Chapter 17: Facing the Music

“Good morning!” That voice was far too bright and cheerful and didn’t sound the least bit hungover. The stunning young woman was kneeling in my bed, having just shaken me awake.

I groaned and rolled away.

“Paul? Paul, wake up. I have to go and I didn’t want to sneak out without a goodbye kiss.”

I rolled onto my back and shielded my eyes from the sun coming in through the window with my arm.

“What?”

“A goodbye kiss.” She leaned down and kissed me full on the lips. “There, was that so bad?”

“No.”

“Good. Look, Paul, I wanted you to know, that last night was, like, the best night ever. I wanted to do that with you forever, well, not forever, but, you know, for, like, a really long time. Ever since that Villager bitch dumped you that Christmas, remember?”

“She wasn’t a bitch,” I groaned. “There were ... special circumstances.”

“Yeah, yeah, something to do with her inheritance or something, everyone knows that. Like, whatever. The point is, my friend, Rachel, told you to ask me out, but you never did. Shame really, ‘cause I was even tighter then than I am now, if you can believe that. But, like, whatever. Anyway, it was really great! Just like I imagined ... It really was. It was just—”

Her name was Melissa and she wasn’t a busty blonde. She was a very busty redhead, with straight sleek hair—even this time in the morning—all the way down her back to the crack of her arse. It had made a very useful handhold as I’d pounded into her from behind just a few hours earlier.

She’d been at Micester High at the same time as me—she was still a student there in fact, so I have no idea what she was doing in a nightclub on the edge on Westmouth on a school night. She had been in Year Eleven when her friend had asked me to ask her out, which meant she’d be in Year Thirteen now. She came up to me in the club, reintroduced herself and straight out asked if I wanted to play (as she put it). Well, come on, what do you think I said? More to the point, what do you think the voice in my head said? Yep, that’s right, she thought Melissa was just my type.

“Stop, okay,” I said, holding up my hand.

“Didn’t you enjoy it?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“There you go then.” She paused. “I don’t suppose ... No, I’ve got to go. I’ll be late for school.” She looked at her watch. “But ... I don’t know ... If we’re quick?”

“Quick?” I really didn’t do early morning conversation with a hangover. How could she be so bright after last night? She’d put away as much as me, hadn’t she?

“Yeah...” She pulled back the bed covers to find me naked and sporting that affliction that affects all men—morning wood. Her eyes widened. She leaned forward, and the next thing I knew my wood was stabbing the back of her throat.

Oh well, who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth? So to speak.

“Damn,” she said, panting. “That was good.” She’d just ridden me to who knows how many orgasms before I’d blown my wad deep inside her. Again. “I swear, it gets better every time.”

I didn’t answer. I just wanted her to get off me and go. The clock on the bedside table read eight O’clock and I had an exam starting at nine-thirty.

“I swear, last night was good, and you were smashed, this morning was better, and you’re hungover. What the hell will it be like if you’re stone-cold sober?”

“I don’t do sober,” I muttered, more to myself than her.

“Are you free tonight?”

“I don’t—”

“How about if I bring a friend? I’m sure Rachel will be up for a bit of share and share alike?” She got off the bed, picked up a pen and ripped a scrap of paper from the jotter pad on the counter on the opposite side of the room. She scribbled something on the paper, then handed it to me. It was a phone number.

“Give me a call before, like, seven or something, okay? We can, like, go out again, if you want, the three of us, or we can just stay here all night and get naked, I’d be cool with that. So would Rachel. I think.”

It took another ten minutes and more inane chatter before she finally left.

Seriously, how did I get myself into these situations?

I just about made it to the exam on time. I spent too long in the shower—that was my own fault—then found I was starving so stopped for breakfast at McDonald’s before heading up Westmouth Hill Road to the campus. Then I couldn’t find a parking spot. Of course, the good thing about almost being late was that almost everyone was already seated by the time I got there, which meant I didn’t have to deal with any awkward questions—for the duration of the exam at least.

I looked around the room as I found my allotted seat. Imogen was one row over and two rows back from me. Her eyes were wide as she watched me sit. I guess she hadn’t expected me to turn up. Hell, I hadn’t expected to turn up until I was forced back to Westmouth for the car repairs. I knew, I just knew, that she’d corner me once the exam was over. I had questions to answer and Imogen was just the type of person not to hold back when she asked them. So I had to get away from her before she had the chance.

Now, my plan was simple, finish the exam as quickly as I could and get the hell out of dodge, thereby avoiding Imogen and the awkward questions. Simple, right?

