One More Year 5 ~ Nifty

One More Year

by Bradley Scott

**Note:

This is a rewrite of an older story of mine on here called Another Day, which I never finished, and no longer really like, but I'm hoping to redeem it.

This is written in British/South African English, although almost all similar media I consume is American, so that will probably have its influence, but not on spelling. For the purposes of keeping this note short, I'll include specific non-common words I use in a list at the bottom.

**

**Disclaimer:

No underage sex happens between any of my characters. I tend to make that quite clear in the narrative, but just in case it isn't, I state it here. (This is also more Romance than Erotica, so the sex doesn't happen right away, but when it does, everyone is 18.)**

Chapter 5

"Jay... JAY." Angela was looking right at me. She and Sue had paused in whatever conversation they'd been having, and I got the sense I was supposed to be responding.

"Oh. Sorry. What were you saying?"

Sue sighed, although it was more of a breathless screech of exasperation, which was possibly fair. I'd been drifting all day. It was Tuesday, and I'd had two very long conversations with Eric, via text, since he'd first messaged me that Sunday night. It had resulted in me being unable to get him out of my mind. I'd somehow managed to avoid talking to Ellie about it yet, so I'd just quietly and happily been mulling over some of the things he'd said. I'd be giving her a ride home after AP Maths, so this brief window while we were sitting here and waiting for the lesson to start would probably be my last chance to think about him. Before Ellie started trying to pry, and ruining it somehow.

Angela and Sue, however, were in planning mode — and could not be deterred. "Sue and I were just saying we liked your catapult idea for the physics project. How would you like to break up the work?"

Right.

We'd naturally banded together when we'd gotten the assignment, and were told we could pick our own groups. None of us tended to trust other people in group projects, and we'd all usually end up micromanaging the whole thing. But when we worked together, we tended to be more relaxed about letting each other do our own parts. We'd rigorously check up on each other's work afterwards, but I think that also made us make more of an effort to ensure our work was ready for the scrutiny. Angela probably always did the most work in the wrapping-up stages of our projects, but it was probably less than she'd have to do with other group members, so she never really seemed to mind, and we tried to adjust the workload with that in mind.

"Ummm... I was thinking I could build the catapults, Sue could focus on the calculations and the content, and then maybe you could work on the poster and the report."

She began jotting things down, but talked through it at the same time. "Isn't building them going to be a lot of work? You said you didn't know what we were going to build them out of, and that it might take some iterations to get them right."

"I really don't mind. I think it might be fun." I shrugged. "I can always ask you for help if it looks like it's going slower than I think it will."

"Okay. Sue, do you want to focus on the equations? I'll write out the background and then when we're done, we can share. Then maybe I can make the poster, and you can put together the report?"

"Yes." Sue wrote down a few notes of her own. "Jay, what exactly am I supposed to be doing the equations for?"

"Shot distance, mostly. We'll compare things like arm length and the arc trajectory, and then other factors like the weight of material and how difficult it was to get some real life components — the onager will have an elastic, but I think in real life they used sinew, which would eventually rot."

"Ew," Sue said.

"Angela, that's probably in your part — materials that they used and the history of the different designs, and how hard it was to lug everything around. I'll send you some links about medieval army logistics. I don't know if they'll be useful, but they might be."

"Got it." Angela continued to take notes.

I never wrote as many things down as they did. I usually only put due dates on my calendar the day I got assignments, and I tried to just remember other details. Writing everything down seemed excessive. Occasionally I forgot things, but I was anxious enough about other people being upset with me that it was usually my own work I didn't take seriously, not group work.

It drove Sue crazy, and she was always yelling at me to write things down. Angela's only response was to just send me periodic reminders via text — she didn't seem to mind, as it seemed to fit into her efficient everyday routine. I don't know if it was threats of a violent response from Sue or the fear of disappointing Angela, but I had yet to let either of them down. But Sue was in most of my other classes, and she'd seen all the instances where my lack of organisation had screwed me over, so I suppose she had good reasons to be anxious.

