Читать книгу Mine - S.A Partridge - Страница 6

Lorenda enters the lounge to check if Craig and I are doing our homework. We’re just pretending until she leaves for the shops – we’re both rubbish at schoolwork. He’s here for one thing, and it’s not Macbeth.

I lick my finger and purposefully turn the page of my setwork book.

Lorenda hovers at the window and wipes her hands on her skirt. “Can I get you kids some more cooldrink?” she asks hopefully.

“No thanks, Lorenda,” I say, without looking up.

She flinches at my use of her first name, but her smile doesn’t waver. “And your friend?” she says, her tone still awkwardly formal.

I suppress a frown. Craig’s not my friend.

“He doesn’t want anything either.” I roll my eyes and my voice is like ice. That does the trick. Her smile disappears.

“Alright, Kayla. Don’t be so onbeskof,” she says, sliding back into her normal accent. She shoots me an injured look before leaving the room.

Craig shakes his head and his dark fringe flops in his eyes. “If I spoke to my mother like that, I’d get a hiding.”

“Lucky I’m not you then.”

He gives me a hard look, as if he’s asking himself why he’s taking attitude from the weird girl in class.

Duh. Because he won’t get laid if he doesn’t.

I know I shouldn’t give in to him like this, but what other reason does he have to stick around? Guys can be such douchbags.

“Look, she works from home. Do you want her gone or not? Or would you rather have a fat chat with my mother for half an hour?”

“Okay, okay. I get it.”

Lorenda eventually leaves for the shops, just like she does every other afternoon so she can chat to the ladies at Nino’s. She likes to get out sometimes as her bookkeeping work has her cooped up all day. I feel bad for being rude to her, but things haven’t been great between us lately. It’s easier to fight than to talk about why I’m so unhappy. Like she’d even understand anyway.

Craig and I head to my room.

As soon as the door’s closed he shoves me against the wall and presses his lips against mine. I like the way Craig kisses me. The last guy who came over, Greg, didn’t bother to kiss me at all.

Craig pulls off my shirt and starts pawing at me with his hands. Goosebumps flare up my arms. The teddy bear on my bedside table watches us out of his remaining button eye.

“This is so wrong. You’re like my sister,” he says as he kisses me.

I push him away roughly. “Don’t say that.” He doesn’t realise how hurtful the things he says are. If Craig was anything like a brother, he’d actually care about me.

He smirks. “Aw, come on. You like it.”

“Don’t be gross, Craig.”

I don’t like it. What I do like is his crooked smile, the way his blue eyes linger on mine, as if underneath his bad boy act he really does like me. That this isn’t just pretend.

We move to the bed and I climb on top of him.

WHEN I GO to the mirror to check if my mascara is smudged like a panda, I find myself looking at someone else. My cheeks are rosy and my hair is thick and wild, with the dyed blue ends shimmering in the light that streams in through the window. Lorenda keeps telling me how pretty I am, but she’s just being a mom. I can’t see it, although my stomach is flat and my boobs aren’t that small. If he keeps wanting to hook up, surely Craig must think I’m a little bit pretty?

When I turn around, he has my diary propped open on his knees. The crow-feather bookmark dangles from the spine. Time freezes.

“Who’s Greg? Your boyfriend? Am I in here?” he asks, grinning.

I fly forward, my heart in my throat. “Get out,” I say, snatching the book away from him.

“What? Why leave it out in the open if you don’t want anyone to read it?”

“It wasn’t left out. It was underneath a pile of Justice League Dark comics.”

Craig glowers at me and grabs his shirt from the floor. “Whatever. Crazy cow.” He slams the door behind him.

So much for being like a sister.

I slump back to the bed and iron out the bent page with my hand. He can’t read my diary. No one can.

If he knew the truth … I write about him a lot. Other than my friends Rebecca and Jasmine, he’s the only person at school who is ever nice to me or who bothers to talk to me. I overheard Sam bragging about hooking up with Craig at a party last weekend, and he apparently showed up at her house with flowers the next day. He didn’t seem to mind everyone knowing about the two of them.

He’s never bought me flowers.

I sit down and put my hands over my face. I have a flute recital I need to practise for, but I can’t bring myself to start. Music is my passion, yet I keep getting distracted by my feelings. Instead, I reach for a pen and start writing. I record every second of Craig’s visit, every sentence spoken, every action. And a list, which helps me make sense of things. Seeing it in black and white is a good reminder to myself when my heart starts slipping in his direction.

Reasons why Craig Cupido will never date me:

I wear too much make-up.

I’m not special.

I’m not pretty enough.

I’m crazy.

I’m uncool, boring and weird.

I’m unlovable.

The dating game is a huge lie. Whenever I fall for a guy, I get ignored. When guys do pay me any attention, it’s because they want to hook up. I say yes because I hope it’ll lead to something more. But it never does. Not with me anyway. You have to be up for anything, but not have any expectations.

Is love always like this? Lorenda says I’m miserable all the time.

The truth is, I have nothing to smile about.

They think I’m ungrateful. Is that the secret? If you act grateful and happy all the time, then people start to like you?

It can’t be that simple. Seems like just another trick.

But I suspect it’s just me with all the bad luck.