The Kiss by Lucy Courtenay Read Free Book Online

to get some and catch the next one but just like at M&S my stupid card wouldn’t let me take any money out. I felt like a medieval peasant walking home from the market because he’d sold his donkey by mistake.’
    ‘Why didn’t you call me? I could have asked Dad to fetch you in the car!’
    ‘I didn’t know how to tell you I’d messed up,’ I improvise lamely.
    ‘You said you’d fix this . . .’
    ‘Jem promised to call Sam and explain,’ I tell her, pleating my crumply duvet cover between my fingers. How he’s going to do that without Sam’s number is something I’ll worry about later. ‘I tried to message him the details about ten times throughout the evening but he kept saying, “Later, I’ve just got to paint one more teensy blood vessel on the back of your hand and will you kiss me” and all this stuff about moonlight and I forgot .’
    There is a long pause.
    ‘What?’
    I just want to put my head under my pillow and sleep until Wednesday.
    ‘Can we talk about it tomorrow?’ I mumble. ‘Love you. And sorry. Again.’
    I switch my phone off and crash out, fully dressed. At some point in the night I have the kind of dream you don’t even tell your best friend about. I’m human, OK? You try getting through the kind of evening I’ve just had and then deciding: ‘Right, where’s that ice-pack, I’m going to sleep on it and dream about road maps and plumbing.’

I press the button again. Nothing.
    ‘Get a move on, love,’ says a voice behind me in the queue.
    I stare at the cashpoint, willing it to spit my life out. ‘It just swallowed my card!’ I say in dismay.
    The grizzled guy in a workman’s hat behind me shrugs. ‘You finished?’
    I hesitate. If I move away from the cash machine, I’ll never see my card again. The next person’s transaction will lie over the top of mine, like a Rottweiler on a trapdoor.
    ‘What’s up?’ Tabby stands over me, head hunched into the woolly scarf she wears round her neck.
    ‘Your mate’s holding up the queue.’ The grizzly workman’s eyes flick over our student gear. ‘Some of us have to get to work this morning.’
    ‘But—’
    Tabby pulls me away from the cash machine. The queue moves up; the grizzly guy punches numbers on to the keypad with calloused fingertips. I watch, hoping the machine is broken. But no: fat ten-pound notes come crinkling through without a problem. Folding the cash and sliding it into his back pocket, Grizzly Guy eyes me narrowly, as if I am after his PIN number.
    ‘I’ll buy you lunch,’ says Tab, marching me across the street to college. ‘Not that you deserve it. I can’t believe you got with the bar guy last night.’
    ‘I didn’t set out to kiss him,’ I say crossly. Losing my card is all I need today. ‘Unlike some people I could mention.’
    Tab leans against me in silent apology and I pat her with my painted hand. The fake veins and arteries are still pretty freaky, even though I left half of them on my sheets in the night.
    My phone shrieks like a boiled cat in my jacket pocket. After failing to hear any of Tab’s calls yesterday, I’ve turned it up deliberately loud. Unknown number. I hit the green button.
    ‘Whatever you’re selling, no thanks.’
    ‘I was going to say, good luck with Keynes,’ Jem says.
    I am so shocked I can’t speak.
    ‘I went home and Googled him last night. Interesting guy, if massive moustaches and the cause of a boom-and-bust economy are your bag.’
    ‘How did you get my number?’ I stammer.
    ‘I texted myself on your phone last night when you were half-asleep. You know. Just in case you forgot your very important promise to your mate about giving me her boyfriend’s number.’
    Tabby is watching, hawk-eyed. Is it him? she mouths. I nod. My mind is racing like the Grand National round a small suburban garden.
    ‘Why did you run away last night?’ he asks. ‘We were only just getting started.’
    The heat in his voice almost scorches my ear off. I hang up