There was a half-hour gap between school ending and AP maths starting, so we were just waiting in the classroom. It was still about fifteen minutes until the lesson started, so we were the only ones there. People usually went to the nearby cafe to get coffee or something. Jamie and Ellie had asked me if I wanted to go, but I still hadn't quite decided how I felt about being around Jamie. The arrival of Eric had pretty much chased away my crush on him, but I still felt like I should avoid him. I suppose it felt a bit disloyal, although that seemed kind of ridiculous.

I also just didn't want to invite any bro-to-bro confidences about the girl he may or may not have hooked up with at the party. Whether I would feel jealous didn't matter so much, really. I generally just never liked talking to guys about girls, especially if they were forward with details — and I could imagine Jamie would be. Although Ellie would have been there, so maybe I was overreacting for a simple trip to the cafe, but you can't be too careful with these things.

The door opened, and we all looked up at once as Louis stepped through. He paused on his way in, looking a bit uncertain. I grinned as I suddenly realised that perhaps it was a bit intimidating to walk into a mostly empty room with three people who immediately turned to stare at you as you entered.

"Oh, sorry," he stammered. "Should I not be in here yet?"

"Hey Louis," I said quickly. "It's fine, we're just talking about a project."

"Shhhh," hissed Sue.

I rolled my eyes.

"Louis, this is Sue." Angela smiled with vague amusement.

"Hi." Louis waved, and came to sit at a desk close to us.

"Is your school doing the science fair too?" Sue asked. Abrupt, but that was Sue.

"No, but I have to for my end-of-year assessments, so I will be."

"On your own?" Sue sounded sceptical.

"Um, yes."

"What's your project?"

This was really turning into a bit of an interrogation. Louis looked slightly uncomfortable. I didn't intervene — I'd heard he would be joining us towards the end of the year for exams and other assessments. He had to learn about Sue's particular brand of personality at some point.

"Uhhh... I haven't really decided yet. We only got it yesterday." So had we, actually. Not that it had mattered much to Angela or Sue. Louis cleared his throat. "I was thinking maybe something to do with car safety improvements over the last few decades."

"Oh. Well that doesn't sound very interesting. Good." Sue stood up. "I'm going to the bathroom now."

"Jesus." I sighed. Angela just laughed at the bewildered look on Louis' face.

"Sorry," she said, subsiding into soft giggles. "We don't know why she's like that. Her sister is pretty normal."

"Okay," Louis said, shrugging and smiling. "Are you guys a group? What's your project?"

"Comparison of the Range, Mechanics and Construction of Medieval Period Catapults." I said, coming up with a sufficiently technical name for the project idea that I'd suggested during yesterday's brainstorming, and that we were now apparently doing.

"That's a great title." Angela made another note in her organiser.

"Thank you."

"That's really cool," Louis said. "I saw a really cool video somewhere about a guy who built a trebuchet in his garden from hardware store stuff."

"Interesting." I said, "We're going to be building small ones, but one of them will definitely be a trebuchet."

"I'll see if I can find the video, and send it to you."

"Thanks, that'd be great." I said.

"Would you like to join our project?" Angela asked. "If your physics teacher is okay with that. Assessments are going to happen at the fair, so it should be fine."

"Uh," Louis looked over at me. "That would actually be great. I haven't really pinned down my concept yet."

"Jay?" Angela asked.

"Yeah, of course." I said. "He's already offered some help."

Louis smiled gratefully at me. He readjusted his glasses. "Will... uh... Sue be okay with it?"

"Just wait." Angela said.

"Um... okay?" Louis looked nervous as Sue came back from the bathroom, and sat down with us again.

"Sue." Angela said. "If our physics teachers are both okay with it, Louis is going to join our project group for the science fair."

"OH." Sue's eyes widened, and a faint smile lit up her face. She turned to Louis. "You're smart, right?"

"Um... I think so."

