Winter's Shadow (22 page)

There was a long line of people queuing outside the surf club’s entrance as Winter steered Jessie into the parking lot. Most of them had adopted the typical Goth look: lots of black eyeliner, torn jeans, heavy boots and purple highlights. A few were wearing T-shirts featuring the Urban Ninjas logo – something Winter considered a major faux pas. She’d learned from her mother that you never under any circumstances wore a T-shirt to a gig advertising the band you were about to see. It simply wasn’t done. Unless you were trying to be ironic, of course, and Winter doubted most of these angsty teenagers were capable of such self-awareness. They looked far too grim.

She stepped off the scooter, feeling a little conspicuous in her relatively boring ensemble. She wished
she owned some edgier clothes to fit in with the other concertgoers. At least she was wearing black.

Winter scanned the queue for Jasmine and felt a bit better about her fashion choice when she finally located her friend. Jasmine had apparently foregone the idea of dressing like a Goth, and instead decided to go in the opposite direction, choosing a skimpy, glittering crop top and high heels – an outfit Winter suspected might be difficult to mosh in. Sam stood beside Jasmine, looking equally out of place among the grungy long-haired set, with his severe crew-cut and neatly ironed powder-blue shirt. Winter smiled to herself as she crossed the parking lot towards them – trust Jasmine to consciously glam up just to irritate the grunge set.

‘I’m so glad you came!’ Jasmine said, yanking Winter into an exuberant hug as soon as she was within arm’s reach.

Sam grinned at Winter over Jasmine’s shoulder. ‘Hi, Winter.’

‘Sam,’ Winter managed to blurt out in greeting, before Jasmine squeezed the air out of her.

Winter noticed some dirty looks from the other people lined up behind Jasmine and Sam. ‘I’d better get to the back of line. Some of the natives are looking restless.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ Jasmine said, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the queue.

‘Hey! You can’t do that!’ an overweight, grouchy-looking guy in a black T-shirt several sizes too small yelled from behind them.

Jasmine whipped her head around and snapped, ‘Deal with it!’

Winter glanced up and down the line for Blake. Her heart sank when she couldn’t see him. Jasmine smirked at her. ‘Looking for someone?’

Winter tried to shrug innocently, but it was clear by her friend’s reaction that her feelings were written all over her face. Jasmine linked arms with her as the line began to move forward. ‘C’mon, he might already be inside.’

The event organisers had set up a makeshift stage at the front of the surf club, and turned the small kiosk at the back into a bar. There was a huge rectangular fixture hanging over the stage with half a dozen spotlights attached to it, all trained on the area where the band would play. The structure looked as if it would have been at home in an indoor stadium and seemed wildly out of place, not to mention dangerous, in the modest dimensions of the surf club. Aiding these overhead fluorescents was a netting of blue Christmas bulbs strung along the walls. Their glow hid the bulletin board and trophy case behind them, which would have broken the illusion that the venue wasn’t solely a temple of rock’n’roll worship.

Sam spotted the bar. ‘Right, can I get you lovely ladies a drink?’

Winter shook her head and reached for her purse. ‘No, it’s fine. I can get my own.’

‘Let him get you a drink, Win.’ Jasmine turned to Sam and smiled appreciatively. ‘Thank you, sweetie, a couple
of Cokes would be great. And could you see if they’ve got any chips? Barbecue.’

‘I’ll be right back.’ He leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

Jasmine sighed wistfully as she watched him disappear into the blue miasma.

‘You’ve got yourself a good one there, Jas,’ Winter said, neglecting to comment on how many other ‘good ones’ Jasmine had known this year alone.

First there had been Eric, captain of the swim team, a blond, lanky boy with an almost perfect inverted isosceles-triangle-shaped midsection. He hadn’t lasted more than two weeks, which was a week longer than Kevin Mulhoney, an aspiring painter who started seeing Jasmine after he asked her to pose for him for the yearly Hagan’s Bluff Portrait Competition. Kevin had barely finished sketching Jasmine’s legs when she dumped him – apparently he was making her look fat – and started dating Chris Baker, who had hair almost as long as Winter’s and a habit of misquoting poetry.

There were others, of course, but these were the first three that popped into Winter’s head. Based on how short-lived these romances had been, Winter couldn’t help but wonder when poor Sam’s use-by date would be up. Although, considering the starry-eyed look in Jasmine’s eyes, there was a chance he might last longer than the rest.

‘I know. I keep trying to find a fault with him but so far I’m coming up empty. He might just be perfect.’

Winter mimicked her friend’s wistful expression. ‘Jasmine Hu: hopeless romantic.’

Jasmine ignored her, and pursed her lips thoughtfully. ‘We would make beautiful babies . . .’

Winter couldn’t disagree with that. With Jasmine’s exquisite golden skin and Sam’s blond perfection, their children would definitely be genetically blessed. She was about to comment on this when she noticed a slow smile spread across Jasmine’s face.

Winter turned to follow Jasmine’s gaze and felt the ground lurch beneath her, like she was standing on the bow of a ship which had suddenly hit a wave.

Blake had arrived.

Dressed in a fitted suit and collared shirt open at the neck – in marked contrast to the torn jeans and T-shirts of the other concertgoers – Blake stood at the entrance of the surf club, appearing ill at ease amid the flowing tide of grungy teenagers. Gorgeous as he was, Blake looked a little like somebody’s older brother who had wandered into the venue to keep an eye on things.

‘Oh my God,’ Winter said, surprised she was still capable of speech. Seeing Blake was a much bigger shock than she’d expected.

Jasmine put an arm around her and gave her a squeeze. ‘Steady, girl. Just remember to breathe.’

