Read Online The One and Only by Sophie McKenzie - Free Book Online Page B

I was sure we could do all that.
    But Alejandro had been right. It was a massive thing to say I’d give up everything for her.
    For a start there was school. Well, OK. I didn’t care about that.
    Then there were my friends. But, I reasoned, Eve and I could make new friends wherever we went. Just like we could buy whatever stuff we needed, once we had some work.
    And then there was Mum. I chewed on my lip, feeling guilty. She was having such a bad time, coping with Sam. And Chloe had only just gone. Still. That wasn’t my fault . And, OK, so Matt was an idiot. But Mum had friends. Well, she had Trisha, who was a brilliant friend. Mum would be all right, wouldn’t she? It wasn’t as if I wouldn’t let her know I was OK. At that thought I dug into my pocket and checked I’d turned my phone off last night. Mum was likely to call me soon, to try and find out when I was coming home. Or else Ryan would call, wanting to know what was happening. I wondered if Jonno had spoken to either of them; what they might have said.
    God. How long would it be before Jonno tried to call me ? Maybe he already had. Maybe he was trying right now.
    I didn’t want to speak to any of them.
    I glanced down at Eve. She was huddled up beside me again – all fragile with her gorgeous lips and her tight jumper and her amazing legs and . . . Jesus.
    Alejandro had been right about that too. My head was full of sex. It was impossible to see anything clearly other than how much I wanted Eve. I couldn’t disentangle the love from the sex thing – or, if I was honest, either of those feelings from how much of an ego boost it was to know that it was me she’d chosen to run away with.
    Eve fell asleep again, her head lolling against my shoulder. I turned away, trying not to think about it all, staring out of the window as the frosted browns of the Devon fields turned into wilder, rockier Cornwall.

 
9
Cornwall
    We arrived at George’s place at about nine that morning. He lived in his parents’ house – a massive, jumbled pile of worn stone and dark turrets – on a cliff top in the middle of nowhere.
    ‘No one will find you here,’ Alejandro had said. ‘And George’s parents are away all winter.’
    I stared out at the bleak landscape that led away from the house. Beyond the edge of the cliff, the sea raged. Dark waves, tipped with white foam, crashed against the rocks below.
    ‘Is he here on his own?’ I said.
    Alejandro ran his hands self-consciously through his hair. ‘I doubt it. But he knows we are coming. Though no this early.’
    As Alejandro rang on the doorbell, I remembered. It was New Year’s Day. Most people didn’t get up early after New Year’s Eve. Last year I hadn’t got up until twelve. But everything was different then. I hadn’t met Eve. And Dad was still alive. Just. He was in the hospice. We’d gone and visited him that afternoon. He’d been too weak to speak. Suddenly I missed him desperately. Dad would have known what to do about Jonno. He would have understood the position I was in. Better than Mum, I suspected.
    But he wasn’t here.
    No one was answering the door. The wind whipped round the side of the house, salty and freezing – straight off the sea. Eve hugged her jacket round her shoulders and leaned against me.
    Alejandro rang the doorbell a second time.
    After a few minutes the door creaked open. A bleary-eyed guy, about the same age as Alejandro – eighteen or so with dark, shoulder-length hair – shielded his face from the gloomy morning light.
    ‘Bloody hell, Al,’ the boy croaked in an extremely posh voice. ‘’s frigging middle of the night. We only went to bed about five minutes ago.’
    Alejandro rolled his eyes. ‘We have had a crap night, George. And a crap drive. But sorry for disturbing your beauty sleep.’ He marched inside.
    George stepped back unsteadily, as Eve and I followed Alejandro into a dark, wood-panelled hall. It was like some kind of castle – all wood floors and walls,