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  I scowl. “Mum-”

  She barely pauses for breath. “Your friend is welcome to come along to the theme park with us, if he’d like to.”

  I shake my head. “No Mum, he’s-”

  She’s not even listening to me, she smiles at him. “Pia was like a wet blanket all day yesterday. She was convinced there was no one her age here.”

  I grit my teeth. “Mum, let me in, I need to get changed.”

  “Don’t be so impatient, we’ve got plenty of time,” she says, as she folds the dish towel. “Would you like to come with us? I’m sure Pia would enjoy your company,” she says to him.

  I squeeze my hands into fists. “No, Mum-”

  “That’s very kind of you, thank you, I’d love to.” He smiles at her. “How soon will you be leaving?”

  I stare at her in horror. “Mum, he’s not-”

  Mum twirls one of her curls around her finger. “In about forty-five minutes, dear.”

  “I need to take care of something, but I’ll be back before you leave,” he says to her.

  I shake my head. “Mum, I don’t want-.”

  But she isn’t listening; she’s already walking away, towards the kitchen. I stiffen and glare at him, my gaze burning a hole in his head. He winks at me. “See you soon…Pia.” He runs off, his bare feet slapping against the pavement. I step into the cottage, in a daze.

  Mum calls out from the kitchen. “What a nice young man. Handsome too, isn’t he?”

  I lean against the wall, my mouth open. What the hell just happened?

  CHAPTER THREE

  Pia

  I stomp upstairs and toss my bag onto the floor. I take off my bikini and wiggle into my jeans. The day is going to suck. Mum looks so happy, I no longer have the heart to tell her I can’t stand him, she thinks she’s doing something good for me. I slip my black top over my head and unfasten my bun. Reaching for my brush, I tug it through my hair. I need to fix it so that Mum and Dad don’t like him, that way I can be sure they won’t invite him along again. I unzip my make-up bag and stroke mascara onto my lashes. I just finish applying lip gloss when I hear the sound of the doorbell. I frown. Is he here already? That was fast. I hear the door open and then Mum calls out, “Pia, your friend is here.”

  I take a deep breath and slowly make my way down the stairs. He’s sitting at one end of the sofa. My gaze roams over him. He’s taken the time to put something on his feet; he’s now wearing converse shoes. It’s on the tip of my tongue to thank him for making such an effort, but I bite it back. He has three leather corded friendship bracelets, two black and one brown, around his right wrist and a yin and yang pendant on a black cord around his neck.

  Mum clears her throat. “Pia, are you going to introduce us to your friend?” She gestures towards him.

  My brain freezes and I gape at her with my mouth open. They think I know who he is. I can’t tell them I don’t know his name. What do I say? He opens his mouth, but before he can speak I jump in. “His name’s Ima Jerkoff,” I announce. I notice Mum and Dad’s eyes widen in shock. Ha, get out of that one, jerk. I fold my arms and smirk at him. He covers his mouth with his hand; he appears to be having a coughing fit.

  When he finally stops coughing, he looks right at me. He bites his lip. His eyes remain locked with mine for what feels like way too long, I’m sure my family must have noticed, I swallow and lick my dry lips. Mum breaks the silence. “Ima, that’s an unusual name,” she says.

  His gaze flicks to her, and he smiles. “It’s Polish; it’s a common name in Poland.”

  My mouth falls open.

  “Are you Polish?” Mum asks.

  “Err…no. My Grandfather was,” he says.

  “Pia’s name comes from Latin, so it’s Italian I suppose,” Mum clasps her hands together, “but we’re not from Italy.”

  His gaze shifts back to me and trails from my head to my feet and back up again. “Wherever it’s from, it’s beautiful,” he says, his voice seems to have become huskier.

  My skin feels like it’s on fire. I look down at my hands and twist my ring around my finger.

  “That’s what we thought,” Mum says. I glance up to see her beaming at him. Oh hell no, this is not going the way I intended. I scowl at him. I’m not going to let him get the better of me.

  “My name’s Linda,” Mum says to him. She waves her hand in Dad’s direction. “This is my husband, Ian.”

