by Hyland, Tara
“Please, Piers,” she said, rubbing her temples. “Can’t you just sit still for five minutes? You’re giving me a headache. And, I would imagine, your poor mother, too.”
For the second year in a row, Caitlin didn’t come back for Christmas. It was a shame, because the last time Amber had seen her—about eighteen months earlier—she’d gotten pretty cool, much cooler than when she’d first come to live with them. Amber had been looking forward to hearing about her course and living in Paris—in fact, she’d been secretly hoping to scrounge an invite out there.
“Why doesn’t she ever visit?” she asked Elizabeth one evening.
“You’ll have to ask her,” her older sister replied primly, which was really annoying, as she obviously knew.
Elizabeth was as boring and bossy as usual. The first night she was back, she gave Amber a big-sister lecture about getting kicked out of school—God, she sounded so like Dad sometimes—and then kept offering to help her study for the practice exams that were coming up in January. “If you get a head start now, it’ll save you a lot of extra work in the summer,” she kept saying. Yawn.
At least Amber could use studying as an excuse to escape to her room. But, instead of hitting the books, she would secretly call Eva. The girls spoke to each other every day over the break, plotting what they were going to get up to next term. Eva seemed to be having much more fun over in Brazil—out in Rio every night. She talked of her friends back home and a guy she’d met: “He was gorgeous, so I did it with him. He’s American. Much cuter than English boys.” Amber couldn’t help feeling jealous.
When they arrived back at Beaumont Manor on the eighth day of what must have been the coldest, bleakest January in history, Amber was already looking forward to their first night out at Cindy’s. But on Friday morning she woke up with the flu.
She spent the day in bed with a hot-water bottle, making sure to drink plenty of fluids. But she still wasn’t better by the evening. What made her disappointment worse was that Eva was still planning to go.
“Who’re you taking along?” Amber asked in a small voice, as she watched Eva get ready. She couldn’t help thinking that her roommate could at least have offered to stay in with her.
“Circe,” Eva replied off-hand.
“Oh.” Amber burrowed further under the covers, feeling even more wretched now. Circe Scott was a new arrival this term. The troubled daughter of seventies rock star Leonard Scott, she was far higher up the pecking order than Amber, who had a horrible feeling she was about to be replaced as Eva’s best friend.
When the Brazilian girl left half an hour later, she said a coolly polite goodnight to Amber.
For the first time in a long while, Amber cried herself to sleep.
When Amber woke at three in the morning, she was surprised to find that Eva wasn’t back. She decided to stay awake, so at least she could find out what had gone on. But four o’clock came and went, and still Eva hadn’t returned. Amber watched her digital clock flip over to half past four . . . then five . . .
She must have dozed off around six, because the next thing she knew, someone was shaking her awake. It was Eva. Her hands were like ice, and she’d clearly just gotten back. She was still wearing the same clothes as last night, her hair was a mess and her mascara beginning to run, but she was grinning. Amber’s eyes slid over to her clock. It was seven twenty-eight.
“Where have you been?” she hissed. “You’re going to get into so much trouble.”
Eva flipped her hair back. It had frizzed in the early-morning damp, so the flick wasn’t as effective as usual. But she didn’t seem bothered.
“No way. No one saw me. And, even if they did, it was worth it. I had the best night ever!”
Amber thought of Circe and guessed that must have been the reason the night was so successful. She was about to be permanently replaced. Hurt and jealousy shot through her.
“Well, I’m glad you and Circe had fun,” she said moodily.
She was about to turn over, putting her back to Eva. But Eva put a restraining hand on her.
“Circe didn’t come in the end. She got scared and turned back. She’s a covarde.”
She spat out the last word. Amber felt her spirits lift. She realized then that Eva had woken her because she missed her partner in crime. And this was her opportunity to get back into Eva’s good books.
“So what happened?” she asked eagerly.
Eva grinned. “First move over and let me under the covers with you. I’m freezing!”
