Tybalt and Juliet

My heart sank a little as I pulled into Amy’s driveway on Thursday morning. Her mother’s car was still there; she hadn’t left for work yet. I had a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Amy opened the door to me, greeting me with a kiss on the cheek. “Hello lovely,” she said. “Come in!”

I slipped off my shoes in the hallway and gave Amy a quick hug.

“My mum would like to talk to you,” she said. “It’s OK, you haven’t done anything wrong.” She kissed me again.

I walked slowly into the sitting room. Amy’s mum, Jenny, was sitting in one of the armchairs and motioned for me to sit on the sofa. Memories of my Cambridge interviews came flooding back.

“Hello Jake,” she said calmly.

“Hello,” I replied as I sat.

Jenny took a deep breath. “I went to your school yesterday,” she began, “to talk to your Headteacher.”

I nodded, my heart sinking further.

“I told him about Richard Gasson’s behaviour towards Amy at James Masters’ party,” she continued. “Now the school can’t be held responsible for what happens at a private party off the premises during the holidays, but he did agree that there were some steps that he could and should take, to prevent any complications during the term, especially when the exams are on. I discussed this with Amy last night and she agreed with me that I should also talk to you this morning. I hope that’s OK.”

I nodded again. I had no choice, but to sit and listen.

“I will take Amy to school every morning for the first few weeks of term and she will wait in the administrative office until school opens to everyone else. She’ll eat lunch separately as well. The teachers will all be made aware of what has happened. At the end of the day, either Rob or I will pick her up and she can wait in the administrative office until we arrive.

“Once Study Leave starts, Amy will stay at home unless she has an exam. She’ll sit the exams away from everyone else, and I will take her direct to the exam room and pick her up at the end.”

She paused and took another deep breath.

“The school have agreed, as far as possible, to minimise the amount of time that Richard and Amy are in the same room. Hopefully once Study Leave begins, any possibility that they meet is eliminated.”

I nodded again. Jenny was clearly the sort of lawyer that you wanted on your side, not your opponent’s. I could just imagine our wet Headteacher cowering as she laid out her demands.

“Despite everything I have agreed with your Headteacher,” she continued, “there is a possibility that Amy and Richard will come face to face, without any responsible adults present. That might come as a chance passing in a corridor or perhaps something more sinister. Should that happen and you are around Jake, your job is very simple. You go and get help as quickly as possible and then you leave your teachers to deal with whatever has arisen. That is the limit of your responsibility. You will not try to resolve any issue yourself, take justice into your own hands or try to be a hero. If you do, you will make a bad situation ten thousand times worse.”

I nodded and swallowed. Fuck me she was scary!

“Is that clear?” she asked sternly.

I cleared my throat, “Yes,” I said, “completely clear.”

“I’m sorry if that sounds like I am laying down the law to you,” she said, attempting a smile. “But I am doing this to protect my daughter, particularly in the most important exam term. Believe it or not, I am also doing this to protect you, by trying to make sure that you don’t get caught up in anything and, if you do, making it very clear how you should respond.”

I nodded again.

“Now maybe you think this is a huge overreaction,” she said, looking away from me for the first time. “And maybe you are right. Perhaps this was just an error of judgement by a schoolboy under the influence of alcohol – completely out of character and never to be repeated.” She looked me in the eyes again. “But I can’t run the risk. Teenage boys often respond very badly to rejection and humiliation – unfortunately I deal with the consequences of those reactions on an almost daily basis as a lawyer. That is why it’s important that I think about you as well.”

I nodded. “Thank you,” I said.

“And if Richard or any of his friends try to hassle you or cause you any trouble, then the same applies. You go and tell a teacher as soon as possible. Is that clear?”

I swallowed and nodded.

“Does our Headteacher know about me and Amy?” I asked.

Jenny shook her head. “No Jake,” she replied. “It would not have been fair to either of you to tell him that.”

I looked down, quietly grateful.

“I think for the time being,” she said, “it would be best if you and Amy could keep knowledge of your relationship to yourselves, at least until Study Leave starts. Keeping your heads down and focusing on your exams is the best thing to do, for both of you.”

She stood and I did too.

“Thank you, Jake,” she said, giving me a piercing look. “Now I need to go to work and you need to get on with yours.”

–

Amy was waiting for us in the dining room, pretending to read one of her set texts. She looked up as we entered.

“You weren’t too hard on him were you?” she asked her mother.

“I told him exactly what I said I’d tell him last night,” Jenny replied, “no more, no less. Jake understands that my top priority is keeping you safe and then making sure that the two of you perform as well as you possibly can in your exams.”

Amy said goodbye to her mother and we listened to the sound of the car reversing in the driveway.

Once she was sure that her mum had gone, she threw her arms around me and buried her face in my chest. I brought my hands up and rested them on her back, then kissed the top of her head.

She looked up at me, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Amy,” I asked, “why are you crying? Please don’t cry.”

“But it’s all my fault,” she wailed.

“Running away from someone who was trying to feel you up, or worse, after you’d told him ‘no’ is not something to feel guilty about,” I said. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, nothing to apologise for.”

I held her as she continued to sob into my chest, but inside I was breathing a sigh of relief. I’d been really worried about Amy and Ritchie coming into contact with each other at school. With the exception of Music, he was in all of Amy’s classes, whereas I was in none and often at the other side of the school in the science block.

Although our brief conversation had been fucking terrifying, her mother had actually released much of the anxiety that I’d been feeling as the new term approached. Ritchie could be a vindictive bastard and frankly a bit of a bully (although he did a brilliant job of hiding it from the teachers), and I wouldn’t have put it past him to try to intimidate Amy, especially if I wasn’t around. Now the only thing I’d have to worry about was keeping the peace between Danny and James.

Amy had stopped crying now, but was still holding me tightly.

“Look at me Amy,” I said.

She looked up, her eyes red with tears.

“Amy, your mum is right,” I said softly. “She wants to make certain that you are safe and this is the best way to do that. You and I need to focus on our exams, not worry about where Ritchie is and what he might try to do.”

–

Lauren drove me to James’ house around five in the afternoon. It was the final Saturday of the Easter Holidays and we’d be back at school on the Monday morning. The gathering was mostly for members of the cricket team and I wasn’t entirely sure why I’d been included. Apart from a little running, swimming and a passing interest in England football team matches, sport held no enjoyment for me whatsoever. But of all the team games, cricket was the one that I was most baffled by; how anyone could find a tedious rain dance entertaining was simply beyond me.

I’d originally suggested to Danny that the two of us go out for a curry that evening, but he’d taken a long time to reply and when he did, I was surprised to be rebuffed, almost without explanation. He’d been acting a little strangely since the cast party. I’d hardly seen him over the previous two weeks, despite having promised that we’d revise together over the holiday, but whenever I’d tried to arrange something with him, my texts had either gone unanswered or he’d just said he was busy.

“I’m just a bit worried about him,” I said to Lauren as we pulled up outside James’ house. “It’s not like Danny not to want to meet up. Is he just too embarrassed about the Becky situation and getting drunk at the cast party?” I mused.

“I wouldn’t worry,” Lauren replied. “I’m sure he’s just got some family thing on. You’ll see him at school on Monday, you can catch up then.”

I shrugged. “Do you think his mum found out about me bringing him home drunk?” I persisted. Had Emma blabbed, even though I had warned her not to? Or had he cracked when asked about the cut on his forehead? (There were few grown men who could survive an interrogation from Danny’s mum unscathed, let alone her teenage son.) “Maybe he’s been grounded and is too embarrassed to admit it?” I suggested.

Lauren shrugged. “I’m sure he’s fine. Catch up with him on Monday,” she repeated.

I got out of the car, carrying the bottle of wine that I’d bought for the evening. Then I waved her goodbye and walked purposefully up the path to James’ house.

–

James opened the front door. “Oh, hi Jake, come in,” he said, greeting me. “Thanks,” he said as I handed him the bottle.

“Congratulations on you and Becky,” I said as I hung up my coat. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

James placed his hand on his chin in an effort to hide a slight smirk. “Thanks,” he said. “All started during the play rehearsals. Lots of hanging around waiting for scenes and well, things happened.” He blushed a little.

“Oh, by the way,” he said trying very hard to sound casual, “have you heard from Danny recently?”

Ah, so that’s why I’d been invited. Definitely not here for my cricketing insights.

“I saw him last week a couple of times,” I said. “He’s OK. He was as surprised as I was about you and Becky, but he’ll be fine. We’ll see him at school on Monday,” I repeated Lauren’s phrase back to him.

James nodded. “I just don’t want there to be any awkwardness,” he said, “you know”. He shifted a little uncomfortably.

“It’ll be fine,” I replied. “I don’t think there’ll be an issue, Danny will bounce back soon enough, no problem. And I’ll keep the peace if anything does kick off.”

There, I’d done it. Promised not to pick sides between James and Danny, as well as to pour oil on troubled waters should any tension flare up.

‘I might as well go home now,’ I thought.

–

Despite my misgivings, I did enjoy the party. It was an all-male affair, which I generally disliked, but it was good to be able to catch up with several schoolmates who hadn’t been involved in the play and who I hadn’t really seen socially for the best part of a term, if not longer.

