Gr 8 Up-Henderson draws readers once again into the world of young British socialites in a book fraught with tension, romance, and adventure. I hear her slippers slapping back along the corridor, and the sound of her bedroom door slamming shut. "This has got to stop," Aunt Gwen grumbles loudly. And she hates me.īut that's okay, because I hate her, too. She doesn't care about what happened to me. How can she expect me just to push that aside as if it never happened?Īunt Gwen huffs again, even louder. "I really can't."Īunt Gwen knows what happened to me this summer: she knows a boy I was kissing dropped dead at my feet. It's a famous Aunt Gwen noise I've heard students imitating it in the corridors. Only Aunt Gwen would use a word like invigilate at-I squint at the clock-4:30 in the morning. "I have a very busy day tomorrow! I have geography tests to invigilate for the lower fourth!" "I was having a nightmare, Aunt Gwen," I say, flinching.
"Scarlett!" she yells, though there's no need because she's standing right over the bed. Ugh, I just emerged from a nightmare and dropped bang-slap into another one. The hair sticking up like a deranged puffball, the warty forehead, the watery eyes. By night, she's like a monster from a children's book. When I manage to open my eyes, I keep blinking. Even that's hard, as I'm still trippy from my dream. I hear her before I see her, because I'm still really disoriented and my eyes are crusty with sleep. It isn't locked, which is a mistake on my part. I wake up screaming, but I don't know what words I'm yelling.Īunt Gwen tries the door. He's lying under me, and he's colder than the stone.Īnd the police are banging down the door to arrest me. I land with a thud that knocks the breath out of me, on a soft squish of body, and it's such a shock that I scream.Īnd then I realize what I've landed on, and I scream even louder. Cold stone around me, cold breeze blowing, an utter sense of loss that a moment ago I was pressed against Dan's warm body, and now I'm all alone. I fall for miles, down a deep, deep well, like Alice in Wonderland. I know how to fall, from gymnastics, but this is different, because I'm completely out of control, my limbs flailing. I feel like I'm about to faint, and as my legs begin to wobble, suddenly he's gone. My head is swimming with all the different sensations, the taste of champagne on his mouth, the lemony smell of his soap, the musk of his skin. I've never been this close to a boy in my life. His lips are so soft, I could melt into them, and his arms, briefly, briefly, are heavy around my shoulders. I could stare at him all day.īut instead, I kiss him. I've never seen anything as handsome as him before. He's laughing his eyes are bright with excitement.
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