His & Hers(54)

It was true. Helen was always exceptionally clever, but she was a liar too.

We handed in our essays to Mr. Richardson at the end of our English class. He was a bespectacled spindle of a man, short on hair and patience. The whole school knew that he had aspirations of becoming a writer of literature one day, rather than a teacher of it. He was known for collecting first editions of books, dandruff, and teenage enemies. All the girls hated him, and often flicked ink from their fountain pens onto the back of his shirt when he wrote on the blackboard. The way he looked at Rachel when she gave him her essay made me feel strange. It was like seeing an elderly lame dog drooling over a leg of lamb in a butcher’s window.

The bell rang for lunch, but while everyone else headed for the dining room, Rachel dragged me in the other direction.

“Come on, I’ve got you a little present, but you have to open it in private.”

She took me by the hand, her fingers entwining themselves with my own. It was something lots of girls did at school, but when Rachel held mine it always felt special, as though I had been chosen.

She led me to the restrooms where we walked right into Catherine Kelly. Her long white-blond hair was a turbulent mess of tangled knots. Her skin was even paler than usual, with a cluster of angry-looking red pimples on her chin. Her patchy eyebrows were almost completely bald—she was literally pulling out tiny pieces of herself and throwing them away. I could see why someone like Rachel wouldn’t like her very much, they were complete opposites.

“Stand by the door, skank, and make sure nobody else comes in here. If you don’t, I’ll do something far worse than making you drink piss out of a Coke can.”

It was the one side of Rachel’s character I disliked—the way she picked on Catherine—but I had reached the conclusion that there must be a very good reason for it, even if I didn’t know what that was.

Rachel dragged me into a cubicle and closed the door.

“Take your shirt off,” she said.

“What?”

I was fully aware that Catherine could hear every word.

“Don’t worry, Dumbo and her big ears won’t listen if I tell her not to,” Rachel replied. “Take it off.”

“Why?”

“Because I told you to.”

We had fooled around in our bedrooms and in the woods by then, but it was always dark. Although I had seen Rachel naked more times than I could remember, I still felt shy about her seeing my body. When I didn’t move or answer, she smiled and started to undo the buttons of my shirt for me. I let her, just like I’d been letting her do all the things she had wanted to. Even when they hurt.

As soon as my shirt was off, she slipped her hands behind my back and unclasped my bra. I tried to cover my breasts, but she pushed my fingers away, before reaching into her bag and producing a black lacy bra for me to wear instead. I had never worn anything like it—my mother still bought all my underwear, and it was inevitably white, cotton, and purchased in Marks & Spencer—this was something a woman would wear.

“It’s a Wonderbra! I never wear anything else now; you’re going to love it,” said Rachel, putting it on me like a child dressing their favorite doll.

To my horror, she took a picture on her disposable camera of my breasts in their new outfit, then opened the door and pushed me out of the cubicle. Catherine Kelly just stared at the floor, so I peered at my reflection in the mirror. It was like looking at someone else.

“Look how much bigger they are now!” Rachel said, then frowned at my face.

“What?” I asked.

“Your lips are all chapped. That’s no good.”

She took a tiny tin of strawberry-flavored lip balm out of her bag, and slowly applied some to my lips with her fingertip.

“Does that feel better?” she asked, and I nodded. “Let me see,” she said, and kissed me.

She had her back to Catherine, but I didn’t. And I was more than a little disturbed by the way the girl stared at us the entire time Rachel’s lips were on mine. I stood as still as a statue while she pushed her tongue inside my mouth, fully aware that someone was watching.

“Don’t worry about her,” said Rachel, glancing over her shoulder. “She won’t tell anyone, will you, skank?”

Catherine shook her head, and when Rachel kissed me again, I closed my eyes and kissed her back.





Him



Wednesday 08:45



“You need to come back,” I say, as soon as I find Anna in the woods.

It wasn’t hard. There is a place right at the basin of the valley, not far from the school, where all the naughty girls used to sneak off to after lessons, and sometimes during them. It was used for smoking, drinking, and other things. Each year, the new class of “cool” kids thought of it as their own secret outdoor den, but its existence was common knowledge—even boys like me knew—and its whereabouts were passed down from one teenage generation to the next. The small clearing is defined by three large fallen tree trunks, dragged together to form a triangular seating area. There is evidence of a recent fire in the middle, surrounded by stones.

Anna looks at me as though she has seen a ghost.

“How did you know where I was?” she asks.

“I remember you telling me about this place.”

“Did I?”