It wasn’t until we’d finished eating, that the conversation turned to the season ahead, the matches to come and the tactics to be tested. I sat politely for ten minutes, listening to animated talk of spin bowling, field settings, inswingers, outswingers, silly mid offs… Then I discretely rose, picking up a pile of dirty plates to take to the dishwasher and walked down the hallway.

“Oh thank you, Jake,” James’ mum said, entering the kitchen and shutting the door behind her. “How are things with you?”

I grunted something non-committal about being busy with exams and working hard at revision.

James’ mum expressed sympathy at the trials and tribulations of an A-level student, noting that everything would be over before long.

“I hear you’re dating Amy Norton,” she said, changing the subject abruptly.

I took a step back in surprise. “What the… how the… uh?” I stammered.

“Her mum told me,” she said.

“Uh?”

“We work together, we’re colleagues at the law firm in town,” she revealed.

“Oh!” I said. I’d known that James’ mum was a lawyer too, but it hadn’t ever occurred to me that she might know Amy’s mum Jenny.

“She asked me about you.” James’s mum was enjoying my discomfort.

“Er, what did you say?” I asked, scenes of my childhood mischief-making with James and Danny flashing through my mind.

“Well,” she said, toying with me, “I said I only knew of two windows that you’d broken…”

“That was Danny!” I protested.

“… and there was the time when the three of you decided to build a bridge over the stream, then fell in and had a week off school with pneumonia.”

I looked down. I had been the prime instigator of that, but it wasn’t my fault that James’ knots weren’t tied tightly enough.

She laughed, nudging me with her elbow. “Relax, I’m teasing you. I didn’t tell her any of that.”

I looked up, relief sweeping across my face.

“I said I thought you were great,” she said, “and that if Amy was my daughter, you’d be the boy out of all of James’ friends that I was happiest for her to date.”

“Really? Er, um, thank you very much,” I stammered, a little embarrassed and slightly bewildered by the confidence she’d shown in me.

“Jenny likes you,” James’ mum continued.

“I’m not sure she does,” I replied, starting to wonder who else knew about our relationship.

James’ mum took a deep breath. “Jake, think about it from Jenny’s perspective. Amy is her only daughter. She’s married again and the two boys are quite a lot younger. She’s bound to feel more than a little protective of Amy. She’s not done this before. It’s hard for any mother to accept that their babies have grown up to be adults, but maybe it’s particularly hard for her. If she seems a little cold, a little wary, it’s not that she doesn’t like you or is trying to catch you out. She just wants the best for her.”

I nodded. Amy’s mum was certainly very protective of her daughter even without the Ritchie incident. Amy’s life seemed to be more sheltered than that of any of my schoolmates; in fact Lauren and I had both had more freedom aged fourteen, than Amy seemed to enjoy now.

“Jenny says that this holiday is the first in at least five years that Amy’s been up and out of bed before nine o’clock more than three days in a row. That’s the positive influence you’ve had,” she revealed, smiling at me.

I blushed. Rob, Amy’s step-dad, had said something similar, but wasn’t it ten o’clock in his version?

“For what it’s worth,” James’ mum said brightly, “I think the two of you make a great couple.”

‘How can you possibly say that?’ I thought. ‘You hardly know Amy!’

“Does James know?” I asked, concerned that news of our relationship was spreading like wildfire without our knowledge.

“No,” she said. “Jenny told me that you were keeping things private for the moment.” She paused. “I’ve got a good idea why you would want to do that,” she looked at me pointedly, “and I respect that and I wouldn’t break your confidence. But it will come out eventually, through no one’s fault. You won’t be able to control it for too long.”

“I was hoping with A levels starting and not being in school much for Study Leave, no one would notice. In a few weeks’ time, we’ll only be going in for exams and they’re over by the middle of June,” I replied.

–

The last Monday of April dawned and with it the start of the Summer Term, my final term of Secondary School. Every emotion swirled through my gut. I felt sick to the pit of my stomach as Lauren drove the two of us through the village and towards the town. I really wasn’t looking forward to the months ahead. Our exams would start three weeks later, but the associated pressure, coupled with the Amy-Ritchie and Danny-James ‘complications’, made me more than a little nervous.

I briefed Lauren on my strategy for my unofficial peacemaker role in the Danny-James-Becky ‘love triangle’ and explained that we were unlikely to see very much of Amy at all.

“What are you doing about the Prom?” she asked.

“I don’t really know,” I admitted.

“Will your little secret be out by then?” she teased.

I hesitated. “I’m not sure,” I admitted, giving her a slightly irritated look. “I was hoping that we’d be able to keep the whole thing under wraps for our final term, especially as we’ll only be in school for exams for most of it, but it would be nice to take Amy to the Prom as my girlfriend.”

‘Ritchie might even have found someone else to prey upon by then,’ I thought.

“When do the tickets go on sale?” I asked. “It’s later this week, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s Friday morning, I think,” Lauren replied. “Have you thought who you’d have on your table for the meal?”

“Not really,” I said. “The obvious people are James and Becky, Stijn and Rachel, and then maybe Ian and Olivia, plus the two of us, of course, and that makes the full eight. But then there’s Danny – I suppose he’d be on his own then.”

“Would James and Stijn be offended if you weren’t on a table with them?” she asked.

“I don’t think so,” I said slowly. “Stijn really doesn’t care about that sort of thing anyway and James might prefer to sit with the rugby team instead. It’s only for the first hour and a half anyway, isn’t it? It won’t matter for the disco which table you’ve been on.”

“How about we put together a table of nerds?” she suggested. “People who look like they’re sitting together because they haven’t got a date? Then no one will suspect anything if you and Amy are next to each other.”

“Go on,” I said, sensing where Lauren was headed.

“So, you and Amy, maybe Danny and me, to start?” she suggested.

I nodded. I was sure that Danny would have mended fences with James by the start of July, but it was still unlikely he’d want to be on a table with Becky.

“OK. There’s Nick as well – he still doesn’t get on that well with James,” I said, recalling the blazing argument that had led to the premature demise of our band, the Jinjos.

“And Frankie split up with Ross back in January, so she’s another possibility,” Lauren replied. “Ross will almost certainly go on a rugby table anyway.”

Francesca, or Frankie as we’d always called her, was a good choice. She’d played the Nurse in the play and most of her scenes had been with Amy. She should never have gone out with Ross; he was, to put it mildly, a first-class shit and the gossip was that he’d cheated on her with a one-night-stand he’d met clubbing on New Year’s Eve. The incident had reverberated around the school for weeks afterwards. Throughout it all, Frankie had maintained a quiet dignity, although it was obvious that she was hurting badly inside. She hadn’t deserved any of what had happened, but she’d worked through it with the support of several close friends, including Lauren.

“That’s good, I like Frankie,” I said. “And Amy knows her well. I’m sure we’ll find two other nerds from somewhere else! Let me talk to James in Maths today. I’ll ask Amy when I see her after horse riding on Thursday.”

“Horse riding on Thursday?”

“Yes, she’s going to have some lessons with Jackie at the Stables,” I explained. “I’m going to pick her up after she’s done and then we’re going for a romantic walk together.”

“Ahhh, that’s sweet,” Lauren teased. “Jake’s in love!”

–

The new school term began with a repeat performance from our Headteacher of his ‘consent’ talk from the start of the year, reiterating that when someone (of any gender) says ‘no’, they really do mean ‘no’. Of course I, along with only two other people in the school hall that morning, was aware of the events that had led to this message being delivered again, but fortunately I couldn’t see either Amy or Ritchie from where I was sitting.
After assembly, I was collared by our music teacher Mr Lane, who wanted to know if I’d be willing to perform with Amy again at the end of term concert. That was a school event that I’d been hoping to avoid, but agreed to do it if Amy did as well.

As I’d promised Lauren, I caught up with James on the first day to ask him about tables for the Prom. Far from being unhappy that I was proposing to sit (with Danny) in a different group to him, he confided that he was relieved that I’d brought the matter up. Apparently, Becky had talked non-stop since the cast party about seating plans and removing Danny and myself from the equation (and onto a table of apparent singletons) made things a lot simpler.

In fact, Becky was not the only one in our year group to have spent the Easter Holidays obsessing over the Prom. The Parent Teacher Association had made the mistake of sending out the email about the event on the Monday after the end of the previous term, which had provided the perfect distraction for anyone wanting to put off the start of their revision during the holidays. Chatter in the school corridors was all of who was likely to ask whom to accompany them and how couples should group themselves into tables for the meal.

The Danny-James ‘thing’ was easier to handle than I’d expected. The three of us were taking Biology and Chemistry together and, so long as I made sure I talked to both equally, things were OK. (Lauren was in Biology with us too, so could be called upon if back up were necessary.) James and I also had Maths and Physics together, whereas Danny was on his own for Geography. He tried to avoid talking to James if he could, but it wasn’t as if they were at each other’s throats if interaction was necessary.

–

I had been a little surprised that Amy’s mum had agreed to let her daughter have horse riding lessons. The response that I’d expected was that Amy should wait until her exams were over in mid-June, but perhaps Jenny had recognised her virtual prisoner status and though it wise to give her an outlet once a week. But maybe also she was realising that Amy was now an adult and at liberty to spend her money on whatever she wanted.

In the end, Amy asked me not to secure a discount with Jackie at the Stables, partly because she didn’t want to be known there as ‘Jake’s girlfriend’, but also to avoid any complicated explanations to her mum.

