7. Laura

Crush – Jennifer Paige

Breakfast was a silent affair on Friday morning. My father was exhausted after picking up Catherine from the airport at three am and Catherine was severely jetlagged from her conference in Afghanistan. There was little to be said, and neither parental authority realised I didn’t eat anything.

I tried to convince my father to take me to school but all I got was: “Sweetie, I’m tired….”. So I was doomed to the ordeal of taking the bus, a fate which a I resigned myself to silently.

Rayne hadn’t returned to school all week, which meant that a bleak Politics lesson and a very boring English lesson probably loomed over me again. I didn’t like doing things completely on my own; there was no competition, no scape goats and no scale to measure my achievements against.

The only light at the end of this very boring tunnel was that Diana, one of the neighbours, had asked me to babysit for her son, Conner, tonight. The boy was actually quite intelligent, even though he was only six, and I could tell him anything in confidence and not a soul would hear of it. I had known Connor for four or five years now, and I always enjoyed baby sitting him.

I stomped out of the house, unsurprisingly late. I didn’t realise this though until I saw the 8.43 bus drive away from the bus stop: the last bus that would take me to school on time. “Fudge!” I murmured, watching it drive away. Though Andrea had never officially talked to me about my constant lateness, she had dropped a few hints begging me to try and be on time.

I walked up the empty bus shelter and leant against the edge, knowing there was nothing I could do but wait.

I didn’t recognise the sleek black car driving around the bend for a second, though when it came to a smooth halt in front of the bus shelter I knew exactly who was in it.

“I owe you one bitch.” Rayne said, her window sliding down. This time I didn’t hesitate as I slid into the expensive seat. Rayne was wearing sunglasses, probably to obscure her black eye. Her lip was still swollen, though the cut was quickly healing.

“Hey Rayne.” I answered, fastening my seatbelt. “I’m glad your back.” This would add a little excitement to my day, even if it simply meant she would be rude to me in Politics and gossip about Mary in English.

“I’m not.” She answered.

“Its only one day and then you can have the whole weekend to party!” I grinned. She threw me a distained glance.

“Thanks to that fuck Rob my parents have grounded me for fighting. I’m not going anywhere this weekend.”

“Oh.” Rayne really was annoyed about that. I didn’t know what to say, so I just kept quiet and observed her unique route to school.

“Well, Mrs Green better set us a long and complicated essay if she doesn’t want me to die of boredom.” I heard the smile in Rayne’s voice and knew she wasn’t going to use me as a scapegoat for her aggression.

“I’m hoping not. I have so much revision to do! My first exam is in two weeks!” Rayne looked surprised for a second.

“You’re right!” She said, casting me a glance. “The exams are beginning soon, aren’t they!”

“Yes… our politics exam’s in just under a month.”

“Fuck it.” I laughed at her surprise.

“It’s almost May Rayne! Exams always start in May!”

She laughed too, catching the humour in the situation. “You know, I almost missed my first GCSE because I had skived school all week. My headmistress nearly went ballistic.” I grinned. I could imagine Rayne strolling into an exam hall late, completely at ease, while the staff were ready to burn her alive.

As our laughter died out we sat in silence for a second. I didn’t mind listening to her breathing, occasionally disturbed by a chesty cough no doubt caused by the smoking, so I made no attempt to break it.

“What are you doing lunchtime?” Rayne asked casually as we swung into the teacher car park three minutes late.

“Huh?” I had been deep in thought.

“Lunchtime?”

“Eating lunch? What am I meant to be doing?” I asked, curious.

“We’ll see. I owe you one.” She said, smoothly parking and turning off the engine. Before I could protest, she had got up and slammed the door with a finality. I got up and followed her to the boot of the car.

“You’ve already ‘paid me back’, and you don’t even owe me!” Rayne shook her head at me. “What the hell is that supposed to mean anyway?” I demanded.

“Are you swearing catholic girl?” Rayne said, raising an eyebrow at me and tugging her bag from the boot of the car. I involuntarily blushed.

I didn’t know how to reply, so I just watched her walk towards the school. She threw me one last flirtatious glance before disappearing into the crowd.

I remember Carol’s advice this week: keep your mind open, and little will surprise you. Even with my mind wide open Rayne never ceased to amaze me.

* * *

Politics was uneventful: we were revising in silence, though even for a class as small as ours, it was almost impossible as Rayne would shoot critical remarks to me across the room and I would answer her asking about her lunch plans. She always answered cryptically, giving nothing away.

I then had a free, during which I couldn’t concentrate, so I ended up throwing bits of paper against the wall, aiming at nothing particular, listening to my iPod.

My history teacher noticed my lack of concentration when I gave her a completely non-sequitter answer to her question. She demanded what was wrong with me, in a kind episode of concern, and told me not to be nervous about the exam: I would ace it.

