Chapter 21
TORI
The caution with which he takes my face in his hands is overwhelming. And so are the softness of his lips and the heat of his breath, which caresses my mouth for a fraction of a second before he kisses me. Firmly, yet gently.
At last.
If I’m allowed only one kiss in my whole life, let it be this one. My eyelids shut of their own accord; my hands seek him out and find his firm shoulders. I have to tip my head back because he’s so tall. And I forget to breathe. I only realize that when I start feeling a wee bit dizzy.
Charlie pulls away ever so slightly, but his face is still so close that I can’t quite get him into focus, and then he abruptly flings both arms around me.
I can’t remember the last time he hugged me like this. But it must have been ages ago. And I’ve missed it. I press my face into his jumper and want to cry, but I don’t.
‘I’m in love with you too,’ I whisper instead, feeling the way he tenses. ‘I’ve been in love with you as long as I can remember, Charlie.’
He smells of security, flour and tea. And his eyes are so endlessly blue when he looks back at me. I recognize the question in them.
‘And I was scared that I was the only one to feel that way,’ I add.
‘I was scared too,’ he admits. ‘Tori, you’re my best friend. That matters more than anything. I couldn’t live with it if I lost you.’
I dig my fingers harder into his arms. ‘You won’t.’
‘But maybe I will.’
‘Why do you think that?’ I ask, although I know only too well.
‘Because I’m not Val.’
OK, apparently, I’m wrong. I let out my breath.
‘I don’t care about Val.’
Charles hesitates.
‘OK, that’s not true, but . . . he never came anywhere close to being what you are to me.’ My heart is pounding, Charlie’s looking at me. ‘Because you’re everything. You’re my home. You’re the person I could always tell everything.’
‘Yes, but then you stopped,’ he says. His voice cracks and I can hear the pain that we share.
I blink, as the tears come after all. ‘I know. And I’m sorry.’
‘Why, Tori?’ His fingers are on my chin. When I look up, his eyes are glinting. ‘Why did we stop? We were perfect.’
‘Because we were scared,’ I whisper. ‘Or I was scared, anyway. So scared, the whole time.’
When Charlie gulps, then nods, I know he felt the same.
‘I was scared too. And I didn’t want all this.
All the stuff I said to you. Fuck, I’m so sorry, Tori.
I’m ashamed of what I did. But I was raging.
About the way you let Val treat you. He kept pulling you further away from us all, and I couldn’t do a thing about it.
And then I treated you just as shit as he did.
No, worse. Kissing Eleanor like that, I shouldn’t have done it. ’
I swallow, and although they are words I’ve longed to hear, I force myself to shake my head. ‘It was your role.’
‘No, it wasn’t. It was unnecessary. It was Charles, wanting to hurt Tori. Because I’m a fucking arsehole.’
‘I hurt you too,’ I whisper. ‘So I guess I deserved it.’
‘No, you didn’t.’ His thumbs stroke over my cheeks. ‘You didn’t deserve any of it. You deserve someone who treats you with respect.’
My throat is tight. ‘I think I know someone.’
His eyes wander over my face. From my eyes to my nose to my mouth. My knees go weak. ‘I think I do too.’
My stomach tingles as he puts his index finger under my chin and raises it gently up to him again.
This time it’s not him kissing me, it’s us kissing each other.
Slowly, carefully. I’ve never felt so safe.
Safe enough to press my tongue gently against his lips and to keep going as he opens his mouth for me.
When it hits his, waves of heat flood through my body.
I’ve touched my best friend thousands of times, but never like this. And I’ve never felt as beautiful as I do in his arms. And that’s absurd, because I look awful, I know that, even after I showered earlier. There’s no denying that I’ve spent the last seven days sick in bed.
And Charlie knows that. I feel his warm body directly on mine, but he stops when he notices I’m getting out of breath. He strokes his thumb over my bottom lip and my heart skips a beat. He looks at me and smiles.
‘You’re so gorgeous,’ he whispers. ‘And you have to get to bed and rest.’
‘But I want to be with you.’
‘Tori . . .’
‘Please.’
He sighs gently. ‘I’m nearly done here. Give me five minutes and we’ll go back together, OK?’
I nod. He studies me for a moment with the same disbelief in his eyes that I feel. How can it suddenly be this easy? Where’s the catch?
There isn’t one. I really want to believe that as Charlie kisses me again before disappearing back into the bake room.
He hurries. I’ve been sitting on one of the stools by the sales counter for less than five minutes when he comes back.
He’s taken off the dark red apron and reaches for his jacket, which is hanging on a hook on the wall.