‘He came!’

‘Of course he did. You invited him. Now, go talk to him.’

She gently nudged Winter towards Blake. He was
squinting into the gloom of the surf club, as though searching for somebody. Looking for her.

‘Maybe I’ll wait here a bit longer.’

Jasmine pushed her again. Winter glanced desperately at Jasmine, but saw there was no point arguing with her.

‘Go
on
!’ Jasmine ordered.

Winter took a deep breath and walked nervously through the crowd to where Blake was standing. Backlit by the blue neon, he seemed impossibly beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that it made her even more hesitant to approach him. She didn’t feel she had the right to enter Blake’s orbit. The way his thick black curls framed his face, those high cheekbones and sculpted jawline – he just looked so . . .
perfect
. Her heart skipped a beat as his eyes met hers, and she felt a little weak at the knees.

‘Decided to brave the crowd, did you?’ she said, finally reaching him. Winter was impressed by how relaxed her voice sounded in opposition to the almost debilitating excitement and anxiety she felt crackling through her body.

‘Well, I thought to myself, “how bad could it be?”’ he replied, struggling to raise his voice over the hum of the crowd. A boy wearing his cap backwards bumped roughly into Blake as he angled towards the bar. He didn’t bother apologising, just continued on obliviously. Blake laughed off the rudeness. ‘I might have made a mistake.’

‘I’m glad you came.’ And that was all Winter could think of to say. His appearance had thrown her to the
point where she seemed incapable of coming up with anything to contribute to the conversation. She was just starting to panic that she would spend the rest of the evening suffering this speech paralysis, when Jasmine sashayed out of the gloom to rescue her.

‘Hi, I’m Jasmine. Winter’s best friend.’ Jasmine stuck out her hand, unable to restrain herself from adopting her most sultry tone of voice.

Blake shook her hand. ‘Nice to meet you, Jasmine.’

Winter couldn’t be positive in the dim light, but it looked as though Jasmine actually blushed when Blake touched her. Winter had never seen a guy make Jasmine blush before.

‘I’m sure Winnie’s told you all about me?’ Jasmine continued hopefully.

‘Not really,’ Blake said with a shrug, and Winter felt guilty at the secret delight she took in the way Jasmine’s eyes widened slightly in shock. She was used to being the centre of every male’s attention. Luckily, Sam arrived at that moment to offer Jasmine’s ego the boost it required.

‘Two Cokes. There weren’t any —’ Seeing Blake, Sam paused mid-sentence and Winter was intrigued to see his cheerful disposition fade. He handed Jasmine the two drinks and stepped territorially in front of her.

‘Blake, is it?’ Sam said, smiling politely but keeping his gaze fixed on Blake in an entirely unfriendly manner. ‘I’m Sam.’

Blake nodded, but made no effort to put Sam at ease. Instead, he reacted to Sam’s presence with similar hostility, his smile tightening, becoming a grimace. The two shook hands, both reluctant to be the one to break their grip first. They appeared to be testing each other’s strength.

Winter didn’t know why Blake and Sam were acting so aggressively towards each other, but she thought she should try to put a stop to it.

‘Maybe we should move closer to the stage? I think they’re about to start.’

As if on cue, the speakers at the front of the stage whined with feedback as a roadie switched the mics on. Jasmine had been staring at Blake so intensely that she’d been oblivious to her date’s obvious insecurity. Now she noted Sam’s reaction, and quickly tried to defuse the situation.

‘Good idea, I want to be able to see the band.’ She grabbed Sam by his arm and tugged him towards the stage.

Sam allowed himself to be led away, but not before shooting Blake one last look, as though warning him to keep his distance. Blake seemed to relax once Sam was gone. He gestured towards the stage where a sizeable crowd of teenagers was gathering in preparation for the band’s arrival. ‘After you.’

Winter nodded, wishing she had the courage to take Blake by the hand as Jasmine had taken Sam. Instead, she walked ahead of him, taking some small comfort in how closely he trailed in her wake as she pushed through the
crowd. A few times he lightly bumped up against her, the brief contact giving her goosebumps of pleasure.

Once they’d reached the spot Jasmine and Sam had found near the front, Winter was careful to put herself between the two guys. Jasmine must have been thinking the same thing, as she’d made sure Sam was standing on the outside of their quartet. Her arm was securely around Sam’s waist in an effort to put him at ease.

It didn’t seem to be working.

Winter could see Sam’s expression in the neon glow and he didn’t seem at all happy. It never failed to surprise her how competitive guys could be, not just in sport, but in all areas of life. Thinking about Sam’s reaction, Winter wondered if a guy would ever feel that protective towards her.

She stole a glance at Blake who was looking around distractedly as though worried somebody might recognise him. It was a minor emotional blow to catch him looking so uncomfortable. She understood that this wasn’t exactly his crowd, but he might at least mask his uneasiness a little for her benefit! If only he would look at her and smile, or do something that showed he felt a ghost of the excitement she was feeling, or, failing that, just acknowledge her. Instead, Blake’s gaze seemed to take in everything around him
except
Winter.

A loud cheer issued from the crowd as the Urban Ninjas took the stage, and Winter tried to will herself out of the anxious funk she was slipping into. Maybe Blake would loosen up once the music started. The lead singer,
Alfie Jameson, strutted up to the microphone, his Fender guitar slung low on his hip. He looked older than he had in the video clips Winter had caught previously on television – closer to thirty than twenty. ‘Good evening, Hagan’s Bluff,’ he purred to the audience. ‘Hope you have a good time tonight – I know we will.’ And they leapt straight into their signature hit, ‘What Dreams May Come’.