Popping The Cherry. Aurelia Rowl B.

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СКАЧАТЬ were rife, ranging from her living in a caravan in true ‘trailer trash’ style, to living with her mother and her mum’s sugar daddy in some fancy mansion. To be honest, I didn’t really care where Alice lived so long as she stayed out of my way and kept her nose out of my and my friends’ business.

      At least our usual table was still free. I dumped my bag on a chair and joined the line of people queuing to get some food. The others still hadn’t shown up when I carried my tray back to the table. After another glance around the canteen, I was certain they weren’t just sitting somewhere else instead, and the first flutter of concern hit me, so I reached into my bag, grabbed my phone and checked for messages, but there was nothing. No new texts and no voicemail.

      Where the hell were they?

      For all four of them to be missing was just plain weird, ominous even, assuming they were all together somewhere. My stomach flipped, leaving me with a bad feeling and threatening to put me off my salad. The thought of their colluding without me was never a good thing. I dashed off a quick text to Gemma to check she was OK, my fingers flying across the touch-screen keypad, then propped my phone up against my bottle of water where I couldn’t miss it when—if—it went off.

      Oh, well, there was nothing for it but to start without them. I snatched up my fork up and stabbed a piece of chicken with enough force to send the cherry tomatoes flying. Damn it! As I chewed, I popped them back onto my plate and stared at my phone, willing it to buzz. Ever hopeful—or delusional—I kept my eye on the main entrance but they still hadn’t turned up by the time I’d finished my salad.

      Stuff them, then.

      I had far better things to do than sit on my own getting pity looks, and I was done waiting. The sun was out for a start and I could be out in the fresh air rather than being stuck inside. As I pushed back, my chair made a dreadful scraping sound, like nails down a blackboard, attracting even more unwanted attention. The burning sensation in my face told me I’d gone as red as the tomatoes, so I bent my head and stowed my phone back into my bag to avoid making eye contact, then grabbed my apple.

      Definitely time to get out of there.

      I was halfway to standing when Gemma appeared through one of the side doors, closely followed by Flick, Chloe and Piper.

      Gee, thanks for the invite, girls.

      They made Charlie’s Angels look tame as they strode towards me en masse. My pulse spiked and I eyed the doorway, ready to flee, but there was no way I could get there in time.

      ‘I was just leaving,’ I said, trying to sound as if I didn’t give a damn, but my voice cracked and betrayed me. I collapsed back into my seat and glared at them instead. It was either get angry or burst into tears. ‘Where have you been?’ I demanded, my tone getting more high-pitched with each syllable.

      ‘Sorry,’ Gemma said, not sounding the slightest bit sorry. ‘I thought I’d texted you to say we were going to be a bit late, but I’ve just spotted the failed-delivery message. I must be out of credit after calling Ben during first break.’

      ‘So where were you? I asked, as Gemma plonked herself in the seat opposite me. Chloe and Piper took up the seats either side of me, and Flick chose the chair next to Gemma. ‘And what were you doing that took so long?’

      Gemma quirked her perfectly plucked eyebrows at me. ‘This, my dear Lena, is an intervention.’

      Chapter Two

       INTERVENTION

      ‘A what?’

      Heads turned to look at us, my words coming out louder than intended.

       Gah!

      Gemma waited until everybody had gone back to minding their own business. ‘An intervention,’ she said, completely matter-of-fact, using the same tone she’d use to tell me I had lettuce stuck in my teeth. ‘We, as in all four of us—’ she paused for dramatic effect and waved her hand to include Flick, Chloe and Piper ‘—are all agreed that you need our help.’

      ‘Is that so?’ I asked.

      Flick suddenly seemed determined to avoid eye contact but I refused to let her off the hook. She finally gave in and offered me a small shrug, along with a resigned smile.

      Not good.

      The heavy feeling in my gut got even worse. ‘Help with what, exactly?’

      Gemma met my glare head-on. ‘You need to lose your virginity.’

      ‘Pardon?’ I hissed, unable to believe my ears.

      ‘Don’t you see, Lena?’ she said, not backing down so much as an inch. ‘You have so many hang-ups about sex, you’re like a faulty telephone.’

      ‘You’re joking, right?’ I forced out a laugh. Gemma jutted out her jaw even further, not even a flicker of a smile. My nails pierced the apple, the juice running down my fingers to form a satisfying puddle on the table. ‘Don’t tell me this is your big plan.’

      ‘It’s a damn sight better than being dumped.’

      ‘Whoa, hang on,’ I said, narrowing my eyes to accuse each of them. ‘Are you all saying I should have slept with Damian?’

      ‘No way.’

      ‘Eww, no.’

      ‘Not at all.’

      ‘Nuh-uh.’

      They all answered at the same time, their voices jumbled together so I couldn’t be sure who said what. At least we were all agreed on something.

      ‘You can do a million times better than him,’ Flick said.

      ‘Which is exactly what I said,’ Gemma said. ‘And that’s where we come in.’

      ‘Huh?’

      ‘We had a little brainstorming session and came up with the most wicked idea.’ Gemma reached into her tote and produced a piece of A4 paper with a flourish. I could already see Piper’s cursive handwriting running down one side.

      ‘Wicked as in evil and demonic, or wicked as in excellent?’

      ‘It’s good to see you’ve still got your sense of humour.’

      ‘Who’s joking?’

      Gemma ignored my outburst and started to slide the page towards me, but then she noticed the state of the table. ‘Bloody hell, Lena, what did the apple ever do to you?’ She prised the mangled apple out of my grip and dumped it on my tray. ‘You’ve well and truly murdered it,’ she said, grabbing a load of napkins. She tossed one to me, then used the rest to mop up the juice and bits of pulp. ‘Right, let’s try that again,’ she said, finally getting back to the sheet of paper and offering it to me. ‘Here is your mission, should you choose to accept it.’

      In no mood for one of her silly games, I snatched it off her and scanned the page. It turned out to be a list of names, all of them boys, and some of whom I recognised. And then I noticed the title: ‘Operation: СКАЧАТЬ