The Turn of a Page

Chapter 1

The Turn of a Page

Chapter 1

            ‘Kerry, what’s in here?’ asked my mum as we moved my stuff into my new room.

            ‘Just bathroom stuff,’ I replied while I was hanging up my clothes in the wardrobe. After about another half an hour I was fully moved in and waved my parents goodbye as they began their two hour journey back home.

            In my new room, up on the first floor, I began wondering through a few boxes to find out where I had put my folders and some wires for my laptop and television; finding them at the bottom under some folded up paper, I started setting my television up and then ordered out my folders properly for my first year in this new school.

            A knock at my door made me jump and I heard someone talking outside. Getting up off my bed and heading over, I listened closely to figure out who it was.

            ‘...yes, everything is fine, dad. Look I’m busy, I’ll call you later.’ It was Baz, my housemate and very close old friend. Opening the door to him with a smile on my face, he smiled back and leant against the wall. ‘Hey, moved in now? Or do you want a hand?’ he asked, with a little smirk on his lips.

            Smiling to myself, with a slight flush on my cheeks, I answered. ‘A little help would be handy.’ And before I knew it, my back was pressed against the wall of my room. The faint click of the door and the lock being set sounded in my ears, while my lips were sealed shut by the strongest kiss he’d ever given me. At first my hands had been flat against the wall with slight shock of how sudden he was, but with a little time and my mind relaxing with every move of his lips on mine, I gradually moved them over his hips onto the small of his back. Naturally, he took that as an excuse to press his whole body against mine.

            ‘Baz!’ shouted up another housemate; too engaged in kissing him back, I could only guess that it was Charlie. ‘Guys!’ In case he came up the stairs knocking on either of our doors (Baz’s room was in the attic, right above me), I moved my hands up his back then onto his chest and pushed him off (or tried to). Moving my head to the side, I whispered, ‘Baz, stop.’

            ‘But, Kez, I haven’t seen you in like three months, if not more.’ He did pull away but when I looked at him, I saw the longing in his eyes.

            Looking down at the carpet, I knew I had to say it. ‘Yes, but your mate is asking for you and I don’t want him coming up while you’re in here kissing me.’ I felt the tension fade in his hands as they lay on my waist. ‘Baz, please go, I won’t get in the way. Besides, I’ve got my folders to sort out still.’ It was true too; I would never make him choose me over his mates.

            ‘Maybe you’re right. I’ll go see what he wants, it could be nothing, just to see what’s new or how my summer went; you know the drill. You want me just call and I’ll be straight up; if not then I’ll see you at dinner.’ And with one last gentle kiss on the lips, he let go, unlocked the door and headed down the stairs. Looking out of the window before I got back to my work, I took a few deep breaths to settle my heartbeat. Had it really only been three months? It felt so much longer, being away from him.

            Downstairs, about an hour or so later, I was sat at the kitchen table eating dinner (it was just a microwaved macaroni and cheese until I’d done some shopping). Baz was sat on the nearest armchair to me (the lounge was open to the kitchen, no door, just an archway) while Charlie was spread out on the two-seater sofa. Finishing up and washing my cutlery, I went over and sat on Baz’s lap; automatically he wrapped his arms about me and mine slid around his chest. Leaning down to kiss his cheek, I began giggling to myself.