After Eden (12 page)

“You’re very tense.”

“I can’t help it.”

Ryan pulled the duvet on top of me so that I was covered from my neck to my toes. Then he resumed rubbing my forehead gently.

“You’ll get cold,” I said.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting I get under the covers with you?”

I laughed, embarrassed, and secretly hoped he would.

Then the door opened. I sat up with a start. It was Cassie, a look of complete horror on her face. Within seconds the horror had been replaced by a condescending smile.

“Haven’t you heard of knocking?” Ryan asked.

“I’ve never had to before,” she said, arching her eyebrows, her eyes running over the two of us.

From where she stood, it would be impossible for her to tell whether or not I was dressed beneath the duvet.

“Eden and I are in the middle of something,” Ryan said.

“So I see.” She stayed there, staring at us, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

“What do you want?”

“Dad needs your help with something. So, when you finish whatever it is you’re in the middle of, perhaps you would come downstairs and lend him a hand.”

“Tell him I’ll be down in a couple of minutes.”

“Really? Just a couple? You are quick.” She let the door slam shut behind her.

“Um, that was awkward,” I said.

He laughed. “It could have been worse. We could have been naked.”

“Is Cassie really your sister?”

“No. We’re not related. Just part of the same mission.”

I swallowed. “Have you and Cassie ever …”

“No!” Ryan responded before I had the chance to finish the question. “She’s light years from the type of girl I like.”

“So what sort of girls do you like?” I asked.

“Are you flirting with me?” He grinned.

“No, why would I do that?” I asked, embarrassed. “Please! You’re young enough to be my great-grandson.”

“Look at you!” said Mrs. Penrose, opening the front door. She looked me up and down. “Where’s the party?”

Cringing, I realized maybe I had overdone it a bit. I usually just threw on jeans and a T-shirt when I went to Connor’s house. Today I was in the shortest skirt I owned and knee-length boots. I had leave-in conditioner and shine serum on my hair, and had sprayed myself from head to toe with perfume. I was wearing practically every item of jewelry I owned. Ryan was meeting us later and I was all too aware that the last couple of times I’d seen him I’d either been windswept or drenched. I wanted him to see that I could scrub up well.

“Come in,” said Mrs. Penrose. “He’s upstairs. There’s a plate of cheese scones up there. You’d better hurry though if you don’t want him to scoff the lot.”

I ran up the stairs.

“Knock knock,” I said, pushing the door open.

Connor was sprawled across his bed, a skywatching magazine opened at a page about telescopes. His eyes widened as I walked in.

“Whoa.”

He ran his eyes over my outfit, lingering just a fraction too long at my hemline. For a horrible moment I wondered if Ryan might be right about Connor’s feelings for me.

“You look amazing,” he said, his eyes moving back up my body to meet mine.

“My jeans are all in the wash,” I lied.

“You should wash your jeans more often.”

Ryan was
definitely
right. Connor wasn’t looking at me the way you look at a friend. A band tightened around my chest and I felt sick. “Connor,” I began.

“Don’t panic,” he interrupted, curling his top lip into a sneer. “I know it’s not for my benefit. I assume Westland is meeting us at the arcade later?”

“I’ve no idea,” I lied again.

I sat down on the floor and regretted wearing my short skirt, which made it almost impossible to sit with any dignity.

“So, I was thinking—” said Connor.

“Stop the press!”

“I don’t suppose you’ve reconsidered going to the ball?” he asked, shutting his magazine.

Actually, I had. Now that I knew about Ryan’s mission, I realized he would have to go to the ball. And as I was the only person who knew about his mission, surely I was the obvious choice for his date? I didn’t want to open up that can of worms with Connor though.

I stood up again, pulled at the hem of my skirt, and took a cheese scone from the plate on his desk. “I’m not going to the ball and I don’t want to discuss it anymore.”

“You’ll regret it if you don’t go.”

“So I’ll regret it,” I said, with a shrug. “But don’t let that stop you—you should definitely go. You should take Megan.”

“Nah,” he said. “I’d go if you were going. But if you’re not going, I won’t bother.”