  Jake stands up and holds out his hand. “My name’s Jake,” he tells him, “I’m Pia’s brother.”

  The jerk shakes his hand.

  I smile sweetly at my dad. “Oh Dad, it was terrible when Ima was in prison, he was always getting teased because of his name.”

  Dad leans forward in his chair and shoots a look at the jerk. “Prison,” Dad says, his eyebrows knotting together. I think Mum has stopped breathing, her gaze flicks back and forth between the jerk and my dad. Jake’s eyes bulge. I have to cover my mouth to stop from laughing as I watch the colour drain from the jerk’s face; his eyes are wide and fixed on my dad, his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Something tells me he won’t be accompanying us today after all.

  He licks his lips. “Erm…I worked as a prison officer for a short time, but I realised that job wasn’t for me.”

  Dad visibly relaxes and Mum lets out a nervous giggle. Jake looks disappointed. Unbelievable, this guy has an answer for everything.

  Dad leans back in his chair. “So what do you do for a living now, Ima?”

  The jerk dips his head and twists his friendship bracelets around and around his wrist. There’s silence, until he eventually answers. “I want to be a chef.”

  Mum claps her hands together. “Ooh, like the ones on the TV?”

  He wrinkles his nose. “I doubt I’ll ever be on the TV.”

  Mum’s eyes light up. “Do you make desserts?”

  I can’t take it anymore; I head to the kitchen and fill a glass with water. I sip at it as I gaze out of the window at our car out in the parking lot. I can hear them talking but I can’t hear what they’re saying and I’m thankful for that. I hate lying to my parents and now, thanks to me, they think I have a friend named Ima, of Polish descent, who used to be a prison officer. I shake my head. What have I done? Worst of all, I haven’t even achieved my objective, he’s still going to be spending the day with us and Mum and Dad seem to like him.

  “Pia,” Dad calls out. “Are you ready? We’re about to leave.”

  I hook my bag on my shoulder and feel my jeans pocket to check for my phone. I’m sure I’ll get a signal once we’re out of this village, and I’m praying Fay’s been able to get me that date, or at the very least Antonio’s number. I’m smiling just thinking about it. As I head to the door, I sense the jerk behind me. I jump as his lips brush my ear.

  “I think round two goes to you, Precious,” he whispers.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Pia

  Mum gets in the front passenger seat of the car, and I climb into the back. “Jake, you sit in the middle next to me because you’re the smallest,” I tell him. The jerk sits down next to Jake, Dad starts the engine and we’re on our way. Dad lights up a cigarette, he always smokes when he’s driving, I think it’s out of habit. I open my window to let in some air and clutch my phone, ready to send a text as soon as I get a signal. Mum switches on the radio, they’re playing ‘Summer Holiday’ by Cliff Richard, Mum starts singing along and Dad joins in. I shake my head and stare out of the window. Why do parents have to be so embarrassing?

  “Ima, do you like zombie books?” Jake asks him.

  I smile to myself; he’s going to have to answer to that name for the entire day.

  “Sure,” he replies, “I like all kinds of books.”

  “My favourite books are Harry Potter, and The Hunger Games,” Jake says. He scrunches his nose. “Pia likes books about love, and relationships,” Jake says in a silly voice, “and romance.”

  The jerk chuckles. “Romance, ugh.” He puts his fingers in his mouth a
nd makes a gagging noise, which seems to delight Jake.

  “Have you got a computer?” Jakes asks him.

  I sigh, this is going to be a long journey with Jake playing twenty questions.

  “Yes, I’ve got a computer. Have you?” The jerk asks.

  “I’ve got a laptop. Do you go on Facebook?”

  “Yes I do.”

  “You’ll have to friend me, my name’s Jake Hamilton.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. Seriously, is Jake that desperate for friends? I’d rather forget all about this jerk when we leave Cornwall. I check my phone again, and sigh, maybe it’s broken. Mum turns around. “Why do you keep sighing, Pia? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing Mum. I’m checking for a signal, so I can text Fay.”

