The To Do List

Four

"Don't you like beer?" Jake says.

He's leaning against the sink in his kitchen and I'm standing too close

to him. I'm doing it on purpose.

"I just fancied some tea."

He shrugs, chinks his beer bottle against my cup, and tips his head

back to swig. I watch his throat as he swallows, notice a small pale scar

under his chin, a thin ribbon from some long ago accident. He wipes his

mouth with his sleeve, sees me staring.

"You OK?" he asks.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

He smiles at me. He has a nice smile. I'm glad. It would be so much

harder if he was ugly.

Half an hour ago Jake and his mate Stoner Boy grinned at each other

as they led me and Zoey into their house. Those grins said they'd scored.

Zoey told them not to make any assumptions, but still we walked into their

lounge and she let Stoner take her coat. She laughed at his jokes, accepted

the joints he made for her and got steadily wrecked.

I can see her through the door. They've put music on, some mellow

jazz number. They've turned off the lights to dance, moving together in

slow, stoned circles on the carpet. Zoey has one hand in the air holding a

joint, the other tucked into Stoner's belt at the back of his trousers. He has

both arms wrapped around her so that they appear to be holding each

other up.

I feel suddenly sensible, drinking tea in the kitchen, and realize I need

to get on with my plan. This is about me, after all.

I gulp my tea down, put the cup on the draining board and move even

closer to Jake. The tips of our shoes touch.

"Kiss me," I say, which sounds ridiculous as soon as I say it, but Jake

doesn't seem to mind. He puts down his beer and leans towards me.

We kiss quite gently, our lips just brushing, only a hint of breath from

him to me. I've always known I'd be good at kissing. I've read all the

magazines, the ones that tell you about nose bumping and excess saliva

and where to put your hands. I didn't know it would feel like this though,

the soft scour of his chin on mine, his hands gently searching my back, his

tongue running along my lips and into my mouth.

We kiss for minutes, pressing our bodies closer, leaning in to each

other. It's such a relief to be with someone who doesn't know me at all. My

hands are brave, dipping into the curve where his spine ends and stroking

him there. How healthy he feels, how solid.