Chapter 7: Warned Off

Vicky wouldn’t let me have the car for two nights running, so I walked to Kelly’s house early on Saturday evening, and we took her mum’s car instead. We ate first before heading to the cinema. Micester didn’t actually have a cinema, but the multiplex on the edge of Westmouth was only a ten-minute drive away at the other end of the dual carriageway between the towns. Fortunately, I didn’t have to watch the same film two nights in a row.

Afterwards, we drove back to Micester, parked at The Rec, and took a walk around the lake.

“How did it go last night?” Kelly asked.

“It was good. Lauren and Kevin seem made for each other.”

Kelly laughed. “Yeah, she’s had a crush on him for ages.”

“He’s been crushing on her for ages, too, but never had the guts to ask her out.”

“What about you and Lisa? I know the two of you were only there because of her mum but...”

I shrugged. “It was fine. We left them in the car for a while and went for a walk. We talked and stuff. It was nice.”

“And stuff?” She was grinning.

“You’ve already spoken to her, haven’t you?”

She arched an eyebrow, and her eyes twinkled in answer.

I smiled. “So, we kissed. Big deal. It was a date, wasn’t it?”

“You know she’s had a crush on you for a while, don’t you? That’s why she felt she had to speak to me on Friday. I can’t believe she thought she had to ask my permission.”

“No, I didn’t know that.”

We came to the same bench I’d shared with Lisa the night before and sat down.

“She says you’re going out again next weekend.”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

“She’s a nice girl.”

“But?”

“But...”

“No spark?”

I nodded. “Not like with...”

She looked up at me. “I know. I’m sorry. But...”

“Yeah.”

We fell silent and stared out over the lake.

“Don’t hurt her,” Kelly whispered. “She likes you, but she’s not like Lauren. She’s...” She didn’t need to finish the sentence.

“I know. And I will try not to. Hurt her, I mean. But...” I offered my ex-girlfriend a half-smile.

“I know.”

She leaned into me as we watched the moon’s reflection dance with the ripples on the lake’s surface stirred by the wind. She smelled wonderful and felt delightful pressed up against me.

I was starting to think that perhaps coming out with her wasn’t such a good idea after all. My feelings for her were still there. I’d buried them deep over the past year, but they were definitely still there. We’d gone out for about nine months the first time around before things ended, and they’d been the best nine months of my life. People described us as a volatile couple because it seemed we were fighting half the time and loved up the rest.

People stayed out of our way when we fought.

But the fighting never lasted long, and the making up afterwards was always fantastic. We’d given each other our virginities and explored what we could do to each other and with each other to make us feel good. There was a connection between us that would never die. We’d been right to split up when we did, but I would never forget what we’d shared.

I felt her hand on my chest and looked down to see her eyes wide and pupils dilated. She didn’t even need to ask. Our lips met, and we fell straight back into the old routine. There was no need to explore or work out what the other needed. We both knew how much pressure to apply and which way the other was going to move. We were as synchronised as champion ballroom dancers, except we had twinkle-tongues rather than twinkle-toes.

She pulled my hand to her chest, and as I squeezed gently, I could feel the rise and fall of her laboured breathing. She moaned quietly and pulled away, her face flushed with desire.

“Damn.”

“I know.”

“Why the fuck did I ever dump you?”

“Because you realised what I’d already known. That we’re headed in different directions.”

“You want out of here, don’t you? Out of Micester. For good.”

I nodded. “Too many bad memories.”

“Yeah.”

“You knew it had to end eventually, so you got out before we were in too deep and would have been hurt too badly.”

She shook her head. “It didn’t work. It still hurt.”

“Tell me about it.”

She smiled. “It took me ages to get over you.”

“I don’t think I’m quite over you yet.”

“Yes, you are, Paul. You’re doing fine. And I’m happy you’re taking Lisa out again. It’ll do you good.”

“Perhaps.”

“It will. She’s a nice girl.”

We kissed again, but it felt slightly different. It was almost as if we were giving each other the last goodbye that we hadn’t had a year ago. While I caressed her boob, she fumbled to open my fly, dug her hand inside and stroked slowly. It had been a year since any hand other than mine had touched me like that—and it was that same person who was touching me now.

She broke the kiss and whispered, “Did you come appropriately equipped?”

I nodded. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Is Vicky working late tonight?”

“She’ll be back about two.”

“Good.” She kissed me once more, then said, “Take me home. One last time.”

“For old time’s sake?”

She nodded. “For old time’s sake.”

I was in a good mood as I walked to school on Monday morning. My MP3 player served up a mix of tunes that matched my mood, and I had it turned up loud. I didn’t hear the person calling to me before I went through the school doors. At a tap on my arm, I turned around.

“Gav?” I pulled my earphones out. “What’s up?” Gavin Davies was one of only two members of our class who played for The Quilters. Well, I say played, he’d gotten on the pitch three times so far this season for a total of about thirty minutes. Still, he was ‘one for the future’ according to his profile on the club’s website.

“What’s up. Look, listen, what’s the deal with you and Clarissa Liddington?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean? What’s the deal with you two? You two getting it on or what?”

“No. Course not. We’re just friends.”