  “Oh for goodness sake.” Mum frowns at me. “Anyone would think you can’t survive a day without her. You’re going to be seeing her in two weeks.”

  The jerk digs around in his jeans pocket and pulls out his phone. He hands it to me. “I’ve got a signal, you can use my phone.”

  I want to say no, but I really, really want to know if I have a date with Antonio. I take his phone. “Thank you.” I quickly fire off a text to Fay.

  It’s Pia. Have u txt me? Got no sig. Did he say yes?

  Fay always has her phone with her and usually replies quickly. Sure enough a beep lets me know I have a message.

  Antonio, he say YES.

  A grin spreads across my face; I fight to resist the urge to squeal. I send her another text.

  Did he set a date? Or give me his number?

  She replies almost immediately.

  I txt him your number now.

  I delete the messages and pass the jerk his phone. He raises an eyebrow. “Good news, was it?”

  My grin is so wide my cheeks are hurting and I can feel my heart beating faster. I have a date with Antonio; I can’t wait to get home. I notice him staring at me and I realise he just asked me a question. Now is my chance to get rid of him for good. “It’s the best news ever. I’ve got a date with a tall, dark and handsome Italian guy.”

  “What Italian guy?” Mum asks.

  “He’s a friend of Fay’s,” I tell her. The jerk has gone quiet; he’s staring into his lap and twisting his friendship bracelets around his wrists. Yes. Success.

  His phone beeps, he looks at the screen, and laughs, then he passes his phone to me. “This must be for you, either that, or I have an admirer.”

  Frowning, I read the message.

  Sweetcheeks. Wen r u home?

  It’s from Antonio. I press my lips together. Why did Fay give him this number?

  The jerk glances at me. “Use my phone…sweetcheeks.” He smirks. “I’ve got unlimited texts.”

  Ugh, I can feel my face burning. Why did Antonio have to text his phone? I type out a quick message.

  Not my phone. My phone has no sig.

  I hit send and pass the phone back to him. I mumble a thank you. A few seconds later, his phone beeps yet again. He reads the message, grins and holds it out to me. This is mortifying, I need to stop this. I hold my hand up; I don’t take the phone or look at the message. “Please will you tell him that it’s your phone he’s texting and that you’re not me. Tell him I’ll text him when I have a signal, please.”

  He nods his head. “Okay.” He taps away at his phone and then slides it back into his pocket.

  “We’re driving through Bodmin Moor,” Dad says. We all look out of the windows but there isn’t much to see, just grass. I pick at my phone case, trying to get the back off. Maybe I can get it going if I take the sim card out and put it back in again.

  “The haunted jail is in Bodmin. Please can we go there, Mum?” Jake asks.

  I try to slide my thumbnail between the front and back of the phone case but I can’t find a gap, or get any leverage.

  “I told you already, Jake, I don’t like jails or ghosts,” Mum replies.

  I finally manage to open the case, but I’ve broken my thumb nail doing it.

  “The living hurt you more than the dead,” the jerk says. “If it’s okay with you, I can take Jake to the jail.”

  I slide my sim card out.

  “Yes,” Jake yells. “Can we go tomorrow?”

  “Next week is better for me. Do you want to come with us, Pia?” The jerk asks.

  I blow on my sim. “Whatever.”

  Dad slams on the brakes and as I jolt forward the sim slips from my fingers. I curse. “Sorry about that,” Dad says, as he moves off again, “a fox ran into the road.”

  I scan the floor around my feet, but I can’t see my sim anywhere.

  “Do you live here, Ima, or are you on vacation too?” Mum asks.

  “I live here,” he says.

  “Mum, can you see my sim card on the floor anywhere?”

  Mum takes a quick glance. “No dear, it’s not here. I wish I lived by the sea.”

  “I prefer driving here, there’s less traffic,” Dad says.

  I feel around on the seat and squeeze my hand around the back of Jake, in case it slipped down the seat behind him. He scowls at me.

  “Where are you from?” The jerk asks.

  “London, Greenwich to be exact,” Dad says.

