Authors: Patricia Puddle
“What? I was asleep. You just woke me up.”
He kneels down in front of my bed. “I’m
sorry, Elle. Honestly. I thought you were awake and you’d forgiven me because
you were hugging me tight. Next thing; your crazy cat jumped between us and
went berserk. She was scratching and hissing,
then
you
gave an almighty heave and shoved me off the bed.”
I fasten my pyjama top. “Well … well, I must
have been dreaming. Anyway, you could have phoned first.”
He rolls his eyes. “I did—I rang your cell,
and sent a text. I emailed you, too.”
“Bull-crap.”
I fold my arms. “I don’t believe
you. You only came over because you knew I was home alone, not to apologise. I
know what you're really after.”
He jumps up and sits on the end of the bed. “Aw,
come on, Elle, I'm sorry for what I did earlier, and I promise I won’t do that
again. It's Friday night. How about I order a pizza and we watch a movie?”
I scowl. “I don't want to watch a movie with
you. I'm tired and have a headache, thanks to you and your antics this
afternoon.”
He ruffles my hair. “Let me give you a neck
massage. That’ll get rid of your headache.”
“Get lost! You’re not massaging my neck. I
don’t trust you.”
“Come on, babe, think of the fun we can have
while your folks are away.”
“Fun?
You call stripping my clothes off
fun?”
“But you wanted me to.”
He grins wickedly. “I didn't force you to
come into my bedroom, and you didn't mind me kissing you.”
My jaw drops. “You ratbag—you said we were
going to watch a video, and you lied about your mum being home.”
Grabbing my hands, he pulls his hound-dog
face. “I said I’m sorry. Please forgive me?”
“No!” I push him away. “Go home.”
“Aww, Elle, don't play hard to get.”
I belt him over the head with my pillow,
then
I leap off the bed and hold the door open. “You'd
better go, Tom.”
Shaking his head, he walks into the hall,
then
he turns and eyes me up and down.
“Cute
pyjamas.”
‘Leave!”
He shoves his hands into his jeans pocket and
swaggers down the hall. “Okay, but you better lock up after me. You don't want
any weirdos getting in.”
‘What?” I roll my eyes and playfully push him
towards the front entrance. “It's a bit late for that advice. You're the
biggest weirdo I know and you're in.”
Spinning around, he grabs me by the waist and
yanks me towards him. “You’ll be safer if I stay the night.”
I laugh.
“Yeah, right.”
He gazes into my eyes. “Please, Elle, you
know how I feel about you.”
My heart skips, and as usual, I'm tempted by
his charms. But I want him to kiss me like the boy in my dream did, not rough
like before. As his lips brush mine, I close my eyes and inhale his pungent cologne,
but instead of the heavenly feeling I had in my dream, I feel uncomfortable.
Tom’s kiss is hard and demanding like earlier, and he's hurting my mouth again.
I can't breathe, so I pull away.
“Come on,” he murmurs, his hands moving under
my pyjama top. “Open your mouth a bit. You kiss like a mackerel.”
How rude. I've seriously had enough of his demeaning
insults and I stamp on his foot.
“Ouch,” he yells. “What did you do that for?”
I open the front door and shove him out, then
I slam it shut and lock it. “Goodnight, Tom,” I shout through the crack.
“Oh, Elle,” he moans. “Let me stay. I'll
sleep on the couch.”
“No,” I yell “You insulted me. Anyway, you'll
sneak around all night and I won’t get a wink of sleep.”
He bangs on the door. “But you're not safe on
your own.”
I sigh. He’s sort of cute and I don’t know if
I should break up with him or give him another chance. I'm confused. The boy in
my dream made me swoon, but all Tom does is
make
me
mad.
Mackerel indeed.
“Elle, let me in,” he hollers. “I promise not
to disturb you.”
I don't trust him and there's no way I'm
letting him stay—besides, after my dream, I don't trust myself. No point
risking temptation. I press my ear to the door and wait for him to leave, but
he doesn't go. I tiptoe into the front room and peek out the curtain. Crap, he's
sitting on a chair on the porch.
