Talent...and what to do with it

Chapter 14: Jess

I woke up with a blinding headache and a smile on my face. Jonah had said he liked me. He had said a whole lot more than that and then he'd kissed me. I knew I should be embarrassed about my stupid outfit and the things I'd said the night before, but at that moment I couldn't bring myself to care. All that mattered was that Jonah liked me. I snuck into the shower before the others woke up and when I came out there was a text from Jonah confirming our date and suggesting a restaurant on Saturday night. I managed to escape from the cabin before the other girls got up. I made sure I had my earphones in and my eyes shut by the time everyone else boarded the coach,. I didn't want to draw any more attention to myself after my behaviour the night before.
I hadn't realised I'd fallen asleep until I woke up as we turned into the school car park. I had even slept through the rest break. As I hugged Amelia, I noticed Jonah watching from the other side of the car park. I wanted him to come over, but I wasn't ready to have to explain to my parents what was going on. But he simply smiled and winked at me, then headed off with his bag over his shoulder.
I was nervous. Should I lie to my parents or risk telling them I was going out with Jonah? I think I knew the answer to that one. After what they had heard about him they were never going to allow me to go out with him. I turned my attention to the other problem. What should I wear? What if he wanted to go to some cool bar afterwards and I made myself look ridiculous?
In the end I told Mum and Dad I was meeting up with some of the girls from school who I'd met on the trip. They seemed surprised but naturally wouldn't suspect me of any underhand behaviour, so they asked no more questions.
By 7.30pm on the night of the date, the zit that had appeared overnight was covered in make-up. I had tried on four different outfits, all of which made me look like I was ten. In the end I opted for a black top and black jeans and Converses. It was kind of Emo, but I thought it would do for dinner and wherever else we might go.
The restaurant was a busy, upmarket pizza chain. The clatter of plates and the chatter of diners filled the large vaulted room. Jonah was sitting at the bar. I took a second to stare at his profile, the long black lashes resting on his cheek as he looked into his beer. He was so handsome and he was waiting for me. Like always, I wondered if this was some kind of practical joke, but I still hadn't spotted any cameras.
I loved the way that as he saw me he broke into that massive grin of his, like I was the most important person in the world. I knew I was smiling back at him though I hadn't had to think about it. That was what he seemed to do to me - he made me forget myself at the same time I was acutely aware of every move he made. Then he hugged me like we were used to touching each other and I had to force myself to step away from him and his gorgeous scent.
"Table for Taylor?" For some reason he thought this was funny and he was holding me so close I could feel the rumble of his laugh before I heard it. We broke apart and I wondered if he felt as dazed as I did while we made our way to the table.
They took our drinks orders and I realized we still hadn't spoken. We'd just grinned at each other. He pushed away a little silver bucket of crayons on the table, still keeping his eyes locked on mine. Somehow I felt brave enough to put my hand on his wrist to stop him and couldn't speak for a second because touching him made it very hard to put words into any kind of sentence. "These are meant to be here. They let you draw on the table cloths here."
His raised eyebrows told me he had noted that I had been here before. He glanced around and took in the other diners doodling away while they waited for their food. "Come on then, draw the best thing you can. Let's make it a competition."
I laughed. "It's always a competition with you, isn't it?"
He shrugged. "When the prize is worth having." He stared at me untiil I blushed. I didn't dare ask what the prize was.
He tapped on the table and I felt slightly panicked – what was the best thing I could draw? Then I realized what I could do and began more confidently. He had already started and wouldn't let me see what he was drawing so I covered my work with my arm too.
"Dud da, dud da, dud-da-da-da. Ping." He impersonated the Countdown clock.
"Aahh, now your secrets are out Jonah Taylor. Closet Countdown fan are you? Thought you were supposed to be cool."
He laughed. "Yeah and remind me to never challenge you to the numbers round."
"Actually I am pretty good at the letters round, too." I retorted and took a second to marvel at this confident, socially adept person I was morphing into.
"OK then, let's see what you drew."
He moved his hands away and I craned round to see a yellowish picture that had been scribbled out and next to it the five Olympic rings. He looked a little embarrassed - an expression I couldn't remember seeing on his face before.
I pointed to the first picture. "What was this?"
"Err –" he did that thing he did when he was unsure, pushing back the ghost of a lock of hair. "It was supposed to be –" He raised his dark eyes to look at me. "It was supposed to be you." He swallowed, "But I thought you'd think it was too cheesy. But you are the best thing I can think of."
I think my mouth fell open. I couldn't believe that this amazing man thought that about the bookish dormouse that was me. He broke the moment before I could speak, "But apart from your hair," he pointed to the yellow fuzz, "I couldn't do you justice - so I drew this instead. Which is just as daft a dream I suppose."
He saw me as a dream? I was overwhelmed, so I used his tactic of changing the subject before I blurted out something silly. "The Olympics? You could easily do it. And if you want me to be there, I would be proud to be cheering you on when you get gold."
"Yeah?" This time it was a slow smile and he reached for my hand. It felt like a surge of electricity as we touched and I know he saw my shocked expression but he just held my hand tighter. "Thanks Jess, I feel like I can say anything to you and you'll get me."