Everybody assumed it was the exams I was worried about; a completely false assumption I didn’t bother to correct. My philosophy teacher offered me words of comfort and advice which I heard, yet didn’t listen to, as philosophy was my last lesson before lunch.

The buzzer sounded and I rushed out of philosophy, barely hearing my teacher’s advise to revise. I tried to keep calm as I hurried towards the common room where I hoped to find Rayne, who would at last be forced to explain her cryptic comments.

“Whoa girl, where are you going?” A hand grabbed my arm and swung me around to face Rayne minus the earlier addition of sunglasses. Her hair had been artfully brushed to hide her bruised forehead, though her black eye was still pretty obvious.

“Oh!” I said, unable to come up with anything better. When Rayne started steering me in the other direction, I looked even more surprised.

“Where are we going?” I asked, twisting my arm out of her grasp and falling into step beside her. She grabbed my wrist again, and I was too surprised to protest.

“Away from here.” She burst out of the one of the side exits, dragging me behind her. I suddenly realised we were heading towards the car park.

“No. No, no, no!” I shouted, digging my heels into the tarmac and resisting her grip. She didn’t release my wrist though, she only stood still and faced me.

“You’re not going to miss school, and we are allowed to leave the school premises during lunch hours.” She said, a smile playing in her eyes.

“I don’t believe you.” I snapped, looking back at the school. “I bet it’s against several school rules.”

“It isn’t!” she turned away again and resumed her walk towards her car, hand still firmly clamped around my wrist. “Come along now. We don’t have all day.”

“Fine. This better be good.” I growled. “And I am pretty sure kidnapping is against school rules.”

“Yes, that is.” Rayne said with mock delight at my intelligence as we reached her car.

“Shut up!” I said, dragging the word out playfully and bringing a smile to Rayne’s lips. “Where are we going again?”

* * *

I only realised we were going to the centre of the city when Rayne drove past St Peter; over half way there. I glanced of Rayne, who was wearing a very smug expression, but decided not to comment.

I had to admit, however much I was hating not knowing where we were going, I was somehow enjoying this. Rayne may not be so bad after all.

We parked in a car park in the inner city and started walking in silence. We were walking close enough so that Rayne’s hand grazed mine as we walked along.

The café Rayne had selected was a good fifteen minute walk from the parking lot, which we spent in silence, each of us thinking our spate thoughts.

I mused over the fact that Rayne looked like a completely different person in her urban surroundings: more like an art student of some sort. Her dark clothes, dark hair and curious detachment to her surroundings gave her a mystical, omniscient air. Even her bruised and battered face seemed to make sense in this environment. I walked beside her, feeling completely insignificant, wondering where the bitch had gone and where this girl with some spiritual aura had appeared from. A girl I was jealous of.

And then we reached the café and mystical Rayne evaporated and was replaced by smirking Rayne who the waitress knew and who I felt more comfortable around. “Rayne!” she gasped in delight when Rayne entered.

Rayne smiled in return, and I was surprised to see its warmth reach her eyes, an unusual feat for Rayne. “Hey Eliza.” The waitress embraced Rayne in a familiar gesture which Rayne returned. The waitress, Eliza, was tall with shoulder length brown hair tied in a loose knot. Her eyes were bright brown, and though she wasn’t naturally pretty she had dressed to accent her better features which made her almost beautiful.

“Your usual table?” Eliza asked, glancing over Rayne shoulder at me. Her smile faltered when she saw me. She stared at me in obvious surprise, and when Rayne nodded at her question she stared at me intently, as if I was some show cased portrait. I blushed, and she relented with her gaze, smiling at Rayne and spinning around to lead us to a table.

I looked around the café, noticing its few customers, though this didn’t surprise me as it looked very new. It was small and secluded, though surprisingly light. A family was sitting in one of the corners, and an old man was slowly dissecting a chicken breast next to them. The windows were high up in the wall, barring any view of the dreary inner city and only showing a patch of azure sky. The bright sunlight reflected off the waxed table tops, giving the whole building an air of summer. A fan was lazily turning above our heads, though it was hardly needed as the open windows allowed the summer breeze free access.

The whole place smelt of fresh summer air, new wood and grilling cheese. I could see why Rayne liked this place; I had to agree with her judgement: it was a nice place.

Eliza showed us to a small table in the corner of the room. It was right opposite one of the windows, meaning a patch of may sunlight was warming the cushions of the wooden seats, and as I slipped in one, it started warming my skin. Eliza handed me a menu and told Rayne to give her a shout if anybody needed anything while she got Rayne’s usual drink.

“What is this place?” I asked, looking around and realising I had no idea where we were or what this place was called.

