Burning Bright Page 14

  ‘Your name?’ Ben asked again.

  ‘Natalia,’ I said.

  Ben moved a little closer to me. ‘I guess people call you Nat for short?’

  I stifled a giggle. Was that his idea of a chat-up line? Flynn would eat this guy for breakfast.

  A painful sob rose up inside me. I forced myself not to cry. I wasn’t going to think about Flynn.

  ‘Actually,’ I said huskily, ‘my friends call me Talia.’

  ‘I see.’ Ben nodded sagely, as if I’d just told him how to end world poverty. ‘Another drink?’

  I glanced down at the glass in my hand. It was nearly empty. I must have been drinking faster than I realised.

  Keeping my eyes on Ben’s face, I took a long swig, finishing the glass. ‘Yes, please,’ I said. ‘I want to get off my face.’

  Ben’s cold eyes practically glinted. He handed me Emmi’s cocktail. ‘Looks like your friend has got her own drink.’ I followed his gaze to where Emmi, fresh glass in hand, was chatting with a tall, good-looking guy I’d never seen before on the edge of the dance floor.

  ‘D’you want to sit down for a moment?’ Ben said.

  ‘Sure.’ Was I slurring? How embarrassing. Maybe it would be good to sit down for a bit. Ben led me over to an empty booth then squeezed in beside me.

  The music was still loud, but it was easier to hear each other.

  ‘You seen that new horror movie?’ Ben said, looking sideways at my chest again. ‘I can’t remember the name, but it’s the one with the headless zombies – ZombieTown or ZombieWorld . . . something like that . . .’

  I shook my head, wondering vaguely why looking at my boobs was making him think about zombies. Ben proceeded to describe a battle scene from the movie in some detail. I tuned out totally after about ten seconds, concentrating only on my drink.

  ‘Sounds great,’ I said when he stopped to draw breath. I looked across the room. Grace and James were still deep in conversation. Emmi was still talking to the good-looking guy. He was leaning over her and she was smiling up at him.

  Well, if Emmi could flirt with other people when she was going out with Alex, why shouldn’t I flirt with Ben? After all, Flynn had lied to me. He didn’t care about me.

  Stop thinking about him.

  I focused on Ben’s face again. ‘Thanks for the drinks,’ I said.

  ‘No problem.’ A lustful smile curled across Ben’s lips.

  I wanted to tell him my boyfriend was really clever. Smart and witty and the most amazingly talented actor I’d ever met.

  Except how could Flynn be my boyfriend anymore? Whatever he said, what could justify him gloating about stealing iPads? What could excuse that wad of money and the girl in the bikini? I fingered the silver bracelet around my wrist, feeling for the tiny heart that dangled from the chain. How ironic that it was still whole . . . while my real heart inside me was broken. No. How ironic that my real heart inside me was still beating, while—

  ‘You feeling all right, Talia?’ Ben said.

  Who? Then I remembered my fake name and giggled. The room was spinning slightly. Ben’s face loomed closer. There was a dark drink stain in the corner of his mouth. I stared at it, transfixed.

  And then his mouth lunged at my face.

  Contact. His lips were all full and fleshy. He started gnawing away at my face. It was so bad, it was almost funny. I pushed him away.

  Ben drew back, looking confused. ‘What’s up, Talia?’

  I giggled again. ‘Just too much to drink,’ I said.

  I really wanted to go now. I started edging round the side of the booth Ben had pushed me into. But he followed me round.

  ‘Don’t go,’ he said.

  Before I could stop him his mouth was clamped over my lips again. I opened my mouth to say ‘no’, trying to push him away with my hands, but Ben simply kissed me harder. His tongue pushed inside my mouth.

  Ugh. It was all thick and slimy, like a slug.

  I gagged, which unfortunately Ben seemed to interpret as me getting into the kiss. He ran his hands up my top, groping roughly at me.

  Now I thought I really was going to be sick. It was disgusting. He was disgusting. This time I managed to push him away and wriggle out of the booth. Ben grabbed at my hand, but I shook him off and headed for James and Grace.

  The floor seemed to sway underneath me. I was staggering as I walked.

  I was suddenly reminded of the evening when I’d got drunk and Flynn had seen me be sick. I’d wanted him to kiss me and he hadn’t, but he’d rubbed my arms to warm them in the cold night air.

