The Cupid Touch

The Cupid Touch Chapter 10 - Twisting

I knew that Maria couldn't have seen me on the door-step. Mine is the only room of the apartment that looks out onto the street, and even I can't see who's buzzing. But she gave me a raised eyebrow as she let me into our poky hallway, and I felt like Joe-Moe's kiss must have left marks on me, his name blazed across my skin. 

"Thanks," I said, trying for casual but talking way too much. "I got a puncture twenty-five miles out and then it started raining, so I found a diner to take refuge in until I could persuade someone to give me a ride home. But I can't believe I left my keys there. What a perfect end to a ridiculous day."

I wheeled my bike past her, and into the tiny third bedroom that was too small to rent out. 

"So you got a ride from Joseph Moritz?" Maria called from behind me.

"I - what?" 

I turned round to see her giving me a knowing smile. How the hell had she found out? Had someone seen us together? 

"How exactly did you end up wearing his football jersey?" Maria asked. "Was there a little detour on the way home?"

Shit. I'd forgotten about the hoodie. His name was literally written on me. 

"No, there wasn't!" I answered, outraged. Then I realised I was almost shouting at her, and that I was starting to blush. "It isn't even slightly what it looks like."

And yet, it was basically exactly what it looked like. Like someone who'd fallen for the college stud and sort-of wanted everybody to know. 

"I was freezing cold," I went on, in a calmer voice, while Maria settled in a kitchen-chair to watch me. "I changed at the diner, and left all my wet clothes - and my keys in the pocket - next to the table. He was just helping me out."

"Uh-huh," Maria said, significantly, and then gave me a crinkle-eyed grin. "He going to help you out tomorrow?"

"No," I said, immediately, before remembering that he had a secret, too, that I badly wanted to know. "I might - if he wants to drive me back out to the diner to get my stuff, that would be fine."

"Sure," she said. "Nothing but helpful."

She wouldn't stop grinning at me. It was the same expression my Mom had when I first went on a date, and I knew the expression always ended up in a disappointed one when I had to explain that the dreamboat had gone off with someone else. It wasn't fair to be angry with Maria for reminding me that I was being an idiot.

Luckily for me, Luke called Maria's cell-phone at that point, leaving me free to escape to my room and then beat myself up about being weak throughout a long, hot shower.

I knew I shouldn't see him the next day. But oh, I wanted to. 

Just see him one more time, I told myself, and then you can break things off. 

I didn't want to think about the bit where I started to protect myself again. Even with the hot water pouring over me, it made me feel cold. 

Joe-Moe emailed me at ten. I got it straight away, because I'd been checking every two minutes since I'd dragged myself back out of the shower. All I'd achieved in the intervening time was three unsent versions of a message to him explaining that I couldn't see him again, and a good twenty minutes of looking at the photos of him I could see on Facebook. However hard I tried, I couldn't seem to convince myself that he was just a brainless jock. 

It wasn't a particularly long message:

Hey Helena,

I dug your email off the college address-book. I just wanted to let you know that I'd dropped your cycling gear off. It's just inside the main hall, as some civic-minded neighbour kindly let me in. Apparently I didn't look violent enough to bar.