Trust Me Read online

  Teegan’s words shocked me. They shouldn’t have, but they did. Recently it’d felt like Andrew and me against the whole world, and it wasn’t the romantic feeling some songs try to convince you that it is.

  ‘Teegan, get lost.’

  ‘Won’t, won’t, won’t.’

  ‘Fine. Right. Stay here, then. I’ll go out, and as far away from you and this house as I can get.’

  Standing up, I pulled my black leather jacket out of the wardrobe. First, a glance in the dressing-table mirror to smooth down my hair. A glance was all I ever did when it came to looking at myself in the mirror. I had Sasquatch feet, what I liked to call a Rubenesque figure, and a face that only just made it to the right side of reasonable. I had good eyes, though, or so I’d been told by my closest girlfriend Diane and a couple of unoriginal boys trying it on. My eyes were almond-shaped and big, the irises so dark brown as to appear black. And I didn’t have one filling in my mouth. I was proud of that.

  When I was in Year Nine, Gavin Skelly had told me that when I smiled it looked like I had a full set of at least three people’s teeth crammed into my mouth. For at least a year after that, every time I’d laughed, I’d lowered my head or covered my mouth with my hand. Until one day, I’d had enough of hiding. I said to myself, ‘Jayna, are you really going to let a dork like Gavin Skelly change your life for you?’ The answer had been a resounding no! It had taken over a year to cure myself of hiding my mouth when I laughed, but I’d done it.

  One final check to make sure that I had no food caught between my teeth, and I was ready to leave. Then I saw Teegan’s face reflected in the mirror. She was watching me, her lips turned down, her expression miserable. But when I turned round, she merely looked petulant. Frowning, I wondered if I’d imagined the look on her face. I didn’t think so.

  ‘Look, squirt, I’m sorry I’m not going on holiday with you. I’m going to miss you and Mum, honest I am.’

  ‘I didn’t mean it about hating Andrew,’ Teegan muttered at last.

  ‘I know. Tell you what, I’ll help you with your school project when I get back. OK?’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘None of your business, nosy ratbag.’ I pushed past her and down the stairs.

  Teegan followed behind me. ‘Mum . . . Mum! Jayna is going out!’

  I turned to glare at my sister. It was just that kind of stunt which made me want to throttle her.

  Mum emerged from the living room as if jet-propelled, her blue pleated skirt swirling around her calves. Holding a newspaper in one hand, she pushed her glasses further up towards the bridge of her nose with the other. ‘Where are you going, Jayna?’

  ‘Out.’

  ‘Out where?’

  ‘Just out.’

  ‘Jayna . . .’

  I took a deep breath. Then I spoke slowly and clearly. ‘I don’t know where I’m going yet. I just thought I’d go for a walk. Any objections?’

  ‘Good riddance,’ Teegan piped up behind me.

  Mum shook her head at me before going back into the living room. I stared after her. I felt like I’d been dismissed. Furious, I slammed out of the house. Once my feet hit the garden path, I started to run. I wanted to get as far away as possible. I ran up the road and kept running, not sure where I was going.

  All this just because Mum didn’t like my boyfriend. But why didn’t she like Andrew? I wasn’t asking her to adopt him. All she had to do was give him a chance. She didn’t know him, as I kept telling her, but that didn’t matter because she didn’t want to know him. And with this holiday business she’d probably dislike him even more now.

  I ran and ran until a stitch in my side brought me skidding to a halt. Bending over, I gasped for breath. I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t get Mum’s hurt expression out of my mind.

  Over the last few months, I’d been totally mean to Mum. What had Teegan called me? ‘Really horrible’? Well, she was right. I knew it. And I knew why. Because Andrew’s parents were exactly the same as Mum. They didn’t really know me but that made no difference. They didn’t like me.

  I remembered the first time I’d gone round to Andrew’s house. He obviously hadn’t thought it at all necessary to tell his family that I was black, but he should have done as they’d all gawped at me, their mouths open like drowning fish.

  Morgan had turned to his brother and said, ‘Andrew, you must be joking.’

  Mrs Harrison had been too shocked to say a word. I’d thought she was about to hit the deck for sure. At least Mr Harrison had tried. He’d smiled weakly and shaken my hand and said, ‘Welcome!’

  I’d felt about as welcome as a slice of beef on a vegan’s dinner plate.

