Popping The Cherry. Aurelia Rowl B.. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Aurelia Rowl B.
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Детская проза
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781472018052
Скачать книгу
The big bad world was waiting for me out there. No time like the present I suppose.

      ‘Ready,’ I bluffed, satisfied to hear my voice sounding far more confident than I was feeling. I still didn’t know how I was going to walk out of there, as in physically, without all the mental crap on top. Especially with no shoes on. The next thing I knew, Jake had hooked his other arm behind my knees and lifted me into the air so I lay cradled in his arms. He was strong, I had to hand it to him. He’d made it look easy too.

      After some careful manoeuvring through the narrow doorway, we were back outside. I instantly slipped into red-alert mode, turning my head left and right to scan the area the best I could. Nothing. No cars parked up nearby, and the road was deserted, with only a single set of tail lights somewhere off in the distance. My brain tricked me into seeing things in the shadows that weren’t really there, turning me into a nervous wreck by the time we got to Jake’s van, parked exactly where he’d said it would be. If it hadn’t been for Jake and his steadying hold, I think I’d have turned around and run straight back to the takeaway.

      ‘Damn,’ Jake muttered, under his breath, but loud enough for me to hear and strained enough for me to tense in his arms. I think I might have whimpered too. ‘Sorry,’ he said, shooting me a sheepish look. ‘I’m just annoyed with myself. I forgot to take my keys out of my pocket to give to you to hold, so I’m going to have to put you down.’

      ‘Oh …’

      ‘Actually, scratch that, just hang onto my neck. It won’t take more than a second, OK?’

      ‘OK.’ I said, trying to get a good grip so I didn’t plummet to the ground, which looked quite a long way away from up at Jake’s chest height.

      To help me out, he leaned me up against the side of the van, the chill coming off the cold metal making me shiver, as he fished in his jacket pocket. Orange lights flashed, reflecting off the shop windows as the doors unlocked with a mechanical whirring sound, closely followed by a clunk as Jake yanked on the handle to open the passenger door as wide as it would go.

      He put his arm back around my shoulders and adjusted me so that I was in line with the seat, then gently lowered me into it. I looked over his shoulder towards the takeaway and saw the lady standing in the doorway, with my shoes in her hands, and she had been joined by the chef man, too.

      ‘Can you come back soon, let us know how you are getting on?’ she asked.

      ‘Yes, I will,’ I said, touched by the kindness of these two complete strangers, making a mental note to get them a card or something. Jake sprang back up to his full height and reached for the door. ‘Bye,’ I called out before the door completely closed. ‘And thanks again.’

      Jake dashed around to the driver’s side, collecting my shoes along the way, but it was never going to be quick enough. I was on my own and it scared me. Blood rushed through my ears as my heart rate sped up, my throat tightening with each ragged breath. Ridiculous as it sounds, panic had started to build in my chest the moment he had become cut off from me, as if he was the source of my bravery, and it didn’t matter one bit that I could still see him through the glass.

      Gemma would have come and got me if she’d been home, and she’d have done her best, but it would have been like the blind leading the blind. Plus, she’s even smaller than I, inheriting her mum’s delicate stature rather than her dad’s brawn, and now Jake’s too, I guess. He used to look a bit weedy when I first started hanging out with Gemma but he’d filled out loads in the last few years.

      To be honest, Gemma and I would probably still be stuck in the takeaway, and there’s no way I’d have felt as safe out in the open if it weren’t for Jake. A gust of wind swirled inside the van as he opened the driver’s door to get in. He turned his head to look at me but I couldn’t let him see me in the state I’d got into, so I looked away and reached for the seatbelt.

      ‘Hey, let me do that.’ His hand closed over the top of mine to stop me, then drew it back onto my lap, pausing there for a moment before letting go to grab my seatbelt.

      As he reached across me, I caught a trace of his scent, something I’d never really registered before. Crazy when you consider I’d been practically draped over him since the minute he’d shown up, so I put it down to sharing the close confines of the van. I doubt I could put into words how grateful I was that he had been the one to answer my call.

      ‘Thanks, Jake,’ I murmured as his deft fingers clipped me in. After everything he’d done for me tonight, how could I not class him as a friend? ‘And I don’t just mean for helping me with the seatbelt.’

      ‘No problem, Lena,’ he said, drawing away from me to see to his own seatbelt, yet his scent lingered around me; part body wash and part deodorant as if he’d not long showered, and part musky odour that I now knew was unmistakably Jake. ‘I’d say “any time” but I’m hoping you don’t make a habit of needing to be rescued.’

      He turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life, his hand accidentally brushing my knee as he reached for the gearstick. With one final wave to the Indian couple, he reversed onto the road and pulled away, leaving the takeaway behind as we made our way back to his place. Neither of us seemed to know what to say, so we travelled in relative silence, listening to the radio. I sighed with relief when I saw a little purple Corsa on the driveway.

      Gemma had got home OK.

      Speak of the devil, she came flying out of the front door before we’d even parked up. She wrenched the van door open the moment Jake cut the engine.

      ‘What the hell, Lena? What’s going on?’ If it was possible to sound relieved, ticked off and happy at the same time, then Gemma was a total pro. ‘I got back from Ben’s and found a cryptic note from Jake telling me he’d gone to fetch you.’

      ‘Go easy on her, Gemma,’ Jake said, unclipping both of our seatbelts. ‘Lena’s had a rough night.’

      ‘So why did she call you, not me?’

      They continued their conversation as if I weren’t there, which suited me just fine. The journey had taken a lot out of me, and, although Jake had driven really gently around the bends, I ached all over.

      ‘She didn’t. I just happened to be here when the phone rang.’ Jake got out of the van and walked around the front to my side. ‘I take it you’re OK to have a guest tonight?’

      ‘Well, duh. Always! She practically lives here half the time, anyway.’ Back under the spotlight, Gemma eyed me up as if hoping to find the answers written on my body. Maybe they were: the bruises might be showing by now. ‘Umm … Lena, do you realise you have blood in your hair?’

      ‘What? No. Eww!’ Like an moron, I reached up to pat my head without thinking and suffered for it. ‘Ow!’

      Gemma saw me wince, and watched me drop my arm limply back into my lap. ‘Can somebody please—’ she drew the word out so it sounded more like pleeeeeeaaaaaaaase ‘—tell me what the fuck is going on.’

      ‘Language, Gem—’

      ‘I will, I promise,’ I said, cutting off Jake’s reprimand while also trying to get my breathing back under control. ‘I really want to get the call to the police over with, too.’

      ‘The police?’ Gemma’s eyebrows shot up and disappeared behind her fringe. ‘C’mon, you’re killing me here.’

      ‘I know, I’m sorry. You’re sure you don’t mind me crashing with you tonight?’

      ‘Of course I don’t mind, but I hope you weren’t planning on going to sleep any time soon.’

      Jake jumped in before I could reply. ‘I’m banking on it,’ he said, earning questioning looks from both me and Gemma, but he ignored us and bent down, sliding one arm beneath my knees, and the other around my back. ‘Do you think you can you hook your arm round my neck for me again?’

      ‘Again?’ Gemma asked. ‘What do you mean “again”?’