Читать книгу By the Time You Read This - Lola Jaye - Страница 9

Kevin Trivia: The best thing to happen to me the year I turned seventeen? Watching Pele’s amazing opening goal against Italy. What a match!

To leave or not to leave?

You probably hate school and can’t wait to be released from the shackles of all those rules, not to mention the revolting school dinners. But please, Lowey, really think about staying on at sixth form or going to college. Get those extra grades. Remember, it’s all about having choices.

Sixth Form College represented a change of scenery, and with it a handful of perks. Top of the list: no school uniform, plus daily access to some really cool guys. Not that any were ever interested in me. It had been and would always be my best friend Carla who enticed the hungry crowds. She’d grown into something quite special too – if you liked slim waists, large breasts and a sassy Jessica Rabbit walk just to top it all off. Even Mr Tally had started to look at her funny as he weighed out a quarter bag of cola cubes. While I preferred to live in my jeans, Carla’s Daisy Duke’s (i.e. the tiniest shorts ever) seemed to be in constant competition with her bum cheeks, so it was hardly surprising when she got together with Antoine Richards, a smooth guy from the upper sixth, proceeding to spend most if not all of her spare time with him. Again, I got used to this and it failed to niggle away at me until I called round one day and Corey answered the door.

‘She’s out with some boy,’ he offered. I hadn’t seen him in ages. Almost eighteen now, he seemed to be into more grown-up things like Art College and a scooter. He’d also grown a goatee and looked really impressive. And he’d been spotted recently with some blonde bombshell from the Hankle Estate. Not that I cared about that.

‘This is the second time she’s blown me out for Antoine!’ I whined as we entered the lounge.

‘What kind of name is that?’ he asked, producing a box of cigarettes from nowhere.

‘No thanks. Don’t smoke.’

‘Neither do I, then!’ he said, flinging the box across the room.

‘She said she’d be home by six!’ I continued pointlessly.

‘I dunno why you bother with my sister.’

I wanted to say, because my dad told me to.

Corey disappeared into the kitchen.

‘Where is everyone?’ I called.

‘Mum and Dad are at the pictures. It’s just me here.’ He reappeared with two cans as I parked myself in front of the telly as always. He threw a can of beer at me, which I failed to catch.

‘Still can’t catch, Lo Bag. Bad. Very bad indeed.’ He shook his head in mock horror and I gave him the finger. ‘So, how is you?’

‘I’m all right.’

‘You still with that idiot?’

‘You mean Mickey? That was eons ago.’

‘No one since?’

I ignored him and began sipping at the beer, which tasted absolutely disgusting (although I’d never, ever tell Corey that). ‘How are things at college?’

‘I’m really enjoying my art course…’ he began, smiling, showing off those dimples. As he spoke, I hoped he’d forget to ask me anything ‘profound’. He attended Art College to study…art, I suppose, while I studied A-level English and Computer Science at the local sixth form. His friends were all arty folk, whereas my only friend was Carla. The more we chatted, the more I knew we’d hardly anything (except Carla) in common any more, and this made me a little sad.

‘Music,’ he said with a smile.

‘What about it?’

‘You still into LL Cool J?’

‘A little bit…’

‘You remember that tape I gave you?’

‘I dunno where it is now. That was ages ago.’

‘I always thought of you when I listened to track two. That was my favourite album.’

‘Can’t remember that,’ I said quickly.

‘Track two?’

‘Yeah, well, it’s probably in Mum’s store cupboard.’ I sipped away at the beer, feeling giddy as the fizz caught the edge of my tongue. I swallowed and, without warning, that feeling you get when you’re about to choke your insides out made an unwelcome presence at the back of my throat.

‘You okay?’ he asked.

‘Uh hum!’ I struggled, trying and failing desperately to clear my throat. As things advanced up the embarrassment scale with cough after cough, Corey stood up, making his way behind me as I continued to splutter madly.

‘Just let it out, okay?’ His hands slapped onto my shoulder.

As quickly as it had begun, the throat tickle subsided and I attempted to regain some dignity and composure as Corey remained behind me.

‘I’m okay now, really.’