  I take off my seatbelt, crouch down on the floor and slide my hand under Dad’s seat. “Pia, what on earth are you doing?” Mum asks.

  “Found it.” I hold up my sim card triumphantly. Mum rolls her eyes. I slide it back into my phone and click the case closed. I turn it on. Yes. Finally, I have a signal.

  “We’re here,” Dad says.

  As we pull into the parking lot, I glance up to see a large sign that reads, ‘Spirit of the West.’

  The second the car comes to a stop, I jump out and begin typing a message to Fay.

  UR my best friend ever.

  We head into the shop to buy the entry tickets. Dad gets out his credit card. The jerk holds some cash out to Dad to pay for his ticket, but Dad refuses to take it. My phone beeps. It’s Fay.

  Antonio says date is off.

  I frown and text a reply.

  Why?

  Mum, Dad and Jake go off to use the toilets. The jerk stands with his hands in his pockets, gazing at me. My phone beeps.

  He thinks u a lesbian.

  My thumb moves at super speed.

  Wot?

  I haven’t a clue what she’s talking about, and her next message is even more puzzling.

  He says u sent him a rude txt.

  I respond.

  Wot rude text?

  I chew on my broken thumb nail until my phone beeps again.

  I forward u it.

  Forwarded message: Quit texting me. I’m not your sweetcheeks. I’m not into men, I like women.

  Realisation dawns on me. I wave my phone in the jerks face. “You sent him this message. Why?”

  He shrugs. “You told me to tell him not to text, and to let him know I’m not you. That’s what I did.”

  “I didn’t ask you to tell him I’m a lesbian.” My voice sounds loud and shrieky even to me. I glance around to see if anyone heard me, but no one is looking in our direction.

  He laughs, and I feel my body tensing. “Precious, I never told him you were a lesbian. I told him ‘I’ am not into men, and that ‘I’ like women.”

  I start to shake. “I’m not your Precious. He didn’t know you wrote the text, he thought I wrote it.”

  He grins and shrugs his shoulders. “It’s not my fault the man’s an idiot.”

  I stare down at my feet, it’s pointless arguing with him. “I’ve been waiting weeks for a date with him.”

  He steps closer until he’s standing toe to toe with me. He smells of lime and herbs. “He would have been a disappointment.”

  I glance up into his eyes; they look soft, like he genuinely cares how I’m feeling. Which obviously he doesn’t, or he wouldn’t have sent that stupid text in the first place. “How do you know? You’ve never even met him.”

  “I don’t need t
o. I can tell from his texts that he’s a dick.”

  I fold my arms and look away from him. “It takes one to know one. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now, the date’s off.”

  He places his finger under my chin and tips my face up towards his, as he dips his head down towards mine. Our eyes lock and he gazes at me, just gazes, without saying a word, and I feel like he’s seeing right into me, through my muscles and bones, right to my core. His eyes never leave mine as he whispers, “If he gave up that easily, he didn’t want you badly enough.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Pia

  I hear Jake yelling, “C’mon you two, we’re going to pan for gold.”

  As the jerk steps away from me, it feels like he took all the air with him, and I’m finding it hard to breathe. I’m also shivering. Why do I feel cold when the sun is shining? As I walk behind him, I stare at the back of his head, and frown. My brain is having a battle with my body, and I want my brain to win. Why does my body have to be attracted to his? He’s arrogant and annoying, and right now I want my female hormones to just shut up and die.

  We spend the day panning for gold, watching a re-enacted cowboy shoot-out, exploring the set of a Wild West town and seeing how horseshoes are made. I’ve managed to avoid spending any more time alone with him, but every time I glance in his direction, he’s staring at me.

  “We’re going to look around the gift shop, are you coming, Pia?” Mum asks.

  I wrinkle my nose; I’m not interested in tacky tourist gifts. “No, I’m going to shoot at some tin cans.”

  The jerk raises his eyebrows. “You like to shoot?”

  “She’s good at shooting, she’s better than me,” Jake says. “Can I come with you?”

  “No,” Mum grabs his arm and pulls him away. “Let Pia have some time alone with her friend.”