Page 22 of Unworthy
“Nothing you could say will make me forget what you’ve just said to me. I won’teverforget it. I’ll carry this with me for the rest of my life. What will never ever happen is us becoming a couple. You can shove that idea and your unbelievable arrogance where the sun doesn’t shine.”
“Midge, let’s just talk for a moment.” I took a couple more steps forward, closing the gap between us and lifted my hand to take hers, but she flinched away from me, her head jerking from side to side as she leapt back and slammed her hip against the granite worktop. I winced as her face creased in pain. “Please, Midge,” I said, taking another tentative step forward but stopping as she held a hand up to ward me off. She was reduced to actually warding me off. I didn’t think I’d ever felt like such an unbelievable bastard in my life.
“Get. Out.” Her tears had dried now and her voice was vibrating with anger.
“If you just let me–”
“Get out. Get out.Get out!” Yaz screamed the last so loudly that she went red in the face. I’d never heard her raise her voice before.
“Okay, okay,” I said softly, taking a step back and holding my hands up in front of me in surrender. “I can see you’re going to need some space. We can talk later when you’re– ”
“We willneverspeak about thiseveragain.” She slashed a hand through the air to make her point, as if that could erase what had just happened from existence. “And if you tell my brother or anyone else, I willneverforgive you.” I had a feeling that whether or not I told Max about this, forgiveness was going to be in very short supply from Yaz. I didn’t like the look of her now pale face and tight features. I certainly didn’t want to leave her like this. But I could see that anything I said now was just going to make the situation worse. I needed to leave and regroup so I could assess how I could have possibly fucked this up so utterly. “Now, this is my space. My flat ismyspace. I decide who I let in. If I want you to leave, you leave right fucking now. That is my decision to make, not yours. Understand?”
“Yes, of course.” I moved back towards the door. Keeping my eyes on her as I went. Her mouth was a tight line and her arms were straight down by her sides with her small fists clenched so tightly her knuckles were white. When I finally made it to the front door, let myself out and closed it behind me, I paused in the corridor for a minute. The faint sob I could hear from the other side of the wood tore through me like a knife. What had I done? And how was I ever going to make it right?
Chapter 11
Prettier without it
Fifteen years ago
Yaz
“But I look eighteen!” I whined.
Max took in my outfit and rolled his eyes. “You look eleven. In fact, no, I take that back. You look even younger than eleven with Mam’s make-up on your face.”
It was on the back of that mortifying comment that Heath strolled onto the terrace, closely followed by Verity. The twins were like something out of a magazine: Heath, in his white fitted linen shirt and chinos, had a deep tan and light hazel streaks in his dark brown hair; Verity, with her long white summer dress and glossy dark hair, was his female counterpart – both the male and female sides of the same coin. They looked perfectly at home here in glamorous Saint Tropez, as they should – this house we were all staying in was just another one of their family’s many holiday homes, after all.
“Hey, Midge,” Heath said, smiling at me and then ruffling the hair it had taken me over an hour to tame into what I’d hoped was a sophisticated “updo”. His ruffling reduced it to no more than a messy bun. But that he’d touched my hair was enough to make my month. “You did good today once you got that skinny butt in gear.”
Earlier on at the beach, Heath had taken the time to teach me how to surf. I knew it was just because he felt sorry for me, seeing as I had just been sitting on my own like a sad sack on the sand when he found me that afternoon. I’d been thrilled when Mum and Dad told me we were taking up the offer to stay at Heath’s family villa in Saint Tropez. We’d never gone on a foreign holiday before. But the reality was that Mum and Dad were treating it as some sort of second honeymoon. Max and Verity were only interested in the local architecture and galleries, and there was nobody my age for me to play with. A bronzed, sculpted Heath jogging up to me with a couple of surfboards and offering to teach me had been one of the best moments of my life up until then. And I had impressed him. He’d praised me. I was a strong swimmer, and I’d taken to surfing quickly. He told me I was a natural. In my normal life, nobody really dished out praise to me that often. Academics were not my strong suit (not like they were for Max) and I’d barely scraped through at school. Daydreaming was not something my family considered a skill. So Heath’s teasing praise, his ability to pick me straight up above his head and then chuck me through the air into the water while I giggled helplessly, or to pluck me out of a wave which had sucked me under when I fell off my board, had cemented him as one of the heroes of my life so far.
“Yazmin, darling. What on earth have you done to your face?” Verity was squinting at me. “I’d suggest a slightly more neutral shade at your age.”
I felt my face heat up. This was the only lipstick my mother had.
“Oh shit, sorry,” Verity said in a softer tone. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Listen, maybe I could teach you how to apply make-up. I’ve got some much better–”
“Yaz doesn’t need any of that slap you wear, V,” Heath said, frowning at his sister. “She’s prettier without it.” He gave me a wink, and I nearly melted onto the floor. At eleven, I was only just really starting to have vague feelings about boys. But all of those burgeoning realisations were swamped by the absolute desperate longing I felt for Heath. For someone yet to even have a crush on a boy my age, the feeling was almost frightening in its intensity. In my mind, there was nobody kinder, funnier, more beautiful than him. No boy band member, no movie star, and certainly nobody else I knew in real life.Andhe was training to be a doctor so that he could help people. Could hebeany more perfect?
“Yazmin!” Mum’s voice cut into my thoughts of Heath’s perfection. “Come on, love. We’ll be late for the restaurant.”
“I’m not going, Mum,” I said, setting my jaw at a stubborn angle. “I’m going out with Max and this lot.”
Dad followed Mum out onto the terrace, greeting the others and doing his standard “thank you so much” to Heath and Verity. Dad just couldn’t get over the level of luxury in the villa or the fact that we were staying here for free. His gratitude seemed to make the twins uncomfortable.
“Don’t be ridiculous, love,” Mum said with a nervous laugh. “You can stuff your bra all you want, but you’re still a child – they don’t need you tagging along. You’ll come along with me and your dad.”
I felt heat hit my face as humiliation washed over me. Truth was, at that age I didn’t even need a bra, so, in order to seem more grown up I had worn the one padded bra I’d convinced Mum to buy me in M&S. I was only just realising how transparent that effort was, seeing as I’d been flat as a pancake in a swimming costume all day. My eyes stung and I had to blink back the threatening tears. Max bursting into laughter didn’t help the situation. Even Verity, who was normally so kind in her no-nonsense, posh way, was holding back a smile with little success. But Heath wasn’t laughing or smiling. When I flicked him an embarrassed glance, he was frowning at my mother. His expression softened when he caught my eye.
“Listen, why doesn’t Midge stay with us?” Heath said after a couple of embarrassing seconds had passed. “I don’t fancy another night out, anyway. We can order take-away paella and play Monopoly here.”
“What are you on about?” Max snapped. “We’re meetingpeopleat the club. Remember?” I knew exactly which ‘people’ Max was referring to. I’d seen the ultra glamourous, bikini-clad women they’d been flirting with at the beach. Heath shrugged as if the supermodel who’d been all over him today wasn’t the most beautiful woman he must have seen in his whole life.
“Well, that suits me,” Verity said, flopping down into the padded wicker chair on the balcony. She never seemed to consider men worth the effort, and certainly didn’t have to go out of her way to track suitable ones down.
“We really can’t let you–” Dad said, but Heath cut him off.
