***
“Is there something you want to tell me?” Jenna teased Beatrice later as they climbed the stairs to their room.
“Like what?” Beatrice was genuinely confused.
“Like you and Gabriel Brenner. You dark horse! Are you guys having a secret fling or something” Because if you are you totally gave the game away.”
“What are you talking about?” Beatrice was quietly thrilled that Jenna would even consider it a possibility.
“That hilarious scene at the end.” Jenna started to laugh thinking about it.
“Hilarious?” Beatrice looked stricken. It was supposed to be sad and poignant, not funny!
“Yeah, totally hilarious. Owen Lang jumping up and down shouting ‘cut’ like it was a film set or something, and you and Gabriel openly smooching completely oblivious to his tantrum. He was literally going to rip the two of you apart if you’d carried on much longer.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, totally flipped out. So are you and Gabriel having a thang” Because it sure looked like it. For someone who was supposed to be dying he was giving you a tongue-full!”
“Don’t be silly. Why would someone like Gabriel go for someone like me?” Beatrice kept her voice neutral.
“Why not?” Jenna actually seemed genuinely surprised. Beatrice wanted to hug her in that moment; no one else would surely think it at all likely, but how nice that Jenna was acting as if it were.
“I’m afraid not, sorry.” Beatrice gave her a rueful smile. “Gabriel is a consummate professional when it comes to acting.”
“Bull! He was still kissing you long after he was supposed to be dead, and you both looked like you were enjoying it. You must have kissed before, it wasn’t remotely awkward between the two of you. I could tell, and so could Owen.” Jenna began to giggle again at the memory.
“Well, we have rehearsed the kissing a bit,” Beatrice confessed.
“Rehearsed it a lot I would say.” Jenna nudged her suggestively. “So what about Owen?”
“What about Owen?” Beatrice knew what Jenna was really asking. Back when the two of them had been close friends, Beatrice had confided in Jenna about her feelings for Owen Lang. Jenna had been unable to see what Beatrice saw in him, but she had been sympathetic over his cold treatment of Beatrice.
“Well, do you like him anymore? I think you and Gabriel surprised him with your tongue session, and he definitely didn’t like it. It looked like jealousy to me.”
“There were no tongues,” Beatrice said absentmindedly and not altogether truthfully. She was trying to weigh up how she felt about the possibility that Owen might be jealous. But the reality was that he had probably just been cross about them kissing a bit more than was necessary for the scene. She wasn’t sure why they had kissed for that long. She only knew that Gabriel had made her feel “in the moment” and that she had forgotten everyone else was even there. She certainly hadn’t been thinking about Owen.
Would Owen care even a tiny bit that she had kissed Gabriel?
***
“Why do you care so much that I was kissing Beatrice?” Gabriel folded his hands behind his head and relaxed on his bed. “You’ve made it clear that you don’t want her.”
Owen continued his furious pacing of their room. “That isn’t the point, Gabe!”
Nate Naverly, who was sitting at his desk, swung round in his chair to observe the scene better, and Jerry Doury, who was sitting on his bed cleaning mud off his rugby boots ahead of the game the next day, also looked at Owen with interest.
The four of them had shared a room for nearly six years now and there were very few secrets among them. They had certainly never rowed over a girl before.
“What is the point?” Gabriel goaded.
“Well, you know, the play…” Owen kicked his own desk chair out of his path. “Look, Gabe, I know you were upset when Vanessa dumped you…”
“I dumped her, and well you know it!” Gabriel growled, momentarily irritated.
“Whatever, but that doesn’t explain why you were kissing Beatrice like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you fancy her! I mean, get real!”
Gabriel shrugged. “Don’t see why I shouldn’t. She’s not bad-looking. And she is a great kisser.”
Nate smirked. He could see Gabriel was deliberately winding Owen up, and it was working.
“Had a lot of practice, have you?” Owen was certainly taking the bait.