I hung around the entrance to the Stables at the appointed time as casually as I could, waiting for Amy to appear after her first lesson. I have to admit I was feeling nervous again, both hoping that it had gone well, but also that she wouldn’t say ‘no’, to accompanying me to the Prom!

Although I’d been forbidden from observing the lesson (or cheering her on from the sidelines), I had been watching Amy as she rode around the sandy arena at the rear of the Stables. I was walking across the fields at the time, some distance away, but her posture looked good and the horse did at least appear to be doing what she wanted!

As I’d anticipated, Amy emerged from her lesson considerably later than planned, but the sight of her walking up the road away from the Stables in her tight jodhpurs, with the widest smile on her face, more than made up for it.

As soon as she reached me, she took my hand and dragged me off the footpath, behind a large hawthorn bush. She threw her arms around me and pulled my lips down to hers, thrusting her tongue into my mouth.

“Oh Jake,” she gasped with delight. “I’ve missed you so much. We haven’t kissed in ages!”

I felt my cock stiffening as her small frame and pert breasts crushed against me. I let her hold me for a few seconds as her hands slipped down my back to squeeze my butt.

“Come on,” I said. “I’ve got a surprise for you!”

“Oooh,” Amy replied, her eyes shining. “I like surprises!”

The two of us struck out across the fields towards the millpond, with Amy taking my hand in hers as soon as she judged that we were a safe distance away from prying eyes. It took around a quarter of an hour or so to reach the jetty where our rowing boat was moored. Amy talked non-stop the whole way about her riding lesson; it was wonderful to see her so animated and enthusiastic.

I fetched a blanket from the Fishermen’s Hut and spread it out on the bank overlooking the millpond for the two of us to sit down. Amy looked around expectantly for her surprise. I wasn’t entirely sure what to do next, and I had vaguely considered going down onto one knee, but I decided that would probably be excessive.

“I have a question to ask you,” I said, hearing the nerves in my own voice.

She looked up at me anxiously.

“Would you do me the honour of going to the Prom with me as my date?”

Amy squealed with delight and threw her arms around me, kissing me on the cheek.

“Oh Jake,” she cried, “of course I will. I’d love to. Thank you, I’m so happy.”

I told Amy about the ‘table of nerds’ that Lauren and I were trying to put together, explaining how we were trying to look like a group who were sitting together because they didn’t have dates, and that this would allow us to make our relationship public at a time of our own choosing. Amy nodded and agreed that was a good idea.

I stood up. She looked at me. “Are we going already?” she asked surprised. “Can we just sit here for a little while longer? I’ve hardly seen you all week, I’ve missed you!”

“It’s OK,” I said, “I just need to get something.”

“Oh,” she said.

“But,” I teased, “if you don’t want the second half of your surprise, that’s fine, I can stay here!”

Amy brought her finger up to her chin, pursing her lips as if pretending to think hard.

“OK,” she said. “I’ll let you go, as long as you come straight back.”

I walked a few paces to one of the large oak trees that grew along the side of the bank and reached behind it, bringing out the small bouquet of red roses that I’d hidden there an hour earlier.

“Oh Jake, they’re lovely!” Amy gasped, accepting the flowers from me and kissing me on the cheek.

“I just wanted to thank you for being such an amazing, beautiful girlfriend,” I said. “And I’m so excited about taking you to the Prom.”

We lay on our sides on the blanket and looked deep into each other’s eyes, as I gently stroked her cheek. Then she pushed me gently onto my back and laid her head on my chest. I kissed the top of her head as she snaked her hand under my top and gently stroked the ridges of my abs.

“I love you Jake,” she said. “And I love this chest!” She kissed me through the fabric of my sweater.

“I love you too Amy,” I replied.

–

“So, what did she say?” asked Lauren impatiently, as I drove the two of us to school on the Friday morning.

“Who say?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

“Amy, what did she say about the Prom?”

“Oh that,” I replied, teasing her.

“Well go on, what did she say?” she asked, exasperated.

“Yes, she’s wants to go with me and she’s happy to be on a table of nerds,” I said, half-dreading the barrage of instructions that I knew Lauren was about to issue.

“Great,” she said. “Can you talk to Danny and Nick today and I’ll ask Frankie?”

I nodded. “What are we going to do about the other two spaces?” I asked.

“I was thinking Derek and Libby,” she said.

I rolled my eyes. Derek and Libby were the two shyest people in our year group. Lauren had been convinced for as long as I could remember that the two were destined to be together, but neither had plucked up the courage to make the first move. I, on the other hand, suspected that if anything was likely to happen between them, it would have happened already. Still, they’d be a safe bet, as neither would have committed to a table yet.

“So you’re going to talk to Libby and you want me to talk to Derek?” I asked.

“Well actually I thought it would be nice if Derek was the one to ask Libby,” Lauren replied mischievously.

“OK,” I said sceptically, “how do we engineer that?”

“Well,” she replied, “now that you’re an expert, I thought you could talk to him and pass on a few tips.”

I rolled my eyes again. Getting together with Amy had scarcely been a textbook manoeuvre, although Lauren was unaware of the circumstances. I flippantly wondered whether I could persuade Ritchie to make a pass at Libby and then send Derek into action to defend her honour. But Derek wouldn’t say ‘boo’ to a goose, let alone the Head Boy.

“I’m not an expert,” I scoffed. “I’ve only been going out with Amy for three weeks!”

“I’m sure someone with your brain can figure it out,” she said.

I grimaced and gripped the steering wheel more tightly, grudgingly admiring the way that Lauren had roped me into her scheme before placing the most difficult task on my shoulders.

–

Within half an hour of arriving at school, Lauren had sent me a message to say that Frankie had agreed to join our table. By chance, Nick and Danny were having lunch together and it was straightforward to persuade them to sign up too, although I suspected that my task might have been a little harder, had I approached them individually. (I’d been half-expecting Nick to tell me that he had no intention of going.) Neither raised an eyebrow when I mentioned Amy’s name, but I noted that Nick looked pleased when I said that Frankie would be with us!

I managed to corner Derek in the school library about half an hour later. He seemed surprised and genuinely pleased that I’d suggested he join us for the Prom, but needed a little reassurance that the others on the table weren’t going to pick on him.

“That’s really great, so we’re seven at the moment, so we need one more,” I said. “Preferably a girl,” I added, hoping to nudge him in the right direction. I furrowed my brow, pretending to mentally scroll through the list of girls in our year group who were both single and qualified as ‘nice’ by Derek’s criteria. “Can you think of anyone?” I asked innocently.

Derek followed suit, giving his best impression of thinking hard. I was about to give up on him, when he spoke.

“How about Libby?” he asked, looking anxiously up at me, hoping his choice would meet with my approval.

“What a good idea!” I exclaimed enthusiastically, as a wave of relief swept over me. “Tell you what, why don’t you ask her next lesson?” I asked.

Derek looked even more hesitant. “It’s OK,” I reassured him. “I’ll be there too – I’ll be your wingman.”

The bell sounded the ten-minute warning. Derek smiled thinly, and looked even more anxious than usual.

“It’ll be fine,” I reassured him. “The worst that can happen is she says no!”

–

I reported back to Lauren as the two of us drove back to the farm after school. Libby had been over the moon to be asked to join our table of nerds for the Prom. I’d made sure that Derek had been the one to actually ‘pop the question’ and, although I’d prepared the ground, had downplayed my role for Lauren’s benefit.

“There you go,” she said, delighted by the success of her scheme. “I knew you could do it.”

“That’s the last time I get roped into playing matchmaker,” I replied. “And no, I’m not setting Danny up with anyone.”

“I’ve been working on that already,” she replied, with a secretive smile.

I rolled my eyes. “Well you’re on your own there!” I said.

Lauren gave a quiet chuckle. “So what are you up to this weekend loverboy?” she asked.

“I’m going over to Amy’s at nine tomorrow for a revision sesh,” I said, “and then we’re going to go see a film after lunch.” (We’d deliberately decided to go to the cinema in the neighbouring town to reduce the chances of being spotted.)

“Snogging in the back row?” she enquired.

“That’s for me to know and you to never find out,” I replied. “Oh, and I was supposed to be hanging out with Danny in the evening, but he’s cried off. Some family thing he’d forgotten about apparently.”

“Oh, so can I use the car tomorrow night?” she asked, a twinkle in her eye.

“Yeah, if you like,” I replied. “What are you up to?”

“That’s for me to know and you to never find out,” she grinned, repeating my words back to me.

–

Compared to the Easter Holidays, I saw very little of Amy during the first few weeks of term. She spent her breaks and lunchtimes alone in the administrative office at school and we didn’t share any lessons. It required a fair bit of adjustment to go from being with her, generally on my own, for at least three or four hours most days, to a couple of evenings a week and a day each weekend. Of course, we’d phone and text each other, but it wasn’t the same.

April turned to May and I allowed myself to become perhaps a little nostalgic. Our teachers started to count down the number of lessons remaining, in some cases to pressure us into working harder, but for others it was a chance to reflect on and celebrate the journey that we’d been on over the past two years of our A level courses.

It was interesting to see the way that my fellow students were dealing the stress of the exams ahead. Clearly discussion of the Prom had provided a temporary distraction, but as the weeks progressed, we grew closer, hunkering down against the coming storm. Perhaps some of us were hoping for a stay of execution, but I for one was impatient, tired of waiting for them to begin.

