Page 1 of Prudence
1.
Milly
~18 years ago~
Derek Balfe came to my rescue when the cherry blossoms were in bloom.
It was my favourite part of spring, the pale pink petals brightening up the road I walked along to school, the weather mild. Unfortunately, that day, midway through my walk home, it started pouring. Not merely rain, but hailstones, too. It was sunny when I left my house in the morning, so I’d forgone my coat, only to be punished with what felt like shards of ice pummelling down on me.
Removing my bag, I held it above my head to shield myself from the onslaught and broke into a run. Not that running would make me any less wet, but it would get me out of the downpour sooner.
I was in the middle of my mad dash when I heard a car horn beep behind me. I ignored it and continued running. When the beeping persisted, I finally slowed down and turned, spotting a black Audi idling by the footpath.
I squinted amid the rain and hail, trying to see who was behind the wheel. It could’ve been my aunt, Nell. She currently drove a BMW, but she was rich and often traded in her cars for newer models. The Audi didn’t seem her style, though. Then the driver’s side window rolled down, and a dark-haired boy with a serious expression stuck his head out. Well, not a boy, really. He was more of a young man, and it took me a moment to place him.
Derek Balfe had been a year above me in primary school. I couldn’t remember ever really speaking to him. His sister, Nuala Balfe, attended my all-girls secondary school, St. Colmcille’s. Derek was also one of the most popular boys in town, and lots of girls had crushes on him. The fact he was even acknowledging my existence felt surreal.
“Need a lift?” he called out, and my heart raced. Why on earth was he offeringmea lift? Sure, it was raining but we didn’t know each other. Nerves seized me. Since I went to an all-girls school and grew up with only sisters, I wasn’t used to interacting with boys at all. My cheeks heated despite my chilly, rain-soaked clothes, and my hands felt clammy as they gripped my backpack.
My pulse fluttered against my neck, and I scurried closer to his car. “That’s very kind, but I’m already drenched. I’ll ruin your seats.”
He leaned across and threw open the passenger side door. “Ah, don’t worry about that. Sure, it’s all leather anyway. Get in.”
I chewed my lip, uncertain, then blurted, “I don’t know you.”
His serious look was replaced with an unfairly handsome smile.
“Course, you do. I’m Derek Balfe, and you’re Milly O’Shea. We went to primary school together. My sister, Nuala, is in your year.”
“Right, but still,” I went on, unable to come up with a proper excuse. “That doesn’t mean we actually know one another.”
His face softened at my hesitation, the smile fading a little as his eyes trailed up my body, from my soggy shoes to my drenched uniform and wet hair, his expression turning thoughtful. “I get it, but listen, I’m just going to drop you off at your house. I see you walking this way every day, and I can’t in good conscience leave you out in this weather. You’ll catch your death.”
My lips twitched faintly at his statement.Catch your death. It sounded like something my grandma would say. “This is very kind of you.” I stepped closer. His warm, inviting brown eyes had me throwing caution to the wind as I approached the car and impulsively slid into the passenger seat.
“It’s so good to get out of that,” I went on with an intense shiver as I closed the door, and Derek frowned, looking me over.
“Are you all right?”
“I’ll be fine once I get home and out of these wet clothes. Some dry pyjamas and a hot cocoa should do the trick.”
Something I couldn’t decipher flickered in his gaze at the mention of me getting out of my uniform. It was gone in an instant, and he cleared his throat. “You live on Biscayne?”
I nodded, flushing slightly. I hadn’t expected him to know where my house was. “That’s right. Thank you.”
“It’s no problem.”
We fell into silence while he pulled the car back out onto the road, the windscreen wipers working overtime to clear the downpour. The radio was on low, but the heating was high, the intense blast warming my cold, damp skin. I grimaced at the sensation of my wet skirt sticking to my legs as I rubbed my hands together to get some heat back into my fingers. Derek glanced at the movement then focused back on the road.
“So,” he began after a minute or two. “Milly? Is that short for something?”
“Oh, yes, it’s short for—”
“No, wait, let me guess,” he said, a playful smile shaping his lips. “Is it … Millicent?” I screwed up my face, and he chuckled. “Okay, not that. How about Mildred?” I shook my head. “Hmm, Emilia, perhaps?”
“Nope.” I pressed my lips together, amused because he seemed annoyed that he hadn’t guessed correctly yet.
“Don’t tell me it’s Milton?”