"You ARE smart." Sue said, waving her hand. She got up and started pacing about the room, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"There's going to be a trophy for the best project." Angela said.

"Sue likes trophies," I explained. "And now you're with us, instead of against us."

He laughed. "Oh."

The rest of the class slowly trickled in, while our conversation moved on to other topics. Nothing too personal, since that wasn't generally the sort of thing we ever talked about. But it still felt like I was getting to know Louis better, and all of us — even Sue — seemed slightly more comfortable around him by the time Mr. Farrier barged in and launched right into teaching the class. It really started to drag on, as Mr. Farrier led us through a lengthy set of equation manipulations in order to prove the mathematical statement he'd started out with. We'd almost reached the full two hours when he stopped.

"Alright, and with that, we've covered Mathematical Induction as far as I'm going to. Do questions three to ten at the end of the chapter. You can leave out question six, but you should at least look at it. On Thursday we will do that question together, look at the answers for the others, and I'll answer any other questions you might have. On Saturday, there will be a test." He turned to face the class. "There will be no make-up tests without a doctor's note, so if you miss it, you should ensure that you are close to death."

There was grumbling as we filed out of the class. Louis chatted with me and Angela on our way out, and said a hurried goodbye to us as he dashed off to his mom's car. The rest of us went our own ways. Ellie and I gravitated towards each other and got in my car.

"Looks like Louis has come out of his shell a bit," she said.

"Yeah. He might join our project group for the Science fair. Angela asked him."

"That's so unfair. You three were already going to do an excellent job making the rest of us look like idiots. You didn't need a fourth."

I just shrugged.

"Still, it's good you're hanging out. I feel like my diabolical plan to infiltrate their group is going really, really well." she said. "You should ask him about John."

"What about John?"

"Background info to see if he's good for Sara. What he's like. Whether he's had girlfriends before, and if he treated them nicely."

"Yeah, I'm not doing that."

"Why not?"

"Because it's prying and it's weird. Sara's your friend — you ask him."

"Well, maybe I will."

I got us both home, and flopped down on my bed, wondering if it was too early in the day to start texting Eric. My heart fluttered slightly when I saw that he'd already sent me a message while I was driving.

Hey

Hey

Louis says he might be doing a project with you

Yeah. We were chatting about it, and my friend Angela asked him if he wanted to join our group.

That's nice. I think he was worried

Well, we're pretty happy to have him.

Especially Sue — the other group member.

She wants to win, and I think she saw him as a threat.

She sounds fun

She is. Unhinged, but fun.

Louis says you have a test on Saturday

Yep. Sucks.

I'll try not to message you so much

Why?

I don't want to distract you

To be honest, I wasn't planning on taking it super-seriously.

Well, I'm going to set a timer when we start chatting, and if we're talking for more than 20 minutes I'm just going to disappear.

Well that's rude!

I don't want to be the reason you fail!

How DARE you? I haven't failed anything since we did hand-eye-coordination tests for P.E. 5 years ago.

Hahah

Do you want to go on a date with me on Saturday?

A date?

Yeah, like we go to a restaurant, and eat, and chat. You're familiar with the concept, right?

Hah hah. -_-

Yeah, in theory.

Okay.

I'd love to.

Great

Now go study.

FINE!

We talked a bit more over the week, but true to his word, if we started chatting for too long, he'd tell me to go study and then stop responding. To keep myself from going crazy, I did actually end up doing all of my homework, and I even started preemptively studying for the test — something I'd never done before in my life.

***

Louis told us on Thursday that his physics teacher had agreed to let him join our group, and Angela had confirmed that Mr. Morison — our physics teacher — had agreed as well. They made plans to get the two in touch, so that we could officially be a group. We decided that because my part still seemed like a lot of work, and he'd shown an interest, Louis would just be helping me with that. I hoped that he could match my relaxed approach — I didn't need someone as industrious as Angela or as obsessive as Sue looking over my shoulder. But he didn't immediately start pestering me about it once we'd assigned all the tasks, and he'd gotten my contact details, so that was a good sign.

