Page 66 of The Reunion

Saying Curtis’s name feels – not like a curse, but like the swing of a weapon. Something violent and bloody, something that will hurt. I’m not sure who I’m most worried about hurting here, though. Maybe all of us.

Shaun nods, though, and if he notices my clunky phrasing, he’s polite enough to ignore it. We make our way down the rest of the steps, gravel crunching underfoot in the silence, giving away the fact that our steps are out of sync. We walk within arm’s reach of each other, but with several inches separating us. Shaun’s arm swings at his side and I hold my bag in front of me with both hands, just in case we wander too close together and my hand might brush his.

I know that our moment has passed; the kiss that almost was isn’t something we could easily return to, and it’s for the best.

I feel like I’m just waking up with a hangover. Groggy and disconcerted, recent events a messy jumble in my brain where it feels like entire patches are missing that would make it all make sense. My mouth is dry, my limbs shaky.

Does Shaun feel this way, too? What is he thinking right now? I sneak a peek and find a small frown puckered between his eyebrows, but his shoulders aren’t hunched up and his posture is normal – maybe he isn’t particularly bothered by it? Maybe he’s busy thinking up a cover story for Aisha if she asks why he was gone for so long.

Maybe, I don’t know Shaun as well as I once did.

I don’t dare ask what’s going on in his head right now, though. I cannot face that discussion.

The first time Shaun kissed my cheek after walking me home from school one day, I immediately ran inside to open up the Facebook Messenger group chat with Thea, Morgan and Priya, and the four of us dissected and analysed every moment to within an inch of our lives. I described to them in extensive detail how I had to put my schoolbag on my other shoulder so my hand next to him would be free, and how he kept brushing the back of my hand with his then gripping the strap of his cross-body satchel like he couldn’t quite work up the nerve to hold my hand, and how it had been a little bit sweaty when he did. Then how romantic and sweet and perfect it had been when he gave my hand a little tug on the porch step so I’d turn into him, and he kissed my cheek so fast I blinked and he was already half racing away, but turned back to grin and wave goodbye.

Oh, we’d have a field day if we tried to debrief on the almost-kiss, now.

But I cannot, for the life of me, imagine what Shaun would have to say about it.

I’m not even sure what I want him to say, or what I’d say if he asked me, except the overarching sentiment that it’s for the best we didn’t.

BEEEEEEEP!

BOOOOOOP!

BEEEEEEEP!

I thought that tonight was leading me back to Shaun, but as the fire alarm continues its relentless screech and we walk out of step around the length of the dark school building, I wonder if fate has intervened after all.

And, if, maybe, Shaun Michaels is not the one after all.

Shaun comes to an abrupt stop, and it takes me a moment to realise why.

Our path is blocked by a very tall, very locked, gate. There’s a chain on it, as well as something that looks like a digital pad with a keycode to keep it extra-secure. This never used to be here. It’s guarding the narrow, cobblestone path around the side of the school, between the science block and a very thick row of bushes, and blocking our exit completely.

Bryony told us not to go wandering off. I wish we had listened to her.

‘Oh, shit,’ Shaun mutters, and starts laughing as he approaches the offending gate. He gives it a tug and a push and the chain rattles, but the gate doesn’t budge even a little. He turns back to me with that boyish smile of his. ‘Guess we’re stuck – again.’

Maybe I’m imagining it, but it seems there’s a sparkle in his eyes, a cheekiness to it.

I don’t have it in me to debate if he’s just being himself or if he’s being flirtatious right now, because all I can do is think – my phone is broken so I can’t call anybody, and if we use Shaun’s phone to try to contact somebody to come and unlock the door by the stairs, they’ll know we’ve been together, and any chance of downplaying this and slipping back into the party undetected will be done for. We especially can’t call Bryony to help; she’s always been such a terrible gossip that everybody would know that Shaun and I had snuck out to the back of the school within seconds.

I have to talk to Curtis about this, I know that. I owe it to him, right along with an apology he doesn’t have to accept, but I can’t bear to have this be the subject of gossip and ridicule; he’s done nothing to deserve that. This is between us, not my entire cohort of old classmates.

There’s only one thing for it.

We’ll have to climb over.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Shaun

‘Most Likely to End Up Together’

Steph’s shoulders tense and when she looks over at me again, I hardly recognise the expression on her face; I’ve never seen her so stern and determined. But immediately, I know what she’s thinking – she wants to try to climb over.

‘Let’s just call someone,’ I say, already slipping my phone out of my pocket. The fire alarm is still blaring. Notifications fill the screen and I hide a wince at the string of texts from Aisha asking where I’ve gone.

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