What I Couldn't Tell Him

11 - This Is A Sh*t Idea

ALDEN POV

The familiar beat of adrenaline races through my veins like a drug. Who needs cigarettes?

We edge along the bushes and pavement, eyes fixed on the dark windows of our houses. They are not lit up yet; it's only six in the morning.

We reach the border of her house, crouching low behind a bush. She is silent, her breathing deep and slow.

"So, come into mine and climb through the window," I command, starting to stand up and make towards the side door.

An elegant, strong arm stops me. I spin around, eyes wild and angry. She doesn't flinch but shakes her head.

"Absolutely not." She hisses, hair falling across her face. Her eyes are bright and incredulous.

"What do you suggest then?" I say, raising my eyebrow. I try to patronise her but it fails.

"Hmm, how about, the front door?" She says, laughing at me. I groan.

"What if they hear you?" I muse, trying to prove her wrong.

"Then I say I got up early and went downstairs, but if they see me climbing through the window then I haven't really got a way out, have I?" Unfortunately, I can't argue with that.

"Fine. You're no fun."
I start walking slowly to the front of my house. I assume she has already gone in and fumble around the flowerpot for the spare key. Then I see the great black car and remember that my mum is home. When we're all inside, she takes the spare key.

"You didn't bring a key did you?" Jaimie says in an amused tone. I shake my head, feeling the blush creep up my neck and make my face hot.

"Come on then, dumbass." She holds her front door open, half her driveway flooded with golden light from inside. It is still quite dark. I jog over as quietly as possible, still avoiding waking anyone.

I brush past her and breathe in the calming scent of incense. Her house is tidy and traditional, with plump armchairs and gaping fireplaces. It is twee and very feminine and doesn't seem like her style at all.

She motions for me to follow her and I creep along obediently. I match her as she avoids specific stairs and grips the bannister to take her weight off certain parts of the wooden floorboards.

Without meaning to, I study the layout of her house, trying unsuccessfully to work out more about her. There are no pictures or sentimental decorations. It has no personality to it, it looks magazine ready, if a little bare.

There are five doors leading off the warmly lit landing; a shut and locked door, a bathroom, a study, a bedroom with the door wide open and Jaimie's room. I assume that her mum (and dad?) sleep in the shut room and the other is spare.

We skirt along the wall silently until she turns the handle of her room with a little creak. We step inside. I am not surprised by the interior because I have seen it from the window. It is tidy too, but there are still no family photos. It's not as cutesy as the other rooms, but there's a layer to it. Her personality is applied in posters and objects that can all be peeled off to reveal the same beige prettiness as everywhere else.

She flings open the curtains, allowing the pale morning light in. I suddenly feel tired.

She unclips the latch carefully and pulls the window open. She moves like a ballet dancer, the motions of her long limbs and slender hands considered. I don't know anyone else who carries themselves so gracefully. She seems older than her years.

Eyeing the gap, Jaimie shakes her head.

"This is a shit idea." She scowls at me and the window in turn.

I have the horrible thought that the window might be locked and pray that I didn't close it. The latch is on the inside, so I won't be able to tell until I'm perched on my windowsill and try pulling.

I shake my hands out and stand on her chair. I sit on the ledge with my feet dangling over the fence below and stare across.

This is the view she had when I was smoking. She could probably smell it too.

I look back across the gap and inhale deeply. Muscles taught and heart thumping, I jump.

I know that I am close enough, but I still feel the adrenaline and the drop of my stomach as I clatter into the wall. I scrabble like a puppy trying to get purchase on the wall. My frantic hands find the lip of the window frame and I haul myself over as smoothly as I can.

Her forehead is creased.

I try to seem casual as I tug at the frame. For a moment I think it isn't budging, but then it does. My chest deflates. Once inside, I turn back to face Jaimie. I cough to disguise my loss of breath.

"See you in... Two hours." I smirk and slide the window shut with a satisfying thump.

JAIMIE POV

I watched him plunge over the darkness and drag himself in with my heart in my throat. I did not want to see him hurt. I told myself to get a grip. He shouldn't have jumped, but then again, it was cool to watch. I don't need to be afraid for him. I can't afford him him to be afraid for me.

I need to go back to ignoring him. He's been a prick. If I can just focus on the ugly bits of his personality, maybe I can repulse myself.

Last night is a write off. Forgive myself and move on.

I lie still and sleepless. I am weary and heavy, but I can't sleep. I don't know if I should feign illness for school. I can't risk setting my mum off and her taking me to hospital. I don't want to have to see him. Too soon.

I drifted off without noticing and am awoken again by the chirping of my alarm. I set it as birdsong thinking it would be relaxing, but it is mechanical and annoying now. I don't think anyone can like their alarm, even if it's their favourite song, purely because it is a reminder that they have to get up. And nobody likes that.

"Are you in their Jay?" My mum calls, knocking on my door.

"Yeah. I'll be two minutes." I stumble over to the mirror, dragging my feet in the deep carpet. I see heavy rings under my eyes and eliminate them with thick concealer. They're so dark that it just makes my face look chalky, so I wipe it off. I coat my eyelashes with mascara and give up there.

Half an hour later, I'm standing in the school yard, pushing a twig around with my shoe, scrolling through my phone on nothing in particular.

Two hands cover my eyes and I suck in a breath. I grab them and spin around to see Alden smirking at me. I shove his shoulders. I'm smiling and I try to force it off but I can't.

"Sorry, princess. Did I make you jump?" He teases, pulling his arms away.

"Don't call me that." I grumble. This is going wrong already.

He laughs and shakes his head. His eyes are softer than usual and he doesn't seem so forced. It's nice. I enjoy the moment before his friends walk over.

"So, did he get lucky Jaimie?" Brooklyn asks me, cocking an eyebrow.

"For fuck's sake. No," I say, shuffling away from Alden. I don't want to look at his face, but I can sense the tension in his shoulders. He's definitely looking at me, so I fold my arms self-consciously.

Brooklyn has done my job for me. Telling his friends he fucked me is low and gross. The smile is long gone.

"Ouch." Jordan laughs, prodding Alden's arm. I glare at them. In hindsight, last night was a massive screw up. I need to cling to this cold anger and keep him as far from me as I can.