Page 34 of Textbook Romance

She looks affronted. ‘I was. I had braces and I loved maths. I was a good girl.’

‘Really?’ I say.

She stops before she replies, hesitant to have this descend into innuendo again. ‘Feels like a lifetime ago, though. I’m at some strange juncture now where platform heels and Nirvana t-shirts are making a comeback. Hard to have your school years referred to as vintage,’ she explains.

‘You focus a lot on your age,’ I say, almost telling her off.

‘Says the person who didn’t get my Nirvana joke…’

‘I know who Nirvana are. Seminal grunge and why Dave Grohl is the man he is today. I’m just saying you’re not that old. If we’d just met, I’d say you were in your thirties.’

‘Well then, I’ll take that. My moisturiser thanks you,’ she replies, almost gulping to have to absorb a compliment.

‘Plans this evening?’ I reply.

‘Same old, same old. Kids, pasta and multiple cups of tea will feature, possibly some lesson planning and replying to emails. You?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Oh, to be young.’

‘There you go again,’ I tell her, my tone changing to tease her.

She narrows her eyes and gives me a look. ‘Jack, I don’t think you realise you have all the youth, none of the responsibility. You could do anything you want tonight. You could go clubbing, take in a film, eat a kebab on a bench without fear or judgement.’

‘So could you,’ I tell her.

She scoffs at the suggestion. ‘The most exciting thing I might do tonight is to buy some chocolate at the petrol station when I fill up my car. I have a very boring and sad life,’ she jokes.

‘You need to stop saying things like that, you know,’ I retort, frowning at her. For some reason, she laughs away my attempts at telling her off.

She reaches into her bag to get her car keys. ‘Well, it is the truth. Ed and Mia’s wedding and my Nando’s with you were kind of the highlights of my social calendar. As we head into autumn, I’ll start to hibernate like a small bear. My social life will mainly be pyjamas… and before you ask, not matching sexy pyjamas.’

‘Who wears matching sexy pyjamas?’ I ask, trying to contain my laughter. ‘I don’t.’

‘People. I see them in films. Kardashians. I bet none of them wear sheep print pyjama bottoms with an old hoodie and big fluffy slipper socks.’

I stop in my tracks. ‘No way, I was going to wear exactly that same outfit when I got home,’ I tell her cheekily.

And she laughs, punching me on the arm again like when she pushed me before, bemused that this conversation is happening. I need to tell her I don’t mind doing this, to chat, to just be by her side and get to know her better.

‘Are you OK, Zoe?’ I ask her, still dawdling next to her as we walk across the decrepit school tennis court.

She looks over at me. There is something there. From having seen this since the very beginning, it makes me feel she isn’t. I saw a light go out almost straight away when she found out the news. I look into her eyes, imploring her to tell me.

‘I don’t know… I feel very lost,’ she tells me, her breath shuddering as she exhales.

‘Understandable. Can I just say something? It was based on something you said before.’

‘Shoot,’ she says. We both are still mid-amble – moving from tennis court to the low-lit corners of the bike sheds and school car park.

‘I just… I wanted to say… Before, you said that I was talking to you because I felt sorry for you, and I just wanted to say that’s not the reason at all. I wanted to clear that up.’

‘Oh…’ I see a blush rise in her cheeks. ‘Well, that’s…’ I stop by the bike sheds and get out a key, starting to unlock my bike. ‘Hold up, you ride a bike to school?’

I look up at her. ‘I feel judged. I can’t afford a car in London plus it’s very eco-friendly of me.’

‘It’s an honourable and fine way to travel.’

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