Me:Hey, do you know what alliumphobia is a fear of?
The quiz will have moved on by several questions by now, but I still want to know. Sure, I could have looked it up on the Internet. Why didn’t I?
Jett:A fear of garlic.
Me:Did you know that, or did you have to look it up?
Jett:I knew it.
Me:How?
Jett:I was interested in phobias when I was a kid.
I squint as I read his message.
Me:Why?
Jett:I don’t know. I just was. I tried memorising the meaning and spelling of every phobia. Did you know that hippopotomonstrosequipedaliophobia is a fear of long words?
Me:That’s just cruel.
Jett:It is.
Me:How do you even say that? Never mind. I’m going to forget that word even exists.
Jett:That’s probably for the best.
Me:I’ll be there in an hour or so.
Jett:See you soon.
I type out a new message: I do a pub quiz with friends on Sundays. Do you want to come along one week?
I stare at the message, my thumb hovering over the Send button. In the end, I delete it. We’re not dating. Jett hasn’t done anything to suggest we might start dating. And that’s okay. I put my phone away and join my friends inside.
“There’s a five-minute break, and then we’re having a sports round,” Aria groans.
“I like sports questions,” Olly says.
“Someone has to.”
“I need to go after the next round,” I tell them.
“Why?” Aria asks.
“I need to go see someone.”
She folds her arms. “Stop being evasive.”
“How was that evasive?”
“She wants details,” Elouise says.
“You are seeing someone, aren’t you?” Nathan asks.
There’s no way they’re going to let me off. I console myself with the knowledge that they don’t know Jett. If I don’t tell them his name or who he is, I won’t be betraying his trust. Right?
“Sort of, yes.”