‘I know, Lo Bag,’ he said, his hands kneading a tense shoulder. My tense shoulder. I automatically froze with the sudden intensity of this act, not wanting to move while wanting to turn around and…kiss him. All I could hear was his breathing because it felt like my breath had long since disappeared with the shock of it all. What to do? What to do? What to do, Dad?

‘Turn around…’ Corey’s voice sounded different. Hoarse. Urgent. I stood up to face him and then it just happened. ‘It’ being my lips connecting with his, followed by a beer-tinged tongue rummaging around my teeth like a penniless man digging for gold. I was wishing I’d brushed my teeth for the full three minutes that morning, and I also wished something romantic was playing in the background instead of the Top of the Pops theme tune. Looking back, it probably wouldn’t be my most enjoyable kiss, but at the grand old age of seventeen, it was certainly my first.

Words failed me afterwards. I’d just kissed my best friend’s brother, for pete’s sake!

‘D’you want another beer?’ he asked, all matter of fact.

So that night, we drank a little as we watched EastEnders on telly, and by nine p.m. hid the beer cans as Carla’s mum and dad returned from their night out.

Dad had written something in the miscellaneous section about kisses, so as soon as I fled next door, heart racing with the intensity of it all, I dug it out.

Miscellaneous: Your first real kiss

I couldn’t figure out where to put this, so I stuck it in the miscellaneous section (if I had my own way it wouldn’t even be a section, because I’m not sure I want some bloke kissing you). But if my dreams of you having kids and growing old with your family around you are ever to materialise, then a kiss is probably likely.

Sooooo…

Here goes (deep breath, deep breath).

Your first kiss.

You’ve probably just had it or are about to. All I can say is, it will feel… well, rather crap actually. The good (or bad) news is, it definitely gets better with practice. Because first time round you’ll be all teeth and lip knocks. You’ll be paranoid about your breath. Or this could all be my own experi ence, while yours, well, yours could just be magical. Like Cinderella’s with her prince.

Remember to enjoy it… but not too much!

And I had.

I smiled and leaned over to my bedside table, the picture of Dad smiling back at me. I was almost too embarrassed to face him, armed with the knowledge that I had, at last, broken my kiss virginity.

I decided not to tell Carla. Not that she’d notice any difference in the way Corey and I interacted, because we waited until she left the room to sneak in a quick kiss. Gazing at one another across the dinner table as we tucked into Sunday lunch. Once, we even held hands under the tablecloth as Carla’s mum talked lipstick colours. An exciting moment in time and one that made me believe all that fluff they sang about in songs. But then I’d go home, sit on my bed, one-eyed teddy by my side, feeling confused at why I was thinking about Corey in THAT way. I’d known him most of my life and seen him as nothing more than…well, my best mate’s annoying older brother. Everything was weird now. Nice, scary, mad, exciting. But mostly nice.

‘When did you start fancying me?’ asked Corey as we left Lanes Fish Bar, carrying his family’s dinner in two paper bags.

‘I never did!’ I protested.

‘What? Never?’

‘You’re just looking for an ego boost.’

‘So what?’

‘You’re not getting one.’

I felt a surge of delicious electricity as he grabbed my hand. ‘Go on, Lo Bag!’

I pulled my hand away playfully.

‘I’m going to tell everyone about us,’ he said, and I thought I’d burst.

‘Not today, though?’ I wasn’t quite ready for everyone to know about ‘us’. Like The Manual, this was something for me that had nothing to do with anyone else. And I wanted to hold on to that feeling for as long as I could. Before anything had a chance to go wrong.

One evening, as Carla ice skated with Antoine, Corey and I lay on the sofa staring blankly at the television screen.

‘Hello there!’ said a voice. As we looked up, Carla’s mum sprang into focus complete with a huge grin.

Corey and I jumped up simultaneously.

‘Mum!’

‘Relax, I’ve known for ages that something’s been going on,’ she said, placing her sequinned handbag onto the settee, which was still warm with the heat from our bottoms. ‘Me and your dad aren’t complete plums, you know.’

I smiled with the relief of it all, finally free to tell Carla the truth. Hoping she’d take it just as well as her mum. I was in love with her brother so this felt like the right thing to do, and Corey seemed to be in agreement as he walked me next door.