The following Saturday morning saw me sitting in class, more prepared for a maths test than I'd been in years. I was grumpy at being up so early — on a Saturday, to rehash that old complaint — but I was probably a lot happier with life in general, and I had no reason to panic about the test I was about to take. I probably would have been obsessing about my very first date, which I'd be having later that evening. But the material was difficult, and I'd studied so hard that week. There wasn't really much space in my head to think about anything else.

Angela and I sat running through the different sort of equations we might have to prove by induction, and what trig identities or expansions would be needed to provide the inductive steps to get to the final proof. Sue had frantically read and reread Angela's notes, and then began to pace back and forth, reciting things to herself in a breathless half-screech that only she could understand. Sue was pretty much guaranteed to get at least ninety percent of the questions right — but she always fretted over that final ten percent.

Louis and Ellie, who had been chatting, came up and started asking me and Angela questions. I think calmed both of us down a lot, and hopefully helped Louis and Ellie a bit. This sort of thing normally happened before tests, but only to Angela. It was nice that I was one of the people answering questions for once, instead of asking them. I'd really dived in for this one, and I was looking forward to telling Eric that he'd been paranoid about nothing. But I wasn't planning to admit that he'd been a good influence.

Then our time to brush up on the material ran out, and Mr. Farrier arrived with the tests. It was not a pleasant experience. Mathematical induction is a LOT of writing, and my handwriting is terrible, so I'd lose marks if I didn't make a conscious effort to be neat. By the end, my hand was sore and smeared all over with ink, and my eyes were strained after staring at sheets of white paper for so long. I'd still finished a little early, and I'd had time to go over my answers, so I was reasonably satisfied. But it had been an ordeal.

We all filed out afterwards, and I ended up chatting in a group with Louis, Ellie, Angela and Sue. Ellie and I could leave at any point, but it was basically the first time Louis had stuck around after a class, so I think we were both kind of curious. Angela got picked up, and then a few minutes later Sue did, and at that point it felt like we'd be abandoning Louis if we left, so we stayed.

He was generally just a very nice guy, and we had a lot of similar interests. He'd been quite awkward when I'd first met him, but he'd eased up in the past week. It was kind of cool, hanging out with him again — it made me remember how great last Saturday had been, and it got me excited that I'd be seeing Eric later. His mom arrived to pick him up before we'd been there for too long.

"He's so nice." Ellie said as we climbed into my car. "Are we ready to go?"

"Yep."

"We had a chat before class," she said.

"I saw. What about?"

"The test, mostly." She smiled. "Also, about last week. The group and all that."

"How goes the infiltration?" I asked, starting up the car and pulling out of the parking lot.

"Pretty well, actually," she said. "I managed to ask about John."

"That's nice," I said, only partially paying attention. "And?"

"Oh my god, he sounds adorable."

"Why?"

"Sorry, I can't tell you. I'm sworn to secrecy."

"Okay."

"I feel like you're trying to make a point, and it's annoying, but OKAY." She threw herself back in her seat. "They were best friends when they were younger. I think I told you that. But there's possibly some awkwardness there. I'm not quite sure. I just got a... sense."

"Yeah, but is that actually a thing?" I thought about Louis, and how he might react to being grilled about his best friend. "He's pretty awkward in general, isn't he?"

"Louis?" She tilted her head. "Not particularly, no."

I didn't mention it, but maybe Ellie just hadn't noticed. She'd given me the benefit of the doubt, after all. I suppose if she didn't think I was awkward, she'd probably not think that about him.

"He said some stuff about Eric, actually."

I just groaned.

"I swear, his name just came up." She shrugged, then grinned at me slyly. "I didn't ask about anything specific. Just if he was a good guy."

A few moments passed in silence before I caved.

"Okay, fine. Verdict, please?"

"It seems like he is, indeed, a good guy. He works with, and I quote, 'charities and stuff'."

"Seriously?"

