Liam’s face broke into a broad smile.‘Well, took you long enough.I’m happy for you.’
Kat smiled, something fierce and fond in it.‘What are you still doing here?Go.Go and get her.She could be talking to anyone right now!’
‘Kat’s right.’ Liam shot me a brotherly look.‘You’ve kept her waiting long enough.It’s fair game.’
‘Not helping,’ I said, downing the rest of my beer and heading for the door.
Kat and Liam followed me to the door with an air of energy and excitement.
‘Wish me luck,’ I said, as I pulled open the door.
‘No,’ Kat said, smiling.‘You won’t need it.’
‘Yes, he does,’ Liam replied in that droll voice of his.‘Good luck!’
My lips twitched.Liam and I might have had some kind of breakthrough tonight, but it was oddly comforting to know some things never change.
Chapter Twenty
Lydia’s Diary, 16 Years Old
Prom was shit.
I hated my dress, the DJ was awful, and the whole thing felt like a waste of time.But then Ren and I ended up outside the hotel, just the two of us, talking for ages.Making stupid jokes about which teachers were definitely shagging and how Pete Jones looked constipated when he danced.
‘He goes so red and puffs out his cheeks,’ Ren said, flicking ash on to the pavement.
Yeah.He was smoking like an idiot.I blame the flask I’d been sipping from because I asked him why he was out here instead of with Lindsey.He shrugged and asked me the same thing – why wasn’t I with Tim?
I didn’t know what he meant.Tim asked.And I turned him down.
Ren went quiet, staring at the ground as he tapped his cigarette.Finally, he said something like, ‘Lindsey told me you were going with him.’
Before I could stop myself, I snorted and said, ‘Well, Lindsey was wrong.She probably just wanted you all for herself.’
Ren’s head tilted slightly, and he gave me this strange look.Like he was studying me, trying to work something out.Then he flicked his stupid cigarette away, shoved his hands in his pockets, and said, ‘I wish I’d asked you instead.’
And then it was my turn to go quiet.I always wondered if we’d ever cross the line between friends and… something else.I think I’ve already crossed it.And I’m ready to admit it.But he won’t.
So I just laughed it off and said, ‘Yeah, well.You didn’t.’
Lydia
‘So, do you domassages?’ James wiggled his eyebrows.
My phone vibrated, making my heart lurch into my throat.Ren had called and texted a few times since we got back from Wales.I couldn’t bring myself to answer.I was confused, shaken.I didn’t know where we stood.We hadn’t just kissed this time – he’d made me unravel in ways I’d been trying to forget for years – and I had no idea how I was supposed to forget that a second time around.
I glanced at my phone.It wasn’t Ren.It was that damn NO CALLER ID again.I hit the red button and returned to the infinitely dull man in front of me who was chattering on, oblivious to the fact I was barely listening.
James had latched himself on to me since the beginning of the singles night, when his mate nudged him and angled his head towards me.He shrugged and wandered over.
Pure romance.
I took a gulp of Prosecco and grimaced.It was warm and flat.
The social club was heaving, packed with a mixture of people between 25 and 35, the age range outlined in the guidelines Pat had typed up on the Eventbrite page.Cheesy noughties music played over the speakers and, as James droned on, I stared at the back of Amy’s head, as she chatted away to a hippy with baggy trousers and a man bun.Amy’s cropped pink hair glowed under the bar lights.I wished that we could ditch and have a proper girls’ night.But Amy had been looking forward to it, and I had committed to the night when I was newly single.
At the time I’d thought, Why not?What did I have to lose?
