Page 1 of Don't Fall in Love (and how to break the rules)

Prologue

SUMMER 2002

Chrissie and Nisha lay side by side on the lawn, wearing one ear bud each, listening toComplicatedby Avril Lavigne on Nisha’s Discman. It was after ten pm and dark, but the recent scorching weather meant it was still humid enough to be out in shorts and vest tops.

The Birmingham traffic was slowing, and the night was becoming quieter. Chrissie’s long tanned thigh nestled comfortably against Nisha’s more muscular one, her brown skin still glistening from the sun cream she’d applied earlier.

Chrissie loved these moments. A Levels were over at last. The night was opening out in front of them. They would lie there together, no need to speak. Chrissie felt a sense of quiet excitement deep in her stomach. It filled her up, and she smiled.

“What are you grinning about?” asked Nisha, not needing to look across to know.

“I’m just happy,” said Chrissie. “Aren’t you?”

“Well,” said Nisha, pressing pause on the Discman and pushing herself up on one elbow, “I would be if we could find some ice-cream. Do you reckon we could raid your freezer?”

Chrissie laughed. “I’m in. Let’s go.”

From the kitchen, Chrissie looked out of the window into the garden where they had – literally – set up camp for the last few days. An old seventies ridge tent stood proud in the middle of the lawn, a dark triangle in the night. Her dad didn’t seem to mind that she’d relocated, now that her exams were over. His only stipulation was that they should ensure they raise the ground sheet for a few hours each day to prevent the grass going yellow. He was proud of his garden.

Nisha rummaged in the freezer and pulled out a rectangular plastic container. “Oooh,” she said, “Neapolitan ice-cream! My mum used to give me this when I was little. Old school.”

“Oh God,” said Chrissie, her long blonde hair hanging in waves down her back. “That’s probably been in there since you were tiny – or at least shorter than you are now!”

Nisha poked Chrissie in the side before speaking. “Nah,” she said, spoon already in her mouth. “It’s good. Come on.” She grinned, and Chrissie was struck again by the way her diminutive size somehow accentuated the force of her smile and personality. The strength she had gained from playing football showed, too.

“Tent?” enquired Chrissie.

“Tent,” agreed Nisha.

They climbed into the orange tent, which still had a slightly musty smell. Chrissie’s parents had used it frequently during the seventies and eighties, before she was born. Over the past few days she’d slowly moved cushions, books, blankets, a couple of torches and some battery-powered fairy-lights in. Her bedroom had become a place for revising for the dreaded A Level exams, or stressing about the same. Once the exams had finished, with the weather still sweltering, she had moved out of the house. Or at least ten metres or so out. It felt like freedom. She hadn’t needed to actually invite Nisha to join her. It was an unspoken agreement.

The ice-cream had the slight taste of freezer burn, and was more than a little frosty, but in the tent, surrounded by twinkling lights, it didn’t matter.

It was theirs.

“Ice-cream is so much better now it isn’t accompanied by calculus and lack-of-revision remorse,” said Nisha.

“Shudder. Agreed. Although I continue to be pleased I never studied maths. I mean, what were you thinking?” Chrissie poked Nisha, who giggled.

“It’s a beautiful thing, when you don’t have to do exams in it,” she said, batting Chrissie’s hand away, and then grabbing it.

Chrissie’s stomach flipped. The closeness between the two of them had been growing in the last few days, and last night there had been a moment when Nisha looked at her in a way that drew Chrissie in.

Chrissie knew she liked girls, had known for a while. But she hadn’t really talked to anyone about it. School wasn’t a forgiving place. But last night, every fibre in her body had screamed at her to kiss Nisha. The air between them had thinned, and Nisha’s brown eyes had sparkled. Chrissie had taken a breath, and moved a millimetre towards Nisha, who suddenly looked away. The moment was lost. But then, in the night, Nisha’s hand had found Chrissie’s, and when Chrissie had woken this morning it had still been there. The two of them had slept the whole night side by side, hand in hand.

There was something apart from the real world about these days in the tent. Nisha seemed more relaxed than she ever did at school, fiddling with her dark hair less and smiling more, the dimple on one side of her face showing.

This evening, Nisha still had Chrissie’s hand. The grab turned into a gentler hold. And Chrissie squeezed, softly. No words had been spoken, but there seemed to be a revision essay’s worth of words exchanged between the two girls.

Chrissie waited. She had never known Nisha to be interested in anyone – boy or girl – and wasn’t sure what this was. She looked shyly at Nisha, their eyes meeting. There was something different about Nisha this time, and the familiar thinning of the air and the instinct to move closer returned.

Then there was a deafening crash of thunder.

Chapter One

Glue sticks, round-ended scissors, pencils and exercise books were arranged in neat piles along child-sized desks. Chrissie surveyed the afternoon’s work, finding a meditative calm in creating order out of chaos, safe in the knowledge that chaos would return in just thirty-six hours.

The final days before the start of the Autumn term were full of meetings, to-do lists and endless tasks. The classroom was pleasingly bare, probably for the last time before next summer. Chrissie breathed out, allowing her eyelids to close over hazel eyes, flexing her neck as she sat on a child’s chair with her knees almost meeting her ears. She reflected, as she did most days, that this was not a healthy position to work in.

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