Heart of Glass Page 2

  “Like a hole in the head,” Prue replied, smiling at Ben.

  “Hey,” Ben said. “Nice to meet you, Prue.”

  Then he turned to me. His hand reached to out shake mine. I looked up into his eyes and felt myself being pushed aside as Lucy shouldered her way towards him.

  “Hi Ben,” she breathed, all Marilyn Monroe. “It’s really nice to meet you. We’ve been looking forward to it.”

  To prove the point she thrust out her breasts and gave her lashes and extra flutter or two. It was a forehand straight down the line that I’d never be able to counter. Then, she grabbed his hand in hers and, squeezing like a python, she flashed her beauty queen smile. Even Mother Imelda couldn’t resist that smile.

  “Um, yeah,” Ben said. “Enjoy the game?”

  “Yes, thank you. You played very well, I can see why so many people are after you.” Lucy’s eyes roamed up and down his body. The look was not lost on Ben who smiled back wolfishly. Beauty queen clearly trumped plain and mousey every day of the week.

  Deflated, I sunk to the back of the group. Lucy was doing it again. Every time one of us showed interest she had to make it into some sort of contest that we could never hope to win. Five minutes previously, Ben had been winking at me across the room and now I’d never have a chance. I watched her giggling at him and batting her lids. As if she’d know how he played. She hadn’t even realised he was there until we spotted him. To make matters worse Ben was lapping it up. He was grinning at everything Lucy said, his eyes firmly locked on her double D cups.

  He didn’t even know I existed.

  Chapter 2

  CLOSE TO YOU

  Why do birds suddenly appear

  Every time you are near?

  Just like me, they long to be, close to you.

  The Carptenters

  After meeting Ben at the football, we had gone back to Prue’s house for dinner. Excited by the events of the day, Lucy came up with a novel idea. “Let’s write Ben a note.”

  I groaned. It was another in a long line of Lucy’s harebrained schemes, designed to make us look silly and get her the man.

  “But we don’t know where he lives, there’d be hundreds of James’ in the phone book.” Prue

  said, looking up from her lasagne.

  “We’ll post it to his school.”

  “It’s two hundred kilometres away, Luc’. Don’t you think we’re going a bit overboard?”

  “I don’t think it’s good idea, either,” Jen added. “What if it falls into the wrong hands?”

  Lucy laughed. “Oh, Jennifer. We’re not talking about a mafia hit list. It’s just a bit of fun.”

  “Well, I’ll do it, but I would much rather sit on the couch with Tim. He’s watching a replay of the football.”

  The statement was met with a resounding cry, as we threw a barrage of napkins at her head.

  “It’d be so much easier if you two would get it on, Jen. Your constant pining is becoming very annoying.”

  Jen blushed and looked to the floor. Lucy, of course, remained oblivious to the hurt her words could cause.

  To change the subject, Prue produced a whole box of scented notepaper and a purple inked fountain pen, which she had gotten for a previous birthday. I was designated scribe.

  “Your ideas’ll catch his attention,” Lucy said, as I began to write in my girlish flowery

  script.

  ‘Dear Ben,

  You won’t remember us but…’

  How long would it take her to take the attention once I had grabbed it? I wondered. It happened all the time.

  ***

  The letter posted and forgotten, I was blown away when the phone rang a few weeks later.

  “Hello? Annabelle Stone speaking.”

  “Hi, Annabelle. This is Ben James. Listen, I got your note and I’m going to be in town this weekend for a training camp with the State Team. Would you like to go out on Saturday night?”

  I nearly choked into the mouthpiece. Was the Pope a Catholic? Of course I would.

  “Um, yeah. Sure Ben, I’d love to, but I’ll have to ask my parents. They’re pretty strict. They might not let me. Give me a sec’.” Running to the lounge, where Mum and Dad were watching Four Corners, my imagination began to run riot. How could I pose the question? God, what if they said no? And worse, if they said ‘yes’, what would I wear? Why was Ben calling me, anyway? He hadn’t shown the slightest interest when we’d met, except for that wink. If anything, I’d been sure he’d liked Lucy.