The reason for all the excitement turned out to be a guy. Not a boy this time—a homem. Eva had met him in Cindy’s. His name was Jack, and he was, according to an overexcited Eva, a total babe. He was older, but she wasn’t sure how old—“late twenties, I think”—and he had his own business, although she wasn’t sure what exactly. He also had his own place, a house just outside Whitby, and apparently the biggest stash of weed Eva had ever seen. She’d gone back there with a few others after the club closed. Nothing much had happened between them that night, “just a bit of fooling around.” But they were planning to meet during the week, and she expected they’d do it then.
Eva didn’t shut up about Jack all week. She sneaked out every night to meet him. By the following Friday morning, Amber realized she was being dumped for him instead of Circe. Eva still hadn’t returned from her Thursday-night jaunt by the time breakfast was served. Amber covered for her, saying she was in bed with period pains. As the morning wore on she began to worry that she’d done the wrong thing. Maybe Eva was lying dead in a ditch somewhere . . .
Halfway through a two-period math class she finally appeared. There was no time to talk then, but as soon as the class ended, Eva grabbed Amber and hauled her to one side.
“You have to come out tonight,” she ordered.
Amber looked sceptical. She was getting a little tired of Eva blowing hot and cold. “What—Jack’s not around to entertain you?”
“No. I mean, yes,” Eva said excitedly. “He’s having a party. It’s going to be huge. He asked if I had any friends I wanted to invite and I told him about you. He said you can come along!”
All of Amber’s earlier irritation at her friend was suddenly forgotten. “Really? I can come, too?”
“Yep,” Eva said. “And Jack said he’s sure we’ll be able to find a guy for you.” It was said slightly pityingly, as though, left to her own devices, Amber would have no hope of finding someone. But she ignored the slight. She was too happy at being included.
Then Eva pursed her lips. “There’s only one thing.”
“What?”
“You can’t be so uptight. These are real men. They will expect certain things,” she said, meaningfully stressing the last word. “Saca?”
Of course she understood. The last week, without Eva, had been terrible. She was prepared to do whatever it took this time to maintain their friendship.
* * *
The night of the party, Amber and Eva caught a taxi out to Jack’s house. A twenty-minute drive from Whitby, deep in the countryside, it seemed a curious place for someone young and single to want to live. Amber remarked on the fact in the cab and drew a withering glance from Eva.
“It was his parents’ place,” she explained briefly. “He stays here when he’s in the area. He moves around a lot.” The vagueness of the answer set the tone for the rest of the evening.
The drive took longer than it should have. The roads were empty, but they were also rough, unlit, and lacking signs. Eva, who had been out there several times already, was no help finding it.
“I’ve always been pissed when we’ve driven here.”
The taxi driver went past the turnoff for Keepers Cottage twice before he finally spotted an old piece of wood with white lettering on it. The first and third e’s were missing, so it read K ep rs Cottage.
The cottage itself was at the end of a narrow dirt track and turned out to be a fifties-style red-brick house with a tiled roof full of gaps. It stood on a patc
h of grass, which obviously passed for a garden. But instead of flowerbeds there were an upended motorbike waiting to be repaired and a broken swing. It was a stark, empty place. They had passed the nearest neighbor several miles back. A few cars were parked to the side, and a light shone through net curtains in one of the small windows. But otherwise the cottage was dark and still.
The taxi driver, a cuddly bear of a man, seemed uneasy about leaving the two young girls there. He looked suspiciously at the dark, looming house. Right now, it resembled the set of a horror movie.
“Sure you’ll be all right?” he asked, genuinely concerned. “I can drop you back in town if you want. No extra charge.” He had teenage girls himself, and there was no way he’d have let them spend the evening here. But Eva was already climbing out of the car.
“No, that will be all,” she said loftily, handing him a fifty-pound note. She didn’t wait around for the change.
The taxi driver shrugged. The tip was more than three times the fare. More money than sense. He pocketed the cash and drove away.