“My friend Eliza’s sandwich bar. We’ve known each other for ages. She bought this place after she graduated and made a sandwich bar because there weren’t any good places to eat while she was a student. In about twenty minutes this will be packed with students.” Rayne predicted. “Her fiancé Robert makes the sandwiches, and he’s a rave cook.”

Eliza came back, handing Rayne a glass of a slushy brown liquid. “Cheers Jen.” Rayne murmured, holding her glass up to Eliza before chugging down the liquid. In the way Eliza watched in a horrid fascination I gathered that the mix in the drink wouldn’t have appealed to anyone else.

When Rayne put down her half empty glass, grimacing, Eliza turned to face me. “What can I get you darling?” she asked, casually glancing at Rayne when she said the last word, as if testing her.

“Em…” I ran my eyes down the list of fattening but tempting foods before closing the menu. “A glass of water and an apple would be fine.” I answered. The authenticity in Eliza’s smile vanished. She turned to glare at Rayne, who just shrugged.

“What?” she said, her voice filled with innocence.

“You know what.” Eliza answered, trying to keep her voice stern, though an involuntary smile pulled at her lips when Rayne protested, waving her arms around. “Whatever.” She murmured, trying to retain her dignity as she stomped off.

I smiled at Rayne, who answered my unasked question with “That’s Eliza for you.”

I liked this Rayne: she was different than the one is school, who swore all the time and did things behind people’s backs. I wondered what about this café made Rayne change, though my musings were interrupted by a question.

“What?” I said, realising it had been directed at me.

“Are you alright? You look kind of absent?” Somehow the word absent triggered the memory of the pill I was supposed to be swallowing around now.

I delved into my pocked for the pill while nodding to Rayne’s question. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

I looked around for Eliza and that glass of water nessiccary for swallowing my little pill. Happily it was just heading my way. “There ya go.” Eliza said, slamming down the drink in front of me and causing most of the substance to spill.

“Thanks.” I answered, ignoring the hostility in her gaze as she glared at me before stomping off. I placed the pill on my lips and chugged it down with some water, noticing Rayne’s gaze. I swallowed quickly. “What?”

“You looked so much like a drug addict there. Kind of hot.” She winked at me. I blushed a furious red and looked away. “What was that?” she persisted, ignoring my embarrassment.

“Oh. Just some paracetamol.” The lie had been so frequently told that it no longer weighed down my tongue when I told it. And the second I told it I knew that Rayne would never believe me. “I have a headache.” I tried to justify it.

She smirked, informing me in one facial gesture, she knew better. All she said was “Oh” which simply inspired some anxiousness in me. Did she know?

“What’s your real name?” I asked suddenly.

“Loraine Jessica Hatton-Smith. What made you think that Rayne wasn’t my full name?”

I shrugged. “It just didn’t match with any of the other names in your family.” Rayne raised her eyebrow. “I have my sources.” I supplied, grinning.

“Yeah, I am glad they shortened it though. Could you every imagine me as a Loraine?” We laughed, though I knew there was a lot of truth in those words. Rayne wasn’t a Loraine. The name just didn’t fit. It didn’t fit any of the sides of Rayne I had seen, or will ever see. “What about you?”

Rayne’s question cut through my musings. “Laura Catherine Campbell. My dad actually wanted to call me Virginia, but my mother protested until she got her way. My name’s all her input.” A small smile played on my lips. My name was really all my mother’s invention.

Rayne cocked her head to one side. “What’s your mother’s name?”

“Catherine Jane Scott-Campbell.”

“Yeah, that name is pretty much your mother.” Rayne grinned, and I smiled back, feeling very at ease.

I cast around for another subject of conversation in my head, trying to lead her away from the clues of my delicate condition (as my father had called it). “What’s your favourite game?” I blurted out, not knowing any other conversation topic.

Rayne didn’t even have the dignity to look surprised. “Hide and Seek.”

“Really?” I said, surprised. I was expecting the game to be something unusual.

“Yeah. It’s the first game I ever won at.” She admitted. “I was four. My sister and my mum were looking for me for ages. They never found me.”

“After someone died my Mum tried to explain it as a game of Hide and Seek where they were never found. They’d disappeared. Funnily enough, I thought that meant ultimate victory, so my goal until the age of about six was to die.” She smiled at me, but I couldn’t help but stare in disbelief. What a horrible euphemism for death, I thought.

When I didn’t answer Rayne elaborated. “See, I have a philosophy, all worked out. Life’s like Hide and Seek.”

I looked surprised. “How so?”

“Well basically sometimes we need to seek our luck, seek the next turn or path in our lives, seek our way. And then we find it, and we’ve won! We’re happy. And then it’s our turn to hide. We need to hide from the enemies we’ve made, our demons or even our nightmares. And then something either finds us and we’ve lost, or we’re well hidden and we win.”

I stared at Rayne. I mulled over her description of life. It was dark. She didn’t see any point of time in her life during which she wasn’t actively improving her life or hiding from her past.