"I know, how annoyingly goody-goody." She laughed. "Still though, good sign, right? I suppose it might depend on what Louis meant by 'stuff'."

"Sure. Charities and the mafia. Charities and drug dealers." I laughed. "They actually go together more often than you might think."

"He also said he was quite fun." Ellie seemed determined to not be dragged off-topic. "And gets them to do interesting things."

"Oh no. Not FUN!" I sighed, mostly joking. She laughed. It was her main criticism of me — that I never tried to have fun. I just think we fundamentally disagreed about what constituted fun.

It wasn't bad to hear those things about Eric, though. It definitely sounded like a good start. I'd already started forming my own opinion of him, of course, but it's not as if he'd told me he did charity work. Although we'd only had about two long chats and four twenty-minute sprints, so if he'd used up that precious time to brag about what a good person he was, I probably would have been annoyed. That was actually a nice thing to learn from Louis, by way of Ellie's prying, instead.

I dropped Ellie off and went home, and tidied up my room a bit. There was actually a surprising amount of time left over to waste after that. I checked my phone periodically, but I avoided the temptation to start messaging Eric. I had a superstitious aversion to the idea of talking to him too much before the date — as if it would cause him to change his mind, or we'd run out of things to talk about if we used them all up beforehand. If he'd texted me, I probably would have responded, but he didn't.

I spent most of the day playing video games, practising guitar, doing some homework — none of it with great conviction, especially the last one. At some point in the afternoon, I wandered onto the balcony where my mom usually sat reading, painting, or watching and identifying ships out in the water as they approached the harbour. She looked up from her book as I stepped out.

"Hi, Darling."

"Hey. I just wanted to let you know I was going out with friends tonight."

"Well. You're popular lately. Is Ellie going?"

I'm not in the habit of lying to my mom about where I'm going or who I'm with. I'm the good kid, of the original three, after all. But I didn't really want my mom to know about Eric yet. Even if she thought he was just a friend, if this didn't work out I didn't want to explain why I hung out with a friend once and never again. My mom was smart, and she'd know exactly what that sort of thing meant. She'd also want his number, so she had an extra person to contact if she couldn't reach me. I don't think she'd ever called one of my friends, but her having Eric's number seemed more serious, and the idea freaked me out.

"Yes." I'd have to get Ellie to cover for me.

"Okay, great. Is her number still the same?"

"As last week? Yes."

"I'm just checking," she said. "We're going to some god-awful thing tonight with Malcolm's work friends. The twins are coming too. Jenny might stay home. I don't know, and I don't particularly care."

My mom and my youngest step-sister did not get along. It wasn't as bad as the open warfare between her and my oldest step-sister, of course, but that wasn't exactly a high bar of civility. But at least Dan was out of the house a lot these days, even if she hadn't quite flown the nest yet. It wasn't as bad as it had usually been, back when she was around all the time. Jenny wasn't terrible, but she occasionally went through phases where she was very unpleasant to be around.

"Okay. What time do you think you'll be home?"

"I'm not sure," she said. "Do you need money for dinner? Where are you going tonight anyway?"

"Just out for dinner, so money wouldn't be bad. Not sure exactly where."

"I'll leave some for you. Are you driving?"

"Yes, but I won't be drinking."

"Good boy." she smiled.

I went straight back to my room and grabbed my phone to message Ellie.

I need to ask you a favour

Sure, what's up?

You know how my mom likes to make sure she has the number of a friend who I'm doing something with when I'm out.

Yes

I kind of need you to pretend you're out with me and other friends tonight.

But I'm not doing anything tonight. Can't I just come? Then you're not even lying.

Sorry, no.

Boooooooooo

Why not?

It's not like you'd hang out with anyone I don't know.

And I'm a delight

Wait

OMG

Is it Eric?

I didn't know how to respond. I suppose I should have seen it coming that she'd figure it out, given what she knew. Honestly, it was a miracle she hadn't already pried it out of me. I guess she'd been too caught up in extracting details from Louis. I saw she wasn't bothering to wait for my response.

