Free Star-Crossed by Jo Cotterill Page B

like Ethan, no one can touch him.

Y our face is nearing Chris’s. You smile at the thought of his lips meeting yours for the first time, exploring the sensations that the new touch will bring. You shiver with excitement. His hands are stroking your face. Your heart is beating so fast you think it might get exhausted and quit beating, but it doesn’t, and you suddenly push your lips against Chris’s and close your eyes, drinking in his luxurious kiss. You’re in bliss…
    You shoot up in your bed with a jolt, covered in a cold sweat and feeling slightly sick. You run your hands through your sleep-crumpled hair, and lie back down slowly.
    You groan.
    Your head is filled with endless thoughts and emotions, and you feel too dizzy and sick to deal with them now. Do I like him? I did in that dream. I liked him a lot. But I hate him! How can I kiss him one moment, but hope he gets run over by a bus the next? You sigh. Things are too complicated right now. And you are not in the mood for facing a day at school. Or rehearsal. With Chris. But at the thought of Chris’s name you feel the power of that kiss and your self-loathing and guilt double in the space of a split second.
    Nope , you think. No school for me today.
    You turn over in your bed and stare at your clock. The letters glow in the dim morning light: 7.13 a.m. Reuben will be here in five minutes. You snuggle back into your duvet and wrap yourself up in it, hoping to hide from the world. No such luck.
    Your mum taps softly on your door. Mum … Dad … feud … oh God… The guilt comes back again and you begin to get a headache. You need some time off. Time to be ill , you think. So you relax instantly and pretend to be asleep. She opens the door and walks over to your bed.
    â€œJen … ?” she whispers, stroking your hair tenderly. “Jen, honey. It’s time to get up. Reuben will be here in five.”
    She’s so good to you. Even though she rushes around every morning to get ready for work, she still comes and gives you a calm, loving wake-up call if you haven’t hauled yourself out of bed by seven thirty. Your stomach contracts with guilt and you feel sick. The dream and the reality of the kiss are still fresh in your mind and you feel like you have told a whopping lie to both of your parents for not mentioning anything. When you came home last night you were in a bit of a state, and they both tried to come and talk to you, but you wouldn’t speak to either of them. You couldn’t. What would you have said? “ I’m fine! I’m only crying because I have just kissed my biggest enemy, who by the way happens to be the son of the man who you hate most, and I’m confused as to whether I like him or not! No big deal! ”
    You decided to stay quiet. However, the silence has only made your guilt double, and since realizing how great your mum is has now trebled it, you know that you will never get out of bed again.
    You stir slightly and turn, sleepy-eyed, to face your mother.
    â€œI don’t feel too good, Mum,” you murmur with a (faked) catch in your throat that sounds like the start of the flu. Your mum stares into your eyes worriedly, because you’re not ill very often. She places a hand on your forehead, which is hot and a little sweaty from your dream, and her frown deepens.
    â€œOK, honey. I’ll ring the school. Try to go back to sleep, yeah? I’ll tell Reuben for you.”
    You hate lying to your mum, but internally you sigh with relief. You can’t deal with school. You need to stay in bed. Warm, comforting bed.
    â€œThank you,” you whisper hoarsely, as she leaves the room.
    As soon as the door shuts you feel guilty, confused tears well up, but you squeeze your eyes tight to make them go away. You force yourself to think a little more rationally about the situation and go over the facts.
    I hate him. I hate Chris Banner, you think. But I also