“Well yes, now you come to mention it, I think I can honestly say we have had a lot of practice.”
“But she’s hardly your type, she’s fat and ugly for a start!”
“Oh, that’s not true,” Jerry interjected hotly. “I think she’s quite pretty actually.”
“Et tu, Brute?” Nate joked, as Owen turned on Jerry.
“You think she’s pretty?” Owen asked.
Jerry looked at Gabriel for help, but Gabriel just smiled at the ceiling. “Yes, Owen, I think she’s pretty, and she has a nice personality too.”
Owen rounded on Nate. “And what about you? You fancy her as well I suppose?”
Nate held up his hands. “Not me, Gov. Ellie would barbeque my balls if I said yes. But I have to admit she’s got a certain something about her.” Nate looked at Gabriel. “You should have a proper crack at her, see if you can get to second base.”
“Already have, my friend,” Gabriel looked smug.
Owen mouthed soundlessly for a few seconds and then slammed out of the room.
They all waited until his footsteps could no longer be heard and then they began to laugh.
Chapter Twelve
“Though sympathy alone can't alter facts, it can help to make them more bearable.”
Bram Stoker, Dracula
Rose eventually located Grace in their shared bathroom. She had checked the bedroom earlier but found it empty; she hadn’t thought to look in the bathroom.
She sat down on the floor next to Grace and put an arm around her.
“What on earth’s the matter, hon? I got a cryptic text from Sophie saying that you and I needed to talk. Have I done something to upset you?”
Grace scrubbed her face with the corner of her sleeve, trying to eradicate the last trace of tears.
“Oh, Rose, I can’t tell you. But I promise it’s not you. You’re great, I’m the one who’s a bad friend.”
Rose looked alarmed. “You have to tell me now. I’ll worry myself to death otherwise.”
“I can’t,” Grace hung her head, “you’ll hate me.”
“I don’t care what it is, I’ll never hate you, OK? We’re forever friends.” Rose reached for the loo roll as Grace began to cry again.
“You will. I’m so sorry, the thing is…” Grace hiccupped and sniffed into the tissue, “God, I don’t know how to say this…I’ve been in love with your boyfriend for years.”
“Oh.” Rose pulled away ever so slightly. “Does Leo know?”
“Not Leo.” Her tears began to fall, “Ben. I’m so sorry.”
“Ben?” Rose blinked, trying to take it in. “You’re in love with Ben?”
Grace nodded and blew her nose. “All that time you were together, I tried really hard to meet someone else but they don’t compare. He’s so amazing. He’s kind and generous and everybody likes him. He’s handsome and talented, do you know he plays the piano at a grade nine?” Her voice softened as she thought about him, “He loves the sea; his brothers like cars but Ben likes boats, he prefers the quiet of the ocean to the noise of a racetrack. Every summer his parents rent a gîte in the south of France and he sails every day. Sometimes he goes fishing with his dad, he knows how to fillet a fish and cook it right there on the boat. He goes blonder in the sun and gets a million freckles on his shoulders.” She stopped, realising who she was talking to.
“Go on,” said Rose gently.
Grace found she couldn’t stop, she’d bottled all the information inside herself for too long, “His favourite colour is
yellow. Every day he gets toast and beans for breakfast but he never eats the beans, he just likes the toast soggy from the sauce. His favourite drink is lemonade, he likes it with loads of ice. He’s scored seven tries this season in rugby, twelve last year, as well as one drop-goal. He’s an Aquarius, his horoscope said that he would have a trouble in his home life today if he didn’t watch his finances. I know his timetable backwards, I know everything about him. And I know he’s still in love with you.”
“Good gracious! How on earth do you know all that?”
“Because I listen when he talks, even though he was talking to you, not me, most of the time.”
“I don’t remember him saying all that.” Rose handed Grace some more tissue. “You’ve got it bad, huh?”