  Since then, Mrs Harrison and I had barely exchanged three sentences at any one time. Around me, Andrew’s mum walked like she had a permanent pong under the nose, her head tilted so far back that I was tempted to walk around with a can of aerosol air-freshener just so I could squirt the whole lot up her nostrils.

  Andrew just laughed about it. I did too, but inside, deep inside, there was a place where laughter didn’t reach. I told myself that I shouldn’t care – after all, I was going out with Andrew, not his parents – but it didn’t help. And as for Andrew’s toxic brother Morgan . . . Just saying his name left a sour taste in my mouth. In fact, the less said about him the better.

  So I guess that’s why I was mean to Mum. Because she’d behaved almost the same way when she met Andrew, and I’d really thought my mum would have known better, should have known better. What was it with the Jurassic generation and their prehistoric snobbery?

  I straightened up and sighed as my stitch finally faded. All that running had left me hot and sticky. August was turning out to be hotter than July. I looked up at the clear sky. At least the sun was beginning to set now; the evening had to get cooler and I stood still, admiring the burning pinks and oranges of the sunset for a few moments. Then I remembered where I was. Feeling like a complete lemon, I looked quickly up and down the street. Luckily no one was watching. I glanced down at my watch. A quarter past eight. I didn’t want to go home yet, but where could I go? Being on my own didn’t appeal at all. Andrew. I’d go to see Andrew.

  But Andrew’s mother . . .

  She was pretty daunting, but at that moment I needed to see Andrew badly. Maybe we could go and see a film, or get something to eat. Somewhere where we could be alone. Andrew always made me laugh and, just lately, it felt as if I was beginning to forget how. I was so tired of quarrels with Mum and my sister, quarrels that left a bitter taste in my mouth even after I’d forgotten what they were about in the first place. Mum, Teegan and I had always been close, but that was all changing and I didn’t know how to stop it.

  Andrew . . .

  Andrew would cheer me up. As for Mrs Harrison, I’d just have to bite my lip, hold onto my temper and put up with her. My mind made up, I set off.

  3

  ‘MUM HATES THE idea of us going on holiday together,’ I said, sitting on Andrew’s bed. With my index finger I traced the moss-green spirals and swirls on his duvet cover. Beyond Andrew’s open window the sunset had turned the sky assorted glorious colours. It was so beautiful and I began to relax properly for the first time that evening.

  ‘Does that mean you’re not coming?’ Andrew said seriously.

  ‘No. It’s my life, not my mum’s.’ I shrugged, then smiled. ‘Maybe she thinks you’ll abandon me somewhere in the back of beyond for some blonde bimbette with big boobs.’

  ‘Never. You’re my one and only bimbette! Besides, your boobs are more than acceptable,’ Andrew teased.

  ‘That’s because I’m wearing my cowboy bra.’

  ‘Your what?’

  ‘My cowboy bra. It rounds them up, herds them together . . .’

  ‘And moves them out? Jayna, that’s terrible!’

  ‘I know.’ I grinned. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You’re welcome. I mean it, though, you’re all I’ve got – all that’s worth having, at any rate.’
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br />   ‘What about your brother Morgan?’ I tried to keep a straight face but failed miserably. We fell about, laughing.

  I love it when Andrew laughs. He laughs with his whole face, not just his eyes. He’s very Celtic-looking. Jade-green irises with specks of brown, and coal-black hair. Good teeth too! I smiled at him, then lowered my gaze, afraid I was drooling.

  ‘So have your parents got used to the idea?’ I asked, my smile fading.

  Andrew’s pause before answering was just a tad too long. ‘Dad thinks we’re responsible people so he doesn’t mind so much. Mum . . . Well, it doesn’t matter what either of them thinks really,’ he finished lamely.

  ‘Our mums aren’t making this very easy for us,’ I sighed.

  ‘That’s up to them. We’re off on holiday this weekend and there’s nothing your mum or my parents can say to stop us.’

  ‘Are you sure about that?’

  ‘Positive.’ He looked at me and I looked down at the duvet, still tracing the patterns with my finger. We sat in silence. I had something on my mind that was taking its time getting to my mouth. At last it arrived.

  ‘Andrew, I . . . I’m really nervous about our holiday. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.’

  ‘Jayna . . .’

