It can’t be his.
The thought floods through me turning my blood to ice and I feel faint with fear.
The next room I try is a connecting wardrobe you can get into from either the hall or what must be Rex’s parents’ room, proving my point that the kids at Kingsway aren’t exactly poor. There’s someone in the bedroom, on the phone by the sound of it, but I feel safe as I slide my back down the far wall until I’m sitting on the floor.
Maybe I can just sit in here for a bit. No one will notice.
AARON
Gideon comes back from the kitchen carrying three plastic cups filled with something pink.
“Really? Punch? I’m never sending you for drinks again, gay boy,” Anj says.
“It was this or very vintage Martini Rosso. Take your pick, straight girl.” Gideon hands over the drinks as I watch Hannah Sheppard jog up the stairs. The contents of my cup smells like paint stripper. No way am I drinking that.
“So how come you moved schools?” Anj thinks she’s making small talk, but the reason I moved schools is far from small. I say something about needing a change of scenery and ignore the glance she exchanges with Gideon. There’s a bit of a pause.
“Not acting as your bestie’s wingman now he’s flying solo tonight?” Gideon asks.
It takes a second for me to catch up. “Rex and I aren’t best mates.”
“I was talking about God’s Gift.” Gideon nods towards the crowd of girls that have accumulated around Tyrone’s spot on the sofa.
I laugh. “I am definitely not Tyrone’s mate. Best or otherwise.”
They look surprised — Tyrone’s friendship is something I’m supposed to want.
“I pulled Tyrone once,” Anj says, wistfully, and Gideon and I stare at her. “Don’t look so shocked — I’m a good catch for a boy who likes a bit of cream in his coffee.”
“Of course you are,” Gideon says, grinning. “I just would have expected to know you pulled such a hottie. When did that happen?”
“Ages ago. The Easter you abandoned me to go to South America.” Gideon rolls his eyes and I get the impression this is an old argument. “It was before Marcy made him cool.”
“What?” I say. I thought it was the other way around.
“It’s all because of his girlfriend that Tyrone became King of Kingsway. Before then he was just some guy who was quite good at basketball.”
“Not even that good. Rex is way better.” Gideon takes up the story. “But Tyrone got taller and toned-er last term and fooled everyone into thinking he was better than he really is. Rex is happy to go along with it. Those two have been mates for ever, so little old Rex is just pleased that he’s not been left behind.”
“It’s Marcy that rules the school.” Anj nods, dark eyes wide and earnest. “Her and that coven of bitches she surrounds herself with. Don’t get on the wrong side of her, or you’ll get cut from everything. You may as well stop existing.”
They must have seen my face. Sceptical is an understatement.
“Seriously! There was a girl who left our school last year because Marcy teased her every single second until it became too much.”
I want to ask what happened, but this topic of conversation is making me uncomfortable. I don’t like speculating on why people leave schools.
“Have you seen Katie Coleman’s here?” Gideon asks Anj. “Word is that she’s after Rex.”
“Poor guy.” Anj laughs, then looks around. “Where’s Hannah, then?”
My eyes slide towards the stairs, and I notice that Tyrone has left his spot on the sofa and is walking up them.
HANNAH
The carpet in here is so deep that the door carves an arc across the pile as it opens. I wipe the tears from my face and wait to tell whoever it is that they’ll have to find somewhere else to shag.
“Hey, kitten.” Tyrone comes in, shuts the door and sits down next to me. I never noticed how creepy it is that he thinks calling me “kitten” is sexy. Kittens are about as sexy as granny pants.
“Hey.” My left leg is buzzing where his thigh touches mine and I wonder if I could lose myself in this feeling.
“You’re looking pretty gorgeous tonight.” He brushes his fingers gently up my bare leg and under my hem. I breathe in deeply, focusing on his touch. “Is this for me?”
I nod. It’s not — Tyrone didn’t exactly factor in to my thoughts when I grabbed this dress off the back of my chair. More on my mind.
I’m pregnant.
I stamp down on that thought so hard my head hurts with the effort and I concentrate on Tyrone as he twists round and leans over. His eyes are closed as he leans in and kisses me. It starts slow, but it soon gets more exciting, more promising. I remember how easy it is to turn him on and I slide under him, legs opening so our bodies fit together better in this cramped little space. I don’t even realize that my hands have worked their way under his T-shirt until I’m scratching my nails gently along his spine.
He kisses my neck and I sigh at the feel of his lips on my skin.
What am I doing?
This is such a stupid idea.
His hands run up my body straight to my breasts.
“Ow.” I wince, surprised at how bruised they feel.
“Sorry,” he murmurs then slides his face down into my cleavage. “They just look amazing.”
He nudges aside the top of my bra and that’s when I freak out.
“Get off!” I buck and twist under him, suddenly claustrophobic with this boy’s body on top of me in this closet in someone else’s house.
Tyrone sits away from me. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t…” I’m breathing fast and shallow and I feel faint. I can’t do this. I can’t have sex with Tyrone. I can’t.
“Hannah, are you all right?”
“No!” I shriek. I’m shivering. Tyrone reaches out but I shuffle away from him, only there’s not much room to move and I press my hands to my face, wishing him away.
I hear the swoosh of the door on the carpet.
AARON
Tyrone is crouching on the floor of what appears to be a wardrobe talking to a girl who’s pressed herself right into the corner, dress ridden up far enough that I can see her pants. She looks up. It’s Hannah.
“Get out!” Tyrone’s voice is squeaky with fear.
“I think it’s you that should get out.” My voice is cold and hard and the sound of it scares me even more than it does him. That voice does not come from a good place. It comes from a part of me that I’m supposed to have left behind. Before I know it, I’ve pulled Tyrone up and out of the door, his face so close to mine I can almost taste the sweat standing out on his skin.
I’m trying to reel it back in and my silence gives him a chance to speak. “I don’t know what you think you saw…”
“I think I saw you behind a door with a girl who I just heard yell ‘no’ at you.” My grip on myself is distinctly less steady than the one I’ve got on the boy in front of me.
“You what?” Puzzled then horrified. “No, it’s not like that. I wasn’t… shit, man, you think I’d do that?”
He takes my silence to mean that I do.
“Aaron! There’s no way I’d force myself on a girl. I swear. We were fooling around and it was all fine then she just went mental. I swear. We wasn’t even doing anything yet. I swear on my life, man. Swear it.”