Page 40 of Summer, in Between
‘I have one word for you, Paul Lightwood.Jailbait.Mark my words.’Paul’s mother has her finger in the air, her lips pressed.
‘Mum!Relax, there’s nothing happening.I told you.She’s the boss’ daughter.’
‘That’s exactly right, Paul.She’s the boss’ daughter.You remember that.’
‘Calm down, love, they’re all right.Look how happy she makes your son.If he had a tail, he’d be wagging it.’
Paul spots me in the doorway, his face as red as the toilet doll’s gown.
‘I’ll see you later, Mum.Dad.’
‘Nice to meet you both.’I give a strange wave that’s more like jazz hands.
‘You’re welcome any time, love, maybe get this big dickhead to bring you over on Sunday for dinner?What do you say?’
‘That sounds like a plan, Mr Lightwood, thank you.’
‘I told you, none of this Mr Lightwood rubbish.’
‘Okay, thanks, bye.’
Paul practically drags me down the corridor by the hand.
18
‘I’M so sorry aboutthat.’Paul tugs his seatbelt across his torso to click it in.‘I showered as quick as I could.I was in such a rush to get us out of there I’m still wet under these jeans.’
‘No, it was fine, parents are my thing.’I wish I were game to look at how they might be clinging to his thighs.‘Parents love me, all my friends say so.But I don’t know that any of my friends’ mothers have ever called me “jailbait”.That’s a first.’
‘Oh God, I can’t believe you heard that.’He shakes his head.‘That’s just Mum, don’t take it personally.She’s hard work.But now you know why I like hanging around your place so much.Here, let’s get some tunes happening.’
Music fills the car.My legs tucked up under me, I lean against the door, watching the fields fly past the window.His hand keeps the beat of the song, tapping against the steering wheel.
‘I love this,’ I say.‘Who is it?’
He names a band I have never heard of before.‘You like?Your old man would too.They’re on almost every surf movie soundtrack.I saw them live a couple of years ago, they were phenomenal.’