He pulls a woolly hat out of his pocket, but doesn’t put it on; instead, he holds it out to me.
‘Take this,’ he demands sternly. My stomach feels warm. I do as he says and slip down from the stool as he reaches for my hand. He doesn’t let go of it all the way back to the school. Not even when we’re through the gate and a few third- and fourth-formers are coming towards us.
It’s almost wing time, but Charlie doesn’t stop to say goodbye when we get to the point where he should go right and I should turn left. I pause in the west-wing stairwell. He immediately looks at me.
‘Everything OK?’ His eyes wander over me.
‘Ms Barnett is sure to look in on me.’ I pull my key out of my pocket and hand it to him. ‘You go ahead. I’ll tell her I’m back and that I’m going straight to bed.’
‘OK.’ He leans down and kisses me, slips the key into his pocket, and hurries away.
Ms Barnett asks three times how I feel, and won’t let me go until I’ve taken my temperature. It’s normal. She’s satisfied, and nods understandingly when I say I’m going to get an early night.
My heart is pounding as I walk down the corridor to my room. Charlie’s left the door ajar and he’s sitting on the bed as I come in. He raises his head, his blond hair falling into his eyes, and my stomach leaps. He’s already taken off his jacket and shoes, and he stands up as I follow suit.
Then he pulls me to him and presses me into the mattress. The last time we shared a bed was after the New Year Ball. And I’ve missed it. His warm body, the fact of how perfectly my head fits his chest.
‘Your parents were here?’ he asks.
I feel suddenly cold. ‘Yes, I . . . Did you see them?’ I make an effort to sound as unfazed as possible. Did he see Mum too? And if so, did he notice anything?
‘Only your dad, last Monday. But Mum said they were here together a couple of days ago, to see you. Didn’t you want to go home with them?’
‘I was feeling loads better, and it would have been kind of tricky. Dad’s got so much work on right now, and Mum . . .’ Shit. ‘She’s away a lot.’
Charlie says nothing. Eventually, he asks: ‘Is everything OK at home?’
He knows. Or maybe he doesn’t, but he can guess. Of course he can. He knows me. Last time I got ill at school, Mum and Dad picked me up and looked after me at home. But I was thirteen then, and Mum hadn’t started drinking. Or not as obviously. I was younger. Maybe I just didn’t notice.
‘Yeah, sure,’ I say hastily, but my voice sounds a bit high.
And the tears spring to my eyes. It’s just so hard to keep pushing everything down, not to permanently worry about it all.
Has Mum really got it under control? Will Dad manage to persuade her to try another clinic?
Would that even do any good if it’s not her own decision?
‘Hey,’ Charlie whispers, laying his fingers on my cheek. I blink and blink and blink, but I’m tired and thin-skinned, and then I start to cry. ‘Tori, what’s wrong?’
My shoulders twitch and I get the feeling that, here in his arms, everything that’s been holding me together for the last few weeks just falls away.
‘Has something happened?’
I want to shake my head and nod at the same time, because I don’t know. Something’s happened, but nothing specific. It’s more something brewing slowly, and scaring me. Because I can only guess at what will happen next.
‘It’s so stupid,’ I blurt out. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s not stupid,’ he says at once. ‘Is she drinking again?’
How could I ever have thought he wouldn’t have twigged?
I just nod and wipe away my tears.
‘A lot?’ he asks.
‘I don’t know.’ Sobs. Soothing. ‘Will and I haven’t been home since that weekend at the end of January.’
‘Is that why you came back early?’
I nod again, feeling ashamed. But it’s the truth. ‘And because of Kit,’ I add. ‘It was the weekend the situation with his dad escalated.’
Charlie hesitates. ‘Was she . . . you know, when they were here?’
‘She was sober,’ I say. ‘I think. But I don’t know. Charlie, I’m scared.’
He tightens his arm around me. ‘I know,’ he whispers into my hair. ‘Why didn’t you say anything, instead of dragging all this around with you the whole time?’
I shrug in silence.
‘Or were you able to talk to Val about it?’
The brief laugh that escapes me is a bitter one. ‘Yeah, course.’
‘So that’s a no, then?’
I wriggle away from him so I can look at him. ‘Charlie, I couldn’t talk to Valentine about a thing. Not a single thing, you know? Maybe what it’s like growing up in a wealthy family, but that’s it.’
The pain in his eyes takes my breath away. ‘So why did you go along with it for so long?’
‘I dunno, because I was weak, no idea. I didn’t want to believe it. Right from the start, everyone around me knew better. It made me angry, so I started kidding myself. Because I was so bloody stubborn and didn’t want to admit that you were right.’