Page 4 of Imogen

“For a walk,” I call back. “And don’t follow me.”

I hear him sigh as the first tear falls. I’ve spent years obsessing over every little thing he has done. I’ve refused to go on dates, or join in on days out with my friends. All because I wanted to wait for him, and to show him I am not a child.

I should never have talked myself into doing this.

A sob catches in my throat as I make my way down the side of the building, to where the concrete steps are. They are used for spectators to sit and watch the cricket matches.

“Imogen?”

I glance up at the sound of my friend’s voice. At the top of the steps is Zach Armstrong, sitting back against the wooden bar. He has on a pair of jeans and a polo shirt; his body lean and tall. I make my way up to him. We’ve been friends for years now—ever since we had to do a science project together. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” he tells me, his hazel eyes watching me. “Why are you crying?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I tell him, ashamed of the answer. “Why didn’t you come inside?”

“Your cousins wouldn’t let me. I’m actually hiding from them.”

I grimace. “Which ones?”

“Liam and Maddox,” he tells me as I take a seat next to him. “Tell me why you’re upset.”

I rest my elbows against my knees, pulling my hair away from my face as more tears fall. “I made a fool out of myself in front of someone. He doesn’t want me.”

Zach clears his throat, his hand touching my thigh. “I like you.”

I sit up, searching his gaze to see if he’s sincere. “What?”

“I’ve always liked you,” he rushes out.

“I…” I’m about to give him the same speech Ben just gave me, and it doesn’t feel good.

“Please, just give us a chance. We’ve been friends since forever, and you know I’d never hurt you like that guy.”

“You don’t know who I’m talking about,” I whisper.

“I do. That punk kid who works for your dad. He’ll never look at you like you are anything but a kid. Trust me. I heard them talking about it.”

“What? Who? When?”

“Remember when we were studying in your dad’s office for the science project?”

“Yeah.” And I do, because it was the first time my dad didn’t go all dad on me about boys.

“One of the other guys who works there asked him why he spoke to you all the time and was teasing him about liking you. He got defensive and admitted that you were just easy to manipulate and that you were nothing but a child. He said you could never get a boyfriend because you act so immature, and he thinks you have mental issues.”

My throat closes up, and I struggle for a moment to process everything he said. Ben really thinks those things about me. His declaration earlier proved that. And he’s not the first boy who has declared such feelings about me. Tommy Badminton called me out in Year 9, telling everyone I couldn’t get a boyfriend because I acted so crazy.

Maybe they’re right.

“I really liked him,” I admit.

“Because you never gave anyone else a try. Please, Imogen, give us a chance. I’ve liked you for so long, and I know together we’ll make a great couple.”

I think about it for a moment. Maybe me never having a proper boyfriend is what put Ben off. He probably called me a child because I have no experience as a woman.

That said… “I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Why don’t we just see where this can go? We don’t even have to be official or anything. We can be friends. I mean, don’t you want to get back at him for hurting you?”

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