Our exams would take place over a five-week period, the middle week of which was the end-of-May Half Term Holiday. We’d only be expected to be in school if we had an exam and, although the library and Sixth Form Centre would be open to us, the teachers were keen to discourage us from hanging around and distracting other students.

Our lessons would finish on the first Friday in May and then we were given an entire week of ‘Study Leave’, when we were supposed to revise at home, but our teachers would be available to consult if we wanted. The idea was that, with just over a week to go before the start of exams, each student would have different priorities and areas that they wanted to work on, so it was impossible to teach everyone together as a group.

–

So our final Friday of lessons arrived. All one thousand students, aged from eleven to eighteen were ushered into the Sports Hall first thing that morning, for the big farewell to our year group. Other than the Prom, it would be the last time that we’d all be together. There were a few of us getting a little emotional but, as we’d be back at school for exams at different points over the next month, it wasn’t as if we were truly leaving on that day.

The school assembly was supposed to be an opportunity to wish the Upper Sixth well in our university courses and future careers and to thank us for our contribution to the school over the past seven years. It should have been a happy occasion, but I was dreading the half hour ahead. My heart sank further when I saw Ritchie’s mum sitting next to her son, the Head Boy, at the front of the Sports Hall. ‘What the fuck is she doing here?’ I thought.

True to form, our Headteacher’s speech began with a retrospective on the school’s sporting year. Apparently our rugby teams had hospitalised more of their opponents in a single season than ever before (a momentous achievement in the school’s history) and the girls’ hockey team had dispatched a similar number for emergency dental surgery. It was going to be an excellent cricket term too, with high expectations that we would demolish schools from far and wide.

Many sportsmen (and yes, even some sportswomen) at various stages of their school careers were identified for praise; Ritchie received the first of his many plaudits – apparently he’d broken some high jump record and had only just missed getting onto the county athletics team. It was a shame that brown-nosing wasn’t an Olympic sport, I thought, he’d have had no trouble being selected for the national side.

Then it was on to the cultural and artistic life of the school. Our Headteacher had been amazed at the talent on display in the end-of-term concerts, so amazed in fact that he couldn’t remember to mention a single performer that had caught his eye. But he did congratulate Mrs Slater on an excellent production of Romeo and Juliet, remarking on Ritchie’s role as the dashing leading man. I was a little incensed that Amy was not recognised for her portrayal of the Capulet ingénue, but I bit my tongue.

There were a few high-achievers from the lower years who were given a name check: a twelve-year-old chess whizz who was on course to be a grandmaster; a genuinely very talented artist in the Lower Sixth (whom I liked and respected) who’d won a regional portrait competition; and finally the debating team, who’d finished in a ‘very strong’ fourth place in the local heats, but hadn’t progressed to the national finals.

Then it was on to Mrs Gasson, the grande dame herself, who was thanked for bullying the other mothers and fathers as Chair of the Parent Teacher Association for five of the preceding seven years. She’d raised enough money in that time to buy a minibus and miscellaneous items of sports equipment. And we were all looking forward to the Prom that she was taking credit for organising. We all clapped dutifully as she was presented with an enormous bouquet of flowers, which very nearly hid her double chins.

Next there was a message for us, the departing Upper Sixth (one incidentally I’d heard every year for the past six years), wishing us well for the world beyond, telling us how fondly we’d remember our time at school and highlighting the important values that had been instilled in us that we’d take forward for later life. Too many students had received offers for university (conditional on A level results) for him to mention, but I was forced to briefly suspend my cynicism when I was congratulated on being the first student from the school in three years to get into either Oxford or Cambridge. (I quietly savoured the sight of Ritchie and his mother turning a little green when my name was read out.)

Then it was a thank you to the school prefects, each of whom were called to the front to receive a pen inscribed with the school’s crest. Next the Head Girl, Anna, who was also sitting at the front of the hall (without either of her parents). I liked Anna a lot, she was a genuinely nice person, who’d put up with a lot of crap from Ritchie that year (he’d even tried to hit on her before turning his sights on Amy). She’d be going up to Newcastle to study Biochemistry come September.

Finally the Head Boy himself was praised to the rafters for his inspirational co-leadership of the student body. It was interesting to compare the reactions of the different year groups to Anna and Ritchie. Any student in the bottom three years (up to the age of fourteen) would have applauded a donkey wearing a Head Boy badge and the junior year groups were clearly oblivious to the fact that Ritchie was in fact a massive bell-end. The majority of the students in the next three years were enthusiastic supporters of him but, after seven years, too many of us in the Upper Sixth had been kicked in the head as he’d climbed the ladder. Whilst our appreciation of Anna was heartfelt and genuine, our applause for the Head Boy was not, and I thought I might even have heard a few boos.

Finally, it was all over and we trooped out of the Sports Hall again. I looked at the time on my phone. ‘Forty fucking minutes this year,’ I thought. ‘And we’ll be ten minutes late for our final ever Biology lesson.’

–

That afternoon, we filed out of the science block after our last Physics class. We were done with school and were ready for a pint.

There were only ten of us (we really were the hard-core science geeks) but, to my surprise, everyone had been persuaded to come to the pub. James and I had cooked up the idea for our little outing the night before, and I’d had to separately promise Libby and Derek that I’d buy the round, as neither had brought cash with them that day. In fact that was another one of Lauren’s schemes, she’d only agreed hang around to pick me up later on the condition that I slipped Derek enough money to enable him to purchase Libby a drink!
As I’m sure you can imagine, A level physicists with their first exam less than ten days away, are not the most exciting group individuals, but none-the-less it was an enjoyable hour-and-a-half.

I sat down next to James with my beer.

“What are you planning to do next week for Study Leave?” he asked.

“I was going to work at home in the mornings and then go to the town library after lunch,” I said. (This was a lie, I’d be at Amy’s house in the mornings.) “What about you?”

“I might do the same,” he said. “Mum’s not very happy with me spending so much time with Becky,” he sighed. “She thinks she’s distracting me.”

“Is she right?” I asked.

“Yeah, probably,” he admitted. “She came round quite a lot over Easter and I went over to hers a fair bit and well,” he looked slightly embarrassed, “I’m sure you can imagine.”

I nodded. No fear of Amy and me getting carried away.

“Can we buddy up again?” he asked. “Like we did back in February, working in the library in town? It’s the afternoons really,” he added candidly. “We start fooling around after lunch and then…” his voice trailed off.

“OK,” I said. “Let’s meet there at two o’clock every day next week and if either one of us is late, we have to buy the other a cup of tea at four. How about that?”

James rolled his eyes. “How did I know you’d want a financial penalty clause?” he said.

We finished our drinks and Lauren messaged to say she was ready to pick me up. I bade farewell to James and the other eight students, then picked up my coat and school bag. As I left I looked back at the group. Derek and Libby were locked deep in conversation with one another, oblivious to everyone around them.

‘Maybe Lauren was right,’ I thought.

–

To my surprise Amy’s mum, Jenny, was not only happy for me to spend a fair amount of time with her daughter during the exam period, in fact she positively encouraged me to do so. I think she hoped to revive the revision schedule that Amy and I had developed over the Easter Holidays, but since Rob and the twins wouldn’t be around, she did impose a few additional conditions, (including that I wasn’t allowed upstairs).

I’d been together with Amy for about a month by the time Study Leave started and, whether it was because she and Rob had got to know me in that time, or that she’d been reassured by James’ mum’s assessment, Jenny had warmed to me and had ostensibly begun to view me as a positive influence on her daughter.

In fact, she needn’t have worried at all, as the two of us hadn’t indulged in any sort of sexual activity since the Easter Holidays. For the first two weeks of the Summer Term Amy and I were not on our own for long enough to initiate anything then, once Study Leave had begun, the stress of our approaching exams was remarkably effective in suppressing our libidos. Of course, there was some kissing and cuddling, but removing clothing was out of bounds. I think we both realised that if we were to start undressing each other, then our self-discipline would be irretrievably lost. The unstated threat that her mother might make another ‘unplanned’ trip home from work to pick up ‘forgotten’ papers, also hung over us.

Spending most weekday mornings with Amy required coordination with Lauren. I’d been expecting her to want to stay at home at the farm, unless she had an exam, but instead she insisted on driving me to Amy’s house, before taking the car on elsewhere. She was always a little cagey as to what she was getting up to each day, sometimes she had an exam, but other times when I tried to question her she’d say she was revising ‘with friends’ and then abruptly changed the conversation back to Amy and me.

After lunch with Amy, I’d walk to the town library to meet James, where the two of us would work for a couple of hours, before a half-hour tea break at the café round the corner. It did feel a little strange for the two of us to be together without Danny, but it enabled us to focus on Maths and Physics, which were the two subjects we were least confident in.

As the exams approached, I noticed a change in Amy. I could tell that she was getting nervous. She became a lot quieter, less likely to initiate conversation with me and the teasing banter which we’d started to develop over the Easter Holidays faded a little. But once or twice a day, she’d talk at length, almost non-stop about some trivial non-academic matter, as if making up for her reticence.