“That’s a little dark.” I murmured.

She was about to reply when Eliza arrived placing a large plate in front of Rayne. “The place is starting to become busy. I want you out in ten minutes.” She snapped at Rayne, who simply shrugged and tucked in.

I looked around and realised that she was right; over the last ten minutes or so more and more people were filing in, keeping Eliza busy rushing between the tables and taking orders. A large queue was also starting to form behind the countrer where I gathered people would take sandwiches to go. I absently played with my apple before glancing back at Rayne.

She bit into what seemed to be a humongous, fat filled, bursting at the seams sandwich. I stared in disgust, though I tried not to let it show, at the cheese oozing out the other side of the sandwich and landing on the white plate.

“I love these things.” Rayne told me, swallowing her huge bite with difficulty. “Rob even named them after me.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Its called For A Rayney Day.” I snorted. “What!? I thought it was quite original.”

I grinned at Rayne. She smiled back before biting into her sandwhich. We sat in a comfortable silence while I drank my water and played with my apple, chucking it higher and higher and catching it again.

“Aren’t you going to eat that?” Rayne asked, wiping her oily fingers on her napkin, having eaten her sandwich.

“What?” I asked, looking around.

“Your apple.”

“Oh.” I chucked it in the air and caught it again. “Right.” Rayne waited expectantly for an answer as I passed the apple from hand to hand. “Yes. Later.” I told her, not looking her in the eyes, knowing my urge to blink would give me away.

“Right.” She looked sceptical, but didn’t comment as Eliza was approaching with alarming speed and a very angry face.

“What are you still doing here?” she asked, glaring at Rayne and me, and I realised there was small queue at the door, waiting to be seated.

“We’re leaving!” Rayne said in an exasperated voice. She pressed some money in Eliza hand. “Keep the change. I owe you anyway for Sunday.” She stated before clapping Eliza on the back and leading me out through the doors into the refreshing sunlight.

* * *

We reached the car still in silence, me still playing with my apple and Rayne texting someone, probably Lisa. When we reached the car she slid the phone into her pocket again, before grinning at me.

“I know you will kill me, but lunchtime’s over.” I glanced at the dashboard, which was completely blank as the engine wasn’t on. I turned to the key which Rayne had stuck in the ignition, only to be shocked by the fact she was right. Rayne and I didn’t just spend half an hour in a café! I hadn’t even itched with some form of anger or boredom.

“You’re right. I am going to kill you.” I snapped at Rayne. “I’m missing French.”

“And according to Lisa, Mme Heart hasn’t even missed you. You’re the best in the class, why should she?”

“because this is blemishing my attendance rate.” I growled between clenched teeth.

“Well, if it comforts you you’re still beating me.” Rayne said and I caught her grinning.

“Not funny!” I snapped.

“It will be even less funny when I tell you we’re not going straight back to school.” I could tell Rayne really was cracking up now, though she hid it well.

“Yes I am.” I answered firmly.

“Well, I’m driving, so no, you’re not.” Rayne answered, turning the key in the ignition and adjusting her rear view mirror which I had knocked in my attempt to see the time.

“Where are we going then?” I asked as Rayne artfully backed out of her parking spot.

“I’m not quite sure yet. But far from here.”

I stared at Rayne in disbelief. “You’re making me miss French, possibly English too, to go somewhere? You don’t even know where?” I snapped in disbelief.

Rayne grinned. “You need some more spontaneity Laura darling.” She said, gliding out of the park house.

“I have loads of that! But not when I am missing school breaking several dozen school rules!” I snapped, noticing she was taking the right turn, rather than the left one which would have taken us back to school. She was serious when she had said we really weren’t going back.

“You break loads of those without my help.” Rayne told me.

“I do?” I asked, my anger causing me to ball my hands into fists. “Name me some examples.”

“Well firstly, you take drugs.” I was about to protest, but she soldiered on, ignoring me. “And you’ve missed school without my help. And you don’t stick to the dress code. And you listened to your iPod during philosophy once.”

My glare melted as the surprised showed through my anger. “How d’you know any of that for sure?” I asked.

“Well, I saw you in that philosophy cover lesson, and then I just saw you take the ‘paracetomol’. I am not stupid you know.”

I snorted in disbelief, but Rayne decided to ignore it. When I didn’t say anything Rayne commented “You’re not such a good girl, are you sweetie?”

“I never said I was.” I answered. Suddenly Rayne jerked to a halt, in the middle of the road. The road was one of the small inner city ones, so there was no one behind. I checked around for the reason of the sudden stopping, but there was none.

“What the hell?!” I gasped, clamping my hand over my heart.

“Did you just admit you’re not a good girl?” Rayne asked.

“What?” I snapped. “You’re in the middle of the road Rayne!”

