Tybalt and Juliet Ch. 01

-

I reached the Masters' house around twenty minutes later and crept in through the back door into the kitchen. I'd decided to go straight home and not to stay the night as originally planned. Without Danny and with James 'distracted' by Becky, there wasn't much reason to hang around. Amy was welcome to Ritchie; I couldn't have cared less at that stage.

Ignoring the music blaring from the sitting room, I headed up the stairs to collect my bag. The door to James' middle brother's room was shut, as it had been at similar points in the evening at numerous previous parties.

'Oh dear,' I thought. 'Which couple is it this time?' Well if it was Ritchie and Amy, I'd just have to suck it up.

I pushed open the door. Stijn was naked on the bed, with another body (presumably Rachel's) beneath him.

"Oi fuck off, Jake!" he shouted.

"Just getting my bag," I mumbled. There was nothing I hadn't seen before, especially with those two. I reached down to grab my holdall. Danny's was there next to it, and I picked that up as well.

I shut the bedroom door behind me and headed back downstairs, dropping both bags by the front door next to my guitar. As I picked up my coat, I realised that Lauren's was missing.

'Good, she's gone home with Alicja already,' I thought to myself.

I ducked into the small under stairs bathroom to relieve myself and to splash some water over my hands and face. I glared at myself in the mirror - a fun afternoon had become a shit evening. How could one girl make everything so complicated?

I turned and opened the door; there was a shrieking sound coming down the hallway towards me.

Amy flashed past me.

"Get off, leave me alone!" she was crying.

I opened the door fully and stepped out, colliding immediately with Ritchie, who was barrelling along after her.

"Problem?" I asked innocently.

"Fuck off Jake," he snarled. "Get out of my way, she's just playing hard to get!"

"Ritchie," I said firmly, "she doesn't want you. Now fuck off and leave her alone!"

He stepped back, sizing me up, pulling himself up to his full height. He puffed his chest out, then he moved forward, throwing a clumsy punch towards me. I sidestepped, deflecting him against the stairs. He staggered slightly, losing his balance, hitting his head on the bannisters.

I bent over him.

"Listen to me Ritchie," I growled into his ear. "You're drunk and I assure I am stone-cold sober. Try that again, and the night will end very badly for you in a very short space of time. Understand? She's not interested and never will be. Now get out of my sight!"

I pulled him to his feet and shoved him away. He slunk back into the sitting room to lick his wounds.

I turned and walked back into the kitchen, my heart pounding. Amy was standing by the sink in tears, shaking. I put both arms around her to reassure her.

"It's OK," I said. "You're safe here. He can't get at you."

I held her close for a few minutes, letting her rest her head against my chest until she became calmer. She looked up at me.

"Thank you," she said. "I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't been here."

I didn't really want to think what Ritchie would have done unhindered.

"Come on," I said. "Let's take you home."

She looked at me concerned.

"It's alright," I said. "I've got the car outside."

I took her by the hand and led her down the hallway to the front door, gathering my coat, guitar and the bags. I opened the front door and ushered her out into the cold night air.

Amy walked slowly round to the passenger door as I unlocked the car.

"Sorry," I said as we strapped ourselves in. "It's a bit untidy. This is all Lauren's junk." I indicated the various hair bands, brushes, makeup compacts, lotions and random plastic bags strewn around the interior. "She takes the car shopping for a couple of hours and when she gets back there's a tonne of rubbish in here!"

Amy looked at me incredulously. "Lauren's insured on your car?" she asked astonished as I started the car.

"Well, it's both of ours," I said. "Our grandmother gave it to us when she stopped driving. We share it really, or try to share it."

"Hang on," she said, "you're related?"

Now it was my turn to look surprised. "Yes, we're cousins! Her mum is my Dad's sister. We don't have the same surname, but we're all part of the same family. Our parents co-own the farm. Didn't you know?"

She shook her head. "But that explains a lot," she said quietly. "I thought..."

"What?" I asked.

"It's OK, it's nothing," she murmured in response.