Grace sniffed some more, “How much do you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you at all, you moron! I might have been a bit miffed when Ben and I were together, but even then I didn’t feel half as strongly as you clearly do. I probably would have ended it years ago if I’d known! I’m completely in love with Leo. I like Ben, but only as a friend.”
“But I’ve been lusting after your boyfriend, whilst you were going out with him! It’s just so not cool. I feel like the worst friend ever.”
Rose hugged her. “You’re the nicest friend ever. You chose our friendship over a boy all this time. Not every girl would have done that. Now, stop crying, because it’s making you resemble a bullfrog. You’ve gone all puffy, and you won’t get Ben looking like that.”
Grace hugged her back, “But I don’t want to get Ben, not when he’s still hung up on you. And even if he wasn’t, he’s now getting off with Jenna Mayhew, so it’s a moot point.”
“Pah, you are a million times better suited to him than Jenna. She’s all looks and no brains.”
Grace sniffed some more, “I wish that were true, but she’s really clever too. She’s prettier than me and smarter than me. I’m just so incredibly average in every way. You and Sophie always get noticed, but I never do.”
“Oh, Grace, please don’t think like that, you get loads of attention, you’re just downright fussy. Lets deal with the Jenna issue later. I’ve got to get you to realise that, first of all, I don’t care about you liking Ben, and secondly, that Ben doesn’t still care about me. I talked to him when I got together with Leo and he was fine about it, not that bothered at all.”
Grace shook her head, “I’m sure you’re wrong. He’s just good at hiding his feelings.”
“We’ll see.” Rose was sure she wasn’t wrong. “In the meantime, how about we get Sophie on the case? She’s much better in these situations than me.”
Grace nodded, just very glad it was all out in the open at last. It was a massive weight off her shoulders that she hadn’t even realised she was carrying around.
If Rose was truly OK with it, then maybe she should fight for Ben?
Chapter Thirteen
“What a fine fellow is Quincey! He bore himself through it like a moral Viking. If America can go on breeding men like that, she will be a power in the world indeed.”
Bram Stoker, Dracula
The following day dawned a bright and sunny spring morning. The whole school seemed in chaos, as it was a Saturday and the last day of term. Parents weren’t supposed to pick up their offspring until after four p.m. or on the Sunday morning, but quite a few had turned up early to watch the First Fifteen Team play a rugby match at three p.m. that afternoon.
Grace, Rose, Sophie and Diana met up with Alex and Leo in the West Tower Common Room and then the six of them walked together down to the school playing field. They were all muffled up warmly in the weak sun. Standing around on the edge of the pitch for eighty minutes in early April would get very chilly after a while.
Grace in particular was freezing. She wore two jumpers and a puffer jacket, but despite the hard chill in the air she had also donned the yellow and green kilt as promised. She wore it with thick black tights and an extra pair of socks under knee-high boots, but she could definitely feel the cold wind around the top half of her legs. She wished the skirt was made of wool like a traditional Scottish kilt, rather than just being a fashion item made of cotton. The silk lining inside did absolutely nothing to help either. She jumped up and down a few times to keep her circulation up.
A great cheer went through the crowd as the home team jogged onto the pitch. A more muted cheer followed as Clifton came out behind them. In rugby it was considered bad form to heckle the opposing team, and tries and conversions scored by either side were supposed to be applauded equally; not that they were, of course.
Beatrice and Jenna joined the spectators, right next to the West Tower group.
“Good luck, Ben,” Jenna shouted, with a side glance at Grace.
Torrin Frazer gave Sophie a little wave before taking his seat on the bench, then both teams lined up for kick-off.
Half an hour into the game, the scores were level, but it was obvious Compass Court had the advantage. Jerry Doury and his brother Ralph, who was in Year Seven, made up the formidable front row along with Dave Larimore, and their combined weight was obviously significantly heavier than Clifton’s, as they pushed their pack over time and again. But the grass was slippery from all the recent rain, and ball handling was clearly difficult for both teams.