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I knew exactly what he meant.
"So go on then? What did you draw?" He peered at the series of numbers arranged in a triangle. "What is it?"
"The Fibonacci series."
"The what?"
And so I explained about this amazing pattern of numbers and how the same pattern could be found in so many different places in the natural world and he listened like I was the most fascinating person in the world. And still he held my hand while his thumb gently drew circles on my wrist, which would have been impossibly distracting if I had been talking about anything except my favourite topic of all time.
I know our pizzas arrived but I don't really remember much about the taste of the food, or anything apart from the intense way Jonah looked at me and how it felt to be within touching distance of each other.
Jonah spent a lot of time convincing the world (and himself) that he wasn't all that bright, but anyone who spent an evening in his company could tell how wrong he was. He was funny and sharp and he noticed little details like when I hesitated over his suggestions about starters and he got me to admit that I hated garlic. He told me about being on the point of exclusion from his last school and how he was trying not to make the same mistakes again. He told me that his temper used to overtake him but the running helped. He told me that I helped. And he reached for my hand and that touch was all it took to make me feel like my whole body was on fire.
How had it come to this? This boy had got past my defences and now I was exposed and vulnerable. But somehow it didn't scare me like it should have done. I felt safe with him. I felt protected. Maybe I even felt loved.
At dessert he asked why I hadn't let him pick me up from home.
"Errm, well, Dad wouldn't be too happy if he knew I was with you."
He slammed his hand down on the table, but there was laughter in his eyes. "Jessica Mulligan, are you telling me you sneaked out to meet me?"
I nodded, trying not to smile at my deception.
"So what's the story with your dad? First he was really keen for us to train together, but he clearly doesn't like me now..."
"Er, yeah, that's kind of my fault. I sort of let him believe you abandoned me when we went to the gig."
I thought he'd be angry but he wasn't. "Thanks a lot. Maybe I should call round and set him straight about that. But you left because of all the stuff Lauren said, didn't you?"
His candidness made me more open than usual. "I thought you were there with Lauren. I felt like a spare part."
"But I was with you. Not Lauren."
"Yes, but I still felt like I didn't really belong there." I thought about it a minute. "The thing is Jonah, I still don't quite get what it is with Lauren and you. I know now that you weren't going out, but still the pair of you seem awfully...comfortable round each other."
Now he looked down at his plate. "We've known each other for years."
"That's what I don't get. You only just moved here."
"I lived here a while ago for a bit, when my grandad was alive. Lauren and I knew each other then."
I waited for him to say more, but he didn't offer anything up. The Jonah Dad had told me about just didn't match the boy sitting in front of me now. He was so private about his old life and, actually, I didn't really want to know more. I suppose I dreaded hearing the truth because  either Dad was lying to me, or Jonah wasn't who I thought he was.
We ordered coffee that neither of us touched and then he asked me, almost casually, about Cambridge.
"I know you don't like to talk about this, but are you still doing the exam and interview?"
I nodded, feeling suddenly cold. He reached for my hand again and called me back. "Hey I'm sorry, I didn't want to upset you – I just don't get it. Why are you doing something you really don't want to do?"
"I do want to do it." I sounded like a truculent twelve year old.
"Really? Cos you look like you're going to puke every time you even talk about it. You know you could just stay on at school and take your exams at a normal time and go to uni, when everyone else does?"
I nodded. "Yeah I could." Why, when he seemed to get me in so many ways could he not understand this most fundamental thing? I didn't do normal. I wasn't normal. I had to get that place, otherwise...otherwise what was the point? I pretended to think about it as if for the first time and if he doubted me he didn't let on.
He must have sensed it was time to change the subject because he launched into a story about the next race and how the school suspected sabotage by St Wilfred's. He had me laughing in moments and the awkwardness was forgotten.
But if that had been awkward, leaving the restaurant was more so. We had talked longer than we realised, and it was already late, so Jonah insisted on walking me home. Our hands bumped together occasionally as we walked but we weren't comfortable like we had in the restaurant. A million questions went through my head. Had he had as good a time as me? Would he try and kiss me? Would he realize how inexperienced I was? But what if he didn't try and kiss me? What if he'd gone off me?
He took hold of my hand at the end of our street. He bent his head down so he could search my eyes. He looked slightly nervous and I found I was smiling. This big man, who chewed up the track when he ran and laughed at the opposition, who never seemed to doubt himself, who was always confident, was hesitant about kissing me. And so suddenly I wasn't nervous. Apart from that drunken moment on the beach, I had never kissed a boy before, but with his mouth inches from mine I felt like I knew exactly what to do. So I was the brave one who stepped forward a fraction and pressed my lips to his. It had been gentle and soft at first, like a butterfly touch, then I slid my hand up his back and felt those tight muscles and we were pulling each other closer and the kiss was getting hotter and hotter and he was touching my face and stroking my back.
He broke the kiss, shaking his head. "You're amazing Jessica." His voice was husky and I felt weirdly powerful having done that to him.
We walked to my house clasping hands and paused at the door for another kiss, both of us more confident this time, already feeling familiar. We broke apart too soon, neither of us wanted my parents to catch us like this.
He whispered into the night, "I'll text you later, Jessica."