Is it Eric?

It's totally Eric

That's why you don't want me to come with you!

It's a thing with Eric, isn't it?

It has to be

That's so great!

I'm coming over

I just sighed, and briefly wondered if there was any point telling her not to come over, but there usually wasn't. It only took a few minutes longer than normal before she came through the door that led from the main house into my room.

"I chatted with your mom. Really sold it." She crossed her arms smugly. "You can thank me later."

"I might," I said cautiously. "Although it really depends on how annoying you're going to be now."

She ignored that. "So, I know it's Eric. It's obviously Eric. Nothing else makes sense."

"Okay, I guess I'm willing to admit it's Eric."

She bounced up and down in excitement. I tried to remind myself that she was doing me a favour, and I should at least try to be nice to her. But I wasn't used to this sort of thing, and I didn't know how I was supposed to be reacting.

"So what are you wearing?"

I hadn't even thought of that. "Oh, shit... I don't know. What do guys wear on a date?"

"You're so cute," she said, ruffling my hair. "Calling it a date."

"That's what he called it," I said defensively.

"Bullshit."

"He did." I pulled my phone out and showed her the relevant texts. She tried to grab the phone, but I pulled it away.

"That's so unfair. No one's ever asked me on a date."

"I thought you've dated like three guys."

"I have, but they only ever asked me to 'Chill' or 'Hang out'. Nobody says 'Let's go on a date'. That's so sweet."

"Oh," I felt a bit flattered, suddenly. Eric wanted to go on a 'date' with me, and apparently that meant something. "What's the difference?"

"Wow. Everything. Everyone wants to 'hang out' so if it doesn't go well they can act like them trying to kiss you was a goofy moment between friends, and you overreacted when you rejected them. No one actually ever says 'date', because that's too honest."

"Huh." I felt a little giddy. Eric wanted a DATE with me. Granted, I didn't know if this was some sort of universal truth, or just an Ellie-ism, but it still felt nice. Plus, he'd already come to my house to lie on my bed making out with me — if he'd wanted the plausible deniability of 'hanging out' after that, I guess that could have been annoying. Although without Ellie's commentary, I probably wouldn't have known better anyway.

"I'll help you find something to wear." Ellie got up and walked over to my closet. I meekly followed her, wondering if I could ask her to help me with my hair as well. She absent-mindedly flicked through my collection of button-up shirts — there were a lot of them. With someone else looking at them, I felt the need to explain.

"I went to Hong Kong with my dad on one of his business trips, and he took me and Brian to this tailor. Now he mails us shirts every time he goes back. He's there a lot." I pushed a stack of them off to the side. "Those don't really fit any more."

It was a little silly. I didn't have any other clothes lying around that were that old — the first set of shirts were from when I was thirteen — and the volume was getting impractical. But they were from my dad, and we didn't see him that much, so I guess it was nice to know that he thought of us. I knew Brian kept his as well, but he was already eighteen when it started, so most of his still fit.

"That's so nice. My dad never gets me anything when he goes away." She leafed through. "Are these... arranged by colour?"

"Brian." He had a thing for organisation, and imposing it on others.

"Hah! I knew it wasn't you."

"Thanks."

"How is he, by the way?"

"You saw him on New Years."

"Yeah, but barely."

"He's fine. His masters is getting a bit stressful now, but he seems to be enjoying the excitement."

"Good, good."

I'd had a suspicion for a while that Ellie had a crush on my brother, but it was a bit of a weird thing to talk about. He was five years older than us, and I think he generally considered anyone my age to still be, basically, a child. I intentionally changed the subject.

"Do you really think I should wear one of these? Not something more casual?"

"I don't know." She kept flipping through them anyway. "Where is he taking you?"

"We said we'd go out to a restaurant. He didn't say which one."

"Hmm. That's tricky. If he takes you to Vecchio, one of these could be cute. There's always yuppies and people from conferences there, so you won't look out of place. You'll be a bit overdressed if he takes you to Mike's... but if he takes you to Mike's, you need to not date him. No guy is worth your self-respect."

