Kiss Read online

He kept asking h e r to send a photo to his mobile.

  W h a t kind of photo?'

  'Oh, he's j u s t trying it on. He w a n t s a quick flash of my chest.'

  'What?'

  'Don't look so shocked. It's a boy thing. That's w h a t they all want.'

  Yes, so they can show it round to all t h e i r dirty mates.'

  'Do you t h i n k he'll show Carl if I oblige?'

  'No! Miranda, you're not serious about this?'

  'It's no big deal. It's j u s t a bit of fun. It's like a mobile s t a t u s symbol. You get t h e right h a n d -

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  set, t h e right ring-tone, t h e right photo of your g i r l — '

  'Yeah, if that's how you w a n t to be thought of

  – t h e right topless girl – t h e n you're crazy'

  ' I ' m not saying I'll go topless. I could j u s t undo a few buttons, show off a bit of cleavage . ..

  Don't look like that! You're j u s t jealous because you haven't got any cleavage – and even if you had, Carl doesn't seem very interested.'

  'Why do you say t h a t ? ' I said, my h e a r t thumping.

  Well, I know you two have been lovebirds since t h e cradle, but you j u s t don't act very lovey-dovey when you're together. I haven't even seen the two of you so much as holding hands.'

  'You have no idea w h a t we do when we're alone together,' I said hotly.

  'Well, w h a t do you do? How far have you gone with him? Why won't you ever tell me?'

  'It's private. I'm not a kiss-and-tell girl like you.'

  'You don't kiss so you haven't got anything to tell,' said Miranda snippily.

  I worried about people kissing and telling all day. When I got home from school I didn't even wait to text Carl. I went round to t h e Johnsons'

  house straight away. J a k e answered the door.

  He actually smiled at me.

  'Ah! Hi, Sylvie!'

  'Don't look so excited, J a k e . Miranda's not with me,' I said, pushing p a s t him.

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  I called for Carl.

  'He's upstairs, Sylvie,' Jules said. She looked worried. 'He came home from school early. Said he was sick. I hope he hasn't got anything catching. Here, take him some fizzy water, sweetie.'

  She poured a glass and t h e n gave me a second look. 'You don't look very well either. Do you feel sick too?'

  'A bit,' I said truthfully.

  'Oh dear. You drink some water too. I hope you're not both going down with something.

  Still, at least you could k e e p each other company. Do you remember the time you both h a d chickenpox when you were little? We popped you one in each end of Carl's bed and you played together, all over pink spots,' Jules sighed. 'I wish you were still little kids. Well, you're still OK, Sylvie, you're lovely, b u t both my boys have changed so. Jake's this great noisy untidy bear stomping round the place, playing his awful music. Carl's gone to t h e other extreme, hiding in his lair, barely saying two words to anyone, looking so w h i t e a n d anguished all t h e time, like some boy m a r t y r with a wolf gnawing away at his chest. If I try to ask him w h a t t h e m a t t e r is he j u s t rolls his eyes at me a n d won't say.'

  She p u t t h e two glasses on a t r a y w i t h a plate of water biscuits and black grapes. 'There! A small snack for t h e two invalids. Try very h a r d to have girls when you get married, Sylvie. I'm sure it's a lot easier.'

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  'I don't think I'm going to get married now,' I said. I tried to say it lightly but my voice wobbled. I felt dangerously near tears. We both looked at my little-girl wall painting of my wedding in the corner of t h e kitchen.

  'You'll be a beautiful bride one day' said Jules softly.

  I smiled at her wanly a n d carried the tray upstairs.

  'Here, let me,' said J a k e , bounding out of nowhere and hoisting t h e t r a y high, like a waiter. The two glasses clinked together, water spilling.

  'Stop messing about, J a k e . Give it back,' I said.

  'I'm only trying to help.' He clicked his heels together and bowed low, spilling more.

  'For heaven's sake, do you have to mess about all t h e time?' I snapped.

  He s t r a i g h t e n e d up, looking surprisingly h u r t . I t h o u g h t he w a s being deliberately annoying, peeved because M i r a n d a w a s n ' t there.

  'Sorry,' he mumbled, and sloped off.

  I sighed and went on up t h e stairs and along t h e landing.

  'Carl?' I said quietly, outside his door. 'It's Sylvie. I've got a tray for you.'

  I wasn't sure he'd let me in, but the key clicked and the door opened a few centimetres. I slipped inside. Carl was still wearing his school uniform – the white shirt, badly cut grey 240

  trousers and purple tie t h a t took away all his style a n d individuality. His h a i r was standing up at odd angles, as if he'd been r u n n i n g his h a n d s through it. He sat down on the edge of his bed, a r m s folded, knees together, and stared into space.

  I put t h e t r a y on the floor and sat down beside him. I reached out for his h a n d and held onto it.

  He didn't squeeze my h a n d in return. He j u s t sat there, rigid.

  W a s it awful?' I whispered.

  He nodded.

  'You told Jules you were sick.'

  'I was. I threw up all over the floor of the boys'

  bogs.'

  'So you're really ill?'

  'Paul t h i n k s I am. Sick. A perve. A poof

  'Stop it!'

  'He said much worse things. He's still so angry with me. He thinks I set out to befriend him a n d t u r n him gay too.'

  'That's ridiculous.'

  'He really h a t e s me, Sylvie, it's so awful.'

  'Well, you've got to s t a r t hating him back.'

  'How can I do that?' Carl said helplessly.

  'Easy!' I said, wanting to shake him. 'He's horrible, Carl, crude and stupid and hopelessly prejudiced. He's not even t h a t bright or witty or interesting. He's j u s t a boring, cruel idiot. He's the easiest person in the world to hate.'

  'Look, you're so sweet, you're trying to be kind, b u t truly, you haven't got a clue. You can't 241

  j u s t stop loving someone a n d s t a r t hating t h e m instead. I h a t e me more t h a n I hate Paul, for being such a fool and p u t t i n g him in this situation when he j u s t wanted us to be good m a t e s . He's scared t h a t everyone will s t a r t talking about us, calling us both queer. He said he's not going to say another word to me ever.

  He said if I ever tried to so much as touch him he'd r a m my head down t h e toilet. He said I disgust him. That was when I threw up. So of course I disgust him even more now,' said Carl.

  'Imagine, throwing up right in front of him. I t h i n k some of it splashed on his shoes.'

  'Good. Serve him right. Aim at his head next time. Look, even if he was gay he so wouldn't be the right boy for you, Carl. He's nowhere near good enough. You're acting like you're under some stupid spell or something.'

  'That's what it feels like,' said Carl, smacking the heel of his h a n d against his forehead. 'I don't want to feel like this. If you only knew w h a t it was like, Sylvie.'

  'What makes you t h i n k I don't?' I said.

  I'd m e a n t to say it in my head, not out loud.

  Carl focused on me, frowning. We looked at each other. His eyes widened. Then we both looked away, ducking our heads, both of us blushing.

  He cleared his throat, ready to say something.

  'Here, have a glass of water,' I said hastily.

  I d r a n k myself, so quickly t h a t I gave myself hiccups. 'Oh God, not again,' I said.

  I m a d e much of t h e hiccups, holding my 242

  breath, gulping from the wrong side of t h e glass, all the p a r t y tricks, to divert us both from the painful e m b a r r a s s m e n t of the situation. Carl saw t h a t I didn't want to discuss it and acted as if he h a d n ' t understood. B u t when I stood up to go he whispered, 'I'm so sorry, Sylvie. If