Page 103 of You Float My Boat

‘Don’t throw up on me.’ Side-eyeing her as she threw the last piece in her mouth, she genuinely looked on the verge of tears. Unless she was acting. Or trying her ‘fake cry’ face. Either way, I couldn’t blame her, I knew how she felt. I could cry from the cuteness too.

‘Who even knew that Charlie Masterson could be swoony. Like, this is pretty swoony.’

‘I know.’

I looked back up at the sky, I shouldn’t have worn my green coat. It was going to get totally ruined if I got rained on.

‘Do you think he was this swoony with Evie?’ she asked, sucking the remaining frosting off her fingers and pulling them out with a loud pop. ‘Nah, there’s no way. You don’t cheat on someone this swoony.’

I didn’t answer, Stella seemed quite content having a conversation with herself while I prayed to make it to shelter before the clouds burst.

I also didn’t really want to think about whether Charlie may or may not have been swoony with Evie, because it wouldn’t be the first time I’d wondered. It was hard not to. It was bad enough I could still remember the period of time when they dated, or worse when they ended and he came to visit with his little broken heart.

I wasn’t trying to compare myself with Evie, but – knowing everything I now knew about Charlie – like the way he always held the back of my head when he kissed me, and never pulled away from my lips withoutleaving another quick smack or three. Or how he always wrapped his hand around mine to walk, unless the street was crowded and he needed to walk behind,thenhe’d thread our fingers together, so he didn’t have to let go. Because he never let go.

But,it was hard. Hard not to wonder what they’d been like together. If he’d done all those things with her.

Before, when it had been fake, I hadn’t cared enough to overthink it, because not caring about Evie protected my heart. Now though, now it was no longer fake, I’d found myself going back to the day I’d bumped into her along with the words which loved to echo around my head at the most inappropriate times.

She was like one of those dark clouds hovering over me, ready to burst and completely ruin my day.

Thankfully, a swift nudge in the ribs brought me back to the present.

I frowned at Stella. ‘Eh? What d’you do that for?’

‘I was asking about tonight.’ Her eyes had lit up with a grin spread across her face. Must be the sugar rush. ‘What’s going to happen? Do we need to put a sign on your door that says “If this room’s rocking, don’t come knocking”? Or a sock? Do some people put socks on their door?’

Socks. Something else I’d been trying not to think about too much, but this one was virtually impossible.

I groaned quietly, the girl made a very valid point. At some point, Charlie and I would be moving the kissing portion of our relationship to the next level. And I loved the kissing portion. LOVED it. Like, sitting in a tree all day next to Charlie and kissing,loved it.

But let’s face it, we were both young and full of hormones. And all the kissing had been doing was making me hungry for the next course – like the perfect appetizer.

‘Do you think that’s what the cupcakes were for?’ Stella continued, because my mind was wandering too much to keep up with her one-way conversation.

‘What d’you mean?’

‘You know … to move you to the next level. So you think he’s sweet and cute and wants to take off your knickers?’

I rolled my eyes. ‘I thought he was sweet and cute before the cupcakes.’

‘But maybe he wanted to reaffirm that, just to really make sure.’

‘I dunno. It doesn’t seem like his style. He seems too much of a gentleman,’ I replied, because that’s exactly what Charlie was.

A door-holding-open, chair-pulling-out, carrying-your-books type of guy.

Respectful. Courteous.

‘Huh. Didn’t expect that.’

I shook my head, ‘Yeah, me neither. I just assumed he’d be like Hugo, but a little more refined.’

‘Yeah.’

It had been a very pleasant surprise to discover that the Charlie Masterson I’d crushed on for years was actually more wonderful than I’d ever imagined. Kind, thoughtful, considerate. He was interested in my days. He wanted to hear about rehearsals. He insisted on practising with me. And in the past week instead oftexting me to say good night, he’d call me for thirty seconds just to hear my voice.

Every day I discovered something new.

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