Page 72 of Yearning Difficulties

It emboldened me.

I nestled closer and pressed my mouth to his neck. I closed my eyes as I felt him stop breathing altogether.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I murmured.

‘It’s okay,’ he said quietly. ‘I know you’re going through something. I shouldn’t have pushed you about the autistic thing. Even though it’s true.’

I smiled against his skin.

‘But I shouldn’t have pushed you,’ he echoed. ‘And I . . . just wish you could tell me what’s hurting you. Because there is something. For the past year, I thought it was that idiot you were dating. But it’s something deeper.’

He was right, of course. But I couldn’t talk about it.

His mouth found mine in the darkness and I knew it was not good for either of us. Not good for the boy who was trying to forget his true love. Not good for the girl who didn’t even know if she was capable of finding such a thing. But it felt incredible. It felt like medicine.

He might not love me like he did her but he was hungry for me. I could tell by how intensely he kissed me. When I hitched my leg over his body, he grunted and pulled me closer.

It would have to be enough. I ignored the heartbreak. I ignored the unfelt feelings that had been filed away.

And I especially ignored the mood ring on my finger, which now glowed a pearly pale blue colour.

Twenty-Five

Good Sport

Today’s Track: ‘Hotel Sayre’ by Craig Armstrong

Back at school, Radio Panache with Dave was unbearably awkward. He was still reeling with embarrassment about what had happened at the faire. Far too many people had seen him shove me down in order to get himself to safety.

And that was ultimately what concerned Dave the most. Other people.

Priya and I shared a look of sympathy for one another while he raged about a number of perceived slights against him instead of reading the school notices, and then we all went our separate ways for lunch.

Which I was dreading.

It might be time for me to retreat to eating by myself again.

The whole school was whispering about the scenes that had gone down on the weekend. Even though Killian and I had publicly ended our fake relationship people seemed far more interested in gossiping about the way he’d thrown his body over mine to protect me from a rampaging horse.

But none of them knew that his body had been over mine just a few hours ago, in a very different scenario. Anderson, Chris and Cherry were all sitting at our usual table and all three of them waved frantically at me after I’d filled up my tray with a slice of pizza, some salad and a glass of water. As Killian wasn’t with them, I didn’t feel I had to refuse. It was also nice to be waved over. It wasn’t something I was used to and I liked it.

Also, Cherry rarely ate lunch in the canteen, so I had to reward her for deigning to grace us with her presence. Her warm, open smile made me lighten a little as I sat next to her, across from the two boys.

‘How was last night, Zella?’ Anderson asked.

There was something jovial and expectant in his voice, like he was excited on my behalf. I gave him a quizzical look and then watched as the other boy winced. Chris had seemingly kicked him under the table, because Anderson’s smile faded into confusion.

‘No fun last night?’ he asked me, rephrasing his question with a touch of unease.

When I didn’t know what to say, Chris answered for me.

‘Judging by my brother’s unbelievably foul mood this morning, it didn’t go very well.’

I winced. ‘Did he tell you what happened?’

I’d slipped away and gone home to my own bed after Killian had fallen asleep. We hadn’t done anything more than heavy, breathless kissing. I’d stopped his hand as it had travelled between my thighs and he’d instantly taken the hint.

Cherry glanced between the three of us. ‘Excuse me, why am I being kept out of the loop here?’