I laughed. Mike's was a big, messy, family restaurant. There was a play area with video games, a climbing wall and all sorts of other fun things. Most of the tables had a good view of the play area, so parents could watch their kids. My family went there a lot — Dot and Des couldn't get enough of it. We generally had their birthday there every year. It was definitely a terrible place for a date — even I knew that. If someone at school had a budding relationship that was suddenly cut short, 'He took me to MIKE'S' was generally considered a reasonable explanation for the split.

"So you don't know, at all, where it is you're going?"

"No. Is that bad?" I was suddenly a bit paranoid.

"I don't know." She shrugged.

"I'm driving us there." I offered, not knowing if that made it better or worse. "He asked if I could drive us somewhere."

"Well, that makes it a bit better, I think." she said. "You probably shouldn't worry about him being a serial killer or something."

"Well I wasn't."

"Good."

"I am now though."

"Relax." She laughed. "Think it through. There'll be your car's tracking information, and your phone. He won't escape justice for long."

"Comforting, thanks."

"Just let him know I know you're out with him, if you're so worried."

"Okay." I sighed. "Yeah, that makes sense."

"Also, give me his number, so I can give it to your mom if you're 'Never Seen Again'."

"Ellie!"

"I wonder who would play me in the biopic about all his murders." She gasped. "Maybe I could do it! It could be my breakout role."

"Not funny."

"We'll have to agree to disagree." She kept browsing my shirts. "Relax, though. You're being ridiculous, and I'm just having fun. What time is he coming around?"

"We said seven."

"Jay! It's nearly six!" It was twenty-to-six, but you couldn't argue with Ellie when she was trying to be dramatic. Or ever, really.

"And?"

"You need to start getting ready!"

"How long do you think it takes me to get ready?"

"Do you want to do this quickly, or right?"

"Can't I do both?"

"Just go shower. I'll lay out some clothes. Hurry!"

"Okay, fine."

I shaved and showered, which really didn't take me long. I looked up at the clock as I came back into the room, and it wasn't even six yet.

"Wow, that was quick." Ellie said. "Here's what I've decided on."

She had chosen really carefully, even picking out the shoes and belt I was supposed to wear. The shirt was black with narrow stripes of blue and neon green.

"I picked that because it's sort of just casual enough to not make you look overdressed, but it's still a nice shirt if you go somewhere fancy — you'll just look trendier than everyone else."

"Thanks." It was a good choice. Ellie had always been good at that sort of thing.

"I'll let you get changed." She left the room — she'd never been afraid to walk around the house like she lived here — and I quickly got dressed. She knocked, and I told her to come in just as I was putting on my shoes.

"No, stand up." She came up to me and untucked my shirt, and smoothed it out. "You can tuck it in when you go to the bathroom if he takes you somewhere fancy."

She unbuttoned my sleeves, and pushed them up my arms, folding back the cuffs in a way that held the bunched up fabric just above my elbows.

"See? Casual, but adaptable. Let's go do your hair."

She spent a lot of time twisting and pulling at it, and the process was quite unpleasant, but my hair looked great after she'd finished. I usually use wax or something to just try to tamp down the curliness of my hair and just make it look messy and trendy, but she'd used a mousse I had lying around — probably a cast-off from my sister, last time she'd stayed here — and she'd successfully managed to sort of neaten and enhance my curls. Once she finished with my hair, she got my trimmer out and went after a few spots I'd missed when shaving, and then she asked if I had any cologne.

I only had one — a Christmas gift from a cousin of my mothers who definitely didn't know me — but she sprayed it on my wrist, instructed me to rub them together, and declared that it would just about work. She sprayed a cloud of it in front of me and told me to walk through it, twice, and then seemed satisfied.

"Okay, sit here." She directed me into a chair, and then pulled my standing fan out from the corner, pointed it at me and turned it on.

"What are you doing?" I asked, with a gentle breeze now blowing in my face.