The Compass Court supporters began to roar as Rohit Mehra took the ball up the centre, and made it almost the full length of the pitch before anyone caught up to tackle him. Rohit flicked the ball out to Owen Lang, and it should have been an easy Try for Compass, but Owen fumbled his catch and dropped it for the third time in a row. Everyone collectively groaned as it bounced over the touchline.
As both teams took their places for a lineout, Coach Webley called Owen off and put Torrin in as his replacement.
Everyone clapped Owen politely, as he stamped off to the bench looking livid.
The effort on the pitch ramped up as it drew close to half-time. Clifton were now leading by three points after a penalty kick and Compass were giving it their all to level the score.
Jerry caught a long kick and began a slow but steady move down the field. He didn’t try to run around the opposition but instead smashed straight through them, leaving a trail of dazed players behind him. An enormous Cliftonian finally brought him down only yards from the try line and Jerry spun the ball recklessly behind him, unable to check if he had any support. Putting on a burst of speed, Torrin picked it out of the air and flung himself over the line, sliding across the grass on his stomach as he hit the ground with forward momentum.
Jasper Clements converted the try as the whistle blew, and Compass finished the first half four points up.
Sophie screamed and jumped up and down, madly blowing kisses to Torrin.
Beatrice felt dreadfully sorry for Owen, who was clearly gutted that Torrin had scored. She bravely gave him a wave, but he just looked even more grumpy and turned away.
Grace watched Ben walk back to the changing rooms with a slight limp. He was sweaty and covered in mud, but she thought he’d never looked more gorgeous.
The second half was a mess. The wet pitch had been churned up so much in the first half that the players kept slipping over. Each time the ball went wild a maul would ensue and there were lots of injuries. Nate Naverly swore profusely as his handsome face became the recipient of a firm boot print, and Owen was called back off the bench as Rohit pulled a hamstring, an injury which looked incredibly painful.
With ten minutes to go and no further points scored, both teams began to get tired and desperate.
A scrum was organised on the half-way line and both sides heaved against each other. Mud flew and the scrum became a ruck. Ben, playing flanker, disappeared under a mass of bodies as players piled on; the ball was nowhere in sight and the referee madly blew the whistle.
As the players got to their feet it became obvious something was wrong. Coach Webley ran on to the pitch and everyone moved back.
Ben was lying on the ground
unconscious.
Grace gave a scream, her hand flew to her mouth, and without thinking she ran onto the pitch.
“Grace, stop!” Rose yelled, grabbing her arm. “You can’t, sweetie. Just wait a minute. He’ll be alright.” Grace realised what she was doing and nodded. Rose led her back to the others.
Jenna tilted her head to one side looking at Grace. “Thought so,” she said.
Grace gave her a look of pure loathing, but Jenna had turned back to the pitch. Two men ran on with a stretcher and lifted Ben on to it. He sat up looking confused. Grace breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Ben tried to get off the stretcher but the coach could be heard shouting right across the field, “Are you mad? Of course you can’t play on, you were knocked unconscious, for Pete’s sake! Take him into the gym.”
Everyone cheered as the stretcher was carried off the field and Ben lay there waving like the Queen.
Grace bit her lip, looking from Ben to Jenna.
Jenna took pity on her. “Come on, we’ll both go.”
Grace looked uncertain but Rose gave her a push in the back. “Tell him we hope he’s OK.” Rose smiled encouragingly.
Grace nodded and followed Jenna towards the gym.
As Grace walked into the gym, she saw Ben was sitting up, and grinned with weak relief.
“Hey, gorgeous,” said Jenna. Grace stopped smiling.
Jenna sat down next to Ben and stroked the hair off his forehead. “That’s quite some bump you’ve got there.”
Grace shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. “I’ll go,” she said, “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”
“No, wait,” said Jenna. Turning to Ben she continued, “Guess what Grace did when you were knocked out? She ran onto the pitch.”
Flirting Games Trilogy Edition: Books 1 - 3 Page 21