To be honest, it was a bit of a challenge for me to work out exactly how best to support her over the first half of the term. Asking her about her revision or exams was impossible, partly because I was a sciences student and her subjects were arts and humanities, but also because she really didn’t want to talk about them. On the days when neither she nor I had a morning exam, I’d spend three or four hours at her house, working alongside her in the dining room and my presence seemed both to reassure and motivate her.

In the afternoons, I’d be in the town library with James and others and this seemed to give both Amy and I sufficient space to prevent our relationship from becoming claustrophobic. We’d speak on the phone every evening around nine and I’d spend one day each weekend with her, most often down at the farm, to give us both a change of scenery and some fresh air.

It’s easy to look back now and project an image of youthful confidence onto my eighteen-year-old self, but I think I was nervous too. I had seven exams in the ten weekdays before the Half Term holiday at the end of May, but the hardest ones would all be in early June. There was a nasty Pure Maths paper right at the start, but then there was a block of Biology and Chemistry, which were my strongest suits. The papers themselves were neither easy nor difficult, which I took as a sign that I was neither overconfident nor underprepared. Nevertheless, as the Half Term holiday approached, I was ready for a break.

–

I’d booked tickets for the two of us to see an evening concert in London on the Friday before the Half Term holiday, as neither Amy nor I had exams that day. I’d been a little worried that Amy’s mum would prevent us from going, but around the same time it transpired that she’d managed to secure a late deal for the same weekend for her, Rob and the twins at an outdoor holiday activity centre in East Anglia, a few hours’ drive away. She’d offered Amy to chance to go along too, and even to bring me (the chalet could sleep up to six apparently), but her daughter had declined and was allowed to spend the weekend alone with me instead!

And so, on the Friday morning before the Half Term holiday formally began, Lauren dropped me off at the end of the driveway (she’d be going into school that afternoon for a geography exam). It wasn’t a huge surprise that Amy’s mum answered the door.

“Come in Jake,” she said, giving a quick smile as she glanced at the bunch of flowers in my hand. “Let me help you with your bags. Amy’s in the kitchen.”

She reached down and picked up the holdall with my sleeping bag and air mattress and placed it beside the front door. I entered, dropping my overnight night back next to the coat stand and walked down the hallway to the kitchen.

Amy was slicing tomatoes on a chopping board for our picnic, but as soon as I entered, she set down the knife and flung her arms around me. She kissed me lightly on the lips and I presented my bouquet.

“Oh Jake,” she said. “They’re beautiful! I love sunflowers.” She took them from me and placed them on the working surface, unwrapping them from the cellophane.

Amy’s mum hovered behind me, not quite sure how best to enter the conversation. “Would you like a cup of tea Jake?” she asked.

“Oh yes please,” I replied. “I never refuse a cup of tea!”

She walked over to the kettle, switching it on and then took out a glass vase for her daughter.

“How are your exams going Jake?” she asked.

“I think they’re going OK,” I replied. “But most of the difficult ones are after Half Term. The hard Maths one was fine though.”

“Were you worried about it?” Amy’s mum asked, “the Maths?”

“It’s my weakest subject,” I replied, “but I did work on it a lot, so it should be all right.” Gosh, that sounded a bit cocky, I thought to myself.

“Look Mum!” Amy cried in delight holding up the vase with my flowers. “Aren’t they stunning!”

“Yes, beautiful,” her mum agreed, carrying two steaming mugs of tea over to the kitchen table. “Sit down Jake.”

Amy and I sat opposite each other at one end of the table, her mum sitting down between us.

“Listen,” Amy’s mum said. “I wanted to talk to you both together.”

I swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous.

“As you know,” she said, “Rob, the boys and I are off to East Anglia for the weekend.”

Amy and I nodded.

“We will be back on Monday after lunch.” She looked at me. “Amy tells me that she has invited you to stay for a couple of nights.”

I nodded again.

“Now I’m happy for you to stay Jake, but there are some rules that I want you both to abide by.” She looked at Amy before continuing, “Firstly Jake sleeps downstairs.”

“Mum,” Amy protested, “you’re embarrassing me!”

“Jake sleeps downstairs in the sitting room,” Amy’s mum reiterated. “Secondly, if the two of you go anywhere in Jake’s car, you are not to drink any alcohol whatsoever. Thirdly, once we are back, revision starts again. Is that understood.”

I nodded vigorously. “Yes, of course.”

“Mum,” Amy protested again, “you know Jake wouldn’t put me in danger or try to lead me astray!”

“I’m more worried about you distracting Jake than the other way round,” her mum replied wryly. “Just don’t get carried away, you still have exams ahead.”

–

We ate our picnic lunch, later that day, in Hyde Park in the middle of London and afterwards walked hand-in-hand up the Mall towards Trafalgar Square, before continuing on to Covent Garden. Amy and I had been together for a little over a month and this really was the first time that we’d held hands in a public place. We’d gone to a lot of effort to keep our relationship private and it felt liberating to be able to walk through the city as a couple, with no one giving us a second glance. I had a strange sense of pride that I was able to show to the world, if not my schoolmates, that Amy was my girlfriend.

Throughout the day, Amy seemed gripped by a child-like excitement. Although she’d been to the capital several times before, it was always with the school or with her step-brothers in tow, which meant using trains and the tube to get around. It seemed a genuine revelation to her that many of the major city landmarks were in fact well with walking distance of each other. Her phone was out constantly to take photos of almost everything we encountered. That was one big difference between us, I really wasn’t a photos guy at all. I couldn’t really understand why some of my friends insisted on chronicling every moment of their mundane lives on social media. Surely it was better to focus on having a good time and to keep the resulting happy memories, rather than stopping every few seconds to take an instantly forgettable picture?

–

Amy leaned against me as the train gently rocked us home.

“I’ve had such a lovely day,” she said. “I really like spending time with you. It’s been so nice not to have thought about exams at all.”

“Me too,” I replied. “It’s like we’ve run away from everything today.”

“Had you been to London on your own before?” she asked.

“Not entirely on my own,” I replied, “but as a two or three with Danny, James and Stijn a few times, yes.”

My phone buzzed, it was a message from Lauren.

‘I’ve dropped the car for you at Amy’s,’ she’d written. ‘I’ve posted the keys through the letterbox.’

I was surprised. Lauren had wanted to take the car back to the farm earlier in the evening and then she’d said she’d drive it to Amy’s the next day. But if the car was now in town, how was she going to get home? I shrugged. Maybe she was staying with one of her friends.

‘Thanks,’ I texted back. ‘When do you need it on Saturday?’

Lauren’s reply came almost instantly. ‘Change of plan,’ she wrote. ‘I don’t need it again until next week.’

“That’s good,” I said to Amy. “Lauren’s dropped the car off already, so we can make an early start tomorrow.”

Amy turned her head and eyed me with suspicion. “How early is early?” she asked. “I know what you’re like, Jake – we’ll be up at crack of dawn.”

“Riding’s always best first thing in the morning,” I said. “It’s cooler for the horses, especially with weather like we had today. Let’s try to get to the Stables at nine.”

“But we’re supposed to be on holiday,” she protested.

“Sounds like a lie-in to me,” I teased.

–

I was looking forward to going for a hack on the Saturday morning. By all accounts Amy had made pretty good progress in her riding lessons, and the Half Term holiday seemed to be a good opportunity to get her out into the open countryside, to give her confidence a boost if nothing else.

I’d agreed with Jackie, the owner of the Stables, that Amy could use the same horse that she’d been riding for her lessons and I’d ride the larger of the two horses that my family owned. Of course, that meant effectively revealing to Jackie that Amy was my girlfriend, adding her to the small list of people ‘in the know’, not that I was worried about her telling anyone.

Although she’d made a bit of a fuss about being anxious at leaving the relative security of the Stables and striking out into the countryside, it was clear that Amy was naturally comfortable in the saddle. I let her set the pace and, when there were no other animals around, we managed a rising trot across the farm fields. We took the bridle paths at a slow walking pace, crossing to the other side of the valley and climbing the hills under thick tree cover.

We tied the horses to a tree and ate lunch sitting on the grassy bank overlooking the millpond, watching as a mother duck led her brood across the calm water.

Flushed with the success of her first cross-country horse ride and our adventures in London the previous day, Amy was happier than I’d ever seen her before. For my part, I was happy simply to see her happy, even managing to force a smile for the four thousandth photo. Being able to observe her in her tight jodhpurs all day, especially as she bent over the open cool-bag to retrieve food or drink, was simply a bonus!

–

Having returned the horses to the Stables, we wandered back across the fields to the millpond again. Amy insisted on rowing us as I sat in the stern of our little boat. It wasn’t strictly necessary for me to take my top off, but I was hoping that the sight of me bare chested (for the first time in five weeks), might titillate her for what I hoped might come that evening. I’d been a little disappointed the previous night, when I’d been dispatched to sleep on the air mattress in the sitting room with a mere kiss, and had spent the remainder of my time awake, kicking myself for insisting on an early start for horse riding.

I chained the boat to the jetty again and we stepped back onto dry land, before returning the oars and seat cushions to the Fishermen’s Hut. Then, with my shirt slung over my shoulder, I took Amy’s hand in mine and we climbed back up to the top of the bank to head back to the farmhouse.

“I’ve had such an amazing day,” she said, looking up at me, a big smile across her face.

“Me too,” I said.

“And I’m really looking forward to tonight!” she added. I noticed her looking across at my chest, before her eyes trailed down to my crotch.