I'd thought that everyone at our school knew that Lauren and I were related, but because it was one of those things that everyone knew, I suppose no one talked about it. It was very plausible that since Amy had arrived at the school a year and a half ago, it had never come up in conversation around her, especially as she'd taken a while to make friends and settle in. Added to the fact that Lauren and I did act like a married couple sometimes (and we'd often arrive and leave together), Amy could have assumed that we, like Stijn and Rachel, were one of those teenage sweethearts who'd been together for years. The invitation to our joint birthday party might have further confused matters.

Amy was quiet for a few minutes as we drove away from James' house, but she relaxed more as the distance increased.

"It's such a relief to be away from there," she said. "Thank you."

I nodded, not really sure what to say.

"It's OK," I said, repeating the words I'd used earlier, "you're safe now."

I knew vaguely where Amy lived, but as we neared her neighbourhood, she directed me to turn into her road and I parked in her driveway. I stopped the engine and looked up at the house. All the lights were off.

"Let me see you inside," I said.

She nodded and opened the car door.

As we walked towards the front door, she felt in the pocket of her jeans.

"Oh no," she said, the sound of despair in her voice. "My key - I think I left it at James'! It must have fallen out of my pocket. We'll have to go back."

"Is there no one at home?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No, they're away for the night," she replied.

My heart sank. The last thing I wanted to do now was to drive back to James' house. Especially if it meant rooting around for a key in a room where Ritchie might still be.

"Does your neighbour have a key?" I asked, "or do you have one hidden somewhere?"

She shook her head.

I toyed with the idea of taking her back to the farm, but decided that that option caused a similar number of problems.

I walked over to the side of the house and looked up. There was a window open, not the largest gap I'd ever climbed through, but certainly not the smallest. There was a route up over the garage roof. Yes, definitely doable.

"I can get in through that window," I told her.

She looked at me as if I was mad.

"Easier if I've got a ladder, but if not, I can get in over the garage," I added.

She shook her head. "No Jake," she said, "it's too dangerous. It's dark and you might fall."

"Is there a ladder in there?" I asked, pointing to the garage.

She nodded. "But it's locked."

I walked over to the door. It was a standard pressed-steel design with a lock that prevented the handle from moving, but which didn't actually secure the door into its frame. It was as cheap as it was useless. All I needed to do was to slip the catch and that meant pushing a thin strip through the centre of the gap at the top of the door to hook it open. I'd done it hundreds of times, as had many thousands of British teenagers over many years.

I walked back to the car and picked up one of Lauren's combs. That should do it. Then, standing on tip toes, I inserted it through the gap at the top. There was a bit of resistance, but I felt the latch move against its spring. I pulled the door open, trying to hide my triumphant smile.

"Jake," Amy exclaimed, "how did you do that?"

"I'll tell you later," I said.

The centre of the garage was clear for a car, but there was a long ladder to one side, which I lifted out and leaned against the wall of the house below the open window. I instructed the still protesting Amy to hold the bottom, then shinned upwards and levered myself through.

I straightened up. As I'd expected from the frosted glass, I was standing in a bathroom. In front of me was a shower cubicle and on either side there were two doors. I opened the one on the right. It was dark, but I was clearly in a children's bedroom with two single beds.

I removed my shoes, picking them up and carrying them with me out to the upstairs landing. I flicked the light switch on and descended the stairs. The whole operation had taken less than two minutes.

As soon as I opened the front door, Amy ran inside, and threw both arms around me. She laid her head on my chest.

"Thank you," she said. "It's so good to be back home."

I held her close for a few seconds, then cautiously kissed the top of her head. She realised what I'd done and lifted her head and smiled back at me.

"Amy," I said. "I need to put the ladder away. You stay here, and I'll be back in two ticks."

I slipped my shoes on again, then removed the ladder from the side of the house and stowed it away. I made sure that the garage door was as secure as it had been before I'd broken in and returned to Amy.

"Will you stay for a bit?" she asked, biting her lip a little nervously.

"Yes, of course", I replied. I followed her inside and down the hallway to the kitchen at the back of the house.

As we entered, she threw her arms around me again.