Chewing a fingernail, I try to think. Then I
have a brilliant idea. I dash down the hall to the kitchen, grab a frozen fish
from the freezer, then I run back. Giggling, I put the safety chain on the
front door and peek out. “Goodnight, Tom.”
He pushes the door, but it catches. “Elle, I’m
sorry I hurt your feelings. Take the chain off and I'll show you how to
french
kiss, you'll love it.”
“I'm not taking the chain off, but I'll kiss
you if you close your eyes. I feel self-conscious after your insult.”
“Aw, you know I didn't mean it, babe.” He
leans into the gap in the door. “Come here.”
I shake my head. “Not unless you close your
eyes.”
“Okay, if you insist.” He shuts his eyes and
puckers his lips.
Trying not to laugh, I jam the head of the
fish into his mouth. ‘Ewe, you kiss like a Blobfish,” I say. “Open wide and
I'll give you some tongue.”
He slaps the fish away.
“Friggin
hell.
That hurt.”
Laughing hysterically, I hold my belly and
try to speak. Then I wave the fish at him. ‘Give us another kiss, Blobfish.”
“That's disgusting,” he says, wiping his
mouth with his sleeve. “And what the hell's a Blobfish?”
‘A Blobfish is a hideous sea creature with no
muscles—a floating piece of slime that lives just above the bottom of the ocean.
It eats anything that just happens to come its way. Does it sound like you, Tom?”
I giggle again. “And if you do a web search, you'll see how ugly it is.”
He glares at me, his nostrils flaring like an
angry bull. Then he stomps to his car and gets in the driver's seat. Giving me
a black look, he slams the door.
I wave the fish at him.
“Night,
night, Blobfish.”
His tyres screech, then he zooms away.
Chuckling to myself, I lock the door and
march back to the kitchen. I hope that gave him something to think about. Now,
who kisses like a mackerel? After tossing the fish back in the freezer, I wash
my stinky hands and head back to bed.
I lift Matilda off my pillow and hold her on
my lap. “Why did you scratch me, Kitty? Were you trying to protect me from that
naughty Tom?”
Meowing, she lifts her chin up and stares at
me. “What?” I stroke her head and push her to the end of the bed, but as I climb
between the sheets, she meows again. I sigh. “Just go to sleep, Matilda.” For
some reason she's spooking me out tonight. And I can't even shut her out
because of the stupid swollen doors. Ignoring her, I yawn and close my eyes.
When I wake, bright sunlight is shimmering
through a gap in the curtains. I rub my eyes and glance at the clock radio.
It's 7:30 am. Smiling, I spring out of bed and head to the kitchen. It's going
to be a sunny day after all. I gobble down some muesli and milk,
then
I send text messages to my friends. Hopefully they'll
all turn up at the beach today. It's too cold to swim, but it's a great day for
a jog on the sand. I boogie to my room and dress in my blue shorts and a pink
sweater. As I slip into my sneakers, I glance at my untidy room and grin. Mum's
not here to nag me, so I don't have to clean up. Chuckling to myself, I head
out the front door and lock it.
The sweet aroma of jasmine reminds me it's
nearly springtime, and as I jog down the street towards the beach, I inhale the
fresh salty air. When I reach the promenade, I glance at my watch. It's too
early for Brooke and Ruby to be up yet. They always sleep late on Saturdays.
Plus the waves are so rough after the storm, they probably won't turn up. Maybe
there was a storm warning because the beach is deserted, except for the squawking
seagulls. With a big sigh, I walk down the steps onto the sand and start jogging
along the water edge.
Although it's cold and windy, I'm surprised
there aren’t any early morning joggers around, or people walking their dogs.
The only person here is a body surfer. Jeez. Why would anyone swim in the icy
ocean without a wetsuit? I shiver at the thought, but as I get closer I realise
he’s not moving. He’s lying on his stomach in the shallow water, and he’s
naked. My heart pounding against my ribs, I look around for a life guard, but I
can't see one. Biting my lip, I kneel on the sand to see if he's conscious.