  Five minutes and a few strange looks from Dad later, I was giving Ben the directions to my house - that was where the date would be. Leaving the house without meeting the boy and getting to know his life history and future prospects was out of the question according to Mum. I had been foolish to even consider the possibility. But if I knew her at all, she’d have all the information she needed by the end of the evening, right down to his inner leg measurement and at what age he’d lost his first tooth.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” I said. “Mum and Dad would rather do the meet and greet thing, you know how it is.”

  I heard him chuckle. “Not at all, we’ll see you on Saturday night.”

  I hung up the phone. We were into the second set and I had taken a commanding lead. Lucy was going to spew.

  ***

  The next day, I dragged Prue into a corner of the common room away from the sonic hearing of the other Year 10 girls. Even a sniff of any social activity not involving Lucy was potential riot material and I knew Prue’s reaction would be dramatic. It always was.

  “Will you come to my house on Saturday night? Please? Ben James is coming over and he’s bringing his friend.”

  Prue’s mouth opened so far I could have yanked it off the floor. “When did thishappen?”

  “Last night. He rang me.”

  “But how did he get…? It was the letter, wasn’t it? He got the letter!” Positively animated, she let out a scream and began to do funny little skipping jumps on the spot, like a cartoon rabbit in heat. “Oh my God, Bella, this is awesome!” Then she stilled. “Lucy’s gonna go mental when she finds out.”

  “Shh. I know, but will you come? It’ll be so embarrassing if we have to sit in the lounge all night with Dad snoring and Mum checking him out for suitability. If you come over, we can go to the family room and listen to records and stuff.”

  Living with the daggiest parents on the planet was not an easy task. It took a lot of skill to keep them hidden from the general public. But Prue had my back. She always did.

  “That would be a disaster. You don’t want to look like some baby whose parents supervise her all the time.”

  “Exactly. So, will you help? You never know, his friend might be really cute too.”

  The grapevine worked overtime during lunch and it wasn’t long before the whole school knew about the impending ‘date’. Everyone had ideas about what I should wear and how I should act to give the impression of worldliness given that I had absolutely none. A date with an eighteen year old was, after all, the jewel in the dating crown. Everything had to be planned to perfection.

  Prue was rabid with excitement as we discussed clothing choices – not that I had any, but her supply was limitless.

  “Should I wear my new top and those boots I got last week?” she asked. The chance to spend an evening with two older guys was proving to be a thrill for us both but then, the idea of having a date at all was a thrill. “I can’t believe he rang you, Bella, I never thought we would hear anything when we wrote that stupid note. It didn’t even have a proper address.”

  “Ben said it went to his school and the footy coach passed it on. We were lucky not to get into lots of trouble.”

  Jen looked up from the couch. “I hope that note wasn’t read by every teacher in his school before he got it. I would die of embarrassment.”

  I rolled my eyes. Jen ‘died of embarrassment’ at least twice a day and over things that even I considered trivial.

  But Lucy,
who had sat in stony silence since the news had broken, butted in. “Oh, don’t be so ridiculous, Jennifer. Honestly, sometimes you can be so immature. As if a bunch of teachers on the other side of the state would know or even care who you are.”

  Everyone stared. Lucy was such a cow sometimes.

  “Well? What are you all looking at? Anyone’d think Ben James was the only boy in the world, the way you’re all carrying on.”

  We remained silent but, from the looks that passed, it was obvious we shared the same thought. An evening with Ben James meant more to Lucy than she cared to admit.

  ***

  So there I was, a few nights later, in the middle of the bedroom, hands on hips, considering the piles of clothes at my feet. My skinny body, for I had as many curves at that age as a plank of wood, was wrapped in a fleecy towel and my hair covered by another, shaped into a turban. I’d spent an hour in the bathroom washing my hair, shaving my legs and plucking my eyebrows. Then, back in my room, I cranked the stereo to the loudest Mum would allow without some comment about the music of today’s young people and set about making myself as gorgeous as possible. If this was going to come to a fight between Lucy and I wasn’t going down easily.

