Those were the only messages we sent that first night, though. I didn’t want to seem too desperate. Our chat had vanished the following morning anyway, and I wondered if she might regret it when she woke up, delete her account and pretend none of it had happened. But twenty-four hours later, stood in Spoons with everyone and having a shit Friday night because they were all drinking and I’d already had my allocated two, she started chatting again.

I worried I’d overdone it with that, but she sent me a thumbs up emoji.

Immediately, the crying with laughter emoji came through. Followed by a unicorn.

Interested, I stepped away from the group. Was she a bit pissed?

I imagined her sat on a sofa somewhere, a second G&T on the go, maybe a third, her husband on an opposite sofa on his phone – I’m not stupid, I’d noticed the rings – an unwatched movie playing on Sky in the background. In other words, exactly what my parents would be currently doing. I waited, but nothing came back and suddenly Cherry appeared under my nose, arms crossed.

‘So, I’m just checking out this situation. Who are you messaging?’

‘My mum. She’s making sure my leg is all right. Why?’ I slid my phone quickly into my back pocket.

She brightened. ‘Oh. OK. So in other news – I need another drink.’

Sighing, I reached into my wallet for a tenner and held it out between my index and middle fingers.

She smiled and whipped it away from me. ‘Thank you.’ She blew me a kiss, spun round on the spot and walked back to the bar, earning herself admiring glances from several huddles of blokes as she did, all of whom she completely ignored.

I got my phone back out – another notification. I opened it and caught my breath. I had to blink a couple of times.

My mouth fell open. WTAF?

---

I spent the whole weekend unable to think about anything else. I had no message to look back at, so I wasn’t sure if it had even happened, or I’d dreamt it. Even if she HAD sent it, she was bound to have sobered up on Saturday morning and thought twice. Maybe she actually meant she was genuinely going to come and check on my leg? But then, I’d have had to have gone through the doctors officially, wouldn’t I? I checked my chats religiously, but nothing more came through from her at all. I wasn’t going to take any chances though, so on Monday morning I appeared at breakfast in my T-shirt and trackie bums.

‘Mum, I don’t feel well. Do you mind if I don’t go in today?’

‘Oh baby!’ Mum was sat at the breakfast bar fully made-up, hair done and dressed for work, but held out her arms to me. I walked over and leant my head down so she could rest her lips on my forehead – which I’d just held a hot flannel to, up in the bathroom. The same trick, since I was ten years old.

‘You do feel warm.’ She pulled a sympathetic face. ‘Your leg isn’t playing up?’ She glared at Dad, who sighed crossly, got up and put his bowl in the dishwasher, adjusting his suit trousers and glancing at his Rolex. ‘Come on, Chris, we’ve got the planners meeting. I don’t want to be late.’

‘My leg is fine,’ I told Mum truthfully.

‘Are your sugars OK?’

I nodded. ‘I just feel a bit dizzy, that’s all.’

‘You’re going to have something to eat now though?’

‘Yes. Of course.’

‘I’m not back until four, sweetheart.’ She looked worried. ‘You’ll be all right looking after yourself until then?’

I nodded. ‘I’ll at least open some soup later. I promise.’

‘You’re practically Bear Grylls,’ said Ruby, getting up, snapping her phone shut and shoving it in her handbag.

I gave her a fake smile to which she stuck her tongue out. ‘I’m off. I’ll see you all later.’ She kissed Dad’s cheek as she passed him.

‘Have a good one, bub,’ he said, pleased. ‘You look very nice today. Very professional.’

‘Thank you!’ She struck a pose, briefly. ‘Media agency expert Ruby Day, at your service.’ She laughed, happily. ‘Hope you feel “better” later.’ She looked at me pointedly and ignored my narrowed eyes as she spun round and tick tacked out of the room.

‘Shoes, Ruby! Walk on tiptoe and not the heel!’ Dad threw his arms open, exasperated, then looked at his watch again. ‘Christine, please! Can we GO!’