Shoot. He's not moving. I shake his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Crap. He’s not answering me and I don’t think
he’s breathing. My hand trembling, I press my fingers to his neck to feel for a
pulse, but I can't find one. My stomach flips and I reach for my cell to call
for an ambulance. Darn it. My battery's dead. As I try to remember how to do
CPR, the sun disappears behind a huge black cloud. Great, that's all I need, a
storm. I turn the man on his side and look in his mouth. There's nothing in
there that I can see, but he's still not breathing. Jeez.
I wish somebody would come and help me.
As gently as I can, I roll him onto his back.
Oh my. He's only a boy—a beautiful naked boy with the masculine body of a man. My
face flushes with embarrassment and I glance around, but there's still no one about.
Crikey. It looks like I’ll have to try and save him myself. Leaning over him, I
tilt his head back, then inhaling
deeply,
I press my
open mouth over his and blow out two sharp breaths.
WHAM!
I'm suddenly thrown on top of him as an agonising pain shoots
from my back to my heart. I'm on fire. Oh my god! Have I been struck by
lightning? I try to scream, but I'm paralysed and can't move. With thunder
roaring above me, the pain starts to pass, but I'm lying on top of a naked boy
and I'm losing consciousness.
Chapter Four
Soft bells are ringing in the distance, waking
me from sleep. As my eyes flutter open, I squint at the glare from the sun.
Cupping my hand over my brow, I glance at my window. Did I leave the curtains
open? Shoot! Where's my roof? I'm looking up at the clear blue sky and there's
a rainbow emerging from the clouds and arching right down to the side of my ….
huh
?
Holy Moly! I'm not in my bed—I'm on a white
fluffy cloud. I bolt upright. Have I died and gone to heaven? Or am I dreaming
again? My pulse is racing in my ears, so I can't be dead. I look to my left and
my heart skips a beat. The mystery boy from my last dream is lying next to me,
but just like before, there's a haze around his face. As I move closer, his sweet
musky scent sends shivers down my spine. I want him to kiss me like he did
before, but he's ignoring me. Crap. If I wake up now, I'll never get to see who
he is.
I poke him in the ribs, and though he doesn’t
stir, a strange tingling sensation shoots up my arm and into my heart. I suddenly
feel dreamy and light-headed like I'm floating on air. Why would I dream up a
hot guy, make him invisible,
then
find he's not interested
in me? I guess it's my dream, so I can do what I like.
Holding my breath, I run my hands across the
hard muscles on his bare chest and up to his broad shoulders. Oh my. He’s so toned
and he smells delicious. His eyes are closed, but his lips are warm beneath my
touch. Unable to resist them, I lean into the mist and kiss his sweet mouth.
He groans and runs his tongue across my lips
and into my mouth. Wow! He takes my breath away. My heart skips and the wonderful
tingling fires through me again. As my tongue meets his, I swoon with delight
and breathe through my nose, but instead of his scent, I inhale the salty smell
of the sea. As I try to open my eyes to look into his, a cold rush of water
washes over my toes. Oh, don't tell me I've dreamed up a waterbed that's just
burst?
The roar of the ocean and the sound of noisy
seagulls snap me back to reality. My eyes flutter open to a dark cloudy sky and
waves lapping over my legs. Darn it! I'm awake and back on the beach. That
sucks because I wanted to see if that mystery boy looked as hot as he kissed. Shivering,
I glance over my shoulder to the incoming tide. What? Someone else's feet are underneath
mine. I jerk up onto my elbows. Holy crap! I'm lying on top of the naked guy I
was doing CPR on, and worse, he's aroused. I blush with shame. Was I kissing
him
in my dream? Mortified, I bite my
lip, hoping he's still unconscious, but as I try to sneak away, I panic and
accidently knock against his manhood and his eyes pop wide open.
Scrambling off him, I gasp and fall onto the
sand as uncontrollable shivers shoot right through me. What is wrong with me?
I'll surely die of humiliation. It must be my teenage hormones going wild, but
my, is he hot. I can't take my eyes off him. He's the most beautiful boy I've
ever seen. He has mesmerising blue eyes and a body to die for.
He bolts upright, looks down at his naked body,
then
covers himself with his hands. “What's going on?
Where am I?”