  ‘No, let me finish.’ I had to get this out into the open. ‘Andrew, you know how I feel about you and you already know that I’ve . . . well, I’ve never . . . been with anyone before, but . . .’

  ‘But you’re nervous.’ Andrew put his hand under my chin and raised my head. ‘And getting grief from your mum, and then there are my parents, and you’re wondering if maybe we aren’t rushing things a bit.’

  ‘What makes you so smart?’ I sighed with relief.

  ‘Burgers, milkshakes, all kinds of junk food! That and . . . caring about you. Jayna, I want to go on holiday with you, be alone with you. I want to . . . well, make it with you.’ Two spots of colour appeared on his cheeks. ‘But if you decide you’re not ready, then I can wait.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said firmly. ‘Just as long as we still go on holiday. I think we both need a break.’

  ‘So you still want us to go away together?’

  ‘Of course. Don’t you?’

  I nodded and looked down again. ‘Andrew . . .’ I wasn’t sure how to continue. ‘Andrew, why are you . . . going out with me?’ My face started to burn as soon as the words were out. My fingers were even busier over the duvet cover than before. The room went suddenly very quiet. ‘No, never mind. It doesn’t matter,’ I said quickly.

  ‘Doesn’t it?’

  I glanced at him.

  ‘Doesn’t it?’ He prompted again when I didn’t answer. ‘Jayna, I’m going out with you because I care about you. You know that.’

  ‘You didn’t . . . care about me when we first started going out.’

  ‘No, but I liked you – a lot. You’re intelligent . . .’

  ‘A Mastermind contestant.’

  ‘You make me laugh . . .’

  ‘I can’t help the way I look.’

  ‘Beautiful . . .’

  ‘Especially from behind.’

  ‘You’re the only one who listens to me . . .’

  ‘The list is endless.’

  ‘And you never take anything seriously,’ Andrew said, exasperated.

  ‘I can’t take that load of twaddle seriously,’ I scoffed.

  ‘Then what will you believe?’ Andrew asked.

  ‘Your answer to my next question.’ I looked down again. I was getting to know that duvet cover really well. ‘I’m not . . .’ I couldn’t think of how to frame the question. Spit it out, Jayna, I thought to myself. ‘Andrew, I’m not just an . . . experiment, am I?’ I hated to ask but I’d heard my aunt ask my mum that exact same question. I glanced up. Andrew’s smile had vanished.

  ‘Who told you that? My brother?’

  ‘Morgan has nothing to do with this,’ I replied.

  ‘Who, then? My mum? Your mum?’

  I shook my head. ‘Just someone. Does it matter?’

  ‘Yes, it does. I’m fed up to the back teeth with everyone sticking their nose into my business and telling me how to run my life.’

  ‘You still haven’t answered my question.’

  Andrew’s face grew redder as I watched. His whole body was taut. He was about to blow a fuse.

  ‘Calm down. I only wondered,’ I said hastily. ‘Look, forget I said anything . . .’

  ‘Of course you’re not an experiment.’ Andrew’s voice was lower and deeper than usual. He was really angry. ‘What the hell does that even mean?’

  ‘Yeah, I had trouble figuring it out too.’ I shrugged.

  ‘But you thought I would know?’

  ‘Andy, I never said that.’

  ‘And after all these months of going out together, I’m surprised you even had to ask. I thought you had more sense.’

  Whoa! Now it was my turn to glare. OK, he was annoyed, I got that. But damn!

  ‘Andrew, I know you’re angry, but don’t get the hump with me. I never said it.’

  It took a few moments for my words to sink in. ‘Sorry!’ he mumbled at last.

  ‘Ouch! I bet that hurt.’ I smiled. Saying sorry wasn’t one of Andrew’s strong points!

  ‘You’ll never know how much.’ We both started laughing again.

  ‘Andrew, would you and your friend like something to eat?’ Andrew’s mum thrust open the door and then knocked. I know exactly what she hoped to catch us doing!

  ‘Jayna, are you hungry?’ Andrew asked.

  I shook my head.

  ‘Well, if you’re sure, Andrew,’ Mrs Harrison said in her cut-glass voice. She did a quick look around the room before leaving reluctantly. I stared at the door, fighting – and failing – to keep the frown off my face.

  ‘Why does your mother never ask me any questions directly?’

  ‘She does,’ Andrew said, surprised.

  ‘Bull jobbies! Your mother doesn’t even look at me.’