"Thank you, Jake, thank you so much," she said breathlessly. "I don't know what I'd have done without you."

I kissed the top of her head and she pulled me more tightly to her. She smiled - a wide, radiant smile.

"Would you like a drink?" she offered. "I think my step-dad has some beer and there might be some white wine in the fridge."

"It's OK," I answered. "I definitely don't feel like alcohol right now. How about something warming - do you have hot chocolate?"

She opened a cupboard and brought out a tub of chocolate powder. I stood beside her and put one arm around her as she heated a pan of milk.

"Amy," I said quietly, "I know this is probably the worst night to say this to you, but, but, I really like you."

That sounded so lame. I blushed.

"I really like you too, Jake," she replied, glancing downwards, her cheeks reddening.

Apprehensively I bent my head again and gently kissed her forehead. I straightened up again and looked down into her eyes. We held each other for several seconds.

Amy turned back to the pan, which was beginning to simmer. She added the chocolate powder, then poured the dark liquid into two mugs.

"Let's go and sit down," she said.

She lead the way down the hallway, turning right into the sitting room as I followed with the drinks.

We sat down on one of the sofas, at opposite ends, clutching the mugs in our hands, intently blowing air across the surface of the hot liquid.

I cautiously took a sip. "Thank you," I said. "This is lovely."

A silence descended, which was rapidly becoming awkward. I was completely tongue tied - the way that we were sitting seemed so formal. I wanted to put my arms around her again, but needed an excuse to make body contact.

I put my mug down on the low table in front of the sofa and pulled out my phone. "Would you like to see my lambs?" I asked.

"Oh yes," she replied, perhaps grateful that I'd made the first move.

I held my phone out in front of me and found the right folder, then scrolled through my photos. Amy scooted across to me, placing her leg against mine and leaning into me. I held my phone out in front of us and scrolled through the photos. They were of the lambs that had been born back at the end of February, but it wouldn't have mattered whether they were pictures of the inside of the sewerage system. We were both just grateful for the excuse to snuggle against each other.

It certainly wasn't the most comfortable of positions, so I moved my left arm out from under her, placing it around her. She leant further into me and ran the back of her hand across my chest.

"I like your t-shirt," she said.

"Oh, it's not mine." I said. "It's Danny's! It's too small for me really."

"Danny's?" she asked, "is he your cousin too?"

"No," I laughed. "He er, well, he drank a bit too much, too quickly when he saw that James and Becky had got together this evening and so I, er, took him home. That's where I disappeared to earlier on. He very kindly vommed all over my top, so I borrowed this when I got him home."

"So that's what you were whispering about with Lauren," she giggled.

"Well, I was just trying to make sure that my guitar didn't end up in the pool!"

"Was he OK? Danny? When you got him home?" she asked.

"He was pretty wasted, but his parents were out, and I swore his sister to secrecy. He'll have to explain the cut on his forehead tomorrow, but it looked worse than it was."

She smiled again and stroked my chest with the back of her hand. "Well, I think you should wear this t-shirt more often - it makes you look more muscly," she giggled.

"Amy?" I asked nervously. "Can I kiss you?"

She said nothing but lifted her head so our lips met. I felt a tingle of electricity as our tongues touched. Her lips were soft, smooth and warm. I stroked her cheek gently.

My cock instantly jumped to attention - harder than I'd ever been before, straining at my jeans to burst out.

I tried desperately to ignore the throbbing in my pants, to lose myself in the moment, in her tender kiss. She pulled back gently, making a soft guttural whine as we broke contact.

"Hmm," she murmured. "You're a good kisser! You taste all chocolatey!"

She lay back against me again, closing her eyes contentedly. I moved my arm down from the back of the sofa to hold her and kissed the top of her head. She shifted her legs so that they ran across mine.

We kissed again, more deeply this time. I stroked her forearm, drinking in the smell of her hair, the tenderness of her lips and the softness of her cashmere sweater. My heart began to race and I heard her breathing become louder and deeper.

We broke apart and Amy picked up the mugs again, handing mine to me. The chocolate was cooler now and we drank slowly, as I held her gently against me.