Inside, the house turned out to be a typical bachelor crash pad—a hodgepodge of furniture, threadbare carpets, and dirty crockery piled high in the sink. It wasn’t quite the palace Eva had made it out to be. In fact, Amber was beginning to realize that Eva had exaggerated a lot of things. Including Jack. With a squished nose—the result of a bar fight—and small, piggy eyes, he wasn’t exactly Brad Pitt.
“Jack!” Eva squealed when he opened the door, throwing her arms around him and kissing him firmly on the mouth. In her exuberance, she knocked his arm, spilling the can of beer he was carrying. He scowled and pushed her away slightly.
“Cut it out, Eva.”
Ignoring the warning tone, she grabbed his hand, staking her claim as his girlfriend.
“This is Amber,” she said then. “The one I was telling you about.”
Amber blushed as he looked her over.
“Cool,” Jack said, as though deciding he liked what he saw. “You should meet Billy,” he told Amber. “I reckon you guys’ll get on well.”
Amber wasn’t sure what had led him to conclude this, but she followed him and Eva through to the living room anyway. It was as unspectacular as the rest of the house. There were several people sitting around on beanbags and a beat-up sofa, listening to the Prodigy.
“Decided to keep it intimate. Just a few friends having beers,” Jack told them.
It was all much more casual than Amber was expecting. In fact, in her Donna Karan slip dress she was beginning to feel self-conscious. Apart from Eva, all the other girls—well, women to be more precise, because they looked like they were in their late twenties—were in jeans and hoodies. And that didn’t seem like such a bad idea, given that there didn’t appear to be any heating.
Jack’s friend, Billy, sat cross-legged by a scratched coffee table. Amber was pleased to see that he was more conventionally good looking than Jack; tall and well-built, with a buzz cut and a permanent five o’clock shadow. More of a man than the boys she was used to. He looked up at her with interest.
“Hey.” It seemed to be the standard greeting. He patted the cushion on the floor next to him. “Sit down here.”
She did as she was told. She was pleased when Eva and Jack sat down too. She wasn’t sure she was going to have anything much to say to this man.
Billy handed out beers from the cooler next to him. Amber would have preferred wine, but she couldn’t see any around, so she took the can he offered. The conversation was a little stilted at first, but after a few more drinks, everyone relaxed. It turned out the guys weren’t around much, which explained the state of the house and the strange musty smell that pervaded it. Jack was a long-distance trucker. Billy was “in between jobs.”
“I might do some traveling, so I don’t want to get tied down,” he explained.
Amber nodded gravely, hanging on his every word. She wondered how old he was. He seemed so worldly. He finished rolling a joint and held it out to her. She hesitated for a second. She’d smoked weed before, but never with strangers. Then she saw Eva frowning at her. “Go on,” she mouthed.
Amber didn’t want to seem uncool, so she took it. Billy smiled.
“Good girl,” he said.
Billy leaned over and brushed Amber’s curls away from her face.
“You’re really beautiful,” he told her.
She giggled. “I’m going to be a model some day,” she said, throwing back her head to pose.
He laughed with her. “Yeah, I could see that.”
It was a little while later, and Amber was drunk, stoned, and having the best night ever. The alcohol and drugs had eased her inhibitions. She felt confident, clever, and witty. It was just the four of them left now—her, Eva, Billy, and Jack—still sitting in the living room. She didn’t remember the others leaving. The four of them had played some drinking games, the girls deliberately losing because it seemed so amusing to get drunk. Somewhere along the way Eva had insisted on cheesier music—“Something I can sing to!” Now “Black Velvet” came on.
Amber squealed. “I love this song!” She got to her feet. “I wanna dance.”
She was a good dancer, but before, she had always been too shy to show off the moves she practiced alone in front of her bedroom mirror. Now she abandoned herself to the bluesy music. As Alannah Myles’s aching Southern voice filled the room, she swayed to the beat, running her hands over her hips. She was aware that both men were watching her, clapping and wolf-whistling encouragingly. She’d never felt so sexy. As the chorus kicked in, she raked her fingers through her blonde curls, then ran the tip of her tongue suggestively over her lips, enjoying having the attention focused on her for once.
