Sugar Secrets…& Rivals Page 2

  Ollie raised his eyebrows and motioned frantically at Joe to talk to Kerry, who had stopped to look in a shop window. Joe gave his friend a weak smile in return and, shrugging his shoulders, went back to studying the ground in front of him.

  The truth was he didn’t have a clue what to say to Kerry or most other people for that matter (but Kerry in particular). The fact that Joe fancied her like mad didn’t help - it just made him even more nervous. And anyway, at the moment, making conversation was the last thing on his mind.

  Joe was worrying about Cat’s question at the barbie earlier. He wondered if it had been meant as a joke, which was how it had seemed, or if she actually knew something.

  Realistically, he doubted it. After all, it wasn’t even as though he was a hardened drinker - he’d just had the odd binge or two every now and again when life got on top of him. But it wasn’t something he felt he could confess to the others, and he never got drunk in front of them. He couldn’t bear the thought of everyone scrutinising his motives.

  Joe had been so relieved when the barbie had come to an end. He hadn’t enjoyed it one bit - what with that dumb spin the bottle game and the fact that he’d been within spitting distance of Kerry all evening, yet had hardly said three words to her. The whole thing had been a total disaster.

  Joe watched Kerry as she walked slightly ahead of him. She was wearing her red-brown curly hair pulled back into a ponytail so that a mass of curls bobbed about at the back of her head with each step. Joe caught a glimpse of her bare neck and sighed deeply. He imagined burying his head into her hair, neck and shoulders, kissing her passionately…

  As if aware that she was being stared at, Kerry turned round and peered at Joe. Looking quickly away, he blushed furiously and prayed that she couldn’t read his mind.

  Kerry smiled a little uneasily. She knew Joe was shy and she felt a bit sorry for him.

  “It’s getting a bit chilly now, isn’t it?” she said, trying to get a conversation going. Talking about the weather was as lame an opener as any she’d ever tried, but it was all she could think of.

  “Mmmm.” Joe glanced up at her for a millisecond before looking away again. What else could he say?

  “Did you have a good time tonight?” Kerry asked, smiling.

  “It was OK, I s’pose…”

  Joe searched every corner of his mind, frantically trying to think of something else to add, something that would engage Kerry and keep them talking for hours. But he couldn’t think of anything.

  So he kept quiet, mentally tearing into himself for being so inept, so withdrawn, so useless!

  Kerry was beginning to wish she’d kept her mouth shut. Joe was a nice guy, but he was never going to set the world alight with his sparkling wit and stimulating small talk. Maybe he channelled all his energy into his school work? Kerry knew he was a bit of a boffin because he was in the top stream of all his classes.

  Perhaps she ought to talk to him about schoolwork or something. God! she thought. How boring would that be?

  They carried on in silence.

  The boys walked through the town centre with Kerry and Sonja, then peeled back to their own homes. The girls carried on walking, enjoying the cool air and quiet stillness all around them. They were making their way to Sonja’s, where Kerry was staying the night.

  “That wasn’t a bad evening for a spur of the moment thing, was it?” said Sonja.

  “It was OK,” Kerry replied less certainly “I mean, it would have been better if Mick had been there.”

  She sighed dramatically. Kerry had had the hots for Mick ever since he joined The Loud, Ollie and Joe’s band. She’d been trying to engage him in some kind of conversation for ages, but he hadn’t taken the hint.

  Sonja had always been encouraging, giving Kerry tips on how to get herself noticed, but even she now thought that Mick wasn’t interested.

  “Yeah, I’m beginning to think you’re on to a loser there, Kez. I hate to tell you this, but I saw him with someone when I was in town earlier today.”

  “What? Who?” Kerry wailed, crestfallen.

  “I dunno who she was. She looked like a bit of a bimbo to me. You know, big hair and too much make-up. Like a giant Barbie doll really.”

  “I always hated my Barbie doll,” Kerry said through gritted teeth. “I ripped her head off and burnt it when I was seven. So why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “I’ve been waiting for the right moment. I didn’t want to tell you earlier ‘cause I knew it would put a downer on your evening.”

  “I s’pose so. Oh well, there goes another one, I guess.”