  Tears started streaming down my face. I heard Ben’s voice behind me. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Go away,’ I said. ‘Please.’

  ‘Right.’ His voice hardened. ‘Just after the drinks, were you?’

  I turned around. ‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t know.’ I really was slurring now. ‘I’m sorry but I’m not interested.’

  ‘Yeah? Why’s that? Cos you’ve had enough now?’

  No. It’s cos you’re stupid and you’ve got a tongue like a slug. And . . . and you’re not him.

  Ben swore loudly then stomped away. I slid to the floor, my body racked with sobs. Why had Flynn lied to me? I didn’t care what he’d done, but I couldn’t bear the thought that he didn’t love me.

  ‘River?’

  I looked up.

  James was leaning over me, looking concerned. ‘Are you okay?’ He frowned. ‘Did that guy upset you?’

  I got up, wiping my tears furiously.

  ‘I’m fine.’ I took an extremely unsteady step past him then nearly fell again. James grabbed my arm. Someone else caught me round the waist.

  I looked around. It was Emmi. Grace was here too, her eyes anxious. They led me over to a seat and let me lie there, my head spinning for a few moments while they spoke to each other. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but soon James was back, tugging me upright again.

  He put his arm round me and helped me walk out of the club. Grace trotted along on my other side. She was speaking rapidly in my ear, but I could only take in about half of what she said.

  ‘You’re in such a state . . . Emmi’s met up with some guy she knows, so she’s going to stay for a bit but we’re going to get a cab . . . take you home . . . I’m calling your mum . . .’

  ‘Home?’ I just managed to get the word out.

  ‘Of course,’ James muttered. ‘I can’t leave you like this.’

  I looked at him, sure I knew what he was thinking: Flynn wouldn’t like me to leave you like this.

  ‘Don’t s’pose he cares,’ I mumbled, pulling my arm away.

  James frowned. ‘I don’t think that’s true, River.’

  ‘Whatever.’ I bit my lip.

  James steered me onto the pavement. It was a chilly night, but although I could see the skin on my arms raised in goosebumps, I didn’t actually feel cold. It took a few minutes to find a cab. James helped me and Grace into the back and the three of us sat down in a row, with James in the middle. I closed my eyes. My head was spinning but I didn’t feel sick.

  James and Grace chatted quietly for a few minutes then the cab grew silent. I opened my eyes and looked around.

  Grace was fast asleep in the far corner of the back seat.

  ‘Are you all right, River?’ James asked.

  I stared at his kind, anxious face. Tears pricked at my eyes.

  ‘Fine,’ I lied.

  ‘I don’t believe he did it,’ James said quietly. ‘Flynn, I mean.’

  I sniffed. ‘Don’t want to talk about him.’

  I looked round at Grace again. She was still sound asleep, her lips slightly parted and her breathing steady and regular.

  ‘You and Grace are so great together,’ I said, squeezing James’s arm. ‘You do love her, don’t you? Because she’s nuts about you and I think you’re both lovely.’ I beamed up at him.

  Poor James looked extremely embarrassed. He gazed past me, out of the window. We were speeding down
half-empty streets. I had no idea where we were. Everything felt surreal. The window beside me was a little way open, wind rushing through across the top of my hair.

  ‘I miss him,’ I said.

  Damn. Why had I said that? Stop it, River.

  But I couldn’t stop.

  ‘D’you think Flynn’s going out with that girl in the picture?’ I clutched at James’s arm more tightly.

  ‘No, I’m sure he isn’t,’ James said.

  ‘James.’ He recoiled as I drew closer. ‘Are you really sure?’

  ‘Well . . . no,’ James stammered. ‘But he’s . . . he’s all into you.’

  Yeah right. What else was James going to say.

  My eyes welled up with tears. ‘Oh, God,’ I wailed.

  ‘River?’ James voice was pleading. ‘Please just calm down. I’m sure Flynn still—’

  ‘Don’t,’ I spat. ‘Don’t say he still loves me. Don’t say he still anything.’ Fury coiled itself in my throat. ‘He’s a liar and a thief and . . .’

