A Kiss in the Dark (6 page)

‘Hi.’ Sounding as uncomfortable as I felt.

‘Hi.’ Heather didn’t sound at all uncomfortable.

There was a long silence, which I had to break with an insightful ‘Um …’

Heather smiled and rolled her eyes, as if my awkwardness was endearing. She glanced towards the door then walked over and sat down next to me. ‘You really don’t like getting changed in front of people, do you?’

‘What? I don’t—’

‘It’s OK, you don’t have to explain yourself.’

So I said nothing. Just waited to see what happened next.

‘You’re not big on talking, are you?’

I shrugged and Heather laughed. She shifted closer
to me on the bench. Our legs were nearly touching. My mouth was dry all of a sudden.

‘I’m not going to bite, you know.’ Her voice was a whisper now. Her hand was on my thigh. I could not believe what was happening.

‘What are you doing?’ I turned to face her. I had no other option, really.

Her face was really close to mine. Close enough for me to see the spot brewing just under her nose. ‘You know full well what I’m doing. I’ve seen you watching me.’ I had no idea what she was talking about. I didn’t watch her more than I watched anyone else – and it was kind of hard to avoid watching people, due to the whole ‘having eyes’ thing.

‘Um … sorry. But I really don’t think …’

And that’s when she did it. Closed her eyes and tilted her head and put her lips on mine. All the signs had been there (a hand on my leg, for Christ’s sake) but I still hadn’t seen it coming.

I froze. Her tongue was prodding at my closed lips, trying to find a way in. I jerked my head back, hitting it against the metal bar behind me. Heather looked surprised but then she leaned in again. I jumped up from the bench. ‘I’m sorry … I …’ My words trailed off when I saw the look on Heather’s face.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ She stood up and stalked back over to her side of the room.

I didn’t know what to do with myself. Should I say something? Go over to her? Say sorry again? I couldn’t decide so I did nothing.

Heather gathered up her things, stuffing her uniform into her bag. All her movements were sharp and forceful. She was furious.

When she was done she shouldered her bag and stomped over to the mirror. She smoothed down her hair and swept her fingers across her eyes. I could see the tears glinting from where I was standing. I had to say something before she left. ‘I’m sorry.’ I’m not sure exactly what I was apologizing for – I hadn’t done anything wrong, but it’s never good to make someone cry.

Heather swiped away another tear and took a deep breath before turning to look at me. ‘Don’t you
dare
tell anyone about this … If you breathe a word I swear I’ll …’ She didn’t finish the sentence so I never found out exactly what she planned to do if I told someone. Besides, I had no intention of telling anyone – ever. It was way too embarrassing.

One last look in the mirror then Heather stormed out. The bell went. I was twelve minutes late for English this time.

I didn’t tell anyone about what had happened. I don’t think Heather did either because a couple of days after that I saw her hanging out with Marcy Davies. She didn’t come back to training. As far as Heather Harris was concerned I did not exist. And that suited me just fine.

I kept myself to myself even more than usual after that, wrapping myself up in thoughts of Kate. But then Heather had to go and stumble round that corner with Marcy, shattering my peace and quiet.

Heather noticed me first. And I was sure she was going to stick to her new policy of ignoring me. But she made this big show of stepping away from me and dragging Marcy back with her. ‘I didn’t realize this was the designated dyke corner. They should put a sign up or something – warn the rest of us to steer clear.’

Marcy laughed in that way you do when you’re
not supposed to be laughing. ‘Heather! That’s
terrible
!’ But she was smiling; it was obvious she didn’t really think it was terrible at all. And there was something about the way Marcy was laughing that made it clear that this was not the first time my sexuality had been questioned. People must have been talking about me behind my back and I’d been too stupid to even realize.

I put my half-eaten apple back in my lunch box, then gathered the rest of my stuff together and stood up. I skulked away without saying anything. Their laughter followed me round the corner. It briefly occurred to me that Kate would never let these two girls get away with acting like this. She would say something. She would stand up for what she believed in. I was the worst kind of coward.

