The Second Virginity of Suzy Green (12 page)

Crap.

He’s only
wearing the diamond stud earring I gave him. I can’t believe he’s kept it this
long. This is getting worse by the minute.

“Caramel frap
and coffee.” A female voice cuts right across my thoughts.

“Thanks,” I mutter,
snatching them from the counter and escaping back to Guy.

“I’d almost
given you up for lost,” Guy says when I give him his coffee. “That new guy must
be really bad at his job. Or were you catching up on old times?” He gives a
laugh.

He should only know the truth, then
laughing would be the last thing he’d be doing.

“A bit of both
actually.” I arch an eyebrow. Oops, here I go again imitating my mother. “He’s
still learning so he’s not very fast and he asked me if I remembered someone
from camp. But I didn’t.”

“He seems okay.
Ask him over for a chat.”

“No. No.
Absolutely—” oh crap. I take a long deep breath. “I mean, we can’t do that he
might get in trouble. For mixing with the customers. I’m sure that’s not
allowed.”

Guy frowns. “Why
ever not?”

“I don’t know. Maybe
because it stops them looking after the other customers. I don’t know. I’ve
never worked in a place like this.” I twist the bottom of my t-shirt around my
finger until it’s creased to bits. Hardly a good look.

“I’ve never had
a job,” Guy says dismissively. “Have you?”

“Of course.
Everyone in my old school had a job. I worked in a supermarket. Really boring
it was, packing shelves. How come you haven’t worked before?”

Guy turns his
nose up and suddenly I feel like a lower class person.

“I don’t have
to. My parents give me money. They’d rather I concentrate on my studies. They
say there’s plenty of time when I’m older for me to work. And I’m more than
happy to go along with them.”

“Oh. Well lucky
you. Lots of guys I know have to work or they’d have no money.”

Guy shifts
uncomfortably in his chair and sort of coughs.

“Sorry Suzy, I
didn’t mean to sound like a snob. I understand that some people less fortunate
than us have to work.” God he sounds like a pompous ass. And with an attitude
like that you’d think he was fifty not eighteen. I blame his parents.

“Yes, well they
do. So think yourself lucky your parents give you everything you need.” I sit
back in the chair and fold my arms.

Then, yet again,
I drink my frap straight down and don’t enjoy it.

“I take it that
means you want to go,” Guy says nodding at my finished drink.

“Yes please.
I’ve got to finish my project tonight and it’s already late.”

As we’re on our
way out Ryan walks past and winks. I can’t help but grin in response. Lucky Guy
is walking in front of me so doesn’t see.

“Ouch.” I cry,
banging my arm on the side.

I give it a
quick rub then resume pulling on my jeans. Trying to change in a small cubicle
in the girls’ bathroom at school isn’t exactly what I’d planned during my
pre-meeting planning session with Maddie last night. I’d got it all sorted:
take the bus home after school, change, grab something to eat so my stomach
doesn’t rumble, and get Mom to take me into town. Simple. And nothing could
possibly go wrong.

So I thought.
What I didn’t bank on was the freakin’ Principal asking all the Student
Committee reps to meet him in the hall after school for a quick run through of
what he expects of us. Like we need to be told how to behave and stuff. I don’t
think so.

Lucky for me
when I phoned Mom she agreed to bring my jeans and shirt to school at lunchtime
or it would have been a nightmare—although she did take a bit of persuading.
Imagine if I’d had to go in my uniform. At the moment all Ryan knows is I live
around here. Who knows what might happen if he finds out where I go to school.
Though I suppose if he really wanted to find me it wouldn’t be hard as he’s
bound to see who I hang out with, we go to Starbucks so often. All he’d need to
do is ask one of them, on the pretence of me leaving something there.

My other problem
is getting out of school without being seen. School regulations state we have
to be in school uniform all the time until we get home. I reckon they have an
easier time in prison than we do here sometimes. Especially with all these
silly rules. Like who cares if I take my tie off after school?