  ‘He never—’

  ‘Don’t defend him.’ I broke down again, squeezing my eyes tight shut. The cab started spinning. I could feel myself sliding down the seat. I looked up. I was slumped half across James. I reached up, hooked my arm round his neck and hauled myself up.

  ‘Oh James,’ I wept, leaning against his chest. ‘I love him so much I think he’s made me allergic to other men. Seriously. That boy earlier, he tried to kiss me and it was disgusting.’

  James laughed nervously and patted me on the back.

  I shuddered, remembering Ben’s slug tongue. That kiss had made me want to vomit. Suppose all kisses did that from now on?

  And then I had an idea. A very bad idea. I looked up. ‘Let me kiss you, James,’ I said. ‘Just to see. Not a big one, just a little kiss to make sure it doesn’t make me feel sick, like it did with . . . with . . . Slug Tongue.’

  James stared at me in horror. ‘River, you cannot be . . .’

  ‘Go on,’ I wheedled drunkenly. I moved in on him, my mouth just centimetres away from his. ‘Just so I can see it doesn’t make me wanna puke.’

  ‘You want to kiss me to see if it makes you feel sick?’

  ‘No. Not sick. Oh for goodness sake.’ I pressed my lips against his. Neither of us moved. I started laughing. And as my mouth relaxed, it sort of moved against James’s – like a reflex action. Then his moved against mine. And we were kissing. His lips were smooth and soft. And the kiss was . . . well . . . nice. Not hot. Nowhere near as passionate as Flynn’s kisses, but still nice.

  I had a sudden memory of Grace telling me and Emmi that James was a good kisser.

  Grace.

  I sprang away from James and slapped my hands over my mouth.

  ‘Oh God,’ I hissed, frantically. ‘I am so sorry, James.’

  We both looked round at Grace. She was still fast asleep, curled up in the far corner of the cab.

  I shrank into my own corner, completely horror-struck. How could I have done that? How could I have been so selfish that I forgot James was going out with my friend . . . my good friend. I was a terrible, evil, loathsome person. I was scum.

  I felt James’s hand on my shoulder and shrank away.

  ‘River.’ He sounded half angry, half amused. ‘Shut up.’

  I stared at him. Had I been saying those thoughts out loud?

  ‘You’re not terrible or evil or whatever,’ he grinned. ‘You’re just ridiculously drunk.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I whimpered.

  ‘Don’t be.’ James shrugged, his cheeks scarlet. ‘Look, forget it. Seriously. I mean it. Forget it. It’s not a big deal. Okay?’

  I knew what he was saying. Don’t say anything to Grace.

  I was too drunk still to work out whether that was the right thing to do or not, but I nodded anyway.

  James sat back. Then he glanced over again. ‘Just tell me one thing,’ he said. ‘And we’ll never mention this again.’

  I nodded.

  He lowered his voice. ‘Did you feel sick just now? It’s just I’d like to think I was doing better than Slug Tongue.’

  23

  I woke up the next morning racked with guilt. My first instinct was to rush around to Grace’s house and confess what I’d done. But as I thought it through I realised how selfish that would be. However hard I tried to explain to Grace that the kiss had been an accident that had only lasted a nano-second, I knew all she would hear was that it had happened in the first place. A confession would probably ruin everything between her and James, not to mention our own friendship. Plus, James had asked me not to tell her because it was meaningless. Which it was. ‘A few seconds of lip contact’ – as Flynn had once described such kisses – that had led nowhere.

  Anyway, the last thing I needed was a bust-up with my friends. Mum had been white-faced when James and Grace had delivered me home. I’d been expecting her to shout at me, but she just helped me upstairs and put me to bed saying we’d ‘talk in the morning’.

  My head was sore but I didn’t feel too bad, considering. I sat up and glanced at my clock. It was nearly eleven a.m. Mum had obviously let me sleep in rather than go to school. I heard her footsteps on the stairs and braced myself.

  I’d gone out without leaving any message. I’d got drunk. I’d come home in the middle of the night.

  She was going to be furious. And I couldn’t blame her.

  I looked down at my hands in my lap as she walked in. She crossed the room silently and sat on the edge of the bed.

  ‘River?’

  I looked up.

  Mum was dressed for work but not wearing any make-up. There were dark shadows under her eyes. A tray with soup and toast was in her lap.

