Undone(62)

I stand there for I don’t know how long. Thinking about him. Missing him. Wanting him to be alive more than anything in the whole world. Wishing that the words in front of me were lies. That the dates would magically change and Kai would have died at the grand old age of ninety-six after the happiest life anyone could ever imagine – jam-packed with adventure and laughter and love.

I turn and walk away. No big melodramatic scene.





chapter thirty-eight


Lucas opens the door and ushers me into his lair. He doesn’t mention the fact that I’m late. Perhaps he didn’t even notice. Maybe he wasn’t pacing around looking nervously at his watch at all. Dammit.

The house is nice. I half expected it to be like a show home, with cushions you’re not supposed to sit on and the dining table all set up for a fancy dinner. It’s nothing like that though. It’s warm and cosy with lots of knick-knacks everywhere. Apparently Lucas’s mum has a ferocious car-boot sale habit.

There are photos everywhere. A few pictures of Lucas’s sisters, who look like goddesses. Loads of Lucas way back before he realized how good-looking he was. My favourite is one of him wearing nothing but a pair of navy-blue pants, standing in the middle of a sandpit, gap-toothed and grinning at the person behind the camera.

I pick up the photo to get a better look. How could the boy in this photo have morphed into the Big I Am, Lucas Mahoney?

He grabs the photo from me and holds it behind his back. ‘Jem, if you want to see me in my pants, all you have to do is ask.’ His eyes are locked on mine and he’s smiling. For once that smile doesn’t look like a smirk.

I make a grab for the picture frame, but he holds it over his head. ‘As long as you’re not wearing navy Y-fronts …’ I hook a finger onto his belt and pull him closer. He chucks the photo on the sofa, where it lands face down. Little-boy Lucas is forgotten and the present-day version is kissing me.

I have to be honest. I sort of like kissing Lucas. Scratch that – I really like kissing Lucas. It took a bit of getting used to at first, and sometimes it still freaks me out a bit, but mostly it seems like a normal thing for me to be doing. But I think that’s because I just like kissing. When I close my eyes and let myself sink into the moment, it’s like slipping into a hot bath (with bubbles and everything). Lucas isn’t Lucas any more, and I’m not Jem. Weirdly, it’s the one time I’m able to forget about Kai and the Plan and the evilness of Team Popular. Even though those are the only reasons I’m kissing him.

I think maybe Lucas is just really, really good at kissing. He definitely had enough practice with Sasha. I don’t like thinking about Sasha and Lucas together; the feeling I get is far too close to jealousy.

Before I know what’s happening, Lucas is pulling my top over my head. And I let him. At least I’m not wearing one of my ratty old grey bras. This one’s purple.

We kiss some more before I realize the curtains are open, and anyone walking past could see me in my purple bra. ‘Um … Lucas … maybe close the curtains?’

‘No need. This is the quietest street in town … unless you count the ghosts from the graveyard.’ His hands are fiddling with the clasp of my bra and he starts to kiss me again. But I’m not sure his brain can cope with doing both things at once, so he stops the kissing for a moment. Then he stops the fiddling and steps back, wincing. ‘Shit. I’m sorry. Your friend’s buried there, isn’t he?’

I feel cold and exposed all of a sudden. ‘How do you know that?’ Guilt. It has to be guilt. Maybe Lucas made a point of finding out where Kai was buried, so he could visit the grave. Perhaps he stood over the grave, talking to Kai. Saying sorry.

Lucas shrugs. ‘It’s the biggest cemetery in town. Pretty much everyone gets buried there. Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m such an idiot. Talk about ruining the mood …’ He picks up my top from the floor and hands it to me. ‘Unless you do want to talk about it? Because we can totally do that.’

I am standing in Lucas’s living room in my bra and jeans. And he wants to talk about my dead best friend. This is beyond surreal. I can’t find any words to say, so I settle for silence.

Lucas sits down on the sofa. ‘You never talk about him, you know? It might help if you did. You must miss him so much.’

WHY IS HE DOING THIS? It makes no sense. Unless he really is feeling guilty. Either that or he’s just going out of the way to prove how sensitive he can be. I’ve never been the best judge of this sort of thing, but he looks genuine. I look in his face and see compassion there. Empathy. Sympathy.

This is not what I was expecting.

I don’t know what to do.

I’m not sure who Lucas is. The different versions of him are clashing in my head.

But the version in front of me is looking up at me with those amazing eyes and there’s only one thing I can do, really. It’s the next step in the Plan, and the Plan is the only thing that matters.





chapter thirty-nine


I’m lying in Lucas Mahoney’s bed. Naked. Lucas Mahoney is also lying in Lucas Mahoney’s bed. Also naked.

There are a couple of odd things about this situation. No. Make that three.

I’ve had sex.

I’ve had sex with Lucas Mahoney.

I liked having sex with Lucas Mahoney.