Page 8 of You Float My Boat

I went back out to tell him I’d changed my mind, only to find Evie Waters standing by our table. The panic on Charlie’s face coupled with the large glass of wine on an empty stomach was all I needed to forget my own hesitations, and get him away from her as quickly as possible.

In the twenty minutes we took to walk back to St Anne’s his arm didn’t once drop from around my shoulder. Truth be told, I think he’d been in almost as much shock as I was – only his shock made him monosyllabic.

Mine manifested itself with verbal diarrhoea.

For twenty minutes I’d done all the talking – prattling on about Christmas, skiing over New Year, auditions and the summer play, training for the Boat Race, my brother … you name it, I likely mentioned it.

‘Thank you, Violet,’ he’d mumbled against my cheek when he’d kissed me goodbye and taken off down the path, disappearing into the darkness before I’d had a chance to respond.

I almost wondered if my exceptionally vivid imagination hadn’t conjured up the entire scenario, until I remembered Stella knew about it. I’d found her sitting outside my dorm room waiting for me when I plodded my way up the stairs in a zombie-like state.

‘I’ve really messed up this time,’ I’d told her, trying to figure out if my chest might burst. Then proceeded to explain why.

‘Why don’t you start dating again? What about that guy from your History of English class last term? You said he was hot,’ Stella continued.

I shook my head, ‘Matthew Collins? Nah, he’s not dating material. He’s one-night-only type of fun.’

‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘Nothing. I still have classes with him, and I don’t want it to get weird. I need to get myself out of this Charlie situation first without starting another one.’

‘Don’t give yourself a hard time, with the play rehearsals you’ll be too busy to think about him.’

My shoulders slumped. ‘Yeah, I know. I just wish he’d been a terrible kisser, with bad breath or something. It would be easier to move on,’ I grouched, andattempted to block out the memory of what Charlie’s mouth felt like before it careered back into my brain.

Too late.

I’d spent a lot of time during my teenage years wondering what it would be like to kiss Charlie Masterson. I’d wonder whether his lips would feel as soft as they looked; if he’d cup my face or grip my hair like they did in the movies. I prayed we’d be sitting so my legs didn’t give way. I knew for a fact he’d be better at kissing than Matthew Wainwright, or James Brewers, or any of the other boys that featured in my real-life formative teenage years.

He had to be. He was two years older than me. He was ‘experienced’.

He was Charlie Masterson.

My number one.

Even when I started dating properly, and fell in love with my first boyfriend – Miles Garland – the flame which had burned for Charlie since the first time Hugo had brought him home one half-term never fully extinguished.

Then one week ago exactly, I’d finally discovered the answers to all my questions. Theywerethat soft, and the way he curled my hair around his finger was better than having it gripped. It was enough to bring a butterfly to life in my chest. Our first kiss had lived up to the expectations and more, even if the circumstances under which it occurred were less than ideal.

‘Have you ever considered that maybe you’re not supposed to move on?’

My eyes flicked to Stella. ‘What?’

‘This could be the universe giving you a chance. Texthim, you have his number, and the perfect excuse. Just ask him what the plan is.’

‘Uh uh.’ I shook my head, hard. ‘No. No way. It’s not a good idea. If he wants to go through with this, then he’ll message me.’

‘Vi, this could be the role of a lifetime for you.’

The breath I huffed out clouded as it hit the cold air. ‘There will be other more suitable roles.’

‘Want to know what I would do?’

Even with a side eye, I could see Stella grinning mischievously. I shouldn’t ask, but she’d only tell me anyway.

‘What? What would you do?’

‘I would use this opportunity to my advantage.’

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