“Just answer the question Laura. You don’t think you’re a good girl. Yes or no?”

“Why is that so important?”

“Just answer the fucking question.”

“Yes.”

“So, not being a good girl, you don’t mind breaking rules.”

“What? That has nothing to do with the previous question!”

“Answer it.”

“No! I do mind breaking rules!” I snapped.

“Really?” Rayne said. A car was approaching behind us. Rayne would be forced to drive now.

She didn’t. The car stopped behind Rayne, and, like me, seeing no reason for her lack of movement, honked.

“Rayne.” I said, gesturing behind us.

“Yes, yes, I know. But that fucker can wait. Now getting back to my point: you’re not a good girl, but you dislike breaking rules.” Another honk. I was beginning to become panicky about the vehicle behind us. Rayne on the other hand carried on like there was no care in the world. “Without me you would’ve had a boring lunchtime during which you stabbed items of food with mediocre friends. Didn’t this fracture of rules bring some benefit?”

I hesitated before answering “Yes, but –”

“No buts. That’s all I needed to hear.” And she revved the engine and carried on driving.

After about a moments silence while the man in the car behind us made several rude gestures at Rayne while he drove past I decided to ask her. “What the hell was that for?”

“Spontaneity. And rule breaking.” Rayne answered, taking an unexpected turn and causing my apple to roll off my lap.

I bent down to pick it up, wondering exactly Rayne had in mind. She took another sharp turn when I resurfaced, causing me to bang my head against the dash board violently.

“Damn it Rayne!” I snapped, rubbing my forehead. “Can’t you be a tad more careful?”

She grinned. “Sorry. Quick decision there.” But she examined me for one second and then gestured to her own bruised face “but look! Now we match!”

I rolled my eyes and looked around. We seemed to have gone past the boundary of the city and were now in the rural urban fringe around it. A sign post pointing to a place named ‘Wellington Village’ was the only pointer of our real position though.

“Wellington Village?” I asked, wondering if that was our destination.

“I used to live there. We moved away when I was six.” Rayne said as an explanation. I was about to ask just why we were going there, but then we entered the village.

It was really a stunning village. Almost all of the houses were Victorian or Edwardian, with large gardens. Children were playing in the street, though they scattered when Rayne slowly approached. She stuck her head out of the window and waved.

“Rayne!” One of the boys yelled, obviously delighted to see her.

“Hey James!” Rayne called, waving, before speeding up again and driving on.

I wondered how Rayne had survived this completely non-urban town during her youth. She didn’t seem to fit in here. She looked like the odd one out, so easily plucked out of the ranks of those children and placed back into her urban environment with the grubby streets and shady cafés.

I sighed back into the leather seat, wondering whether Rayne’s spontaneous decision really was a place, or whether it was simply driving around. And then we stopped.

It was sudden, jerking me forward and causing my seatbelt to cut into my neck. “Dammit Rayne!” I snapped, touching my neck and seeing red moisture on my fingertips.

“Oops.” Was all she said before getting out of the car.

I got out to, pressing my hand against my neck as I felt the blood start to ooze down my neck and stain my T-shirt. Rayne was getting her bag out of the boot of the car, even though we were parked in front of a church and nowhere near our school. Unless she still lived here, which I doubted, I had no idea what she was on about.

“Do you want your bag?” she asked me, holding out my bag to me.

“What for?” I snapped, tearing the bag out of her hands.

“We’re revising.”

“Huh?”

“You know. Revision for the upcoming exams you so kindly explained to me.” Rayne elaborated, slamming the boot shut and handing me my school bag.

“Why don’t we just go to school then?” I asked, following her as she walked away from the church behind us.

“Because in English Mrs Green would be summarising the themes of Hamlet, which you and I already know. It’s a more effective use of my time to learn my maths now. You can help me.”

“I don’t do maths.”

“Doesn’t matter. You can just test me. and I’ll test your French.” She cast me a glance and I nodded, unsure what to say.

After a while however curiosity got the better of me and I asked “Where are we going?”

Rayne just smiled at me, heading towards a cul-de-sac at the end of the street. Three large houses faced us, each with a little gate leading to the house on one side, and another gate leading to an alley, probably around the house, on the other side.

She took a key out of her bag and unlocked one of the gates to one of the alleys. She pushed me in behind her and closed the gate. The alley itself was very narrow, with brick walls stopping people actually seeing the ground floor of the house.

“Are you meant to have that key?” I asked, eyeing her suspiciously as she locked the gate again.

“Nope.” Rayne said before trying to edge past me.

There were bins behind me, leaving us a very small alley way to edge through. The alley was too narrow for her to pass me without grinding her body against mine. She was pleasantly warm, and suddenly my fingers tingled with a desire to touch, feel. I looked away, trying to hide my blush as her hip pressed against mine.