When I’m
ready—well ready in the loosest sense, my hair’s beyond fixing so all I can do
is scrape it back and hope I don’t look too stupid—I peer out of the door and
make a run for it. My heart’s pounding so loudly in my ears I swear the
Principal will hear it in his office. The corridors are empty. Even so, I
daren’t breathe until I get out of the back door and run down the side of the
building and I’m in the street. If any teacher sees me now I can say I’ve
already been home.

I stand still
for a moment and take a few deep breaths. I need to appear calm and in control,
whatever I feel like inside. If Ryan sees me all flustered and stressed out
he’ll think he can do what he likes.

The walk to
Victoria Park takes about ten minutes and when I get close to the entrance my
calmness evaporates and my stomach begins to churn. I feel so sick, I’m not
sure I can go through with it. My hands are all sweaty so I wipe them down the
sides of my jeans. I’m scared. Not only that I’ve totally forgotten what Maddie
and I planned I’d say. I’m not going. I can’t. I’ll go back home and risk Ryan
dropping me in it.

***

“Geez Suzy. What
is it with you? I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.” I knew Maddie
would be angry. Hardly surprising. I could throttle myself too.

“I couldn’t do
it. My brain froze. Couldn’t remember anything we’d planned, so I came home.” I
kick off my shoes and lay down on my bed. “I feel so bad.”

“How far away is
it? If you went straight back he might be still waiting for you.”

“It’s nearly
five. He’s hardly going to wait for an hour is he?”

“I suppose not.”
She pauses. “I wish I was with you. At least then you’d have gone. The only
thing you can do is go to Starbucks next time he’s working and arrange to meet
him again.”

“What’s the
point? I’ll leave it. Let him do his worst.” I bite on my bottom lip.

“And totally
screw up your life. That’s not such a good idea. Don’t worry,” her voice drops
and is much softer. “It’ll work out. You’ve got out of far bigger scrapes than
this in the past.”

“I have?” That’s
news to me.

“Okay. Maybe not
this big, but something will happen and you’ll be fine. I have a good feeling
about this.” Oh great. Now suddenly she’s admitting to having feelings when in
the past she’s totally denied being able to see things.

“Whatever. Well
one thing’s for sure I’m never going to be able to do my homework tonight.
Couldn’t concentrate on anything even with a gun to my head.”

“Will you stop
it. It’s not natural to hear you worrying about homework. It’s too weird.” I
can’t help but grin. She’s so right. It is weird.

“Suzy,” I hear Mom
calling.

“Hang on Maddie.
Yes Mom?”

“Someone to see
you,” she says poking her head around the door.

“Is it Lori?
Send her up.”

“No it’s a boy.”
Oh no, not Guy I am so not up to pretending everything is okay. “Ryan.”

My stomach hits
the floor and shoots back up again. I hold onto the edge of the bed for
support.

“I won’t be a
minute,” I somehow manage to say as Mom turns away, closing the door behind
her. “Maddie, did you hear—”

“Yes. Shit,
Suzy. No escaping him now.” She gives a hollow laugh but I can’t respond
because my breathing is becoming decidedly labored. I think I’m in the throes
of a major panic attack. “Suzy, are you okay? You sound like you’re choking or
something. Hold your breath, count to ten and then breathe.”

I do as she says
and somehow my breathing sort of returns to normal.

“I’m fine now. I
think,” I say still wheezing a bit. “Just got a bit weird for a moment.” I take
another huge breath. “Okay. What the hell am I going to say?”

“If you can
remember what we said last night great, if not then say the first thing that
comes into your head. You’ll be good. I have every faith in you.” Glad someone
has. “Go now before you totally freak. And phone me as soon as he’s gone. Good
luck.”

I drop my phone
onto the bed and force myself out of my bedroom and downstairs to the living
room, where I assume Mom has taken him. The closer I get to the room the harder
my heart pounds. And my tongue is stuck fast to the roof of my mouth it’s so
dry up there.