*

I didn’t talk to Heather again but I couldn’t help thinking about her, trying to work out what the hell had happened in the changing rooms that day. Had I done anything to encourage her? Had I led her on in some way? I was pretty sure I hadn’t. Not that I was in any way experienced with this stuff, but all I’d done was talk to the girl. I hadn’t said anything that would make her think that it was OK to kiss me. Maybe it had been a moment of madness on her part – a mistake that she’d instantly regretted as soon as she’d seen my
reaction. Or maybe she’d pounced on an unsuspecting girl before and things had worked out just fine. I’d never know the truth unless I asked her and there was no way that was ever going to happen.

I played the kiss over and over in my mind. It hadn’t felt
bad
, exactly. But it hadn’t felt right either. It wasn’t how I’d pictured my first kiss, that was for sure. I’d always thought it would be with someone I really liked. I’d always thought it would be with a boy. But the more I thought about it the more I wondered if I’d only ever thought about boys because that was the way I’d been conditioned to think. Way back when I was little, Barbie went with
Ken
. That was how things were supposed to be.

I couldn’t help wondering if Heather had recognized something in me. Something I’d never even realized myself. Had she
known
, somehow?

When I thought about Heather kissing me I’d try my hardest to imagine it was Kate instead. By the time my second date with Kate came along, I’d done so much imagining that sometimes it felt like the kiss had already happened. Of course, when it actually did happen, it was nothing at all like I’d imagined.

It was up to me to decide what we were doing for our second date. I reckon Kate was testing me, seeing whether I’d come up with something decent. I put a lot of thought into it – all the places I usually hung out suddenly seemed inadequate somehow. I wanted it to be special.

It was Jamie who gave me the idea in the end, not that he knew it. I was rummaging around in his room after school because I’d run out of hair gel. I was finding all sorts of interesting things in his desk drawer – condoms and Rizlas and porn. I wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t cleared out his drawers before he’d gone off to uni. Jamie wasn’t the sort of boy to care if his mum knew what he was up to – he knew his status as Number One Son and Golden Child was safe, no matter what. I eventually found a crusty-looking tube of hair gel, but I kept on looking out of pure nosiness.

I found it right at the bottom of the drawer. It was one of those cheesy pictures you get at tourist attractions. I had one in my room somewhere from a family trip to York Dungeons years ago. In that one, a twelve-year-old Jamie is swinging a fake axe at ten-year-old me’s head with a look of pure glee on his face. This photo was a lot more recent. It was in some dark underground place and Jamie had his arms around a girl. I recognized her but I couldn’t remember her name. She looked very happy to be in my brother’s arms.

The photo had been taken in Mary King’s Close. I didn’t know much about it other than the fact that it was a bunch of old streets and houses running under the Royal Mile. I vaguely remembered something about the plague, but history has never been my strong suit. It was supposed to be haunted, which was what made me think it would be the perfect place to take Kate. I didn’t know for sure that she hadn’t been there before, but it was worth a shot. She’d told me that she loved scary films even though she couldn’t help screaming whenever the killer jumped out from behind a bush or whatever. I got on the internet and booked the tickets (expensive, but worth it, hopefully), then texted Kate to tell her where to meet on Friday. She was desperate to know where we were going, but I was keeping quiet – I wanted to surprise her.

I was always in a good mood on Fridays because we got to go home at lunchtime. I was the first one out of the school gates and I ran all the way home. I’d arranged to meet Kate at two so we could spend as much time together as possible before she had to go to another bloody piano lesson.

I bandaged myself up and put on a black and red checked shirt, black jeans and my Converse. Looked in the mirror and decided something was missing, then added a grey beanie. I actually sort of liked the reflection looking back at me, although I’d never admit it to anyone in a million years. I went into the bathroom and started brushing my teeth. I’ve always been a bit obsessive about brushing my teeth – when I was little I used to do it after every meal and snack until Mum told me it would wear down my gums and my teeth would fall out.

Toothbrush in mouth, I wandered down the hall to Jamie’s room and opened up his wardrobe. There was a jacket of his I’d always liked and I was pretty sure he’d left it behind. I started rifling through the clothes on the rail, picking out a couple of old shirts that could work for me. Then a sleepy voice behind me said, ‘And what the heck do you think you’re doing, missy?’ I jumped a mile and spluttered on the toothpaste, spraying white gunk on to the shirts I was holding.

Jamie was sitting up in his bed, hair all over the place, yawning wide like a walrus. I scarpered back to the bathroom to rinse the foam out of my mouth and try to clean up the shirts.

