A Kiss in the Dark (7 page)

There was no point in denying it. Despite being spectacularly unobservant, Jamie really does know people. He can almost always tell what I’m thinking, and one of my favourite things about him is that he’s
always been able to cheer me up when I’m down. He just needs to crack a joke or do his Blue Steel Zoolander face.

‘I’m saying nothing. But you’d better not tell Mum and Dad, OK?’

He mimed locking his lips and throwing the key over his shoulder. ‘My lips are sealed. This secret will go with me to my grave. Or at least back to Aberdeen.’ He smiled. ‘I’m happy for you, sis. Really. And if you ever do want to talk about it, you know where I am.’

‘Hundreds of miles away?’

‘Smart arse. You know what I mean.’

The kettle had boiled so I poured the water myself. ‘Thanks, J.’

Jamie took the teaspoon from my hand and gave me a gentle shove. ‘Now off you go. But make sure you’re not early. You never want to be the first one there otherwise you look desperate. Have fun, OK? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

There wasn’t much Jamie wouldn’t do. But I’m pretty sure pretending to be a member of the opposite sex fell into that category.

On the way into town I mulled over the fact that Jamie hadn’t pushed to know more. He hadn’t asked who the ‘lucky’ boy was. I would have bet money on him asking that. It made me wonder if there was a
reason – other than him respecting my privacy. Maybe Jamie didn’t want to back me into a corner. Maybe he would have wanted to ask about the lucky
girl
.

I briefly wondered if I could talk to him about Kate before dismissing the idea immediately. Even if he was OK with the idea of me dating a girl, there was no way he would understand what I was doing. He’d insist I come clean, tell the truth. He might even tell Mum and Dad. No. Jamie had to stay firmly in the dark along with everyone else.

Kate was there before me again, but I didn’t think it made her look desperate at all. She was staring down at the ground, at the spot we’d arranged to meet. She looked up when I was a couple of paces away and smiled. ‘The Heart of Midlothian?’

A heart shape embedded in the cobblestones. It was supposed to be the exact centre of the county. And it was a
heart
; I thought it would be romantic. I’d forgotten that it was supposed to be good luck to spit on it. So essentially I’d arranged to meet Kate at a place with a whole lot of phlegm. I shrugged and looked sheepish.

I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed her. I felt like I was able to breathe again now that she was next to me. I felt more balanced somehow.

She had no idea where we were going. I took her hand and led her across the street to the entrance
to Mary King’s Close. Kate clapped her hands. ‘I’ve always wanted to go here! How did you know?!’

‘Just a hunch, I guess.’ It was hard not to look smug.

We went into the gift shop and joined the queue for our tour. A couple in their twenties were in the queue in front of us; they didn’t talk to each other at all. She gazed at the TV screen in the corner, twiddling her hair between her fingers, while he stared at his phone as if it held the key to the universe. I couldn’t stop looking at them, wondering if they’d just had an argument or if they were always like that.

I felt Kate lean in close to me. Lips brushing against my cheek. ‘Thank you for this,’ she whispered.

‘No worries.’

‘It feels like you
know
me.’

She couldn’t have said anything more perfect.

*

There were ten of us booked on the tour, including the most annoying kid in the world. A weaselly little boy who wouldn’t shut up when the tour guide was talking and kept on saying how boring it was and asking where the ghosts were. I was worried he was ruining it for Kate, but she just smiled at the kid indulgently and that made me feel bad for wishing he’d trip and smash his head open on a flagstone.

The tour guide was dressed up in character as some girl from the seventeenth century, but the American accent and the braces on her teeth kind of ruined the effect. Still, she knew her stuff. It was hard to concentrate on what she was saying when Kate slipped her hand into mine, our fingers locking together as if they’d always meant to be that way.

I kept on turning to look at Kate, to check that she really was enjoying herself. Every time I looked she was either listening carefully to the tour guide or smiling back at me. There weren’t any ghosts jumping out at us, which may have disappointed the annoying kid but not me. I don’t like surprises. It was still pretty creepy down there though. I didn’t like the waxwork models of plague victims; I kept on expecting them to move when I wasn’t looking.