‘Don’t call me that!’ Mum said sharply but got up. ‘Bye, love. I’ll have my phone on all day.’ She kissed me and looked at Dad, pointing a warning finger at him. ‘If you’re going to be like this, I’m not coming. Have a word with yourself, all right?’

‘Fine, fine.’ Dad held his hands up. ‘I’m sorry. Now can we please just go? Bye, Jonny. Stay out of trouble, please.’

‘Thanks, Dad,’ I said absently, checking my phone again. Still nothing. I was starting to feel like a bit of a knob. Had I just skived off for no reason whatsoever? I made some good use of my time though, updating my Instagram with pictures of me lying in bed, shirt off. After five minutes of posting I hadn’t had any likes at all though, not even Cherry, so I deleted them in a mood, got up and got ready, showering and choosing a white T-shirt and jeans. Then I put clean sheets on the bed.

At quarter to one, just as I’d given up hope, Angel began to bark and, my heart stopping, I jumped up off the bed, went over to the window and looked down. It was her car. She had actually come. Fuck.

She climbed out of the car dressed in a navy skirt and jacket and was holding a black bag. She half smiled as I opened the front door and walked slowly across the gravel to the front door.

‘Hi.’

‘You’re here,’ I said foolishly, and she smiled a little wider.

‘I am. Can I come in then?’

She walked past me into the hallway and looked down at the floor. ‘Do you want me to take my shoes off?’

I thought about Dad. ‘No, you don’t have to. It’s fine. Everyone is at work, by the way. It’s just me.’

She chewed her lip and looked around her, almost as if she was confused. ‘I have no idea what I’m doing here,’ she said softly.

I hesitated and, feeling so nervous I wanted to puke, I walked over to her, bent my head and kissed her. She stood very still, at first, but then she started to kiss me back.

We had sex in my bed. I’ve slept with plenty of girls, but I’m not going to lie, I was nervous. It was a bit vanilla, which is not a criticism – just straightforward and quick, but I think she came. I definitely did, as she lay under me. We didn’t talk as she dressed and sorted her hair out, but she smiled at me, and I honestly thought I was going to wake up at any moment.

‘Is that it now?’ I blurted.

She’d looked amused. ‘Do you want it to be?’

I shook my head. ‘No. I’d like to see you again.’

She stood up, hesitated and said: ‘How about Friday night? Ten p.m? I could meet you for a bit. At the bottom of the hill by Calverly Park?’

‘OK,’ I agreed eagerly.

I walked her out to her car, and then didn’t know if I should kiss her or not, and ended up standing there awkwardly instead, like a twat.

She smiled. ‘See you Friday then.’

I watched her drive off and went back into the house, closing the door behind me in amazement. That had actually just happened?

I’d just gone upstairs again, when the doorbell rang, making me jump. Had she forgotten something? I went back as fast as I could, smiling widely, and flung the door open, but bloody Cherry was on the doorstep.

‘Hey, you’re up and about! I bought you lunch!’ She held up a Pret bag and bounced in past me. ‘Look at you all pleased to see me. You’re the cutest. C’mon. Let’s eat!’

At the time I felt relieved; now I wish she’d been just five minutes earlier, because she would have seen Alex leaving the house. It would have proved she was there. To be honest, I spent the next four days wondering if it had happened at all. It was the unrealness that I couldn’t handle, the feeling I’d made the whole thing up in my head.

I couldn’t concentrate in class at all and got bollocked more than usual for not paying attention, although I honestly couldn’t see what the problem was; under the new system, nothing counts at all until our exams at the end of Year 13 – a whole year away. I had plenty of time. They’d started banging on about making a head start on my uni choices before the summer holidays, saying I had to devise a long list of courses, going along to some open days and thinking about a personal statement. None of it mattered. I couldn’t think about anything but Alex, naked and under me.