“You have to go,” I said. “It’s a rite of passage.”

Connor laughed.

“So, is it just me and you today?”

He nodded. “Megan said she’ll catch up with us later, at the arcade.”

“What do you want to do?” I asked, biting into the warm, crumbly scone.

“What’s on the menu?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

I made a mental note to never again dress up when going to his house.

I shrugged. “French, since the exam is tomorrow.”

“French first,” he said. “Then Scrabble.”

Connor and I spent an hour and a half testing each other on vocab and trying out our French conversation before ditching review for a game of Scrabble.

“What are you going to do for your birthday?” I asked, as I grabbed seven tiles from the bag.

Connor was turning sixteen that weekend.

“Nothing.”

I stopped staring at my letters. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s your sixteenth. You have to do something.”

Connor snorted. “I don’t want a party if that’s what you mean. I hate parties.”

“You don’t have to have a party, but you have to do something.”

Connor laid down all of his tiles. “Excited.”

“Oh, the irony,” I groaned. “You just scored a huge amount and you’re about the least excitable person I know.”

“Remind me what you did for your sixteenth.”

I sighed. “Not my fault. Miranda wouldn’t let me have a party. But you have to admit Amy’s beach party was fun.”

“Remind me what you did for your sixteenth,” he repeated.

“Me, you, Megan, and Matt at the pizza parlour. Probably the lamest sixteenth-birthday party in the history of the universe. But you have a choice.”

“I choose understated.”

I took my turn on the board. “Here’s the deal,” I explained. “It’s not just about you. Your friends will feel uncomfortable if they can’t do something to acknowledge your birthday. You have to do something for their sake if not your own.”

“Eden. I hate parties.”

“Why?”

He rolled his eyes and picked some more letters from the bag. “Expectations always exceed outcomes. I don’t want to celebrate my birthday by being disappointed.”

“Maybe you could try not having any expectations.”

“Maybe
you
could try that. Like don’t expect Connor to have a party on his birthday.” He took his turn on the board. “Anyway, you’re just looking for an opportunity to hook up with Westland.”

“Two days ago you apologized for being out of order about Ryan. Don’t start again.”

He looked at me. “You really like him, don’t you?”

“Yes, I like him.” I moved my tiles around, searching for inspiration. “Please let’s do something for your birthday. Don’t be stubborn. It doesn’t have to be a party.”

Connor grabbed the bag of tiles. “I’d quite like to go to Plymouth. I s’pose you guys could come along.”

“That would be perfect,” I said. “Amy and Megan have been talking about going to Plymouth to buy dresses for the ball. We could spend the day there and then maybe all have dinner somewhere. You choose a restaurant and I’ll make reservations for us.”

A smile appeared briefly on Connor’s face. “Fine. Plymouth on Saturday.” He sighed. “You can invite Westland if you like.”

I let Connor beat me. It was part of the plan I’d made with Ryan. Then we were to head to the arcade, where we would run into Ryan, who would let Connor beat him at pool. One thing I knew about Connor was that winning at something never failed to put him in a good mood.

Connor yawned and packed away the game. “What time are we meeting the others?”

“Half past two.”

He checked the clock on the wall above his desk. It was almost two o’clock.

“I think I’ve had enough studying for today,” he said. “Shall we head down there and have a warm-up game of pool?”

“I’m terrible at pool.”

“I know,” he smiled. “And Matt always kicks my ass. So let me play you for a couple of games first to boost my ego.”

“When you put it like that, how can I refuse?” I said, with a smile.

Everything was going according to plan.

The sky was overcast and the wind brutally cold. Definitely not a beach day. There were a few determined people wrapped up in thick sweaters on the harbor beach, but most of the Easter break tourists were ambling along the seafront road, window-shopping, eating fish and chips and looking slightly bewildered by the sudden change in climate. The arcade was bustling. At the front of the arcade were life-size models of people who sprayed water at you or moved if you hit the target with your rifle. Farther back were pinball machines and video games. I followed Connor through the throngs of teenagers hanging around the front of the arcade, toward the room at the back with the pool tables and the bowling alley. It was darker back there, and sweatier. Smoking had been banned a few years earlier, but the lingering smell of tobacco and spilled beer was ingrained in the carpet.