One room was supposed to be haunted by a little girl whose family left her behind when she got the plague. Apparently some Japanese psychic had talked to her spirit or whatever. Total bullshit but there was something unsettling about the huge pile of toys people had brought down there and left for the ghost girl. Kate squeezed my hand and whispered, ‘It’s so sad.’ I was going to take the piss but thought better of it.

Right at the end of the tour we finally reached Mary King’s Close itself. We posed for the obligatory
cheesy picture (Kate insisted). We lingered behind the rest of the group as they made their way up to the top of the close towards the exit.

‘Just imagine what it must have been like, living down here!’ said Kate, and I just
knew
that she was actually imagining it, picturing what it would have been like centuries ago.

‘Just imagine the
smell
.’

Kate smiled and rolled her eyes. ‘Oh
you
.’

I shrugged. ‘Sorry.’

‘No need to apologize … it’s not your fault you have
no
imagination.’

I pulled a little frowny face that she must have found endearing because she said, ‘Come here, you,’ and that’s when it happened.

She kissed me.

Her lips were warm and soft on mine. It was better than I could have ever imagined. All memories of what had happened with Heather were blown away. This was how it was supposed to be.
This
was how you were supposed to feel when you were kissing someone you wanted to be kissing.

Kate pulled away first and looked at me shyly. I must have had the goofiest smile on my face because she took one look at me and laughed. ‘Was that … um … OK?’

I took a breath to try to calm my hammering heart. ‘That was definitely very OK.’

‘Maybe we should do it again sometime soon then.’

‘I think that would be acceptable.’

We held each other’s gaze for a few seconds before bursting out laughing.

*

After the tour we wandered along George IV Bridge towards the Elephant House. We walked in silence, occasionally meeting each other’s eyes and grinning. The kind of sight that would have made me want to puke a couple of months before.

Kate bought us both hot chocolates and we shared a slice of carrot cake. We sat snuggled up on the sofa by the fire and I tried to pretend we weren’t surrounded by tourists and rabid Harry Potter fans. I put my arm around Kate and she rested her head on my shoulder.

‘This is perfect, isn’t it?’ Her breath tickled my neck.

I mumbled my agreement; the hot chocolate was making me sleepy.

‘It makes me nervous, you know. It’s almost as if it’s too perfect and I’m just waiting for something bad to happen.’

I winced, but Kate didn’t see. ‘That’s not very
optimistic, is it? I thought you were all about the rainbows and pandas and happy things?’

‘I’m serious!’ A gentle elbow to my chest, grazing the bandages under my shirt.

‘I’m sorry. I’m listening … honestly.’ In actual fact I wanted to divert this conversation away from where it was heading. But Kate clearly wanted to say something. Most girls are like that – always wanting to talk about their feelings. I’ve always preferred to keep my feelings to myself, well away from public view. It’s safer that way.

Kate sighed. ‘I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I like how things are going with us. I mean, I know it’s early days.
Really
early days. But this feels like something … real.’

I closed my eyes.
Real
. It did feel like something real, and it
was
something real.

I nearly told her right then. And I think maybe I would have if we hadn’t been in the middle of a jam-packed coffee house. It seemed like she was waiting for me to say something – almost like she knew and was giving me a chance to tell her the truth. But she
didn’t
know; she was waiting for me to say something else – something reassuring.

‘It
is
real.’

‘Promise?’ Her voice was small and vulnerable.

‘Promise.’ I didn’t feel good saying that word, but it was what Kate needed to hear.

She sat up and sort of shook herself like a dog in the rain. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to get all intense. I suppose I can be a little … um … thinky sometimes. That’s OK, isn’t it?’

‘A little thinky is just fine with me.’

‘So you don’t think I’m a total weirdo?’

I paused and furrowed my brow. ‘Not a
total
weirdo, no.’

She gave me a fake withering look. ‘Thanks for that.’

I knew I needed to say something serious then. Something meaningful. It was all very well teasing her and trying to act too cool for school, but Kate deserved more. I took her hand in mine. Her fingers were longer than mine. I traced my finger around the silver band on her ring finger. ‘I like you, Kate.’ That wasn’t very meaningful so I tried again. ‘I’ve never met anyone like you before. I’m … I’m really glad you’re in my life.’ That wasn’t particularly great either but it was the best she was going to get.