Rayne seemed to know exactly what was going on in my head because she smirked at me, lingering a little longer than need be. And then she continued walking down the alleyway, leaving me speechless.

I quickly pushed myself away from the brick wall and followed Rayne. The brick was ended abruptly, with a gate to the left, which Rayne ignored. She vaulted over the six foot wall easily.

“How do you expect me to do that?” I asked, slightly annoyed.

“By using those muscles.” Rayne’s voice was muffled by the brick, but I was relieved to hear she wasn’t walking away. I stared at the wall for a bit. It was to high for me to see over, but I could reach the edge if I reached. I grabbed onto the brick and tried to hoist myself up, but there wasn’t enough grip.

I tried again and again, desperately trying to overcome the wall, get through, though it didn’t let me. I fell again and again, but I didn’t give up until I fell on an odd angle on my arm.

I cut it along the brick wall, and now it was throbbing and bleeding. I desperately tried to stop myself crying; who cries about not being able to climb over a brick wall, especially in front of Rayne? Yet the tears still rolled down my cheek, and I slumped down against the wall.

“Laura?” Rayne asked from the other side of the wall, but I ignored her. And suddenly she jumped down next to me. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, fine” I said, thickly trying to make my voice sound annoyed at the question, but it only came out desperate. Rayne sat down next to me, and I could hear she had no idea why I was crying in the sigh she gave out.

“Come on Laura. Tell me what’s wrong!” she murmured. I looked up, all too aware that my makeup was all over my face, there was blood dripping down my neck and arm, and that Rayne’s knee was pressing into my thigh.

“I can’t climb over that wall.” I sniffed. She waited for an elaboration, though none came. That was the truth. I had failed in her attempt to climb over that wall. There was nothing more to it. I had failed.

But Rayne seemed to understand. She just nodded. “Failure isn’t bad though.” She murmured after a moment of silence.

“How so?” I asked.

“Well, failure to conform makes you different.” Rayne murmured, her voice husky all of a sudden, seemingly remembering something. I cocked my head to one side, wondering what was troubling her. But she didn’t elaborate.

I don’t know how long we sat at the end of the alleyway in silence, each of us in our thoughts.

Rayne smelt like smoke and peppermint, though both smells were subtle. Her breathing was regular, almost as if she’d gone to sleep, expect that her eyes were open.

The air around us tasted like her. Like she came her often and left her scent over the dreary brick walls and hanging, like a cloud, around us. I felt almost drugged by her closeness, though it wasn’t unpleasant. It was simply like where she touched me my senses were on hyper alert, and there were only the air brushed my body, the senses were dimmer, concentrating on Rayne.

“Do you want to come to Church on Sunday?” That wasn’t me speaking. It was the part of me which enjoyed her burning proximity which asked her, and the sensible side of me was too drugged to resist.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Rayne murmured in response, her face tilted against the brick wall to catch the rays of sunlight.

And we carried on sitting there in silence.

“Let’s go.” Rayne got up abruptly, and I missed the heat of her knee quickly.

“Fine.” I murmured, though I didn’t move. Rayne smiled down at me.

“Come on. You look a right mess.” Rayne offered me a hand. She pulled me up, but didn’t back away, meaning once again we were standing very close together. I wanted to step away, let go of Rayne’s hand, but the wall was beside me. I breathed in sharply, breathing in her smell of smoke and sweat. And I breathed out as she stepped back, walking down the alley again.

* * *

“Dammit!” I groaned when I caught sight of the time on the dashboard. “My dad’s gonna kill me.”

According to the time school had finished over half an hour ago and I should be at home, starting dinner. I quickly pulled my mobile out of my bag, and sure enough there were several messages from my father, demanding to know where I was.

“Do you want me to drop you off at your house?” Rayne offered. I nodded.

“That would be great.”

“Ok. I just need to swing by school and pick up Lisa.”

“Can’t you do that afterwards?” I asked. Judging by the messages on my phone, my father was getting very angry.

A smile pulled at Rayne’s lips. “Your wish is my command.” And she floored the accelerator, rushing the car towards the city, away from the suburban area.

We reached the almost deserted car park of the church with in twenty minutes. I had instructed Rayne to park here, rather than allow my father to ask question.

“I’ll see you in Politics tomorrow.” Rayne murmured, brushing a strand of hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear. A thrill travelled up my spine, and for a second I was paralysed. I regained all feeling when Rayne pulled her hand back and smiled at me. I smiled back at Rayne and jumped out of the car, hoping no one had seen.

* * *

Dinner was a tumultuous affair: Andrea had called my father as she thought I had gone home ill, but when it turned out I hadn’t, my father was everything but pleased. When I came home late he became even angrier.

My greeting when I came through the door was: “Come and sit down Laura. You have a lot of explaining to do.”

