Seb doesn’t labour the point. ‘I’m not big on crowds either.’
‘But youwerein a band,’ Clara says.
‘Do I mention it that much?’
‘Don’t worry,’ she says. ‘It’s sexy.’
It’s clear that she’s testing the water. Seb clicks his teeth, turns his eyes towards the door. He can’t look at her, and she can’t look away. They talk more about the band, about its members. When he gets on to the topic of his friends, Seb seems to relax a little. Familiar territory. Home ground.
‘His name is Smudge?’ Clara is saying.
‘No, his name is Ben,’ Seb replies.
‘Then why is he called Smudge?’
‘No one can remember,’ he says. ‘But that’s not the story.’
‘What’s the story?’
‘He’s started a surfacing business,’ Seb says. ‘He has a van, and on the side it says, “Ben Morris Surfacing”.’ He falters a little, gives the look of someone who knows a joke won’t be as funny in the retelling. ‘So all the other guys shout it, now. If we’re on holiday together. If he gets out of the pool.’
Clara snorts, though possibly only out of sympathy. ‘It must be nice,’ she says. ‘Having such close friends.’
‘You don’t have friends?’
‘One or two,’ she says. ‘My flatmate, Ren. I’d kill for her. But I’ve always been happy in my own company.’
‘Lone wolf,’ Seb replies, with a certain kind of look.
‘I don’t need anyone.’
‘Everyone needs people.’
She shrugs. ‘I don’t.’
‘You would say that.’
‘You think I need you?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
Clara looks down, bites her lip. The teacher can tell that she’s getting frustrated. That she wants something from Seb, and that it isn’t this. What happened between these two? Where does it all go from here? The teacher’s chips have arrived. He doesn’t have much of an appetite.
‘I don’t abandon things,’ Clara says, abruptly.
‘What?’
‘You said I abandon things,’ she continues. ‘And it touched a nerve, because I know I didn’t call, and I didn’t give you an explanation. And now you have a certain perception of me. But that isn’t me, either. That isn’t what I do. I see things through.’
‘If you say so.’
‘No,’ she insists. ‘I know I talk a lot, and I make jokes, and you think you know me, and you think I lay everything on the table.’ Her voice falters. ‘And I wasn’t totally honest – but I was there on that bus, and I’m still here, and that means something. I’m here because I felt like we understood each other.’ She fixes him with her icy blue eyes. ‘I don’t think I’ve felt like that before.’
‘That’s why you’re here?’ Seb says.
This time, he doesn’t look away. The intensity of his gaze makes her blink. She picks, suddenly and self-consciously, at the hem of her oversized jumper.
‘You know why I’m here,’ she says, quietly.
