Page 28 of I Love You, I Love You, I Love You

‘You two!’ Bianca shouts in her South London commentary. ‘Talk about love birds.’ (Back there, are we?)

I flush red and slam my hand over her mouth. ‘BIANCA!’

And I look at Lowe; it’s not as though he’s denying it.

‘I’m so sorry, Lowe!’ Bianca jeers, giggling her head off. ‘But Ella just doesn’t like you like that? OK?’

Oh, for fuc—

I can’t even look at Lowe.

The girls haul Bianca, squealing, into The Twins’ house and I linger. Lowe leans against the wall. Is this a plan? A meteoroid must be heading at great speed towards our planet. Something is going to happen. ‘Well … ’ Lowe says at the drive.

Well … how about please just kiss me?

‘Goodnight then, Lowe Archer – thank you for … well … everything,’ I say.

‘K.’ He bites his bottom lip. We both giggle.

‘K … ?’

The brow of a fox twitches. The clench of a fist. The rattle of the sky. The wind sucks back. The plants hold their breath. A bird stretches its wings. A cigarette sparks. I see a living room lamp switch on. Hear a car door slam. Headlights rush and we’ve still not kissed. I hear an engine purr. A dog’s rough bark. The water on the pond as tight as a drum, where a bulbous toad gurgles and nature is on our side. Animals burrow in for the night. It’s all on our side, all perfectly timed, all alright and still no. No kiss. A boiling kettle clicks. The shop front yanks down. The train roars by. The kids ride home. The night turns and we’ve still not kissed.

We both laugh as we feel the moment pass. We escape the trap as the tension lifts. We press the palms of our hands together and do our good old handshake. Clap, clasp, twist, link, thumb to thumb, spiral, spud, punch, hug …

Ah, well. Maybe next time?

I turn to walk back towards the house with a ‘BYE then!’

And then, from somewhere down the road, Lowe shouts, ‘Bye then!’

I grin, hiding behind the wall, stick my head out and shout ‘Oi, bye!’

He hides behind a tree and pops out with a ‘Bye!’

We’re both giggling our heads off now. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. The whole way down the road until he’s so far away, his voice so small, I’m not sure if it’s him or an echo.

When he’s out of sight, I still stand on the porch of The Twins’ house, shouting ‘BYE!’, laughing quietly to myself, not pressing the bell until I hear Lowe shout it back.

He calls my phone.

‘Hello?’ You can hear the smile in my voice.

‘Bye!’ and he hangs up before I can say anything back.

My heart explodes.

A gargantuan high. An astronomical supernova, right here, inside.

Bye.

Chapter 14

The following day, still blissed out from what felt like a holiday in heavenly Wandsworth, I’m tucked up in bed, reading the copy of Flowers in the Attic that we’ve been passing around our class (but hidden inside a copy of The Hobbit so nobody can see I’m a dirty bitch), when Dad comes in and nervously drops himself at the end of it.

‘Did you have a nice birthday?’

‘Yeah, with my friends.’ I don’t look up, keep drawing hard Biro lines in my book. I’m not going to let him know it was absolutely great – that would absolve the guilt too easily. I could get an extra birthday present out of this surely.

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