"Just stay there for twenty minutes, okay. You need to dry."

"I feel like someone's art project." I grumbled.

"In a way, you are. And I'm incredibly talented." She checked the time on her phone. "Okay, I'm going to go. Hopefully your mom thinks I'm the kind of girl who can get ready in forty-five minutes. Don't move until at least half-past."

With that, she left, and I was sitting alone in front of a fan, feeling slightly ridiculous. I got up quickly to grab a book, and then obediently went back to sit in my drying area. My phone buzzed, and I looked at the time. Still twenty minutes to go. The message was from Ellie.

He's here

Pacing up down by your gate

So adorable

You need a new adjective.

You need to be nicer to me

I just did you a massive favour

And now I have to sit home alone all evening

SAD and alone

She was right. I was being a little standoffish, because I didn't actually really know how else to act about this. But she had been a massive help, and I was feeling a lot calmer about the date now.

You're right.

I'm sorry.

You've been very helpful.

Thank you so much.

Well, you're very welcome

If this works out you owe me your firstborn child

My... firstborn child?

It's an expression. I don't want your whiny-unfun babies.

Anyway.

Have a fun date.

Wait, what do I do now?

We said 7. Should I just go?

I don't know

Has he messaged you?

No

He's probably just going to wait until 7 then

That seems ridiculous.

Yeah, welcome to dating

I'm just going to go.

Okay!

This is so exciting!

Good luck!

Thanks.

No problem

Enjoy!

Don't watch me go, please.

I can't promise that

😁

I locked my room up, and shouted to my mom that I was leaving. My stomach began to flutter as I made my way up the path — I could almost hear my heart thumping in my chest. I felt ridiculous, reacting this way, but I could barely contain my excitement when I got to the gate and saw him standing there, staring down at his phone.

He looked amazing — his golden blonde hair softly draped around his face, and he was wearing a white shirt with red sleeves that clung close to his body in pleasing ways, showing off his muscles really well. Quite a bit more of a casual look than Ellie had set me up with. But, fortunately, not quite casual enough to make me think he was going to take me to Mike's. He'd definitely put more effort into looking great — as if he'd even needed to — than he had the previous Saturday. I studied him for a few more seconds, since I had the opportunity, and then I opened the gate.

He looked up, slightly startled, as he heard the noise of the gate's mechanism. He smiled when he saw it was me. "Sorry. I got here a bit early, and I was just going to wait."

"It's fine. I'm ready to go. If you want to."

"Yeah, sure." He circled around the passenger side of my car. I unlocked it and we both climbed in.

"Okay, so where are we going?" I asked, turning to face him. He looked even more amazing up close, and I wondered briefly if I was going to be able to concentrate on driving.

"It's a secret. Don't worry, I'll give you directions as we go."

He fixed his deep blue eyes on me, and didn't move. I felt myself flush slightly under his gaze, but I couldn't look away. Sending each other text messages over the week had felt exciting, sure, but it had been somehow safer and more isolated from the actual concept of Eric as a human being. Seeing him in person again was something else. Looking at his lips, I could remember how they'd felt against mine, and when he moved and his arms shifted under the fabric of his sleeves, I could almost feel them around me. And the way he wouldn't stop staring at me — it was derailing my mind.

"What?" I asked nervously, looking down slightly, hoping that might break the spell.

"Nothing." He leaned forward, putting his hand under my chin to lift my face up to his, and he kissed me softly. Then he settled back into his seat. "Just happy to see you again. We should get going."

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Terms: (Not necessarily appearing in this chapter)

• Matric - Final year of schooling in South Africa. (Senior year is the American equivalent, I think.)

• Moderation - Sort of an educational audit, where external moderators check up on the school's standards.

• Prelims - Mock finals, essentially mid-terms, but specifically geared to prepare you for finals.

• Maths - Self explanatory, of course, but I just want to make the point that the are MANY mathematics, so calling it Math is bizarre. Get your shit together, America.

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