  “Plenty more fish in the sea, I say.” Sonja said cheerfully.

  “Yeah, it’s just that I’m swimming in the wrong waters,” Kerry muttered. “And while I’m on a downer, I could’ve killed Matt tonight. I wish we didn’t always have to end up playing those stupid games. They’re so humiliating. I couldn’t believe it when he started going on about my chest!”

  “I know,” said Sonja sympathetically as she recalled the scene. “It was pretty rotten of him to get so personal. I was surprised. I know he can be insensitive, but I didn’t think he’d go that far. Maybe he genuinely didn’t realise you had a thing about your… erm… boob size.”

  “Possibly,” Kerry said, unconvinced. “I thought perhaps he was trying to look cool in front of his mates. You know, humiliate a girl just to get a laugh. But thanks for sticking up for me and getting back at him. I really appreciate it.”

  “No worries. Though I do think you’re far too nice sometimes. You ought to give as good as you get a bit more.”

  “I know.”

  Kerry felt like a little kid being told off by her mum for not standing up to the school bully. Sonja was good at making her feel inadequate. Kerry was sure it wasn’t deliberate - it was just something in Sonja’s personality.

  As the relationship between the two friends had developed over the years, Kerry had realised that they were total opposites in virtually every way. Sonja could be a bit of a bossy-boots, domineering and loud, and relishing being the centre of attention.

  Kerry was much quieter, more sensible, definitely not a limelight hogger, and mostly happy for Sonja to tell her what to do. And yet they clicked, they were best friends and had been since junior school. Strange really.

  Kerry felt proud that someone as popular, stunning-looking and ambitious as Sonja would give her the time of day, let alone be her only real confidante. A lot of girls were desperate to hang out with Sonja, but she’d chosen Kerry and only Kerry. No other girl shared the same level of intimacy. It made Kerry feel good.

  Sonja’s house was one of those detached, four-bedroom executive homes in a quiet cul-de-sac on a smart estate. Kerry loved going there. It was so different to the boring 1930s semi she and her family lived in.

  Although her house was only a few streets away, it was a world apart from this. As well as her own very spacious bedroom, Sonja even had a personal phone extension. And the Harveys had a cappuccino maker in the kitchen, satellite TV and Surround Sound, plus a lot more things that Kerry would love to have but knew her family could never afford.

  Sonja went up to the front door and slipped her key in the lock.

  As quietly as they could, the pair tiptoed into the house and headed for the kitchen. It was 1.30 in the morning and while Sonja knew her parents were usually pretty relaxed about her social life, she did worry about accidentally waking anyone up at such a late hour.

  Switching the kettle on, Sonja began rummaging in the kitchen cupboards for biscuits while Kerry slumped in a chair and kicked off her too-tight shoes.

  “I’m whacked,” she said. “That was a mammoth walk home. Next time remind me to book a taxi.”

  “Oh, you old misery guts,” Sonja chided jokingly, “it was fun. I love walking through town late at night. And we had the guys with us for most of the way, so it wasn’t as if it was unsafe or anything.”

  “I know.”

  “Joe can be a we
ird one at times though, can’t he?” Sonja continued. “He hardly said a word at Matt’s and even less on the way home.”

  “He’s just shy. Not everyone in the world is as loud as you, you know,” said Kerry. “There’s got to be room for quiet people as well - people who do the listening rather than the talking.”

  “But he doesn’t do either! He’s on Planet Joe most of the time. He looked pretty fazed when Catty Cat asked him about his drinking, though. You don’t think he’s a secret alky, do you?”

  Kerry shook her head. “He’s the last person you’d expect to be knocking back bottles of gin. He’s far too sensible.”

  “Yeah, s’pose so,” Sonja agreed, frowning. “You know, I hate sensible people, they’re so… so boring!”

  Sonja waved her hand dramatically in front of her and Kerry giggled. It was such a sweeping statement and so typical of Sonja, who lacked tolerance at the best of times.

  “Your coffee’s ready,” Sonja carried on, oblivious to her friend’s stifled chuckles. “Shall we have it in my room?”

