Fake (17 page)

His horrible sister.

Aaron Winter.

Chay's strange behaviour.

My mum.

And my father's request.

I shake my head. ‘I don't want to talk.' One hand slides up across his chest and the other follows. The muscles contract beneath my hands and his dark pupils dilate. ‘I don't want to think.'

Tonight was supposed to be romantic.

He cups my cheeks so tenderly I can't believe he's capable of anything but this. ‘What do you want?'

Our magic back.

But I don't say it because the longer I stare into his eyes, the less I have to. The proximity of our bodies, the soft light, the fact that we are completely and utterly alone for the first time – all this creates the mood I've longed for.

I turn my head a fraction and press my lips to the firm skin at the base of his thumb.

Then the other way and his other hand.

His warm breath on my lips betrays that he's closed the distance between us. My mouth dries and my courage wanes.

Kiss me. Please, kiss me
.

But I can't ask and I can't make myself move the inch that separates our mouths. I was nervous before but that was nothing compared to this. He said he liked me but he's not the person I thought.

This strange new Sebastian makes my heart beat faster.

He sighs. A sound of resignation. He's giving in.

To my unspoken demand? To the heat between us?

I close my eyes and his lips meet mine. They're warm and slightly chapped. And the kiss is too brief.

The air when he breaks contact is cold beyond what I can stand. My eyes open and he's searching my face. I try to show him with a smile that I liked it, when the truth is, I wanted a kiss, not a tease. I want to drown in the hot-ness of this boy. I want to lose myself, and a brush of lips isn't going to cut it.

This time I move to meet his mouth.

Our noses bump. I feel the smile on his lips that matches my own. It's not awkward, it's deliciously new. I tilt my head and he deepens the kiss, opening his mouth. Coaxing with every touch of lips on lips for me to do the same.

His hands tangle in my hair as his tongue plays at the entry to my mouth. Tentatively I touch it with mine. He tastes of the cola we had earlier. Sweet and yummy and Sebastian.

My hands clutch at his shoulders then grab the braces over his shirt as my knees begin to shake.

One hand around my waist drags me closer, lifting me to my toes and fitting me flush against his body. The hard muscle of him feels so foreign but so right.

I have never kissed anyone like this.

I have never been kissed so my whole body burns to be closer to the source of the heat.

By the time he lets me fall back onto my feet I'm afraid I might not be able to stand. But my legs keep me upright as he pulls away.

I want to beg him not to let me go but the words stay stuck in my throat.

His hands go in his pockets as mine pull the cape around my body. The cold I managed to escape in his arms can no longer be kept at bay.

He runs a hand through his hair and stares at the ground. ‘I should take you home.' When I say nothing he lifts his head. ‘My parents …'

‘Nice excuse.'

‘Huh?'

‘We shared this amazing kiss and you bail on me using your folks as an excuse.'

That confused 404 look is back. ‘But you didn't want to talk about it.'

‘I don't.' I march ahead to the car. My body is still thrumming from the kiss but I can't look at Sebastian.

While he kissed me I could forget everything. While I kissed him I was invincible.

We're at my house in minutes. He doesn't switch off the engine. No long goodbyes here. I sneak a glance at his face but the dashboard light reveals nothing but his features. I'm sure he was physically affected by the kiss, but did he feel the emotional connection I did?

I could ask him … if I wasn't me.

‘Night then,' I say, pushing the passenger door open.

I hesitate a heartbeat, plenty of time for him to call me back. If he wants to.

A hint of a smile flashes my way but his eyes are in shadow. ‘Night.'

I stumble inside without looking back. He doesn't pull away until the door closes behind me and I lean back against it trying to work out whether we just got together or we just broke up.

CHAPTER

14

Out on the street, Sebastian's car accelerates into the night and toward trouble from his parents. Parents who are super-strict because of something he did before they moved here.

Every instinct I have says he's one of the good guys, but as soon as I mentally rule out serious stuff like assault and robbery I have to put them back on the possibilities list. How well can you really know anyone?

I drag each foot up the stairs, unwilling to reach my bedroom and have to admit tonight is really over. But too soon I'm stepping into the one place that is mine alone.

Tonight I don't have room in my head for my usual fears of the dark. I have too many real things to worry about to waste time on the imaginary. I flop back on my bed in a dramatic heap, but it doesn't make me feel any better. The ceiling blurs before my stinging eyes, but I know crying won't solve anything.

I sit up and shrug off the stupid cape. In a few minutes I've removed the wig and the black miniskirt and am left in my black singlet. My pyjamas are somewhere under the pile of clothes scattered around my bedroom from my experimenting before the party. My laptop is under an inside-out pair of skinny black jeans that I relocate to join the blue ones in the middle of my rug.

The reflection in the mirror is no different to that of the girl who sleeps here every night. Sure, she has a little more eyeliner on, but otherwise she's the same. I touch my lips. They're no pinker, not branded to say they shared an amazing kiss with a beautiful but mysterious boy.

I look away.

I can't stop thinking about everything that happened tonight. Knowing I'm too wired to sleep, I log on as Aaron to see what he said that caused Lana to dump Joel and head out to meet him. As it loads I replay the expression on Joel's face as he watched her walk away. The shine of tears in his eyes, the hard set of his jaw.

A public dumping by the girl he loves.

It's exactly what I would have wished a few days ago, but it didn't have any of the triumph I might have imagined. The moment it happened I wasn't thinking about what he'd done to me. Only feeling sorry for his pain and worried that Sebastian was jealous.

Joel wasn't embarrassed.

That's the difference. When I confronted Joel I only cared about what the school population would think. Whether anyone was laughing at me. It hurt, but not the way Joel hurt tonight.