My father and Catherine were already enjoying their dinner when I came through the door, leaving my bag at the stairs. By the way my father glared at me and Catherine was trying to hide a smile, I knew that both had found out about my absence from school.

“Hey Dad?” I attempted.

“Laura Catherine Campbell, could you please explain your absence from school for me?” He said, his voice rising in volume.

“Theo.” Catherine warned, touching my father’s arm.

“No, no. This really is unacceptable behaviour. I mean do you take your education for granted? I have had to deal with too many under priviledged children with my missionary work to allow my daughter to take anything for granted! I hope I have tought you better than that!”

“You have.” I murmured, ashamed.

“I mean your exams are so close! Are you taking such a careless attitude to the exams which determine whether or not you can go to the universities of your choice? Are you willing to put your future on the line just to have some fun!”

“No!” I murmured, ducking my head in shame.

“I mean, skiving Laura! It’s so unlike you! I am really disappointed.” My father’s angry flare was gone, replaced by disappointment.

And suddenly it slipped out. I was desperately trying to justify the crime I had, in the eyes of my father, committed. “I was with Rayne.”

“Who?”

“Rayne Hatton-Smith.” And I could see Catherine shake her head. Now he would remember and become angry again. We had almost won.

“The drug addict? Why were you with her? Are you taking drugs Laura?”

“No Dad.” I said, looking him in the eye so he knew I was being honest. “I am not taking drugs. I was with Rayne because she wanted to repay me for helping her out the other day so she took me to lunch.”

“Lunch? I thought she was some trouble maker?”

“That’s what I thought too. But it turns out there’s this whole different side of her. A side I like.” I smiled

“Now wait a minute. I don’t want you hanging out with her anymore!” My father snapped, seeing my smile.

“Why?” I asked, perplexed.

“She’s a bad influence. I don’t want my little Laura corrupted.” Catherine, who had be silent throughout the discussion so far snorted.

“Get off her case Theo!” she exclaimed. “It’s not like she has a crush on the girl!”

I blushed, remembering the heat of Rayne’s body and the scent of her breath. I pushed those thoughts out of my mind and nodded at my father. “Catherine’s right Dad. Cut me some slack!”

* * *

“Come on, it’s time for bed now!” I said, clapping my hands.

“No!” Connor groaned. “One more game!”

“We’ve already had ‘one more game’ Con-Con!” I laughed as he tried his cute pout on me, but it didn’t work. I waved him upwards and he got up from the floor and tramped up the stairs. I was right on his heels.

He jumped on his bed and dove under his covers. “Have you brushed your teeth yet Connor?”

“No.” he mumbled, getting out of bed again and entering his bathroom. I sat down on the toilet and watched him elaborately smear his toothbrush with toothpaste and then set his sand clock when he started brushing his teeth.

Once he finished he ran back towards his bed and delved under the covers. “Tell me a story!” He commanded as I re-entered the room, turning off the bathroom lights.

“Do you want to hear about Jesus?” I asked.

“The man who loved everybody?” He shook his head. “It doesn’t work. He wasn’t real.” His voice was certain. I sat down in the gap between his and his brother’s bed (Caspar was at a sleepover), looking up at him.

“Why doesn’t that work?” I asked.

“My mummy said its impossible! Anyway, how do you know you love someone?”

I stared at Connor in surprise. That was quite a sophisticated question for a six year old. “Well, your mummy knows she loves your daddy.” I said feebly, not quite sure what to give as an answer.

“What if you’ve never loved before? How would you know then?” He perscisted.

“You’d just feel it. You would want to spend all the time in the world with someone. I don’t know…” Connor grinned.

“Have you ever loved someone?” I shook my head.

“My heart belongs to me.” I said, clasping my hand on my heart.

“Can I have it?” Connor said, eagerly prising my hand off my chest as if expecting to see a heart tattooed my skin.

“No.”

“I’ll give you mine!” he bargained, but I just shook my head.

“You want to keep your heart until you meet someone special, but at the moment you need to go asleep!”

“I don’t wanna!” Connor sulked.

“You’re tired.” I stated.

He pouted. “I am not!”

I grinned. “”You will be!” I kissed his forehead before walking to the door and turning off the light.

“Hey!” his voice complained through the darkness. “You never told me a story!”

“You know them all. Now try and go to sleep.” I whispered. His voice automatically lowered too.

“One tiny story?”

“No.”

He huffed as I closed the door, but I knew he would have forgotten it by tomorrow and be begging to see me again.

As I walked downstairs the reasons I had refused to tell him a story resurfaced. How did you know when you loved someone? How did I know I wasn’t in love right now? I shivered, though the house was well heated.

I headed towards the only light, that radiated from the kitchen, and quickly cleaned up the games we had played which littered the kitchen floor. My laptop shone light on the surroundings as the sky steadily lost colour.

