Because of Her by K. E. Payne

Author:K. E. Payne [Payne, KE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781626390942
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2014-03-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-four

The fencing competition, when we finally got there, was awesome. Actually, it was beyond awesome. It was by far the best thing I’d ever taken part in, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it, even for days afterwards.

When we arrived, we were ushered into changing rooms at the arena, more or less straight away; me, Eden, and Freya to one side, Greg, Tim, and Liam to the other. Each trio disappeared into their respective changing room, kit bags ready. There was much chattering and far too many nerves. This was a huge occasion for the school, Rob kept telling us. That didn’t do anything to assuage my anxiety at representing my school for the first time in my life.

“At last we all get to see you in your breeches.” Eden leant over and patted me on the back, looking over to Freya across the room. “Do you know this one has a breech-phobia, Freya?” she called out. I wanted to curl up in a ball.

“What could possibly be wrong with wearing them?” Freya called back. “I mean, look at me.” She flapped her hands up and down her body. “You’re not telling me these don’t look the business?”

I looked at Freya’s sparkling white breeches, cut just below the knee, and groaned.

“You look okay in yours,” I said. “You have legs with shape, unlike my skinny, shapeless, puny things.” I lifted one leg and waggled my foot.

“You forget—I’ve already seen your legs,” Eden said, leaning over the bench next to me to rummage in her bag. “So quit being so coy about it and get changed.”

She pulled out her breeches and shook them out, then held them to her chest and smoothed them down with her hands.

“When?” I asked, looking up at her. “When exactly have you seen my legs?”

“At the hospital that time,” Eden replied, placing her breeches back on the bench and unbuttoning her jeans.

She remembered that? That means she must have remembered the Simpsons boy shorts, too.

Great.

I cringed. I also desperately tried to ignore the sight of Eden’s legs as she wriggled her jeans down over her hips and down to her ankles. Not easy, bearing in mind she was bending over, just inches from me. She kicked her jeans off and bent over to retrieve them, revealing far more cleavage than I felt able to cope with minutes before a competition. Totally unfair. The wall to my left suddenly became very interesting as I steadfastly stared at it.

“Remember?” Eden asked.

By the time I turned back, Eden had pulled her breeches up and was buttoning them at the waist.

“Hmm?”

“You had to pull your trousers down in front of me at the hospital when you crocked your knee,” Eden said matter-of-factly. “You were wearing Simpsons shorts, I remember.”

Great. Fucking great.

“Anyone who can wear those in public has absolutely no right to be modest about either showing her legs or wearing breeches,” she continued. “So get off your arse and get dressed.” She whacked my arm playfully with the back of her hand.

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