Read Online Chocolate Box Girls: Sweet Honey by Cathy Cassidy - Free Book Online

dishwater kisses.’
    ‘Not all boys are
     dishwater,’ I tell Tara and Bennie. ‘I’ve known a few who were
     pure melted chocolate. They’re the ones that make it all
     worthwhile.’
    I think of Shay Fletcher, who was
     definitely chocolate. There’ve been others since, and I thought that they were
     chocolate too, at the time; most turned to dishwater in the end, like Kes.
    Tara sighs. ‘Wow! Have you kissed
     many boys, Honey?’
    I laugh. ‘Too many. Bennie is
     right – there are plenty of dishwater lads out there. It’s better to wait for
     that first kiss, make sure it’s special.’
    ‘But how will we meet cool boys
     when we’re at an all-girls’ school?’ Tara wails.
    ‘Easy,’ I say.
     ‘They’re everywhere! I bet I can find you some lads once the holidays
     start – the chocolate kind. Meanwhile, I’ll train you up in the art of
     flirting. And we may as well start now …’
    Bennie looks around the beach, frowning.
     An eight-year-old with a cricket bat and a middle-aged man in polka-dot board shorts
     are the only eligible males in sight, but if I narrow my eyes and squint into the
     shady reaches of the beach cafe, I can just about see Ash, the cute waiter with the
     table-cleaning obsession. He might do for flirting practice for Tara and Bennie.
    ‘Chill,’ I tell my friends.
     ‘The first lesson is to ditch the anxiety – boys are not an alien species.
     Well, actually, they kind of are, but that’s OK! You need to understand that
     you are gorgeous, clever, confident …’
    ‘Not me,’ Tara says.
     ‘Any boy comes within a five-kilometre radius and I’m a nervous
     wreck.’
    ‘Not any more,’ I say.
     ‘Last one to the ocean buys drinks all round! Come on!’
    I grab their hands, the way I used to
     years ago with my little sisters, dragging them out across the sand. We hurtle
     forward, schoolbags flapping, the three of us screeching, laughing, howling. The
     day’s rules and regulations peel away and I stop caring about whether I am a
     rebel, a rule-breaker, a no-hope girl … or a newly invented version of
     myself, someone with potential. None of that matters.
    I reach the water’s edge first,
     throwing down my bag, kicking off my shoes and socks. The next moment I am in the
     water, shrieking, splashing, kicking up long plumes of surf. It feels childish,
     exhilarating. ‘Now,’ I announce, knee-deep in the surf. ‘The
     important bit. When I was little, my sisters and I used to make wishes at the
     water’s edge, and they almost always came true. We’re going to make a
     wish too. For sunshine, for friendship, for cool boys and true
     love …’
    I take their hands in mine again, as if
     we are all five years old, pushing down towards the water.
    ‘Hope it works,’ Tara says.
     ‘I’m wishing for that first kiss …’
    Bennie laughs. ‘I’m wishing
     for a chocolate boy.’
    I scrunch my eyes closed and one thought
     flashes across my mind as my hands, twined with Tara and Bennie’s, dip into
     the ocean.
I just want to be happy …
    A huge, icy wave breaks over us and we
     pull apart, screeching, clamouring for the shore. My face is sore from laughing so
     hard and my lips taste of saltwater.
    ‘Honey Tanberry,’ Bennie
     gasps, twirling round on the sand, ‘you are officially crazy! I haven’t
     laughed so much for ages!’
    ‘I am soaked,’ Tara groans.
     ‘I think I swallowed half the bay!’
    ‘You were the last in the water,
     Tara,’ I point out, grinning. ‘You get the drinks. That was the
     deal!’
    ‘No way!’ she argues.
     ‘I’m not going into the cafe looking like this!’
    I look at Bennie. ‘Don’t
     even ask,’ she protests. ‘Look at us, Honey! We’re like drowned
     rats!’
    ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!
     Watch and learn …’
    I shake my hair and smooth down my
     dress, the hem still dripping, and stride across the hot sand to the cafe, my
     schoolbag swinging. Tara and Bennie follow, grabbing up