Sorry about the lack of update last week, all is back to normal now though, I’ve had a marathon writing session this weekend and now have chapters coming out of my ears!

 

Chapter 18

 

“So how are you finding the exam preparation?”

 

“OK,” I replied, shuffling nervously in my seat, “not looking forward to June much though.”

 

I took another careful gulp of my tea and placed it carefully back on the table, my hand shaking a little and making the china rattle.

 

This was ridiculous! I had known Simon’s Mum for years, she had always been around when we were kids, she’d bring a huge tray of lemonade out to us when we were hot and sweaty from playing on our bikes, she had cleaned my knee when I’d fallen over more times than I could remember and had given me a lollipop the day that Simon and I had fallen out over a silly game of Kerplunk. Yet suddenly I felt nervous around her, entering her house as Simon’s girlfriend for the very first time had turned me into this trembling wreck of nerves.

 

“How’s work?” I managed to splutter out, trying so hard to have some kind of normal conversation.

 

I pretended to listen as she replied, but instead my mind was wandering.  How could Simon sit next to me grinning so much – could he not see what a fool I was making of myself?

 

“I always knew you two would get together,” she continued, “it was like one of those childhood romances that was destined to be.”

 

“Mum, we weren’t together as children, we were just friends,” Simon replied, glowing pink with embarrassment.

 

“Ah yes, I remember Kim was more interested in Ben wasn’t she?”

 

Simon’s mum smiled at the memory whilst my stomach was filling up with tight little knots of horror

 

“I still remember,” she continued, “Simon coming home in floods of tears about that.”

 

“What do you mean?” I asked, I had never heard this story before.  But before I had the chance to prod further Simon had stood up, dragging me up next to him.

 

“Is it OK if I take Kim upstairs Mum?”

 

“Fine by me.”

 

We made our way upstairs and into his room.

 

“I like your Mum,” I told him suddenly.

 

“You’ve known her for years you daft thing,” Simon replied, taking my bag out of my hand and putting it on a chair in the corner.

 

“What did she mean earlier?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

 

“What do you mean?” Simon asked, sitting on the bed and patting the space next to him, urging me to sit down.

 

“When she said about you crying.”

 

“When?”

 

“When you were a kid, something about Ben.”

 

He looked awkward for a moment, so I went and sat down next to him, gently placing my hand on his arm.

 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I told him gently.

 

“Its no big deal really,” he began to explain, “I mean I was only young.”

 

“Why were you crying?”

 

“Because I fancied you,” he explained, “but you were into Ben.”

 

I looked at him in shock.  I had never realised, in all the years that I had known Simon, I had never realised that his feeling for me routed from way back – a long time before I had begun to realise that I liked him.

 

“But we were friends,” I finally said, “we never felt like that for each other.”

 

“Well I did.”

 

I felt ashamed, ashamed that I hadn’t noticed him when he was right under my nose, and ashamed for making him cry.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“It doesn’t matter, it’s all in the past, and I have you now.”

 

“Yes you do,” I replied, proving my point by snuggling up closer to him.

 

“I hoped I’d have you one day,” he explained, “you were the first girl I ever liked.”

 

“Why did you wait so long?”

 

“Wanted to make sure you were over Ben,” he said simply.

 

“I was over Ben a long long time ago,” I replied firmly.

 

“Sometimes I wasn’t so sure, there were times when I thought you were ready for me, but then I’d see you looking at him.”

 

“Yeah, with hatred,” I explained.

 

“It always seemed something more than that though.”

 

“Well you know that’s not true now don’t you?” I asked him.

 

“Yes, because you are here aren’t you?”

 

“Yes,” I replied a little sadly.  If only he knew what I had done only a few days earlier, it would break his heart it really would. 

 

“Kim,” he said quietly.

 

I looked up at him.

 

“If I tell you something do you promise not to freak out?”

 

“OK”

He reached for me and gave me a small gentle kiss on the lips.

 

“I love you”

 

My world stopped, it was rather like someone above us had activated a freeze gun, except this wasn’t a Batman film and now he was waiting for me to say something in reply.  But I couldn’t – all I could do was sit there quietly looking at him, mouth hanging open, eyes wide with shock.

 

I was screaming to myself to return the words, they were just three little words, words that were supposed to make you feel happy, so why couldn’t I say them to him?  He was waiting for it I could tell, he was looking straight at me, smiling gently, almost like he was encouraging me to say the same.

 

Eventually I found my tongue.

 

“Thank you.”

 

It wasn’t quite what he had been expecting but it was better than nothing.  He looked a little shocked to start with but then he smiled.

 

“Not a problem, that’s the first time I’ve ever said that to anyone,” he admitted.

 

“Well thank you for saying it to me, it means a lot.” I replied, looking down at the duvet.

 

“You were the first girl I kissed as well,” he continued.

 

I smiled at him.

 

He was so cute, all vulnerable and sweet sitting on the bed looking at me like I meant the world to him.

 

“I want you to be my first everything,” he continued.

 

“Oh!” I replied, suddenly understanding what he meant.

 

“Have you erm …” he looked down awkwardly, fiddling with a bit of cotton on his jeans, “have you ever done it before.”

 

Now it was my turn to be embarrassed.

 

“No,” I admitted.

 

“Would you like to?”

 

I looked at him in alarm.

 

He laughed, “I didn’t mean now, I meant some time.”

 

I smiled, “I’d love you to be my first.”

 

He leant in and kissed me again.

 

“Its amazing!” he said as he pulled away.

 

“What is?”

 

“Its like we saved ourselves for each other.”

 

I nodded at him.

 

I had never heard a boy speak to openly about his emotions.  According to all my magazines they just weren’t supposed to be like this.  Yet I had one sat right before me, telling me he loved me and speaking rather like an over romantic poet.

 

“So what shall we do?” I asked lightly, trying to change the subject.

 

“I quite like talking,” he replied.

 

“I can think of something better to do.”

 

I took a jump further along the bed until I was practically sat in his lap and putting my hands round his head brought him in towards me for a kiss.

 

He was so gentle, gentle and warm.  He always kissed me so softly and carefully in neat little bursts perfectly timed and placed to make my insides turn to jelly.

 

I broke away for breath.

 

“You’re great you know that?”

 

It wasn’t quite ‘I love you’, but it seemed to please him nevertheless as he grabbed me tighter and began to kiss me a little bit faster than he had ever done before.

 

I responded eagerly, pressing my lips firmly against his and then forcing his mouth gently open and slipping my tongue inside.

 

He pulled away.

 

“What are you doing?” he asked.

 

“Kissing you.”

 

“We don’t have to do that you know,” he said gently, “we can take it slower.”

 

I stopped myself from rolling my eyes at him, sometimes he could just be so irritating, didn’t he understand that sometimes girls did actually like to take things a bit further.

 

“Shut up,” I replied and we began to kiss again until his Mum shouted up the stairs at dinnertime and I had to go home.