  Without waiting for a reply, she made her way towards the staircase. Kerry followed dutifully and the girls crept up to Sonja’s room where her mother had already made up the guest bed for Kerry.

  Crawling under their duvets, the girls spent ages whispering and giggling together about anything that happened to pop into their minds. Actually, if Kerry was honest, it was Sonja who did most of the talking. Kerry just grunted occasionally while her friend rattled on.

  It was after four in the morning before Sonja realised that Kerry hadn’t spoken for absolutely ages. She was, in fact, asleep.

  CHAPTER 4

  CAT AND MOUSE

  Kerry woke with a start. She was in a strange bed and for a few moments she didn’t have a clue where she was. Then she heard a rasping sound to her left that she gradually recognised as snoring.

  Turning her head, she saw Sonja sleeping soundly in the bed next to her.

  Kerry craned her neck to see the clock on Sonja’s bedside table. It was eleven thirty. She was late.

  Panic-stricken, she leapt out of bed. She had told her parents she wouldn’t be home any later than midday as the family were going to see one of her aunts for Sunday tea.

  It was a once-a-year visit and although Valerie was by far her favourite aunt, at sixteen years of age Kerry figured her time could be better spent in her room listening to CDs rather than catching up on family news with distant relations.

  However, against her better judgement, she had reluctantly agreed to go. It was a long drive and her dad would be livid if she held them up.

  Clutching the duvet around her with one hand, and carrying her toothbrush and hairbrush in the other, Kerry opened the bedroom door and looked from left to right. The last thing she needed right now was to have to make polite conversation with Sonja’s parents, or even her sisters or brother.

  She could hear ‘family noises’ downstairs, but the coast was clear and she scurried across the landing to the plush bathroom opposite.

  Kerry gave her face a quick splash with water, brushed her teeth and hair, went to the loo and scuttled back to Sonja’s room where she hurriedly got dressed.

  Then she went over to Sonja and began prodding her awake.

  “Son. Sonja! I have to go. Son!”

  Sonja stopped snoring, turned over and peered at her friend through mascara-smudged eyes.

  “Wh-what? What’s happened?”

  “I’m going, I have to go to my aunt’s this afternoon. I told you yesterday.”

  “So? Why did you wake me up to tell me again?” Sonja demanded grumpily. She wasn’t at her best first thing in the morning (even though it was now nearly noon).

  “I’m just telling you, OK? And thanks for putting me up.”

  Kerry quickly gathered her stuff together and made for the bedroom door.

  Sonja muttered something completely unintelligible, then rolled on to her front again, no doubt for another few hours’ kip.

  “I’m not surprised Kerry found a shop window more interesting than you! You hardly said a word to her all the way home.”

  Ollie was standing behind the counter of the End-of-the-Line café where he worked, wielding a dishcloth. Joe had popped in to say hello and Ollie was taking the opportunity to try and find out why his friend had been even quieter than usual the night before.

  Rather than take him to task at the time, Ollie had waited until today to mention it - and in a very jokey manner.

  “I mean,” he continued, grinning, “you had a perfect opportunity to have a conversation with a girl there - even if it was only Kerry - and you blew it, mate!”

  Joe gave a little smile. Not even Ollie knew that Joe fancied Kerry. “Yeah, I know. I was pretty crap, wasn’t I? But then my mind just goes completely blank, you know? Girls - it’s like they’re from another planet. I just don’t get them.”

  “I’ve noticed,” Ollie laughed. “But you’ve just got to be yourself, talk to them like you talk to me. Act natural.”

  “I know, I know, but that’s easy for you to say. Girls like you.”

  Ollie hooted with laughter. “They like you, too. It’s not as though you smell or anything. You’ve just got to give them a chance.”

  “But they don’t give me a chance. They look at me with pity or disgust, or they don’t even notice me at all. It’s not as though I look like Leonardo DiCaprio, is it?” Joe stared forlornly into his Coke.

  “C’mon, mate,” said Ollie encouragingly, “you’re doing yourself down! You’re not Quasimodo either.”

