Popping The Cherry. Aurelia Rowl B.

set off towards the house without waiting for Gemma’s reply. Her face was a picture, though. She should think herself lucky my phone was dead, which meant no camera, or she’d have been a sure-fire hit on the Internet. It was only because I was still peeping at her over Jake’s shoulder that I saw it: that trace of something else, a certain tightness around her mouth and a barely-there narrowing of her eyes. She was not amused, looking as if she was ticked off at me, or maybe Jake.

      The sound of a car door slamming and running footsteps over the gravel meant she soon caught up with us, making me wonder if she didn’t want to let me and Jake out of her sight. I’d expected Jake to put me down once we got inside the hallway of the house I consider to be my second home, but instead he held onto me, not even slightly out of breath. He carried me through to the sitting room at the back of the house, formerly their playroom, then set me down on the sofa.

      Gemma immediately sat beside me and helped strip my coat off, dumping it on the floor next to her. She took hold of my hand, as Jake mumbled something about tea and blankets, then, the moment he was out of earshot, she pounced.

      ‘I’ve got just one question before he comes back.’ Uh-oh! Here it comes. ‘I know for a fact you went to a gig with Hayden tonight, so how come you ended up in Jake’s van? With him carrying you around like some sort of damsel in distress? Did Hayden do something? Did he hurt you?’

      So much for ‘one question’. I flicked a glance at her expression to try to gauge her mood, but she looked her normal ‘best friend’ self again, presumably having got over what whatever her problem with me or Jake was.

      ‘Not really—well, not like that, anyway.’ I stared down at our joined hands. ‘He spent the entire night stoned out of his mind and turned into a right creep.’

      ‘Sounds like another lucky escape, huh?’

      I froze, all except for the hairs on the back of my neck and my arms, which now stood on end. I tried to take a deep breath to calm myself down but it got stuck somewhere between my throat and my lungs, coming out in a strange grunting sound. Gemma looked panic-stricken. Her words had hit me hard, slapping away the last of my brave face, but she had no way of knowing the truth of what she was saying. She slipped off the sofa and knelt in front of me.

      ‘What is it?’ she asked, taking hold of my other hand as well, so she now held both of mine, her thumbs rubbing across the backs of my hands. ‘What did I say?’

      ‘It’s OK,’ I choked out. ‘You weren’t to know.’

      ‘Know what?’ The tone of her voice and the look in her eye pleaded with me to explain. There was a lump to rival Mount Everest in the back of my throat, but I tried my best.

      ‘Pete, the guy driving the van, was off his head and tried to kill us all. I made him stop the van so I could get out, but then …’ It was no good. I couldn’t say another word even if I’d wanted to, not with the onslaught of a coughing fit, but Gemma refused to be distracted by something as minor as me choking to death.

      ‘You got out and then …?’

      Jake timed his return perfectly. ‘And that’s when two fuckers chased her and scared the goddamn shit out of her,’ he said, his tone filled with hate and aggression.

      To hear him cursing as if he were back on the building site only made the whole ordeal even more shocking. Gemma and I exchanged matching glances, both of us stunned by the words that hung in the air. This from the guy who was always so determined to watch his language around us, constantly pulling us up on it if he heard us swearing. His knuckles had turned white around the mug he was carrying, gripping it so hard I was amazed it didn’t smash in his hand.

      ‘Oh, my God! Is that true?’ Gemma wailed as comprehension dawned, transforming her expression to one of horror.

      She burst into life as if a rocket had been lit under her backside and flung herself at me, kind of like in those bodyguard movies, when there’s a shooter somewhere in the room, turning herself into a human shield. I had to clamp down hard on my tongue to stop from yelling at her as she smacked into several of my bruised bits, effectively tackling me and pinning me to the back of the sofa, but I could do nothing about the whimper that escaped.

      Jake came to my rescue yet again. ‘Gem, could you get Lena’s phone charging and send a text to her mum, let them know she’s staying here tonight? Maybe make it sound like it’s come from Lena, though.’

      ‘Sure thing.’ Gemma clambered off me awkwardly and waited expectantly. ‘So where is it?’ she prompted.

      ‘Oh. It’s in my coat,’ I said, angling my head to where it had been dumped. ‘Left pocket, but I think it might be broken.’

      Gemma shoved her hand into the pocket and withdrew my pride and joy. I couldn’t look. My phone was like an extension of me. Even if my folks took pity on me and replaced it, I’d lose all my contacts and photos and stuff.

      ‘No, it looks fine,’ she said. ‘Open your eyes, Lena, and see for yourself.’

      I settled for opening just one, to see Gemma holding out the miraculously unscathed looking touch-screen phone. Great! Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for my purple, woollen blazer, which she still clutched in her other hand. I opened my other eye and stared, eyeing the patch of dried blood smeared over the back of it. Not so great.

      Gemma saw my smile fade and followed my gaze. ‘Oh, no, your beautiful coat.’

      Ignoring my body’s protests, I reached up to inspect my head, expecting to find a whopping great hole in it for there to be so much blood. I didn’t find one, though, just a matted clump of hair, a bump, and what felt like little more than a scratch.