Page 13 of Do You Ship It

I’m starting to see where you got the ‘rascal’ part of your username, Runic

@runicrascal

:D

CHAPTER 6

I am a bundle of nervous energy on Wednesday in media class. It’s my last lesson of the day, so I’ll be straight from here to the bus to Jake’s house for some episodes ofOf Wrath and Rune. I decided not to watch them in advance, which suddenly feels like a bad idea. I don’t want to make an idiot of myself in front of him, not when it’s something he loves so much.

It really has come to something, when ‘making an idiot of myself’ is not fully understanding one of three magic systems (‘magick’, apparently, if Discord is anything to go by) and not going out in public wearing a wig and elf ears.

But these are the lengths we go to for love; and romanceisall about grand gestures.

Daphne notices I’m all worked up, because in the middle of class she nudges me in the side and whispers,‘What’s got into you? It’s like you downed a can of Red Bull! You haven’t stopped jiggling once.’

‘I … I sort of have a … a bit of a date tonight,’ I blurt, too fraught and excited to think up a white lie. Daphne gasps, eyes brightening, and I get a surge of panic, remembering too late about how I didn’t want this getting back to Evie and possibly then to Jake. ‘Sort of. Not really. Maybe?’

‘You don’t know if it’s a date?’

I shake my head.

‘Well, did he ask you? Is he taking you out somewhere?’

‘It’s … Um, I don’t know. He’s a friend, so it’s a bit complicated. I’m just going to his house to hang out for a bit.’

Daphne’s mouth widens in a grin, and I relax a bit to see her instantly sharing in my excitement. ‘Are his parents going to be there?’

I shrug. ‘I think they might still be at work? I’m not sure.’

‘If they’re not, it’sdefinitelya date.’

‘Right. And if they are?’

She ponders this for a minute. I know from her social media that she had a boyfriend throughout all of Year 9 and into Year 10, and then she’s mentioned a guy shedated over the summer, so Daphne is definitely more worldly when it comes to this sort of thing than I am. I’ll take any advice she wants to give.

‘I think it stillcouldbe … but maybe don’t maketoomuch of a move – let him come to you. You don’t want to do like Cher inCluelessand fall off the bed just trying to flip your hair!’

The two of us giggle, and our teacher shushes us and throws a warning look our way. We return to our notes for a few minutes in silence before I risk whispering, ‘I love that movie.’

‘Me too! It’s one of my favourites. I love those old romcoms.’

I feel a bit lighter, a bit more confident, to hear it. At least a shared love of a movie genre is some good ground to bond over, if all else fails.

I add, ‘Seriously, though, I haven’t eventhoughtabout if we go up to his room …’

Which is true; I hadn’t. I’ve been in Jake’s room plenty of times before when we’ve hung out, but I haven’t seen his bedroom in the new house. When we hung out this summer, it was mainly in his garden or the ‘orangery’ (which seems just like any old conservatory, if you ask me) or in town. And if thisisa bit more of a date – if it’s part of us growing closer and taking our friendship to a different level …

Well, that changes things.

‘Definitely let him make the first move,’ Daphne tells me, more authoritatively now. ‘Especially since we don’t know if it’s really a date or not yet. You don’t want to make it awkward. But you just have to make sure you’reopen, you know?’

I’m so alarmed by the way she says it that all I can do is blurt, ‘What, like …?’ And part my legs wide under the table, pulling a horrified face. I’m not going there to try and have sex with him! I haven’t evenkissedhim! She can’t honestly be suggesting …?

Daphne squeals with laughter so suddenly that she snorts when she tries to smother the sound and ends up gasping for breath. A tear escapes her eye and she swipes it away. I sit there and watch, confused and embarrassed, feeling like I’ve just made a complete fool of myself – that she won’t want to bother with me if I don’t know how to act in a guy’s bedroom on a maybe-date.

‘Daphne,’ barks our teacher. ‘If you cannot control yourself, I will have to ask you to leave my classroom. I expect better from my students.’

‘Sorry, sir,’ she wheezes, her pale cheeks flushed an almost iridescent shade of pink. She refuses to look at me for several minutes, until she’s sure she won’t laugh again. She ends up hissing out of the sideof her mouth, ‘Cerys, you kill me. You’re hilarious.Obviouslythat’s not what I meant, but –’ She throws her hand up in front of her face to block me out, even as her shoulders shake with barely-contained laughter.

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