‘But let’s just wait for now. Mum won’t say anything.’

‘Why wait?’ I said with pangs of paranoia. ‘Carla will be fine about it.’

‘Just give it till the end of the week, that’s all.’

We kissed on the doorstep. The most magical of kisses and one I wouldn’t forget in a hurry, but for the wrong reasons.

…I know that you’ll really like this boy, but remember to take things SLOW. I mean really slow, like a snail in a pushchair being pushed by ANOTHER snail drinking his third pint. If he puts his hand in a place you don’t feel comfortable with, tell him to get lost and that you’ll tell your dad on him and HE IS WILLING TO HAUNT.

If he insists on taking things further too soon, he isn’t worth it. No matter how much you like this boy, NEVER do anything you’re not comfortable with. If he’s a good guy, he’ll respect you and your wishes. Remember my bit on boys, hormones and teabags? This doesn’t really go away, sweetheart, so always have that in mind. Admittedly, when it comes to you, I’m absolutely no use in these matters… So it’s probably better to talk to your mum about this stuff…

I tensed up at the mention of Mum, knowing I’d rather place toothpicks in my eyes than talk to her about Corey

…. She’ll know more about this stuff than me. Or perhaps you can talk to your best friend about it. Whoever you have, please talk. It’s a great way to see things more clearly.

That night as I struggled with homework, my mind was consumed with Corey. Things we’d do together. How he made me feel. Contrary to what Dad had said on the subject, being mates for so long had to count for something. And not having to sneak around any more would mean holding hands, being together… I wondered if I should just ask him out on a date. A proper date, to mark the very first day of going public.

Miscellaneous: Is it ever okay to ask out a boy? Yes.

I think times have changed since my day (yes, you heard right – I’m sounding like MY dad!). But, remember, there’s a good and bad way to do it and it can be a bit tricky. Just try to be subtle, and after you’ve got the first bit out of the way: i.e. ‘Would you like to go and see a film?’, let the boy choose the film. Or if it’s to a burger bar, let him choose which one. We do still like to remain man-like, you know. Nevertheless, don’t listen to anyone who says a boy never wants to be asked out by a girl. That’s complete and utter rubbish! It’s so rare for a girl to ask out a guy, so when you do, he’ll be chuffed, trust me on that. Go for it, girl – he’d be mad to turn you down anyway!

*

Armed with a sudden bout of confidence, I called round at Carla’s the next day, to be greeted by her very tearful mother clutching a tissue.

‘Is everything okay?’ I asked with a shot of alarm. My mind produced a horrible image of Carla or Corey lying dead on a slab.

‘No!’ she sniffed, followed by a loud blow of the nose. My heart rate accelerated as I entered the living room. Luckily, Corey was alive and punching the air while Carla playfully ruffled what was left of her father’s receding hair. Nothing unusual there.

‘Corey’s been accepted to some fancy art college!’ said Carla nonchalantly.

I turned to Corey. ‘Congrats!’ I wanted to jump into his arms and plant wet kisses on every inch of his face. I contained myself.

‘Cheers, Lo Bag.’

‘You must be so happy. I know this is what you’ve wanted.’

‘Yes…but…’

‘Have you told her where it is?’ sniffed Carla’s mum.

‘Don’t upset yourself, it’s for the best,’ offered her husband.

‘Where is it?’

‘Bloody France!’ said Carla.

I looked to Corey for some type of credible explanation, but all he returned was a lop-sided, almost drunken smile, perhaps lost in a world of self-congratulation.

‘France?’ I willed the carpet to open up with a Lois-sized hole and swallow me into it, but of course it didn’t. Instead I listened to Carla’s mum crying at the injustice of it all, as I fought the urge to join her.

‘That’s great! Really great. I’m really happy for you,’ I managed to mumble instead.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered a few moments later as I stood in his corridor.

‘No big deal, Corey,’ I whispered back softly, before making my way home.

In my bedroom, I easily located the cassette Corey had given me for my thirteenth birthday and placed it in my portable cassette player. I pressed play and listened to track two of LL Cool J’s album. ‘Around the Way Girl’ flooded my earlobes.

My favourite.

* * *