  As I sang along with The Carpenters, I deliberated what would be the perfect outfit for my ‘date’. Yes, I know I’d already been through my whole wardrobe twice but my clothes were vile and unsuitable and it was hard to concentrate with those lovebirds twittering around my head singing ‘Close to You’. Considering the choices, I settled on jeans and my favourite cheesecloth shirt. At least I’d feel comfortable and I knew they looked okay so I wouldn’t be obsessing all night. I glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was almost time.

  The boys arrived at 8.30pm sharp. I answered the door with what I hoped was a welcoming smile but inside, I was wound so tight I couldn’t breathe.

  “Hi.”

  Ben smiled back, a big beaming smile that made him look like he was on the cover of ‘Teen Girl’ magazine. I, of course, melted into a puddle of teenage lust at his feet. After introductions, where Dad didn’t even raise his face over the newspaper and Mum looked at the boys as if they had just declared paedophilia to be their favourite pastime, we walked through the house and into the family room. I guided the boys to a corner and they plonked down in the beanbags. We looked at each other and smiled that strained constipated grin people have when they don’t know what else to do.

  Silence.

  What did I do now? I wasn’t the chirpiest of conversationalists in new company.

  “Want a coke?” I got up and walked to the bar. Playing hostess would fill in five minutes.

  “Great. Thanks,” Ben said.

  More silence.

  I pulled some glasses from the mirrored shelf and placed them on the bar. The night was going to be a disaster if I didn’t transform into the life of the party. And quick. If only I knew what to do and say. If only I had my friends around me. It was times like these I realised why I needed Lucy in my life. That girl knew how work a room. She would have had the boys salivating.

  Bending into the door of the fridge, I grabbed the coke bottle. The boys were watching me, which made me feel more self-conscious than ever.

  “Prue’s coming over,” I gabbled. “ You met her at the football. She’s the one with dark hair. She should be here soon. She’s always late. She’s got heaps of great albums. She’s going to bring some with her…. Oh shit!”

  Not watching where I was going, a whole glass of coke flew from my hand and landed on the rug at Ben’s feet, soaking into the cheesecloth of my top as it fell. Yet another awkward silence fell over the room.

  I looked at the boys. They were doing their best to be polite but they looked as if they were about to explode with laughter. The fabric of my top became transparent and clung, bunched, to my skin, exposing my entire lack of cleavage to the world, not to mention my nipples.

  Then, right on cue, the doorbell rang.

  “That’ll be Prue, I expect. I won’t be a second,” I muttered, rushing for the safety of the front door. With my luck, they would have changed their minds and gone home before I got back. I was about as scintillating as an evening alone with a cabbage.

  Prue gawked at my top and shaking her head, went ahead of me into the family room. “I’m not even going to ask,” she said. She was so calm, so self-controlled. “Hi, Ben. I’ve bought the new KISS album. It’s excellent; wanna have a listen?” She flopped down onto the carpet and leant towards the stereo to change the album.

  Avoiding the wet patch, I sat between her and Ben. “Do you like KISS, Ben?”

  “Yeah, they’re good. They play them a lot at the pub we go to.”

  “I wish I was old enough to go to pubs.”

  “Age doesn’t matter, you can get fake ID.”

  “I could I s’pose, but I look so young, I’d get caught for sure.” I picked at a loose thread in the carpet. These boys were so grown up. There was no chance they were going to like me once they got to know me. I didn’t even think they’d want to get to know me.

  “Well, you can get in if you’re accompanied by an adult, can’t you? Maybe I could supervise you?” Ben smiled and leant over to put his hand on my arm. It felt warm and soft. “Don’t worry Bella, one night I’ll take you to the pub and buy you a drink. I’ll look after you.”

