybe mortified would be a better word.”
“Don’t worry, you already have an edge over all of his fan girls. You have an IQ in the positive numbers, and you don’t stalk him.”
“Nice to know.”
She suppresses a snigger, eyes dancing with mirth. “What is going on between you two, anyway?”
My scowl deepens. “I do not like him in that way!”
Claire just gives me a triumphant grin. “I never mentioned anything about love, you know,” she says in a tone that clearly says she’s won.
I can’t think of anything clever to say. I flounder for a moment, mouth opening and closing as if impersonating a fish, before eventually giving up and returning to my previous scowl.
Claire returns to eating her pizza with a knowing smile.
*****
It is a quiet day. The gradually sinking afternoon sun shines dimly above us, casting long shadows across the road. On both sides of the pavement shops are lined up neatly in rows; a restaurant, a clothes shop, a book shop and then the cycle starts all over again with the occasional newsagent added in.
A bus groans heavily to a stop and a few people get out. The roads are still quite busy, like they always are, but the streets are almost empty. A lone, old woman totters into a shop, a few men wait at the bus stop, several people with stern expressions stride past. But otherwise, it is eerily quiet.
“Where is everyone?” I finally ask, glancing around apprehensively. The traffic lights turn red and the cars screech to a stop as an elderly man with a gnarled walking stick ambles slowly across the road. “Is it always this empty?”
“It’s a Tuesday,” Claire points out. On our right the owner of a fruit stall is beginning to pack away his collection of bananas for the day. “It’s only about four o clock, most people are still at work.”
“It’s the summer holidays though,” I say. “What about the students?”
“Most of them live on the other side of town. It’s quite far away for them to get here, so they don’t come often.”
Another bus pulls in a few metres in front of us. The old, red vehicle puffs, spews smoke and then stops. The doors squeak as they slide open. Only two people step out; a tall, lean figure with blonde hair and another petite one with ebony tresses. Beside me, Claire stiffens before stopping altogether. By now, Ben Hastle and the small figure attached to his arm, Kate, have spotted us. The pink sun behind the two silhouettes casts shadows that flare out in front of them as they approach.
“Oh, look Ben, it’s the new girl and brace face.” Delicate features morph into a sneer, cold and patronising. Suddenly I remember the day in the meadow when I had first been ‘introduced’ to them. They’re both pricks, I conclude.
“What do you want?” I ask bluntly.
“We were just passing through,” Ben says. A wry smirk emerges as he addresses Claire. “Good to see you again, by the way.”
“You too.” she squirms under his intense gaze, looking more uncomfortable by the second. It’s obvious she’s not glad to see him again at all.
“So, where’s Ash today?” Ben asks me.
“Not with us, obviously.”
“Got tired of you already?”
“He’s probably found someone new to tag along with,” Kate jeers. I will not punch her in the face, I will not punch her in the face, I will not punch her in the – Claire grabs hold of my wrist in a clear warning to drop it, as if sensing my line of thought.
I breathe deeply and try to move around them, glowering when they block our way. “I’m sorry but as much fun as this is, we have better things to do. Please let us past.”
Ben stares at us for a long moment, as if debating whether or not my silent threats are worth sticking around for or not, before brushing past me. He pushes something into my hand. I turn back to see an unreadable expression on his face. “You shouldn’t judge someone before you know them properly,” he says. “Everyone has flaws, even your dear Ash.”
After they leave, I discreetly glance down at the note still crumpled in my hand, making sure Claire hasn’t seen it.
Meet me at this bus stop, tomorrow at six. Don’t be late.
*****
The journey back to Jenny’s house is silent. We both walk quickly, Claire pointedly looking off to the side and looking deep in thought. Finally however, when the house is coming into view, I find the courage to break the tense silence and ask the question
that has been gnawing at my mind for the whole ten minute walk.
“Do you know what Ben meant by the last thing he said?” I ask quietly.
“No idea.”
“So how do you know him, anyway?”
“He used to go to our school,” she sighs.
“Used to? What happened? Did he move?”
She shakes her head. “He got expelled.”
“What did he do that was so bad?”
“Hardly anyone knows. It must have been something serious, but the headmaster didn’t want the news getting out. Only people who were directly involved in the incident and his family seem to know.”
“So where does he go to school now then?”
“Another school out of town.” She sighs again. “Hope?”
“Yeah?”
“I know you’re curious, but don’t get mixed up with him, okay?”
I eye her suspiciously. “Why?”
“He’s bad news. There used to be a rumour going around that he was a pyromaniac. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but just try to keep away from him.” I have never seen her so serious. Her eyes, normally dreamy and distant, are suddenly sharp and guarded. Maybe it’s because of this, knowing how much she means it, that I have no choice but to agree.
“Okay, I’ll keep away from him.”
“Good.”
She walks with me right up to the door. I knock three times. For a while we both stand on the porch, the uncomfortable silence settling around us once again. We are only saved once Ash opens the door, allowing me inside. Claire and I say brief goodbyes, before she turns quickly and leaves. Ash shuts the door and I shed off my coat and shoes.
“How was it?” he asks.
I smile wearily. “Fun.”
His eyes travel to the bags. “Yeah, I can tell.”