As Amber danced, Eva tried to keep the conversation going, but she soon realized neither man was interested in what she had to say. She watched Jack watching Amber and for the first time felt jealous of her roommate. Before, she’d always had the upper hand because she was confident around guys—and more experienced, too. She had a feeling that was all about to change. For now, though, she wanted to stay in the limelight. So she joined Amber on the makeshift dance floor, and soon the two girls were competing to see who could come up with the most outrageous moves.
Jack leaned over to Billy. “Hell, this is better than a lap-dancing club,” he whispered gleefully.
Billy, who had just caught a glimpse of Amber’s pert breasts as she shimmied forward, growled in response.
A little while later, Jack grabbed Eva’s hand, and the two of them disappeared upstairs. Amber looked shyly and expectantly at Billy. It was the moment she had been waiting for. She’d hoped they might go up to a bedroom, too. But instead he pulled out the sofa bed in the living room, explaining that he’d taken to sleeping down here because it was warmer. He sat down on the mattress.
“Come and sit over here.”
She did.
It was over very quickly. That was the best thing she could say about the whole experience.
She liked the kissing. And when he reached under her skirt and caressed her through her panties, she’d definitely gotten turned on. After a little while he sat up and started to take his clothes off. She felt obliged to do the same. Naked and cold, she pulled the sleeping bag over her and waited for him. He joined her a moment later. When he reached between her legs, she thought that the touching might start again. But he must just have been feeling his way, because the next moment he removed his hand and started pushing inside her. He seemed to be having trouble, so she opened her legs wider and lifted her hips up a little, trying to make room for him. He stabbed at her some more. There was a moment of pain, and then finally he was inside her.
It occurred to her then that maybe she should have brought up the issue of contraception. But she didn’t want to ruin the mood.
He stopped thrusting for a moment and looked down at her. “You okay?” he asked.
She bit her lip and nodded, wondering when it was going to start to feel good. A moment l
ater he shuddered and cried out. Then he slumped on top of her.
Amber lay very still, staring up at the ceiling. Even with her limited experience, she could tell that it was all over. But was that really it? Where were the intense waves of pleasure that she’d learned to experience by herself; the slow buildup, that feeling of utter bliss, followed by the aftermath of quiet contentment? She wasn’t sure what she’d expected to feel, but it certainly wasn’t this hollow emptiness. For one horrible moment she felt utterly ashamed.
He rolled off her and handed her some tissues to mop herself up. Seeing how much stuff was seeping out finally forced her to bring up the sticky subject of contraception.
“Shit. I thought you were on the pill,” he said.
“No. Sorry.”
He got up, walked over to his toilet kit, and unzipped it.
“Here.” He tossed her a strip of four tablets labeled Plan B. “Take two now and two more in twelve hours. That should sort you out.”
It wasn’t exactly romantic. But then no one ever enjoyed their first time, did they?
Just as it was getting light, the guys called a cab for them. When they got back to Beaumont Manor, Amber offered to pay, as Eva had picked up the bill on the way out. But when she searched through her pockets, she found her wallet was missing. A call to Jack from the school’s pay phone revealed that it hadn’t turned up at his place.
“It must have dropped out in the other cab,” Eva said, as they got into bed. “Bastard taxi driver probably didn’t hand it in.”
Amber hmmed her agreement. It was already forgotten. Within seconds she was asleep, dreaming of Billy.
23
_________
Caitlin moaned softly. Lucien’s lips were on her breasts, his tongue brushing one nipple, then the other, his touch tantalizingly light. Tiny shivers of pleasure shot through her. It was a slow buildup, the kind he specialized in. His teeth bit gently at her, and she squirmed beneath him, feeling a fresh rush of moistness between her legs. Sure now of her arousal, his mouth grazed downward, trailing hot, wet kisses across her navel, as his hands went for the top button of her jeans. Only then did she reach down to stop him.