  ‘Don’t talk wet!’ he laughed.

  ‘I’m not. Your mum is not very subtle, is she?’

  ‘She’s more subtle than your mum.’

  I frowned. ‘Just what does that mean?’

  ‘Nothing. Never mind. Can we drop the subject?’

  ‘No! We cannot drop the subject.’ I scowled.

  ‘Look, Jayna, I don’t want to argue with you.’

  ‘You never do,’ I snapped. Sometimes I wondered if Andrew’s motto wasn’t ‘Anything for a quiet life’.

  ‘And what does that mean!’ His voice went quiet.

  ‘Never mind . . .’

  Silence.

  ‘Oh God! We’re not turning into our parents, are we?’ Andrew said, appalled.

  We both creased up at that when, once again, the bedroom door flew open.

  ‘Andrew, are you sure there’s nothing I can get you?’ said his mum.

  ‘You asked us that about two seconds ago.’ He frowned.

  ‘Did I?’ Mrs Harrison’s smile was applied a little too brightly. ‘I’m sorry, darling, but if I don’t pester you to eat you’d forget to do so.’

  ‘For God’s sake, Mum, don’t fuss.’

  Mrs Harrison fixed her son with an unblinking stare and a painted-on smile. I glared at her, willing her to turn her head and look at me, acknowledge my presence. Just a quick glance would do. She turned with a forced laugh and left the room.

  ‘Why is it whenever I come to your house, I feel like I’m either a ghost or I’m having an out-of-body experience? You seem to be the only one in your family who can see me,’ I fumed.

  Andrew sighed. I opened my mouth to have a good rant but Andrew kissed me – mainly to shut me up, I reckon, but a kiss is still a kiss.

  I put my arms round his neck and kissed him back. If anyone had told me a couple of years ago that I’d be kissing spotty, snotty Andrew Harrison whom I’d known since junior school, I would have laughed in their face – either that or upchu
cked in it! Andrew Harrison, who turned lobster-red in the weakest sunshine and who used to be so wet that you had to swim around him. But here I was, not only kissing him but enjoying it. Until the bedroom door flew open for the third time.

  Andrew and I sprang apart.

  ‘Andrew dear, your Aunt Heather is on the phone. She wants to speak to you.’

  That did it! ‘I’m going now, Andrew,’ I said, standing up.

  I was probably playing straight into Mrs Harrison’s hands – leaving her house as she intended – but I’d had enough. If I gave in now to the spite I felt, I would’ve sat on Andrew’s bed and not moved until well after midnight.

  ‘Jayna, don’t go.’ Andrew sprang off the bed and put his hands on my shoulders.

  ‘I’ve got to,’ I replied, adding for his ears only, ‘I promised Pete I’d meet him at the Burger Bar.’

  Actually my friend Diane had told me that a whole group of my classmates were heading down there for a meal after going to the local multiplex. But Andrew didn’t have to know that.

  ‘Why’re you meeting Pete?’ Andrew was furious. I loved it when he got jealous. And he always did!

  ‘Andrew, Aunt Heather is on the phone,’ his mum reminded him. ‘She wants to speak to you.’

  ‘Sod Aunt Heather!’

  ‘Andrew!’ Mrs Harrison was shocked. Andrew liked his Aunt Heather and wouldn’t normally have been so rude about her but his mum was seriously provoking him. Anyone with gravel for brains could see that.

  I took a quick glance in her direction. Now her eyes were on me, her stare accusatory.

  Don’t look at me, I thought sourly. Your son said it, not me. But from her look I could tell that she thought it was my fault. Not only did I lower the tone of her household, but also of her son’s manners. I picked up my jacket from where it had been flung over the bedroom chair.

  ‘Andrew, I’ll see you tomorrow, OK?’ I said quietly.

  ‘Jayna, wait.’ Andrew grabbed my hand before I could leave the room.

  ‘Andrew . . .’ said Mrs Harrison. ‘Your aunt—’

  ‘Hang on a minute, Mum,’ Andrew said angrily. ‘Just wait here, Jayna. Please. Two minutes. Just until I get rid of my aunt. Please.’

  Pause.

  ‘Oh, all right, then.’ Why was it that all Andrew had to do was say please and I’d give in and crumble like a stale ginger biscuit? I’m too soft, I thought with a sigh.