I read back through Lana and Aaron's messages from Friday night – some sent when she was actually watching Joel at the soccer game – and things begin to make sense.

It started with Joel not having time to shop for their costume because of his game. Then he didn't wave to her when he ran onto the field.

Crimes according to Lana. No amount of devotion is enough for her.

My mind goes back to Sebastian's secret. Could what he did have something to do with her desperate need to be everything to Joel?

As usual Chay-Aaron was supportive about her complaints and a little bit too busy to talk for long. He made a few comments about what he'd like to do with her on a Saturday night and then signed off with an invite to watch him play with his band.

Her last message:

I drum my fingers on the keyboard. Lana's reply was thirty minutes after Aaron's invite. Had Chay seen it before she logged off?

Chay knew. She must have known.

Why didn't she say anything in the car on the way to school tonight? Anyone would think Joel had stood
her
up not me. She's way more committed to getting back at Lana than I am.

I check my phone but she hasn't texted since our weird call when I was leaving with Sebastian. Have I pissed her off without realising? I think back through the last few days. I have been pretty wrapped up in my own life.

But we were in this together.

I push the computer away. I'm still awake and Mum is still not home. She must be having a better night with Colin than mine was, although I wouldn't trade kissing Sebastian for staying out later. But the secret he mentioned gives our magic moment a sour edge.

I should have let him explain.

As good as the kissing was, I should have given him a chance to tell me whatever it is that he did that was so bad. Because now I've kissed him I'm not sure I can turn off the like.

More than like.

I bury my head in the pillow but my brain won't find sleep. What is his secret?

I drag myself off the bed and have a quick shower, the whole time listening out for Mum. Ten minutes later I still have the house to myself but I'm clean and my skin is pink and warm from the hot spray. I lift a red long skirt I don't remember buying and find my fave soft pyjamas. The ones that are blue with white and yellow daisies. They remind me of everything warm and plush and springtime. In them I can almost smell a green meadow. I always thought I couldn't fail to be cheerful wearing them.

I was wrong.

I curl up again on my bed and wake my computer from its hibernation but no one is online. Most people are probably still at the school.

With my chin resting on my knees, I alternate between remembering Sebastian and my amazing kiss and imagining how the night might have played out if I'd let him tell.

Why didn't I let him tell?

Because I never actually wanted to know
.

The letter I've been ignoring for days sneaks into my mind. ‘Ignorance is bliss' must be my life motto. Even though the need to know why my father did what he did has simmered in my head for nine years, I'm still refusing the opportunity to meet and ask him in person.

And tonight I did the same thing with Sebastian.

I need to know why.

I open my email. There's no need to retrieve the letter my father wrote me from my desk. His contact details are imprinted in my memory. I've seen them often enough when I close my eyes.

I type before I can second-guess myself. It's taken days to get to this decision and I don't want to change my mind again.

No, I'm not his little girl. The man is practically a stranger.

That's not right either. His blood runs through my veins. The things about me that make Mum frown in puzzlement might come from him. Maybe he likes peanut butter and banana mash too.

I try again.

I erase my efforts again. He doesn't deserve my thanks. He ruined our lives. Because of him my mother carries a shadow in her eyes whenever she thinks no one is looking.

My throat closes up and I'm fighting tears.

This is a mistake. Emailing him will hurt Mum, and what will answers do for me anyway? It's not going to change anything. I won't be able to turn back time and have my dad watch my softball games in year seven or have him attend the assembly where I won a writing competition in year nine.

I close my laptop and roll over in the bed.

I'll sleep on it, give myself a chance to fully analyse the pros and cons of the situation.

It's the logical plan. I don't want to hurry into a decision. But an hour later Mum still isn't home and I'm more alone than ever. The man reached out to me. It's only fair I give him a chance to explain. If I don't ask him the question I'll never have peace with the past.

I tap my foot, waiting for my computer to wake up. Since I didn't shut down properly I only have about two minutes of battery left.

It's long enough.

I type with damp and slippery fingers that struggle to hit the right keys.

I press send and the power runs out.

Now I can sleep.

* * *

I'm asleep by the time Mum gets home and am in no hurry to speak to her the next morning. Despite waking with the birds I linger in my bed feigning sleep until she knocks on my door.

‘Kath?'

I sit up. ‘I'm about to shower.'

It does the trick and she walks away, clip-clopping down the hall. Moving in slow motion, I find some trackies and clean underwear and stumble to the bathroom. The shower is hot and stinging against my skin and it's a relief to wash my hair but there's only so long I can delay.

Mum is waiting for me in the kitchen.

Her smile can only be described as chipper. ‘Good night?' I ask but I can see the answer in every bouncing step.

Her smile widens. ‘Very. We had dinner at this little place and then talked for hours. He walked me to my car and then …'

I interrupt with an exaggerated wince. ‘Spare me the details.'

My head aches from my restless night of brain churning sleeplessness. I drain two glasses of water, trying to rehydrate.

Mum's watching. ‘Big night?'

‘Not in the way you're thinking. I'm sure the punch was probably spiked but I was home too early to get in on the action.'

She pours me a cup of tea. ‘What happened?'

I'm too confused to attempt to explain last night to my mother so I give her a mostly-truth. ‘Sebastian had to be home early.'

Some of her bounce deflates. ‘But some of it was good?'

My mind immediately returns to the kiss in the park. ‘Some of it was amazing.'

She seems to take that in but doesn't press for details. ‘So what's the plan for today? Want to hit one of the antiques shops up the coast?'

‘I have a heap of homework.' It's true. I was too excited at the end of last week to be good for much, and doing well is my ticket out of this town.