I saw Matt first. He was lining up a shot on one of the pool tables at the rear of the room. Then I noticed Ryan. He was chalking the end of his cue and watching Matt carefully. He didn’t see me come in.

Connor groaned. “Your boyfriend’s here.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“But you wish he was.”

“No I don’t.”

Connor gave me a look that suggested he didn’t believe a word I’d said.

“Whatever,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You have to hand it to him. He’s a real babe magnet.”

That was when I noticed Chloe Mason and her friend Melissa. Both of them were holding pool cues and giggling. Chloe was wearing a short, tight dress that clung to her curves, barely covering her underwear. I watched as she approached Ryan from behind and slipped her arms around his waist. She leaned forward and whispered something in his ear. Over to the side, I saw Melissa, swigging from a blueberry Juiska. Ryan turned to face Chloe and laughed at something that she said. She gave him some space as he leaned over the table to line up a shot.

“I don’t think this is going to be my scene,” I whispered to Connor.

“Is that because of Ryan and Chloe?”

The way he said it made it sound like Ryan and Chloe were an item. I wondered if he’d known she would be here.

“I don’t like Chloe,” I said.

“You just said you don’t want to go out with Ryan,” said Connor, his voice tinged with petulance, “so why does it bother you that Chloe wants him?”

“I’m not in the slightest bit bothered that Chloe wants to be with Ryan,” I said, aiming for a neutral tone. “I just don’t like Chloe Mason or her bitchy friend.”

“You’re jealous!” said Connor.

Bruised would have been a much more accurate way to describe my feelings. Disappointed. Hurt. I thought that Ryan liked me. I was certain that there was something going on between us, that something was just about to happen. And I wanted it to happen, because, despite myself, I was starting to like him too. But here he was, not expecting to see me for another half an hour, playing pool with Chloe Mason and her friend. Laughing, while Chloe Mason slid her manipulative arms around his waist.

“I’m not jealous. I just don’t feel like hanging out here this afternoon. I’m going to go home and do some more review.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow in the exam,” I said, trying to ignore Chloe’s shriek of laughter.

She was responding to something Ryan had said in her usual exaggerated way. She moved close to him and whispered something in his ear. He laughed and blushed.

I walked out of the arcade and into the heartless wind, while my hopes and dreams turned to ash.

It hit me on the bus ride back home to Penpol Cove.

I was sitting at the back, my head resting against the grimy window. Outside, the gentle undulations of Perran golf course rolled by. The golf course where Ryan had shown me the stars the night of Amy’s party. The night when he had laid on the ground so close to me I could smell his skin and feel his breath.

It was all about Connor. Ryan was here as part of a mission and everything he did and everything he said was part of
that mission. Including me. He had joined our school because it was Connor’s school. He had joined astronomy club because Connor went to astronomy club. He was friends with me because Connor was friends with me.

It hit me that every flirtation—every smile or accidental touch—was a calculated move on his part. And that when his guard was down—during the brief interludes in his mission—he chose to hang out at the arcade with Matt and flirt with Chloe Mason and her friends.

It made sense. Every boy at Perran School wanted to flirt with Chloe Mason and her friends. It was only natural that Ryan would too.

I felt like an idiot.

Ryan phoned me just as the bus left the bypass for the lane that ran into Penpol Cove.

“What happened to you?” he asked. “We were supposed to meet at the arcade. You said you would help me.”

“You seemed to be doing a good job on your own.”

Which was true. Connor had cheered up immensely when he saw Ryan flirting with Chloe.

“I let him beat me at pool like you suggested,” Ryan said. “I think it’s working. He seems friendly this afternoon.”

“That’s terrific.”

“Is something wrong? Did something happen at Connor’s house?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just worried about my exam tomorrow.”

“Do you want to meet up with me later on? I could test you.”

He sounded concerned. Friendly. Which was right. He was my friend. Nothing more.

“No. I just want some time alone to study.”