Standing outside, I swallow, take a deep
breath, and then push open the door. Ryan is sitting as relaxed as anything on
the green leather sofa, with Mom opposite looking just as comfortable.

What I wouldn’t
give to be on an island in the Caribbean at this precise moment.

“Hello,” I
squeak, my voice sounding decidedly mouse-like.

Ryan jumps up
from his seat, closely followed by Mom.

“I’ll leave you
to it,” Mom says. “Good to meet you Ryan. Let me know if you want anything to
eat or drink.” She smiles and leaves, closing the door behind her.

Thank goodness
she didn’t hang around. Though she could be listening at the door.

“I waited for ages.
Why didn’t you turn up?” Ryan’s accusing tone draws me from my thoughts.

“Um—well—you see
the Principal called a meeting for the new Student Liaison Committee members
and he went on for ages and I thought you’d have left. So I came home.” Phew.
It’s amazing how much easier it is when you tell the truth.

“Really?” What?
Doesn’t he believe me? “You on a student committee. I don’t think so.”

“I am. Truth.
I’m not me any more. I mean I am me, clearly, but not the same me you knew
before if you get what I mean. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You
see things have changed and—” I stop and draw in a breath before I pass out as
I’m feeling all light-headed.

“Stop.” Ryan
holds up his hand. “Slow down. I didn’t get any of that apart from you’re not you
but you are or something.”

“Sorry. Let’s
sit down.” I gesture to the sofa and we both drop down onto it. Not too close
though. It’s a large sofa, you can easily get four people on it, and we both
sit right into our respective corners. Calmness engulfs me. It will be fine. I
just know it.

“Tell me again,”
Ryan says.

“I’m not the
girl you knew before. Things have happened and I’ve changed.”

“What things?”

“Just things.” I
pause for a moment while thoughts of Rosie and our past life flash through my
mind.

Though it seems
more like a dream than anything else, so much has happened since. More than any
person my age should have to go through. I have the strongest urge to tell Ryan
about Rosie, which is weird when you think I avoid mentioning it at all costs to
everyone else. But if it’s going to help him understand what I’m doing then
it’s the right thing to do. Anyway, if he’s anything like the Ryan he was
before he’ll understand.

“My sister had
an accident, and she died,” I hitch in a breath. Tears fill my eyes and one
drops onto my lap. Ryan slides along the sofa, until he’s next to me, and rests
his hand on top of mine, but I quickly pull it away on the pretence of wiping
my eyes. His touch sent a shock right through me, even though I’m upset. It’s
all way too confusing.

“I’m so sorry,”
he says, obvious concern in his voice. “I remember how much she meant to you.
You used to talk about her all the time. She was called Rosie wasn’t she?” I
nod. “If it helps to talk about it I’m a good listener.” Oh no. It’s the
understanding voice.

“Thanks.” I
sniff, giving a resigned smile through my tears. “But talking won’t bring her
back. Won’t change what I did.” Shit. Where did that come from?

“What did you
do?” His eyebrows draw together in a frown.

If I tell him
and he hates me for it I don’t know what I’ll do. But if I don’t tell him he
won’t understand how important it is for me to keep up my charade at school. To
quote one of Mom’s favorite sayings: I’m between a rock and a hard place.

What would Rosie
have done? That’s a no brainer. She’d have told him everything. She always said
it was best to be upfront with people. Okay. I’m not at Rosie’s level yet, so
I’ll tell him only what’s necessary. He doesn’t need to know everything.

“When Rosie died
it was like my world came to an end. You see it was my fault. I—” My voice
cracks, taking me by surprise. I lean forward and rest my head on my knees.

“You said it was
an accident,” Ryan says. “How can an accident be your fault?”

I turn my head to the side so I can see
him.

“It was my
present,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “The helicopter she died in.
That exploded with her onboard. I gave Rosie the ride as a present for her
birthday.”