“Oh” I said innocently, “and why’s that?”

“Because, we’re going to go out for a lovely meal and then I’m going to take you home and rip all your clothes off,” she said wantonly.

I arched my eyebrow. “And after that?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see!”

We were nearing the farmyard now. Most of our barns were modern metal constructions, including the lambing sheds, but over to our left and a little apart from the others was the Black Barn, the oldest building on the farm. I had an idea.

“D’you want to come and see the barn owls?” I asked.

“You have barn owls?” she replied.

“Yes, they live in the Black Barn over there,” I said. “They’ll be asleep, but we can take a quick peek.”

The barn was old and too small by modern standards to be used much for the day-to-day running of the farm; we generally used it as an overflow store for straw bales and sacks of animal feed and fertilizer. It was a good place for the barn owls to live as they were rarely disturbed.

The door to the barn creaked as I pushed it open.

‘Needs a bit of oil on the hinges,’ I thought to myself.

“The owls are up there,” I whispered to Amy pointing above my head, “but we need to go to the other end to see them properly.”

The barn was pretty full and there was a large wall of straw bales in the centre, blocking our path.

“We need to climb on top of those,” I said, and gave Amy my hand to help her up.

We reached the top, three or four metres above ground level and looked across to where the two owls were huddled together, asleep in the eaves.

“Wow, they look so cute!” Amy cooed, getting out her phone and taking a slew of photos. We sat on the top of the bales, watching them. “Can they get outside to hunt?”

I nodded. Yes, there’s a gap under the eaves that they can get through.

“And they wake up at night?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yes, they keep the mice out of here pretty effectively,” I said. “They can be pretty noisy as well, they make a sort of screeching sound.”

“You mean they don’t go twit twoo?” she asked, looking disappointed.

“No that’s tawny owls,” I said.

“What’s that up there?” she asked, pointing to the balcony area behind us that extended across a third of the barn.

“Oh that’s the hayloft,” I said. “There’s not much up there, except a load of spiders.”

Her eyes widened excitedly. “Can we go up?” she asked. “Is it safe?”

“If you want to,” I answered, misreading Amy’s intentions as usual. “I don’t think we’ll get a better view up there.”

Amy climbed carefully down the other side of the straw bales, then crossed the exposed concrete floor of the barn, before starting to crawl slowly up the ladder to the hay loft. I followed, taking advantage of the opportunity to get a good look at her jodhpur-clad butt as she climbed.

We reached the top and collapsed together on the pile of hay in the centre.

“Mmm”, Amy giggled, “I always fancied a roll in the hay with a stable boy!”

She moved to lie on top of me and we began to kiss as my hands roamed over her buttocks.

She bucked her hips, pressing her mound against my crotch. “Are you getting hard?” she teased, feeling my stiffening cock through the fabric between us.

I nodded. “Fuck Amy,” I whispered, “you make me so fucking horny.”

She began to kiss across my bare chest, which was beginning to flush with my arousal. She ran her fingers lightly through my wispy blond hairs, swirling her tongue around my nipples. Then she kissed towards my abs, past my navel, following my blond treasure trail down as it disappeared under my waistband.

Amy pushed herself up a little, feasting her eyes, sweeping her gaze across me, before placing a delicate kiss on my bulge. She shivered with excitement, as lust surged within her.

She paused, looking up at me from between my legs, teasing me, tantalising me. Her hands poised to undo the button of my jodhpurs, her face centimetres from my crotch. I willed her to take the next step.

Suddenly the door to the barn creaked open and we froze. I pushed Amy off me and we ducked behind the rough wooden parapet that stopped the hay from sliding down onto the floor below. Who was that?

A female voice rang out, “No it’s fine, there’s no one around.” Slightly muffled, but I recognised it immediately.
“Lauren!” I whispered to Amy.

“But what if someone comes in?” a male voice responded. He sounded familiar – a teenage boy. Who was Lauren with?

Amy and I stared at each other, straining to identify the second voice, not daring to move a muscle.

“Climb this way, over these bales and then no one can see us.” Lauren said, evidently the more enthusiastic of the pair. There was the sound of clothing dragging against straw and the odd grunt of exertion as the two followed the same route as Amy and I had minutes before.

There was a thud as the first pair of feet jumped down from the last bale onto the floor of the barn.

“What’s up there?” the male voice asked. It certainly sounded familiar, very familiar, very, very familiar.

Suddenly realisation struck me, it was Danny! But what on earth was he doing here with Lauren?

“Oh that?” said Lauren, “That’s the hayloft. Don’t worry about it, it’s full of spiders.”

“How do I get down?” Danny asked.

“Just jump!” Lauren replied, “like I did.”

“But what about Jake?” Danny was asking.

“Who gives a fuck?” Lauren replied, “He’s out horse riding with Amy, and if they’ve finished doing that, then Amy’s probably riding him!” she cackled.

My face reddened; I cringed in embarrassment. Amy stuck her tongue out at me. “In your dreams,” she mouthed at me, enjoying my discomfort.

There was another thud, presumably as Danny joined Lauren a mere three metres or so below where we were hiding.

“Now stop dithering and just fucking kiss me,” she ordered him.

‘Kiss me?’ An electric shock ran through me and my stomach lurched. Had I heard that right?

Amy and I stared at each other in disbelief. Yes, we’d both heard it. Lauren had really asked Danny to kiss her! What the fuck was happening?

We scooted forwards a little, to look through the cracks between the ill-fitting wooden boards that made up the parapet. Beneath us, Danny and Lauren were indeed kissing – tongues and all.

‘So that’s what Lauren was up to when I’d been spending time at Amy’s!’ I thought to myself. ‘That’s why she always changed the subject whenever I mentioned Danny to her and told me not to worry when I said I was feeling guilty about not seeing him much.’ She’d been pursuing him. It all fitted!

I looked on, speechless. I didn’t really want to spy on my cousin and best friend, but somehow the scene playing out below us was so improbable and so unexpected, I was compelled to watch. I mean Lauren and Danny – what the fuck?

By now, Lauren had pushed Danny up against the wall of straw bales and was running her hands under his t-shirt. She had her back to us, partly obscuring our view.

“Fuck Danny,” she cried excitedly. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve been waiting to drag you in here.”

“Yeah?” he replied. “This is hot.” He was getting into this now, thoughts of being interrupted now banished from his mind.

“How long have we got?” she asked.

“I need to pick Emma up at four thirty,” he replied, “so twenty minutes before I have to get in the car.”

“Get your top off now!” Lauren barked, as she lifted the hem, revealing Danny’s anaemic chest.

“If mine’s coming off, what about yours?” he bantered back.

“Fine,” she responded, “let’s do it together. 1… 2… 3…” And they ripped off their shirts, casting them to one side.

They threw themselves at each other again, their breathing becoming more laboured and their skin beginning to redden. They broke apart again, holding each other’s gaze for several seconds.

I looked across at Amy, she was transfixed. As astonished as I was.

“How come you’ve still got this on?” asked Danny, indicating Lauren’s bra.

“I was going to let you take it off,” she responded cheekily, turning her back to him, so that he could access the clasp.

Danny, never the most adept at delicate manual operations, fumbled for a few seconds, before Lauren shrugged the undergarment onto the floor in front of her, straightening up to reveal her generous breasts.

I stared agog. I hadn’t seen Lauren topless since we were nine or ten. Of course I’d noticed she had a naturally big bust, but had no idea they were this full.

Lauren stepped backwards against Danny, picking his hands from her sides and placing them around her. She twisted her head backwards to kiss him as she ground her butt into his crotch.

“You like that, you like that?” she asked him breathlessly, as his hands roamed over her breasts.

“Fuck yeah,” he gasped.

“Tell me what you want!” she demanded. (Lauren could be pretty assertive, but I’d never seen her be quite this dominant before.)

“I want your breasts,” he pleaded. “I want to bury my head in them, to kiss them, to suck them, to lick them.”

“You want my breasts?” she asked.

Danny nodded vigorously, seemingly no longer capable of speech.

She looked around quickly. “Kneel on that bale,” she commanded him, pointing a few metres across to her right.

Danny darted to the bale, kneeling up obediently, like a dog awaiting a reward. Lauren stepped towards him, presenting her bust to him at perfect head height.

Amy moved across slightly towards me, so that she could see the couple in their new position, bringing her head close to mine. The two of us watched as Danny attacked Lauren’s breasts with his mouth, slobbering over them, sucking her nipples, as she offered them to him.

I whispered in Amy’s ear, “Does this turn you on?”

She turned to me reddening, avoiding eye contact, giving an almost imperceptible, embarrassed nod.

“It’s OK,” I whispered again, “I’m hard too.”

Amy looked up at me, her eyes and mouth wide with excitement. She turned back to the crack in the parapet boards, and I let my hand trail down to her butt, stroking her curves. She mewed as quietly as she could.

“Are you hard?” I heard Lauren say down below us. (For a moment I thought she was asking me!)

I looked back through the crack. Lauren had pulled Danny up into a standing position and was holding the crotch of his jeans tightly with one hand.

“Oh, you like that Baby! You like that, you like my breasts, don’t you, don’t you!” she taunted him.

“Yeah, Lauren.” He responded. “I’m fucking hard for you. You are fucking amazing!”