I make my way to the kitchen where I switch on the kettle and take an apple, biting into it and savouring the sweet taste. I collapse into a seat tiredly and Ash follows me, searching around until he finds a digestive biscuit chew on. For a moment I deliberate telling him about the encounter with Ben Hastle. I think back to what had happened, to what Ben had said; ‘everyone has flaws, even your dear Ash.’ What flaws did he mean, except for his endless appetite, lack of manners and tendency to be irritating?
I watch as he bites into the biscuit, crumbs falling everywhere. He turns around, pours all of the water that I had boiled for my own tea into a mug, and then puts hot chocolate powder into it. I sigh slightly in exasperation, but don’t say anything about it as he stirs with a spoon. Does that count as a flaw, too? Stealing one’s boiled water?
But before I can point this out he has walked to the table, carefully carrying the mug of hot chocolate, and places it in front of me. “Here,” he says, and smiles.
*****
The next day I meet Ben at the bus stop.
I know it’s wrong. I can feel the sense of foreboding squirming in my chest like a restless predator. But curiosity killed the cat and, well, that’s me. A cat with a death wish.
“I didn’t think you’d show,” is the first thing he says. He looks me up and down and then, satisfied, smiles. “Are you hungry? I’ll buy you dinner.”
I try not gape, but fail epically. “Sorry?”
“That’s not very polite, you know.”
I close my mouth. “Why did you ask me to come here?”
“Because. You’re different. And I wanted to get to know you better.” He looks bored, as if I shouldn’t be surprised by this. My mind struggles to grapple with this new revelation, but it’s faring no better than my slack jaw.
“But you hate me,” I state blandly.
“I hate Ash,” he corrects, eyes glinting. “But you, well, that’s a different story.”
I narrow my eyes. “What game are you playing?”
“No game, I promise,” he raises his hands in surrender.
“So did you just act like a jerk to me for show?”
“Don’t be offended. I do have a reputation to keep, you know.”
“And Kate?”
“She’s not my girlfriend. I just let her hang around with me, mostly because I can’t get rid of her. It’s you that I’m really interested in.”
It’s so out of character, so unfathomable, so completely wrong that I don’t know what to say. I try to figure out his motives but his eyes, still as icy as before, are practically walls. He offers another smile, and it’s not the same malicious sneer I’d seen before, but a real smile. An almost affectionate smile. Oh god this is so wrong run now Hope before everything goes to hell and you regret it - before I can make a break for it, he grabs my hand and leads me down the street. Apparently the ‘run away and freak out in the safety of own room’ option is now out of the question.
He takes me to some classy Indian restaurant, sits me down and then practically holds me captive. “You’re mine for the evening,” he declares, and even though it’s supposed to be charming, it just makes me shudder. Because there’s something in his eyes, something possessive that I don’t like. I feel like a hostage. But who would think I’m worth paying ransom for?
“I really shouldn’t be here-” I start, but he cuts me off.
“Says who? Ash? You’re capable of making your own decisions, aren’t you?”
“It’s nothing to do with him. I don’t want to be here,” I glare.
He looks annoyed. “Can’t you just give me a chance?”
“No.” I try to get up to leave when the starters arrive, chicken tikka. The smell is so irresistible I’m tempted to stay just for the food. Stupid demanding stomach. Do all of my internal organs hate me?
Ben latches on to my weakness. He grabs my hand. “Stay, please. Just tonight.” There’s genuine hope in his expression, and I can’t ignore it. He actually seems to be serious about this. I consider for a moment. My mind is still telling me to run, my stomach is protesting, and I’m hopelessly confused. In the end I cave and sit back down. Hope you’re satisfied stomach, I think dryly.
“Fine. One night. But then you’re going to leave me the hell alone.”
“Deal.”
I sigh and grab a slice of bread. “So, if I have to enjoy this, tell me something about yourself.”
“Like what?”
“Your hobbies, apart from bullying people.”
“I don’t bully people,” he denies. “I just intimidate them. I hear you’re pretty good at that too.”
Despite myself, I smile. “Yeah. It’s a useful skill.”
“This is why I like you,” he says, and he’s smiling again in (I hate to admit it) an attractive way. “You’re one of the first girls I’ve met who stands up to me. You’re independent, you’re smart, you think for yourself. It’s refreshing.”
“Thanks?”
“It’s a compliment. You can accept it, you know.”
“Whatever. Just order some potatoes.”
The funny thing is, I actually believe him. By the end of the night, I’ve forgotten that I used to hate this boy, that I should still hate him because he’s Ash’s enemy and I’m supposed to be on Ash’s side, right? But the dinner goes well. We talk about our lives, nothing personal, and exchange stories. He succeeds in making me laugh. Despite everything, I realise that I have enjoyed myself.
Afterwards he walks me home, putting his arm around me. I’m uncomfortable with it, but I don’t say anything. He stops before we reach the house, turning to look at me. “Thank you,” he says. “I had fun tonight.”
I bite my lip. “Yeah, me too,” I admit hesitantly.
“So I won you over,” he grins victoriously, flicking golden hair out of his eyes in a way that reminds me too much of Ash. “How about we do this again, three days from now?”
“I shouldn’t.”
He sighs in annoyance. “Look, I’m a good guy, alright? What happened between Ash and I had nothing to do with you, so don’t feel bad about this. You just said that you had fun tonight. That’s all that matters.” I’m no
t convinced, but again I say nothing about my doubts.
“What happened between you and Ash?” I ask instead.
It’s the wrong question. His eyes darken, like a water stain on fabric, to stormy blue. “It’s none of your concern.”
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