  I looked into his eyes. His smile was genuine and I could feel the blush spreading across my cheeks yet again. I hoped to God he wouldn’t notice but he continued to stare at my face, scrutinizing every part, as I fell into his blue eyes, hypnotised. Corny as it sounds, it was as if we were suddenly the only two people in the world. Beneath my awkwardness, he got me. I knew he did.

  After half an hour or so, my clearly conversation boring him beyond belief, Ben got up to look around the room. The family room was the only spot in the house Toby and I were allowed to express ourselves so there were a lot of band posters - mostly mine. Ben stopped in front of a Meatloaf poster; it’s orange and brown colours dripping off the wall.

  “Do you have the ‘Bat out of Hell’ album?”

  “Yeah. I’m in love with Heaven Can Wait at the moment. It’s my favourite song. The lyrics are so good.”

  “I’ll have to have a closer listen.”

  “Mm.”

  “Where’d you get the poster?”

  “My Dad got it for me when he went to Sydney on business.”

  Ben looked for a minute longer and then sat down, making himself comfortable on the sofa. “You’ve got some cool stuff in here.”

  “Thanks.”

  I stared at the wall. I didn’t know what else to say. The record was playing and I looked down at my hands, fiddling with my ring, twisting it round my finger. Say something you idiot, I thought. He’s going to think you’re a complete dick. Not knowing what else to do, I wandered over and sat on the arm of the sofa, above him, looking down into his eyes and wishing I was the type of girl who could throw myself at him or at least crack a joke that he’d want to laugh at. It would make the tension a whole lot easier to deal with. The silence between us was deafening, my awkwardness a big black hole, threatening to suck me in and never let me go. This was way harder than I’d imagined a date would be. I took a deep breath.

  “Have you seen lots of live bands?”

  “A few. Cold Chisel were cool.”

  “I don’t mind the ‘Breakfast at Sweethearts’ album. The third track is awesome.”

  Ben looked impressed. Girls who could talk about music must’ve been rare in the crowd he mixed with. We chatted on for a minute but then he smiled, a most enticing smile. I thought I was going to faint.

  “Come sit next to me.”

  Nearly tripping on the rug, I moved to the cushions and sat down at the other end of the sofa, trying to keep some distance between us. It was the only way I could cope with the overwhelming rush of emotions that were surging through me. What the hell was wrong with me? It wasn’t like Id never been held by a boy before.
I sat nervously, hands tucked under my thighs trying to understand why he should affect me so. Why him?

  “That’s better, huh?” Ben said, sliding across the sofa to join me, and trapping me between his body and the wall on the other side. He did it so fast, so fluidly that I didn’t even notice until it was too late. I was caught. Then his arm slipped around my shoulders and he gently pulled my hand free; not even pretending it was an accident like other boys did.

  “Your hands are cold….” he whispered, as he held my trembling hand against his own, the warmth burning into my palm, the softness of his fingertips pushing against mine.

  I couldn’t answer. My breathing had accelerated to the perilously high levels I knew could only be bad for my health.

  Ben was so close now; I could see soft hairs at the side of his jaw and the flecks of grey in his blue eyes. The mere brush of his finger on my shoulder sent shivers through my body and my heart began to beat in unison with my breath. “You know, I really like your hair, Bella. It’s not like other girls’.”

  He moved his hand to touch the nearest strands, lifting them away as his face moved closer. I moistened my lips with my tongue and tried to enjoy it but all I could feel was the huge wad of unexplained nausea or excitement or something in my stomach. I had no idea what it was.

  If he blows in my ear I’ll have to call for a paper bag, I thought.

  He blew.

  Then he shifted slightly. Oh God, he was going to kiss me. And I was going to suck so badly, he’d never want to do it again. I quivered like the lone autumn leaf left on the tree as he ran his tongue over his lips and prepared me for my fate. He studied my face, his eyes finally coming to rest on my mouth. He was ravenous and I was to be the feast.

  “How about I turn the heater up? It’s a bit chilly in here,” I blurted, jumping from my spot.

  “No, sit here.”

  I sat still.

  “You have really cute dimples,” he said, ignoring my shaking leg.

  “The, um, record’s finished….”