Noughts and Crosses by Malorie Blackman (historical books to read TXT) 📕

‘Ignore me,’ I said, wiping my eyes. ‘Just go away, please.’

‘Do you hate me?’ asked Callum.

I was finding it hard to think straight. Callum had come after me . . . He had wanted us to be together. His hand was still stroking my abdomen but it was no longer soothing. Instead it seemed to burn through my clothes and straight down into my insides.

‘Do you?’ Callum prompted.

I shook my head. ‘Another place . . . another time . . . you and I . . .’

‘I don’t know anything about another place and another time,’ Callum interrupted. ‘All I know is here and now.’

And he bent his head to kiss me. He moved so quickly, I had no time to even be surprised. Before I could make a sound, his lips were on mine and I could see nothing but his face, his eyes. His lips were so soft. Even softer than I’d remembered. I’d daydreamed so many times of doing this, until I’d realized that I was dreaming about something that was never, ever going to happen. And then the dream had been, not exactly abandoned, but buried deep where not even I could reach it easily. But now the world had turned upside down and Callum was kissing me. His lips coaxed open my mouth, but there was very little coaxing to be done. I closed my eyes.

This wasn’t real.

None of it was real.

It couldn’t be.

It was forbidden.

Against the law.

Against nature.

So I was dreaming again. Lost in my own world where there were no noughts and Crosses. Just me and Callum, as Callum and I should be, whilst the rest of the world smiled kindly at us or turned their backs on us – but either way, we were left alone. Callum’s hand moved from my abdomen to my waist and higher. I pushed at his hand but it didn’t move. His kiss became gentler.

‘Callum . . .’

‘Shush! I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you. I love you,’ Callum whispered against my mouth. His breath was hot and made my insides melt. Uncertain, confused, I tried to pull away, but his kiss grew more urgent and all at once I didn’t want to move away any more. I pulled him closer to me, wrapping my arms around him, kissing him just as desperately as he was kissing me. Like if we could just love long enough and hard enough and deep enough, then the world outside would never, could never hurt us again. And then, it was as if we’d both caught fire. Sort of like spontaneous combustion and we were burning up together.

‘I love you,’ Callum whispered again.

But I could hardly hear him over the sound of my blood roaring in my ears. His hands were everywhere, moving over my arms, my breasts, my waist, my thighs. And every caress, every stroke robbed me of my breath and burnt through my skin. I pulled him closer and closer, my hands moving over his back and his bum and his legs. He sat up, pulling me with him. He raised my hands to pull off my jumper. I unbuttoned his shirt. He unfastened my bra. I unzipped his trousers. We stripped each other until we were both naked. And I was shaking. But not from the cold. I was melting inside. Never had I felt so scared and exhilarated and alive all at once. We both knelt on the bed, facing each other. Callum’s gaze moved down over my body. I’d never realized before just how physical a mere look could be. Callum reached out with both hands and touched my cheeks. He ran his hands over my lips and my nose and my forehead. I closed my eyes, just before his fingers softly touched my eyelids. And then moments later, his lips were exploring my face the way his hands had done. He lay me down gently, his hands and lips still exploring my body. I wanted to do the same to him. I was going to do the same to him. We were going to make this time last for ever. Callum was right. We had here and now. And that was all that mattered. I let myself drift away, following wherever Callum led. Beside him all the way as he led me into a real, unreal world. Not quite heaven. Not quite hell.

I sat up, scrambling for my jeans and my jumper. I couldn’t stop sobbing. My head was pounding and my nose was running and my throat was hurting, but I couldn’t stop.

‘Sephy . . .’ Callum began.

Did I look like him? So miserably unhappy after what had just happened to us? If I did, then I wouldn’t look at him again. His expression was my reflection. I pulled on my jeans and my jumper and hunted frantically for my sandals. I was aware of Callum getting dressed even though I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.

Stop weeping . . . Just stop . . .

But I couldn’t. More tears for the impossible. My sandals were on the wrong feet. I didn’t know what I was doing. I kicked them off and tried again, still weeping.

‘Sephy, please . . .’

Callum tried to put his arms around me. I pushed him away. He pulled me toward him again, which just made me cry harder and push against him more frantically.

The door of my prison cell was flung open and in ran Jude and Morgan, only to stop abruptly when they saw Callum and me together on the bed. Callum leapt up, but it was too late.

Stop crying . . . If only I could stop crying . . .

one hundred and two.

Callum

It’s not what you’re thinking . . . It’s exactly what you’re thinking . . . Someone say something. Anything.

Nothing.

‘What’s happened?’ I asked at last.

‘You tell us,’ Jude said with quiet menace.

He kept looking from me to Sephy and back again.

‘Where’s Leila?’

‘Arrested,’ Morgan