‘I couldn’t help thinking about what you said.’ Tori speaks fast. Almost like it’s a big effort to get the words out. And I scan equally fast through my few scraps of memory of Saturday night. Doesn’t take me long, let’s put it like that.
‘What did we talk about?’ My voice sounds rough.
Tori hesitates. ‘You don’t remember?’
‘’Fraid not.’
‘Well, then, I guess it can’t be that important.’
‘Hm.’ I turn around. ‘Sounds kind of important to me.’
She looks at me, and it must be down to the warm light in here, but her skin looks kind of golden. I want to go to her and touch every one of her freckles. It’s not fair.
‘Sinclair, I don’t know . . .’ she says evasively.
‘You have to tell me,’ I persist. ‘Come on, Tor. Seriously. You can’t drop a hint like that and clam up on me.’
‘You wanted to know what it feels like to be noticed by the person you want to kiss,’ she blurts. It sounds as though she’s spent ages thinking about the exact wording of that question.
There’s silence between us. Very awkward silence. And then the memories crawl back into my head.
Shit, she’s right. I might actually have said that. Am I that much of an eejit? My body turns to ice as I start to realize what it means. I was pissed out of my mind and I told her what I want from her.
‘And I was just wondering what . . .’ She pauses as I still don’t say anything. ‘I was wondering who you meant.’
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Keep calm, man. We know the answer, we both know it. Because obviously I meant her. Because I spend an unhealthy amount of time thinking about how soft her mouth is. About Tori’s warm lips, even though I only felt them on mine for a pathetic fraction of a second. Back then, a hundred years ago, I was so overwhelmed that I couldn’t hold onto any of the details. It’s grim. And now she wants to know who I meant. Tori knows it’s her. That it’s always been her. All this time. And I should tell her so but I can’t.
‘Eleanor.’
The lie is out before I have time to think.
And Tori goes pale. Only a shade, but I’ve spent so many hours of my life watching her. I can’t miss the way Tori spends a wee while fighting to keep calm. She gulps, she blinks. It’s like someone’s slipped a knife between my ribs and is slowly twisting it.
‘No idea, I was steaming,’ I say hastily. ‘And then she was there and I, well . . . It didn’t exactly help seeing Eleanor.’
Shit, what am I saying? I still like Eleanor – she’s witty, funny and intelligent – but she doesn’t make me go weak at the knees. I know that, but I’m not sure whether Tori knows it too. I don’t like the fact that she’s apparently seen Eleanor as a rival since that unfortunate situation in the third form. Maybe I had a wee crush on Ellie back then but, to be honest, everyone knows that that was only as a distraction from my major crush on Tori. Seems to have worked. Better than I intended.
‘Oh, I see.’ Tori’s eyebrows twitch as she tries to control her expression. ‘I thought . . .’
‘What did you think?’ I ask.
Say it. Come on.
Say you thought I meant you. Because I did. I’m just incapable of admitting it.
‘Whatever.’ She straightens her shoulders. ‘For a moment, I thought you meant me.’
I’m on the point of just nodding because she’s bloody well right, but Tori sounds so sarcastic that I can’t move. She laughs and I’m certain it’s the most painful sound I’ve ever heard. I can hardly bear it, so I join in. What should I do? Maybe I wasn’t clear enough, but in this situation I’m amazed at how impossible it is to find the guts to take the words back. Respect to anyone who can. Evidently I’m a coward because just the thought of telling Tori the truth has me shitting myself. That I want to kiss her because I’ve bloody well got feelings for her. That I do care if she kisses Valentine Ward. No, not care. It drives me insane to stand there and know it’s not me holding her like that. And every time I imagine saying so, the same thing happens in my head: Tori looks at me, first surprised, then shocked. Then embarrassed, and then we laugh.
Ha-ha, only joking, ha-ha. Good one. Very funny. Course I don’t like you like that. We’re friends. Just friends.
I only notice that I’ve clenched both fists when Tori glances at them. We’re not laughing any more.
‘But you really were steaming.’ She runs her hands awkwardly through her hair. I want to tell her there’s a bit of flour on the balls of her thumbs.
‘It was boring without you so I had to drink.’