  ‘I brought you something to eat,’ she said, handing me the tray.

  I took it and balanced it on the bed. ‘Thank you.’ I held my breath, waiting for the torrent of rage to rain down on me.

  There was a long pause.

  ‘You can’t do this anymore,’ Mum said eventually, her voice flat, but calm. ‘D’you have any idea how worried I was when I spoke to Emmi’s mum and found out you girls had run off somewhere?’

  She didn’t sound angry at all. More exhausted.

  I looked away.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I mumbled. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  ‘So you say.’ Mum sighed. ‘But there have to be consequences.’

  I nodded. What was coming now?

  ‘Your dad has asked for you to go and stay at the commune once we get to the Easter holidays. I’d send you now, but I’m aware you’ve got practice tests for your GCSEs this week, haven’t you?’

  Jeez. In all the turmoil over Flynn I’d completely forgotten the tests that started tomorrow. Oh, well, I’d get them over then it wouldn’t be too long to the end of term. Maybe it wouldn’t even be so bad to spend a couple of weeks with Dad.

  Mum sighed again. ‘I thought it best to let you sleep it off this morning. You can do some work in your room, go to school tomorrow.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said.

  ‘Grace and James told me about Flynn’s Facebook page.’ Mum hesitated. ‘I hope it shows you that you’ve had a lucky escape from that boy.’

  I looked down. The sick, miserable feeling I’d had yesterday surged through me again, filling every cell in my body. I wanted to stick up for Flynn but the words lodged in my throat. After all, it was possible Mum was right. Not that I wanted to admit it to her.

  Mum reached across the duvet and took one of my hands in hers. ‘I know you don’t believe this, but I understand how you feel.’ She squeezed my hand. ‘I know how hard it is to be disappointed and let down . . . to be in love and it to not work out . . .’

  My cheeks burned.

  ‘So I’m not going to give you a hard time about last night. But I do expect your solemn promise that you will never run off like that without telling me. Not ever again. Deal?’

  I nodded. ‘Deal,’ I mumbled. Jeez, why was she being so nice?
The miserable sick feeling was like a dead weight inside me.

  ‘Good.’ Mum laid my hand down and patted it. ‘Eat your soup. I’m off to work in a few minutes. You get on with your revision.’

  She stood up. And I remembered.

  ‘Mum, I left all my school stuff at Emmi’s,’ I said. ‘I need to go round there and pick it up.’ This was perfectly true, but I was worried, under the circumstances, that Mum would think I was trying to trick her.

  ‘No problem,’ Mum said. ‘I’ll drive you over once you’ve eaten. Emmi’s mother is in . . . I spoke to her earlier. You can go in, pick up your stuff and I’ll bring you back home.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, wondering again why she was being so nice.

  Mum disappeared into her room and I nibbled at my toast and sipped at my soup. Though I hadn’t felt hungry when I’d started eating, the food made me feel better. After a few minutes Mum returned, now wearing make-up.

  She took my tray.

  ‘Get dressed,’ she said. ‘I’ve spoken to Emmi’s mum. We’re going over there in five minutes.’

  I got out of bed and slowly dragged on a pair of sweats and my trainers. My phone was lying on the floor where I’d left it last night. I switched it on.

  It vibrated immediately. Flynn was calling.

  I stared, shocked, at his name on the screen. This was too sudden. I needed to speak to him, but I wasn’t prepared. What was I going to say? And Mum would be back in a second, expecting me to be ready to go out.

  Flynn was the last person she’d want to find me talking to.

  My hand hovered over the buttons,

  ‘River!’ Mum yelled up the stairs. ‘Let’s go!’

  The phone vibrated again. No way could I speak to him right now. I pressed the red button to cut off the call, then turned off the phone.

  ‘Coming!’ I yelled. I grabbed a jumper and scurried out of the room.

  Mum talked about work as we drove to Emmi’s. I didn’t say much. My head still hurt – moving about wasn’t helping – and it was easiest just to let her chatter on.

  ‘So it’s not just the Easter holidays. Your dad wants you to spend the whole summer at the commune,’ Mum said, changing tack. ‘I think it’s a good idea for you to have a total break from your life here.’ She threw an anxious sideways glance at me. ‘You’re not going to be difficult about that, are you, River?’