Kate’s eyes widened and her face lit up and I knew that by some miracle I’d said the right thing. That was definitely one way that being a boy was easier than being a girl. You don’t have to make big poetic declarations
about your feelings. Pretty much anything you do say is a bonus, since the most people expect you to do is grunt and turn your attention back to Call of Duty or Halo or whatever. When expectations are so low, anything more than that is a bonus.

Kate kissed me on the lips. ‘I like you too, Alex.’

The happiness was almost too much to bear.

I didn’t see Kate for a whole week after that. It was half term and she went away on holiday with her mum. We weren’t even able to text that much – it was too expensive. I usually love half term – a temporary reprieve from school – but I felt lost without Kate to talk to. Not that we ever actually
talked
when we were apart. I hate talking on the phone – it’s a bit of a phobia of mine. For one thing, I hate my voice. It doesn’t sound anything like I’d expect me to sound like. Plus I always get tongue-tied, no matter who I’m talking to. There’s something about a phone call that seems like a trap to me – as if whoever’s on the end of the phone is waiting to catch me out in some way. I think maybe Kate felt the same way, because she never tried to call me. Or maybe it was something to do with the fact that our relationship started that way, so it seemed like the best way for it to continue.

Normally I’d be up at Bristo Square, but I hadn’t heard from Jonni or Fitz for a couple of weeks, and I wasn’t going to be the first one to get in touch. I had
some
pride, at least. I’d bought them the gig tickets – the least they could do was say thank you. I hadn’t skated since my first date with Kate. Suddenly it didn’t seem like something I wanted to spend my time doing. I wasn’t running nearly as much as I used to, either. I didn’t really want to spend my time doing anything apart from thinking about, seeing or talking to Kate. A lot of the time I ended up lying on my bed listening to the mortifyingly cheesy playlist I’d created the day after our first date.

Jamie eventually managed to drag me out of the house to go for a walk the day before he headed back to Aberdeen. Said it was time I stopped moping around being all emo. I think he thought my date had gone horribly wrong so he felt sorry for me. He wasn’t to know I was spending all my time daydreaming. Remembering that kiss. Imagining future kisses. It would never occur to him that I would be that lame. Mind you, it would never have occurred to me either. I was learning new things about myself every day and quite a few were things I would never want another human being to know about.

I tried to pay attention to Jamie’s stories about
university life and how
amazing
it was as he huffed and puffed his way up Arthur’s Seat. He’d have been able to run up that hill a couple of months before – he clearly wasn’t getting much exercise. As usual, he was juggling a couple of different girls, but reckoned one of them was a keeper – ‘the kind of girl I could bring home for a weekend’. Of course that got me thinking about Kate. She was the kind of girl I could bring home for a weekend. Except she lived in Edinburgh, so it would be a bit weird to bring her home for a weekend. And she was a girl, so I’d probably have some explaining to do to my parents first. And
I
was a girl so I’d have some explaining to do to Kate as well.

We didn’t hang around at the top of the hill; the wind was like having ice-cold daggers plunged into your ears. Jamie took a picture of us with his phone, both of us with our hats pulled down as far as they’d go. He posted it straight on Facebook: ‘Bonding with little sis up a big fucking hill’. Jamie likes to document his whole life online. It must make it harder to juggle all those different girls without them finding out about each other.

All the way home I kept thinking about that photo being on Facebook. Not worrying, exactly. But it made me uneasy. Jamie had a
lot
of friends. And what if one of them was friends with someone who
knew Kate? And what if she happened to be with them when they went on Facebook and saw a picture of me?
Little sis
.

By the time we got home the thinking had morphed into full-on paranoia. I asked Jamie to delete the picture, saying I looked crap, but he said no and pulled my beanie down over my eyes. Then I practically begged him to delete it and he told me to stop being so vain because it didn’t suit me, and besides we both looked good in the picture (good genes, he said). I stormed off to my room and slammed the door and I could hear him laughing and telling Mum.