I picked up my phone and swiped across to see the time.

"Do you have to go home?" she asked, anticipating what I was about to say. There was a note of disappointment in her voice.

"I was going to sleep at James'," I said. "My stuff's in the car, but I guess I'll just go back home."

"Can you stay here?" she asked, "Please? Not to do anything," she paused, frowning, "but just to be here?" Her eyes, pleaded with me, seeking reassurance.

"Yes, OK" I said. "I can sleep down here if you'd like. I've got my sleeping bag and my air bed."

"Air bed?" she asked.

"Yes." I replied. "I got fed up of sleeping on floors and sofas after parties, so I keep an air mattress in the back of my car now."

"You're just so organised!" she said, raising her lips to kiss mine again. Feeling a little more adventurous this time, I brought my right hand up to run my fingers gently through her hair, as our tongues danced.

We kissed, perhaps for five minutes or more.

"Amy," I said. "Let me get my stuff out the car and then we can cuddle for a bit before we go to bed. If you'd like that of course."

I brought in my holdall and the bag containing the air bed, which I unwrapped and spread over the floor as Amy watched from the sofa.

"The pump's a bit noisy," I said apologetically, before switching it on to inflate the mattress. Once complete, I rolled out my sleeping bag and placed my pillow at the head end.

Amy stood as I straightened up and we embraced in the centre of the sitting room.

"Thank you for staying," she said. She slipped her hands lower and grasped my buttocks through my jeans. "Mmm," she murmured, "you do have a lovely bottom."

We kissed again.

"Goodnight Jake," she said. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight Amy," I replied as she disappeared through the door. I listened as her footsteps lightly ascended the stairs.

I was alone. I took some deep breaths and attempted to process everything that had happened that evening. If anyone had told me an hour earlier that I would be sleeping on Amy's sitting room floor that night, having just shared my first kiss with her, I would have laughed at them.

-

Coming from a farming family, rising early is second nature and, on a normal day, it would be unusual for me to sleep past six. But the thick velvet curtains made Amy's sitting room surprisingly dark and the sunrise that would have woken me hours earlier at home, was all but blotted out.

I reached across and checked my phone. Nothing from Mum, or anyone at the party. I decided to message home to say I'd be back 'in the afternoon', hoping that if I promised I was going to 'do some revision with James at his house', this would (at least temporarily) stave off awkward questions. I toyed with the idea of texting Lauren to ask her to cover for me, but figured this was more trouble than it was worth - not only was Mum unlikely to ask her where I was, but I knew that Lauren would interrogate me when I did finally get home.

I pulled on my clothes, opened the curtains and looked out at the front garden. It was raining gently and little puddles had formed on the driveway.

Ordinarily I'd jump straight in the shower, but I certainly didn't want to go upstairs uninvited or risk waking Amy. I deflated the air bed, rolled up my sleeping bag and packed them away next to my holdall.

I opened the door and walked down the hallway to the under stairs bathroom. I splashed some water over my face and squinted in the mirror. At least there was one advantage of the ridiculous haircut that I'd got for the school play - my hair was permanently on end, not just when I woke up.

I walked into the kitchen and made a cup of tea. I sat at the table and waited for Amy to come down. It was half past eight - surely she'd appear soon?

-

I'd finished my first cup of tea and was almost through my second. I didn't want to wake Amy, but equally didn't want to leave before we had a chance to say goodbye - that would surely be the worst thing I could do! I walked back to my holdall and took out my maths notes, which I'd planned to go through with James later that day.

'Might as well make a start on the revision now,' I thought.

I opened the folder on the kitchen table, extracted a bundle of revision questions and began to work.

"A group of Egyptian slaves is building a pyramid for the pharaoh," I read. "They are required to drag a cube of limestone of mass 500 kg up an inclined plane at an angle of ten degrees to the horizontal. Assuming that the acceleration of objects on the earth's surface due to gravity is 9.81 m/s2, calculate the coefficient of friction which..."

I heard the sound of a key turning in the lock of the front door.

I froze.