‘Nice one, sis.’ Jamie stuck his head round the bathroom door. He was wearing an old faded T-shirt that was way too small for him and a pair of board shorts. He had a creased red mark on his face from the pillow.

‘Jesus Christ, Jamie! Are you trying to kill me?’

He smirked as he elbowed me out of the way to get to the mirror. Jamie’s always been a big fan of mirrors. ‘What kind of a welcome home is that?’

‘Sorry. Um … welcome home.’ I remembered I had the bandages on. What would Jamie say if he realized my boobs had magically disappeared? The shirt was fairly baggy, at least. And Jamie wasn’t exactly renowned for his powers of observation. It had taken him two weeks to notice that Dad had shaved off the moustache he’d had for seven years. I just had to make sure I kept Jamie talking to distract him – and get out of there as quickly as possible. ‘Do Mum and Dad know you’re here?’

‘Nah, I thought I’d surprise them. It was a bit of a last minute thing – a mate was driving down this morning, so I thought I might as well get a free ride.
Get some decent food, get some washing done, spend some time with my favourite sister.’

‘
Only
sister.’

He swiped the beanie off my head and ruffled my hair. ‘And that’s what makes you so
special
… So, are you going to explain what you were doing rummaging through my wardrobe? Missing me so much that you wanted to find a jumper to keep under your pillow?’

‘Yeah, that’s
exactly
what I was doing.’ I grabbed my beanie off him and put it back in place, making sure my fringe was just right. ‘Actually, I was looking for that jacket of yours? The black one?’

‘Jeez, I’ve only been gone a few weeks and already you’re scavenging my stuff! You’re out of luck with the jacket though. I gave it to Camilla – a little something to remember me by.’ He grinned. ‘Now … are you going to make me a cup of tea or what?’

‘You’ll have to get your own tea, you lazy waster. And while you’re at it, you could do your own washing too. This is the 21st century,
remember
?’

Jamie slung his arm around me and we walked through to the kitchen. ‘Ah, sis, you have so much to learn. Mum
likes
doing my washing. It makes her feel like she’s the mum off the gravy advert or something. Like she’s being a
proper
mother. So it’s really
very kind of me to allow her to do it for me … you see?’

I burst out laughing. ‘You are so full of shit!’ He didn’t really believe that stuff; he just liked winding me up.

He smiled like he’d achieved something. ‘Pleeeeaase make me a cup of tea, Alex? You have no idea how much I’ve missed your tea-making skills! No one at uni makes a decent cuppa.’

‘I thought uni was supposed to be all beer and cocktails and shots that can put you in a coma?’ I checked my watch – just enough time to stick the kettle on for Jamie then I’d have to motor.

Jamie hopped up on to the kitchen island. It was
his
spot. He grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and started munching away. ‘Yeah, well, that’s true … but you’ve got to have tea and toast
after
that – to soak up all that booze. Tea prevents comas, don’t you know?’

I rolled my eyes as I put just the right amount of milk in his favourite mug and chucked in a tea bag. ‘Right, I’m sure you can manage pouring the water … just remember to wait till the kettle’s boiled, yes? I’ve got to get going.’

‘But I was hoping for a bit of quality brother-sister time before the parentals get back! You’re not going to
leave me here all alone, are you?’ He pouted and you could see how he used to get away with murder when we were little.

‘Don’t blame me! You should have texted to say you were coming! I’ve got plans … and if I don’t get a move on I’m going to be late.’

‘Can’t you wait ten minutes and let me tag along? I’ve got no one to hang out with – everyone’s away! God, look what I’ve been reduced to … begging my baby sister to let me spend time with her. How the mighty have fallen!’ His words were garbled as he talked around a mouthful of apple.

‘No can do, brother dear. Let’s do something tomorrow though, yeah? A walk up Arthur’s Seat or something?’

Jamie sighed. ‘Don’t want me cramping your style, is that it?’ He looked at me slyly. ‘
Or
… do you have a hot date?’ My face must have reddened immediately because he leaped off the counter and wagged his finger at me. ‘That’s
it
, isn’t it! I
knew
it! I can read you like a book, sister dear, so there’s no point in lying to me. Come on, spill. I want details.’