Only ... It didn’t work.

The exam contained a question that I knew I could answer well. Really well. So I did. I answered the other questions first then tackled the one I knew would get me top marks. But I guess I got caught up in it because, before I knew it, the invigilator called the ten-minute warning and I realised that not only did I need to wrap up my answer quickly and in a way that made sense, but that there was no way I could get it done and leave early.

I looked up and around the room. Specifically, I sneaked a look behind me to Imogen’s seat. It was empty. She’d obviously finished early and I knew, I just knew she’d be waiting outside for me. A further glance around the room confirmed there was only one exit and no way could I sneak out unnoticed. I knew she’d be waiting for me.

I wasn’t wrong.

“Where the hell have you been? Huh? Where? We’ve all been worried sick!” She was standing opposite the entrance to the exam room, her bag slung over her shoulder and her arms folded under her chest.

I winced. Stood still. Then started to walk away.

“Oh, no you don’t, Paul Robertson!” Why do girls always use your full name when they’re mad with you? “You are not running away again. You get back here and talk to me!”

I kept walking.

“Paul!”

I didn’t look behind but I knew she was following because her voice didn’t fade away. She kept calling after me. And kept getting louder. Then I felt her tugging on my arm. I resisted turning around for as long as I could, but Imogen could be damn persistent when she wanted.

“Paul, will you just—”

“What?” I said, aggressively, as I rounded on her.

“What? What!” She threw her hands up. “He disappears without a word, taking his car for god’s sake when he’s clearly over the limit, doesn’t call or text for nearly a day and then only a cursory message to shut us up, then he turns up at the exam like nothing’s happened and all he can say is what? Well, that’s rich!”

“Just ... Just leave it, okay, Gen.”

“No, Paul. I will not leave it. I was worried about you. We all were. And I want to know where you’ve been.”

“I needed to get away, all right? It doesn’t matter where.”

“It does to me.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s none of your damn business!” I could feel my anger rising. Couldn’t she sense that? Didn’t she realise the sensible thing to do, the safest thing to do, was to leave me alone right now?

“Paul, I’m your friend. And you’re my friend. That makes it my business. If something’s wrong, then I want to help.”

“Well, you can’t! No one can.”

Her voice softened, draining some of my anger with it. “No, not if you don’t let them, they can’t.” She reached her hand up to cup my face, brushing my cheek with her thumb. “Just talk to me, Paul. Talk to us. Me and Emily and Mark. We want to help. All of us. But have to let us.”

I closed my eyes and held her hand against my face for a moment, before pulling it away and opening my eyes again. I tried to release her hand, to let it fall back to her side, but she held on to me and wouldn’t let go. I looked into her eyes and tried to speak. But I couldn’t. I didn’t have the words. So, I looked away and took a deep breath to calm myself.

“Paul?”

“I’m not ready. Not yet.”

“And you never will be if you wait. Why don’t we go somewhere, just the two of us? The Union?”

I shook my head.

“Where then?”

“I’ve...” Should I tell her where I was staying? Take her back there even? Would she tell the others? Bring them around too?

“You’ve what?”

“How about somewhere in town? What about The Inn on the Pier?”

“Okay. I just need to go back to my room and dump this. Come with?”

I smiled. “Nice try. But no. Either come with me now or not at all. I’m not letting you go back and round up the cavalry.”

Now she smiled. “Perish the thought!”

“Yeah, right.”

“Okay, let’s go then. Have you got your car? It’s not in a ditch somewhere?”

“It nearly was,” I mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

She gave me a look that was, frankly, scary.

I’d had to leave the car in the car park furthest away from the exam room so it took us a while to walk back to it. Once or twice, Imogen tried to get me to talk, but I shrugged off her efforts, telling her to wait until we got to the pub, and she gave up. But when we got to the car, she took one look and her eyes got wide and her mouth fell open.

“What the hell happened? Were you in an accident? Were you hurt?”

I winced again. “I met a lorry coming too fast the other way along a country lane it had no business being on.”

“The lorry was going too fast, or you were?”

I winced again, which was answer enough.

“Damn it, Paul. You could have been—”

“Don’t say it. I know, all right. I know. But he shouldn’t have been on that road. It was too damn narrow.”

She shook her head. “Such a shame. It’s such a nice car.”

I shrugged. “It’s getting repaired tomorrow. I’m promised it’ll be good as new.”

“They always say that, and it never is.”