As I finished the sky was dark, and I could only see outlines of the furniture of the kitchen, scarcely illuminated by the light from my laptop. I walked out on the balcony and surveyed the darkness around me.

I loved the darkness. Especially when it was complete. The house was set back from the road, and hidden by two high, dense hedges which made it almost impossible from the light from the street to reach me. Everything around me was dark, which reminded me of my childhood in Mongolia, before we had come to England.

I had been annoyed by the fact that even if I turned all the lights in the house off, light would still pour through the window. Even if I unplugged the telephone, people could reach my father over his email, his mobile and his blackberry. Even if I was alone in the woods, people could still call me with my mobile. Disappearing and hiding were impossible and loneliness an object of the past.

Whenever I returned home late, I wouldn’t turn on a light. I would walk up in the stairs in the semi darkness; my hands feeling for the objects I knew were there. The order made it easy for me to walk around blind.

The darkness here was different. I didn’t know where everything was, so it was more exciting, different. It tasted different, it felt different. And although I didn’t love the difference, I didn’t resent it either.

I inhaled deeply, watching the trees move against the outline of the sky, watching the breeze tickle my skin and give me goose bumps. I remembered that the last time I’d had goosebumps.

I bit my lip. The thrill I had felt when Rayne had brushed my hair back had given me goosebumps. Did I like her? I remembered what Catherine had said: “Get off her case Theo. It’s not like she has a crush on the girl!”. I dearly hoped Catherine was right: I didn’t have a crush on Rayne. And then I remembered her hot breath, her warm knees and her smirk and my certainty wavered.

What if I did really like Rayne?

I had even invited her to church. That had been so stupid of me I realised, biting my lip even harder. What if she made me blush again, make me feel embarrassed next to her? What If I felt the same I had felt this afternoon?

* * *

I panted as I entered the church, being one of the last to enter it again. I closed the door while everybody sat down, having finished their first hymn. I then quickly slipped into one of the pews, avoiding curious glances the congregation gave me for my lateness.

I looked around the church, glancing over heads, yet I could find no auburn hair long enough to be Rayne’s. Even though I had tried to tell myself all night that Rayne wouldn’t come, I had still allowed myself to hope

“Looking for me?” her voice as a quiet whisper, yet the proximity made me jump. She was sitting on the other end of the pew, in the shadows, explaining why I hadn’t seen her.

“No.” I answer automatically, receiving several glares from old ladies sitting in front of me for the volume of my voice. I slid down the pew until I was next to Rayne. She was wearing some skinny jeans over a top which depicted bleeding roses.

“Why not? You invited me to this party?” she questioned, raising her eyebrows at me. I motioned for her to keep her voice down.

“Shhh. We’re meant to be listening to my father. Anyway, this isn’t a party!” I corrected her.

“Right.” She became silent. I glanced at her, but she seemed to really be listening to my father.

I found it hard to concentrate with Rayne sitting so close to me. I was painfully aware of her body heat, her knee pressing against mine. I felt like my knee was burning, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t done to her body heat.

I shifted uncomfortably, fidgeting. I didn’t like her heat, yet I didn’t want to move away either. After enduring fifteen minutes of my fidgeting Rayne shot me a glance of distain: “What’s wrong?” she snapped in a low voice.

“Nothing.” I answered.

“So keep still.” She gripped my arm in her iron grasp, her cold fingers burning through my flesh. Goose bumps formed on my arm. I tried desperately to ignore my arm in her grasp, to listen to my father’s wise words, but the truth was I had no idea what he was discussing or how long I’d been sitting there.

Rayne started to draw circles in my arm with her thumb. I stiffened at the familiar gesture, and I was sure she noticed. She didn’t stop however, so I allowed her to carry on, enjoying the attention too much to protest.

There was a shuffle in the row in front of me, and I looked up surprised to find the people heading for communion. I suddenly realised how little I wanted to get up. If I got up I wouldn’t sit down exactly like this again, and Rayne wouldn’t continue drawing flaming circles in to my skin.

I didn’t move. I just sat there, knowing my father would notice my absence from the Eucharist and question me about it. I would have to come up with a good excuse as to why Rayne was more important than Christ’s blood and body.

“Aren’t you going to get some bread and wine?” Rayne whispered. I cursed her for knowing the liturgy. How was I going to explain enjoying this to her?

“No.” I answered, before miming zipping my lips and throwing the key over my shoulder. Rayne got the message of silence and laughed, her eyes re-focusing on the altar where my father was giving the last few people Holy Communion.

However much I tried to concentrate on the Altar, my eyes always flitted back to Rayne: my arm in her hands, and her hands leaving trails of fire wherever they touched and the sly smile whenever she caught me looking at her. That knowing smirk, telling me she knew everything that was going on in my head.

Which I hoped she didn’t.