Trust No Bitch: Part 1

Gemma Akintola

The creak of a mouldering floorboard, the whistling of the wind as it gushed through an open door and a scuffle of footsteps from the edge of the room. It all happened at once causing Gemma to whip round, crossing her arms tightly to her chest.

She was not alone.

"Who's there?" She shouted, her heart thudding in her chest, bouncing off her rib cage as if it were a trampoline. She had arrived early for a secret meeting, and was starting to really wish that she hadn't; between the hasty exit from the party and the cursory round of goodbyes, she wouldn't have noticed if some masked serial killer had followed her there. The meeting place was a dilapidated youth centre near the cove and the person she'd planned to meet had yet to turn up. "I swear, whoever you are, if you try anything I will gouge your fucking eyes out." Gemma growled, squinting into the darkness to try and make out who it was.

"You're a feisty one, aren't you, Akintola?" Came a familiar Lancashire accent from the far end of the room as the old lights overhead flickered on, starting at the far end of the room and eventually falling on the young man who stood there. Gemma couldn't help but grin at the sight of him, trying to twist her smile into a grimace as she marched over, lightly shoving his shoulder once they were stood face to face.

"You scared the shit out of me, Josh!"

"Well, it wasn't my intention." The man, Josh, replied, cupping Gemma's face and kissing her.

"You said we have something to talk about first." She said, pushing him off , using all her strength to resist him and his sharp jawline, dark puppy-like eyes and honey brown skin. And that smile. It was a film star smile if she'd ever seen one. All she wanted to do in that moment was run her hands over his bristly, closely-shaved head and his broad shoulders and his muscular torso and shit, Gemma, she thought to herself.

Stop!

Although smouldering felt to Gemma like a word that belonged in a pre-teen girl's fan-fiction, it was the only word adequate to describe Josh Young; he was bloody gorgeous and she couldn't deny it. However, he wasn't just bloody gorgeous.

He was a bloody gorgeous problem.

The problem in question?

Josh Young had a girlfriend and it certainly wasn't Gemma.

What they were doing both simply and technically, was wrong, and she knew it. It just felt a little less wrong after the amplitude of vodka she'd consumed that night. Gemma could still remember the first time he had acknowledged her presence: it had been on the track one morning. Gemma was a talented runner, and so was Josh; both were Olympic hopefuls. It had been Josh's competitive, if slightly derogatory, behaviour that had first caught Gemma's attention. She knew from the offset that he was seeing a woman called Jade, but he had reputation for being less than loyal and there wasn't a person Gemma knew that wouldn't say he was good-looking. He had once teased Gemma that she would be "just a good a runner" as him "if it wasn't for the oestrogen" to which Alice, who was timing Gemma's laps that day, had raised her eyebrows disparagingly, before scoffing "Arrogant and sexist? What a charming combination.". In spite of Alice's disapproval, however, it kind of turned Gemma on. Peculiarly, him being a complete dick in everybody else's eyes was what drew her towards him. For many mornings on the track, she had observed him from afar, and they'd barely spoken. And that was a scenario that throughout her life, especially since Cleo came into it, Gemma had become accustomed to. But then, it all changed.

She remembered it clearly; She'd been training for an upcoming 400m race at the time. Her hands were spread out on the cold concrete, one leg bent behind the other, head bowed and eyes on the track ahead of her. Her body was inclined towards the ground with her rear raised into the air.