She toyed with him, rubbing him for a few seconds through his jeans. Then she knelt down on the bale between them, bending her head to nuzzle him through the denim fabric.

Danny gasped, “Fuck Lauren!”

Amy scooted further across to get the right viewing angle, pressing into me.

“This OK?” I whispered in her ear.

Amy nodded and we turned our attention back to the couple below us, to see Lauren quickly slip the button of Danny’s jeans, yanking them down to his knees. He stood before her in his white boxer briefs, his rigid cock clearly outlined.

Lauren nuzzled him again, taking a deep breath, inhaling his scent. Another pause.

Then, quick as a flash, she hooked her index fingers into his waistband, slipping his underwear down, exposing his quivering shaft. She held still for a few seconds, inspecting his wares, moving his rod from one side to the other, as if it was a vegetable at the supermarket.

Then she pounced. Lauren’s mouth fell on Danny’s cock, forcing as much in as she could, as if she’d been told it was her last meal for a month.

Danny yelped in surprise, astonished by her aggressiveness. The sound of her slobbering and low moans was louder than a herd of pigs jostling at the trough. Strong guttural sounds emanated from her throat as she bottomed out.

She pulled off, gasping, looking up at him, strands of saliva hanging from her mouth, waiting in anticipation, begging for instruction. Danny stood there open mouthed, mute, rooted to the spot. All his Christmases had come at once, and now, now he had no idea what to do, what to say or how to deal with it.

“Is that good, you like that?” she asked anxiously, almost as if she thought he might be in pain. Danny managed to emit a strangled throaty noise, which Lauren seemed to be content to interpret as a sign of pleasure. She delicately took hold of his cock with one hand, licking from base to tip with long strokes of her tongue. Then she placed little kisses on the very end, looking up at him. Another silence, not even the slightest movement from Danny.

She broke contact and leaned back, disappointment flickered over her face and she was about to say something, when finally the boy spluttered into life. Danny slowly extended his fingers, stroking the side of her cheek, before placing his hand behind her head, guiding her head back to his shaft. She took him into her mouth again, moving more slowly, more tenderly this time, focusing on the head, not trying to jam it down her throat this time.

“Oh Lauren!” Danny moaned. “That looks amazing.”

Lauren pulled off his cock again, looking up at him. “You like it when I suck your dick?” she asked, excitedly.

Danny nodded vigorously.

“You like it when your girlfriend with her big tits is sucking your dick?” she persisted.

“Yeah fuck!” he replied, becoming more enthusiastic. “I love it when you suck my cock and I fucking love your fucking big tits!”

That gave Lauren an idea. Still holding Danny’s cock with one hand, she straightened up on the straw bale, bringing her breasts level with his crotch. Then she began to rub the tip of her shaft against her nipples.

From our position in the hayloft, we could see a few drops of pre-cum glistening on Danny’s glans.

Amy whispered in my ear. “Your willie is so much bigger!”

“Yeah!” I whispered back a little half-heartedly. As compelling as the scene unfolding beneath us was, I was conflicted. On the one hand as a secret voyeur, I was titillated by the erotic display that the couple were unknowingly putting on for us; but on the other, I was horrified, repulsed even, by watching my cousin, whom I treated as my sister, getting it on with my best friend. If I hadn’t known either of them, the spectacle would have rivalled the best amateur porn on the internet, but I just had this queasy feeling in my stomach. It was difficult to know which was worse – Lauren’s tits or Danny’s erection!

Danny was clearly starting to feel more comfortable now and had begun to buck his hips a little as Lauren held his shaft against herself, giving low moans to encourage him.

“You like that?” she asked again, “You like fucking my tits?” She placed his cock in the valley between her breasts, pressing them together around him.

Danny nodded and grunted, “Yeah fuck that’s amazing.”

“Fuck my tits, fucking fuck my tits!” she urged him.

“Yeah, you like getting your fucking tits fucked?” he asked.

‘Such command of the English language!’ I thought.

“Yeah fucking fuck them!” she screamed back at him. “You turn me on so much!”

“You’re so fucking dirty,” he thrust back at her, “go on take my cock, take it.”

“Yeah fuck!” she squealed. “I’m your big-breasted whore, fucking give me your dick!”

Danny ripped his cock away from her, pushing her shoulders down. He smacked her playfully on her cheeks with his cock. “You want this, you want this?” he asked. “You fucking want my dick you whore?” and with that he shoved his cock back into her open mouth.

Lauren gagged again, taking his whole shaft down her throat, choking, retching even as she bobbed violently on him, slobbering on him, trickles of spit leaking from the corner of her mouth. She looked up at him, holding steady eye contact.

Amy stiffened beside me. At the start, she’d seemed to be enjoying the spectacle, but now she too was getting uncomfortable as the intensity increased and the language got coarser. I looked across at her and she fidgeted a little, still unable to wrench her eyes away.

Lauren pulled off him again and Danny bent to kiss her, pulling her upwards again, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. As they broke the kiss, she moulded her breasts around his shaft again, the groove between them glistening with her saliva and his pre-cum. He began to thrust again, the two of them shouting a stream of obscenities about the size of her tits and the hardness of his cock.

Danny stopped suddenly. “Lauren, I’m going to cum,” he said, worried, almost panicky. “I’m going to cum soon. Where should I cum?”

The two of them looked around, Lauren twisted behind her to where their t-shirts were lying on the ground, but quickly discounted them as a possibility. (They’d need to wear those back to her house, at least.)

She looked back up at him, gasping. “Cum in my mouth,” she demanded. “I want you to fucking cum in my mouth, give me your fucking spunk!”

Danny grabbed his cock again, hitting her on her face. “You want it, Lauren?” he growled.

She nodded, looking up at him pleadingly.

“Go on, fucking take it,” he instructed, sliding his cock back in between her lips and beginning to thrust again.

Lauren gagged again and Danny roared, pulling her head onto him and ejaculating into her mouth. He held the back of her head there for a few seconds, before she pulled away. Then he bent down to kiss her and she shared his seed with him.

“That was fucking hot!” he said, breathlessly.

Lauren did not reply, but instead placed her mouth back over his cock, licking him tenderly, cleaning him off, making sure that no drop was wasted.

She struggled to her feet and they kissed again.

“We need to go,” Lauren said.

“What about you?” Danny protested.

“I can wait until next week,” she said. “I get the car back from Jake on Tuesday morning, and then I’ll come over and we can screw for the rest of the holiday.”

“But what if Jake wants to see Amy?”

“Jake will have to make do with phone sex instead,” she retorted. I sank my head into my hands, willing the ground to swallow us up. Worse was to come. “The amount of time those two have been spending with each other, Amy will need the rest of Half Term before she can walk properly again! I’m sure they’ve been fucking like rabbits all day!”

I died inside. It would have been bad enough to hear that on my own, but with Amy next to me… We’d been building up our sexual activity so cautiously. The aborted ‘roll in the hay’ minutes before, was pretty much the closest we’d come in five weeks. I was mortified.

The two of them were fully clothed now and they climbed back over the bales. We heard the door to the barn creak open and bang shut. Then Amy and I were alone again, in silence, in uncomfortable silence, in the semi-darkness of the hayloft.

I racked my brains, trying to think of something to say, that might make things better, but could only come up with stuff that made a bad situation worse.

“I’m so sorry about Lauren.” I said eventually. “She shouldn’t have said those things.”

“It’s OK,” she said, in the sort of tone that people use when they are desperately willing something to be OK, but when they know deep down it’s not.

“Let’s get down and go back to the farmhouse” I said.

We walked back across the farmyard in silence, Amy holding my hand tightly. I prayed that we wouldn’t bump into Lauren, and fortunately we made it back into the kitchen without meeting either her or Danny.

Originally my plan had been to take Amy upstairs to show her my bedroom and possibly even to share a shower with her, but any amorous intentions I might have harboured were now deeply inappropriate.

I showed her into the sitting room. “Do you mind if I have a shower and get changed?” I asked.

“No, you go ahead,” she said quietly.

“Do you want one as well, or do you want to wait until you get home?”

“It’s OK,” she responded, “I’ll wait until I’m back.”

I showered quickly, taking the opportunity to shave my face as well. I wasn’t yet shaving every day, but would need to do so in a few months’ time.

Amy was chatting to my mum, when I got back downstairs and I was grateful to her for providing a bit of distraction.

“I heard you had a good hack this afternoon,” Mum said, greeting her with a smile.

“Yeah, just a short ride really, but the weather was good and we got over to the other side of the valley,” I responded.

“What are your plans for tonight?” she asked.

“We were going to go to The Crown Hotel for dinner,” I replied.

“Oh very nice,” Mum responded. “Posh there! You going to dress up?” she nodded at my scruffy jeans.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve left a good shirt and my trousers at Amy’s to change into.”

“Black shoes?” Mum asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I’ve thought of everything,” I said, perhaps a little smugly. “They’re in the back of my car.”

The three of us chatted for a few more minutes. It was obvious that Mum had taken a shine to Amy and that Amy had warmed to her as well. Then the two of us made our excuses and walked out to the car.

–

We drove back into town. The shopping centre was kicking out its Saturday customers and we waited in the queue for the traffic lights for a few minutes.

“Did you know that Lauren and Danny were together?” Amy asked quietly after a long silence.

“No, I had no idea.” I said. “It can’t have been for very long, because Danny was still cut up over Becky at Easter.”