  “Sometimes I feel like Quasimodo…”

  “And that’s half your problem, you pillock! Your lack of confidence comes over within seconds of a girl meeting you. You assume they don’t like you and that puts them off straight away. Instead of always being negative about yourself, you need to concentrate on the positive.”

  “Which is what, exactly?”

  “Oh for God’s sake, man, don’t you know?”

  “Er, no. I didn’t realise there was anything good about me whatsoever.”

  Ollie ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation.

  “You’ve got loads going for you. I can’t believe you don’t see it! You’re super-intelligent, you’ve got a huge future waiting for you, whatever you do. You’re a really great person, you’re funny, good-looking in an indie band drummer sort of way… need I go on?”

  Seeing Joe’s worried expression, Ollie gave his friend a reassuring grin.

  “You just have to relax and enjoy life a bit more. The more uptight you are, the more it puts girls off. Look, you can practise on Natasha - she’s coming home for a few days soon. I can set you up, if you like?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Joe shot back. “Like she’s going to be interested in me.”

  “She would - she’s easy. Honest, she’d be asking you out.” Ollie chuckled wickedly.

  Joe had to laugh. He knew Ollie was joking. His twin sister Natasha, who was a model working in London, spent her whole life mixing with beautiful people. The chances of her even noticing Joe were zilch.

  “It’d be great to turn her down though, wouldn’t it?” Joe said, warming to the idea. “Winstead’s answer to Kate Moss asks me for a date and I say ‘sorry, I’m washing my hair’.”

  The boys’ laughter was interrupted by a voice from the kitchen.

  “Come on, Ollie, I’m paying you to work here, not chat.”

  Ollie’s Uncle Nick, who owned the café, was obviously getting a bit miffed by the fact that Ollie sounded as if he was having a good time rather than cleaning tables.

  Raising his eyebrows in mock surprise, Ollie gave Joe a meaningful look. “On my way,” he called back.

  “I’ll leave you to it, then. I’m off home now,” Joe smiled.

  “Yeah,” said Ollie. “Catch you later.”

  Joe walked out of the café into bright sunshine and turned right. Then, feeling the warm sun on his face, he made a snap decision to go ho
me via the scenic route, through the park, and began sauntering in the opposite direction.

  It was a fab day again, warm and sunny without being too humid. Joe now felt in a much better mood - no, a really good mood - after the praise that Ollie had dished out.

  It was just the sort of day for sitting on the grass, watching the world go by, maybe doing a bit of writing.

  Ollie was the only person in the world who knew that Joe wrote songs - and he had been sworn to secrecy.

  Joe wasn’t embarrassed by the fact that he preferred putting his emotions down on paper rather than voicing them out loud, but he was afraid that people might take the mickey out of him for doing it. Being hugely sensitive, he just couldn’t take such flak. Even Ollie realised that.

  Joe patted the back pocket of his jeans and felt the hard-edged outline of the little notebook and pencil he always kept there. Whenever inspiration took him (and he was alone) he would take the pad out, open it at a crisply clean, blank page and scribble down a few words, maybe a line or two of a song or a phrase he liked the sound of. Anything that popped into his head really.

  This afternoon felt like a good time to write.

  Joe walked through the park until he found his favourite spot. It was under the boughs of a huge old oak tree whose roots fanned out into splendid v-shapes before gradually tapering into the ground. Joe could sit in the middle of this gnarled formation, between two of the roots, and feel as if he was sitting in a big wooden armchair.

  From there, he could look out on the most wonderful view of the lake with its mix of wildlife, boats for hire and the kiosk that sold ice-creams and teas.

  It was a brilliant place to be creative.

  Joe took the notepad from his pocket and sat down. He began scribbling, inspiration flowing through him.

  Totally engrossed in his writing, he didn’t notice a figure walking purposefully towards him until he heard the clop clop clop of heels on the concrete path. By the time he realised someone was coming, it was too late.

  “Well, if it isn’t Mr Goody Two Shoes!”

  Joe’s head shot up at the sound of Cat’s rasping voice and he felt his stomach tighten. Although Cat was one of the gang and they were supposed to be friends, Joe never really felt comfortable with her. He was terrified of the bitchy comments she was always coming out with and her in-your-face sexuality.