“So he’s gone for Lauren on the rebound,” she said, more of a statement than a question.

“Yup, Lauren’s spotted a weakness and has gone charging in, by the looks of it,” I sighed. “I just hope neither of them get hurt, but rebound jobs tend not to work out, at least not those I’ve seen at school.”

“Do you think they’re not suited then?”

“I don’t know, I’m never very good at spotting potential couples,” I admitted. “Lauren can be pretty wild and I always thought she’d go for someone who could keep her feet on the ground. But maybe the class clown is the one she’s after instead.

“I don’t quite get what he sees in her, though,” I mused. “Except that she can take his mind off Becky.”

We turned into Amy’s drive and I parked the car. She was quiet as we walked up to the front door and went inside.

“Drink?” she asked, over her shoulder.

“Yes please,” I responded as we walked down the hallway to the kitchen.

Amy filled two tumblers with water from the tap and motioned for us to sit down at the kitchen table.

“Can we talk?” she asked quietly.

I nodded nervously. “I’m so sorry about this afternoon,” I started, but Amy held up her hand to stop me.

“Can you just let me?” she asked, looking me in the eyes. “I’ve been thinking and I’d just like to talk.”

I nodded again, my throat becoming dry, worried that she might want to break things off.

She spoke, slowly and deliberately, her tone reminding me of her mothers’, logical and a little legalistic.

“The past six weeks have been amazing,” she said, smiling briefly at me, “the happiest I’ve been in a long time, the happiest of my life.” She reached out and took my hand in hers.

My heart started to beat faster, nervous at what she might be about to say.

“You’ve been such an amazing boyfriend to me, so supportive, so kind. You’ve really helped me focus on the exams and it’s so much fun to be with you. I was thinking about you, when we were in the barn, how much of a man you are compared to Danny, how much cleverer, more thoughtful you are. You have such an amazing body, and your willie is so much bigger than his!” she giggled.

I smiled back, flattered that she had noticed.

“And then I thought about Lauren,” she continued, “how secure she felt in her relationship with Danny to do that for him, how confident she is, how much bigger her breasts are than mine.”

“Oh Amy!” I said dismayed. “You have an amazing body, your breasts are the most beautiful I have ever seen, I love them, I really do. You are perfect.”

Amy smiled thinly at me, as if she didn’t really believe me. She held her hand up again to stop me and I noticed that tears were starting to well in her eyes.

“And I was worried that Lauren was expecting us to be doing the same, to be doing more than them, and, and, I love you so much, but I’m not ready, I’m not ready for that.” She held up her hand again to stop me interjecting.
“And you’ve been so sweet, and so caring, and we’ve been doing things at exactly the right speed,” she said blinking away tears. I stretched my arm across the table, taking her hand in mine. She gripped me tightly.

“And I was scared that you were getting frustrated with me, that we weren’t doing anything more adventurous, that we weren’t having sex and that you were going to get bored and I would lose you.” She looked down. She was shivering a little, and starting to cry properly now.

“Amy, Amy!” I said, half in despair, half in shock. I moved round the table to the chair next to hers. I lifted her chin gently, stroking her cheek with the fingers of one hand. “Listen to me!”

She looked up at me. “Amy, I am so in love with you; you are so special to me!” I said earnestly. “The last few weeks since Easter have been so wonderful and it’s been so amazing to share them with you.”

I kissed her, gently, on the cheek.

“And what Lauren thinks we should do with our sex lives is absolutely none of her fucking business,” I heard myself getting a little angry. “The only important thing is that we are both comfortable with what we are doing, how we celebrate each other’s bodies and how we love each other.

“And if I am the guy who’s lucky enough to take those next steps with you, we’ll do them when we’re both ready and I promise that when we do, it’ll be the right time and it’ll be wonderful. And if I’m not that guy, then when you do finally do these things with whoever it is, then you’ll be really pleased that you waited for him and didn’t get forced into doing anything you regret with me.”

She looked up at me again. She’d stopped crying now. “Oh Jake,” she said, leaning into me and throwing her arms around me. “Thank you. You are the most wonderful person I know!”

My heart swelled with emotion. “I love you Amy, I really do. I would never hurt you – you know that.”

I rose to my feet and we held each other, quietly in the stillness of the kitchen.

“And one more thing,” I said quietly, calmly this time. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Your body is perfection, you have nothing to be embarrassed or modest about. And your breasts, your breasts are simply divine and I will fight any man who claims otherwise!”

“Oh Jake,” she replied, “I love you, I really do,” she paused, “and your willie isn’t bad either!” she added with a grin.

We kissed. A long, gentle sensuous kiss, tender yet passionate. We broke apart.

“Jake,” Amy asked nervously, “Will you sleep with me tonight? Not to have sex, but just to hold each other? To hold each other when we go to sleep and when we wake up?”

“I would really like that,” I replied, “but you only have a single bed in your room and I’d worry about squashing you. Besides, I promised your mum that I would sleep downstairs in the sitting room!”

“Oh Jake,” she laughed, “you are just too honest! You didn’t see the loophole?”

I looked at her in confusion. “Loophole?”

“Yes. Mum didn’t say where I had to sleep, so I’m going to join you downstairs!”

“But my air bed – it’s hard enough for one person to get a good night’s sleep on it, let alone two,” I protested. “It’s only just better than the floor.

“No, I thought it all through,” she said with a sly smile. “We’re going to bring the two mattresses down from the twins’ room and sleep on those.”

“Why from the twins’ beds?” I asked, beginning to catch on.

“Because they’re identical, I know they’ll be at the same height,” she replied. “I think my mattress is slightly thicker. Come on, let’s go!”

Amy scampered upstairs and I followed a little more slowly. She’d obviously been planning, as the twins’ mattresses were already stripped and were leaning against the wall nearest the door. We manhandled the mattresses in turn, down the stairs and into the sitting room, with Amy covering each with a sheet. Then she brought down the pillows and a spare double duvet.

“Wow!” she said, inspecting our handiwork with glee. “I’m so looking forward to tonight!”

“Do you still want to go out for dinner?” I asked, conscious that time was ticking away and that Amy was still wearing the same clothes that she had all afternoon.

“Yes,” she said, looking at her watch. “The taxi will be here at seven thirty.”

“Taxi? I thought I was going to drive us?” I answered, surprised.

“Mum didn’t want us you to drive, if we were going to drink, so she gave me the money for a taxi each way,” Amy explained. “Now I’m going upstairs to have a shower and to get changed. You get changed down here.” She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and darted off up the stairs. “And no peeking!” she giggled as she disappeared out of sight.

I looked at my watch – a little over forty-five minutes before the taxi was due. I shuffled down the hallway, to the bathroom under the stairs, to brush my teeth. Then I changed into an open-neck shirt and a smart pair of trousers, returning to the bathroom to style my hair, adding a little gel.

I looked at my watch again. Even spinning it out, it had taken me less than ten minutes to get ready.

I thought back to the scene that Amy and I had witnessed in the Black Barn earlier that afternoon.

When had Lauren and Danny got together, I wondered.

I ran the memories of the past term through my mind, searching for clues, but there was nothing, no obvious change in their behaviour at any point.

Then it hit me. That first Monday of term, when Lauren and I had discussed the Prom in the car on the way to school. That morning in late April, when we’d cooked up the scheme for the ‘table of singleton nerds’ – that wasn’t for Amy and me, that was to keep Lauren’s relationship with Danny secret!

Just as I’d engineered Derek asking Libby to join our table, Lauren had manipulated me into organising the whole thing. She’d known long before I got in the car what outcome she wanted and how she was going to go about getting it. Danny and Nick having lunch together when I floated the idea – maybe that was coincidence, but maybe not, but it was certainly convenient that the two were there at the right time.

‘That’s why Danny didn’t say anything about Amy joining us,’ I thought, ‘he already knew!’ The two of them must have got together over the Easter Holidays – that’s why he’d refused to meet up with me and why she’d been so cagey about what she was doing when I was with Amy!

I flopped down onto the sofa in the sitting room, fuming that I’d allowed myself to be outsmarted in that way. But I also felt a grudging admiration for the way that Lauren had dreamt up the whole scheme. She’d played me like a fiddle and I, in my starry-eyed, loved-up state had fallen for the plan – hook, line and sinker.

But she’d made a mistake, she’d got overconfident. She’d brought Danny to the farm on a day when she knew that Amy and I were also there together. Granted she’d chosen the one building that (other than her own house) we would be least likely to visit, but she’d taken that risk none the less. But maybe it was the danger that had made the whole episode so much more exciting for her, maybe that was why she’d ripped Danny’s clothes off, while the poor boy just stood there overwhelmed by her impetuousness, trembling in the fear that they might be discovered.

Was Danny just Lauren’s ‘victim’, ensnared in her talons when he was at his most vulnerable, I wondered. Or had she come along at the moment he needed her most, to rescue him from sinking into despondence over Becky? Was she getting in the way of his work, or was she helping him to focus? What would have happened if Becky and James hadn’t hooked up?

I sighed. There were too many ‘what ifs’. I just hoped there wouldn’t come a time when I’d have to choose between the two of them. I loved my cousin, but I loved my best friend too.

“Jake!” Amy called, waking me from my thoughts.

“Coming!” I called back. I got up off the sofa and walked back out into the hallway.