---

By ten to ten in the pub on Friday, I was slightly more than my usual two drinks up, purely from nerves. I told the others I was going to get some more cash out and staggered down the hill that ran parallel and behind the high street’s glossy shop fronts, walking past all of the fire escapes and waste bins. It wasn’t lit by street lights and I nearly fell once or twice, bouncing off one of the bumper-to-bumper parked cars. Part of me was convinced she wouldn’t be there and it had all been a fantasy; but, sure enough, there was the BMW sitting on a double yellow in the black, lights and engine off.

I got in but she didn’t even smile, just looked around her to make sure no one was looking. ‘How long have you got?’

‘Until people miss me? About three minutes?’ My phone began to light up. Cherry was calling.

Alex glanced at the screen, then out of her window. ‘Can you say you’ve gone home, not feeling well? I’ve got half an hour.’

‘OK.’ I let the call go to voicemail and shifted position to pull the seatbelt round me, accidentally kicking a plastic bag I hadn’t realised was at my feet, which clinked. I reached down to check nothing had broken and saw a full bottle of gin lying on its side.

‘My excuse for leaving the house,’ Alex said. ‘It’s not for us.’

I shrugged. That was fine by me. My mother drank gin. I couldn’t think of anything I’d want to crack open less.

She started the car and we quickly drove out of town – as I texted Cherry to say I’d got a taxi home, my leg was suddenly hurting again but otherwise I was fine, just tired – up onto the main road that led to a cut through the forest called Bunny Lane. It had turned properly dark and a bit creepy. Alex was driving fast and swerved slightly as an actual rabbit popped out of the hedge.

‘Not Bunny Lane for nothing then,’ I said for no reason, and she didn’t reply. ‘Are you all right?’ I said a moment later as we went too fast round another corner and my hand instinctively reached to grip the door handle.

‘I’m fine,’ she said shortly, and after a few more minutes, took a sharp left into a dark car park of a farm shop, all closed up, the barn doors bolted across.

I’d been there with Mum and Dad a while back when Mum had wanted to stop and buy some bacon because someone had told it her was home reared or something. I remember Dad saying it wasn’t just the pig that had been reared: ‘Five quid for a pot of olives? They proper can get stuffed.’ He obviously hadn’t been the only one to feel that way, because I realised it wasn’t just closed but had shut down. We bounced over the uneven surface of the dry muddied car park, full of potholes, and I felt a bit sick.

She drove right to the back, then up a small dirt track and stopped in front of a padlocked, five-bar gate that led into the dark woodland beyond.

‘I’m not going in there,’ I said, looking at the arms of the trees moving in the wind and wishing I’d not watched the trailer for the re-release of It the day before.

‘Obviously,’ she said cuttingly, and I started to regret getting in the car at all, but she undid her seatbelt quickly, turned to me, leant across and kissed me, hard, while undoing my jeans and sliding her hand down the front. I gasped – I couldn’t help myself.

It’s not easy to fuck in a car when you’re my height. It felt awkward and all angles – not just because of fumbling for condoms in wallets. Not my best work. She didn’t seem any calmer afterwards either.

We drove back into town in silence and I was worried that I’d messed up, and this was going to be it. She drove me back to the main road near my house and pulled over near our drive.

‘Are you all right to walk the last bit?’

I nodded, glancing at the car clock. It was only quarter to eleven.

‘Next time, can you not wear so much aftershave, please?’

I felt myself blush in the dark. ‘Sorry.’ I hesitated. ‘I got you something, but I don’t know if you want it now.’

She raised an eyebrow and said uncertainly: ‘OK?’

I reached into the pockets of my coat and pulled out a small mobile and charger. ‘Snapchatting like we did at first is too risky. If you want to reach me, use this instead. It’s just a pay as you go. I’ve got one too. I’ll message you later so you’ve got my number. Once the credit has gone you can top it up or just chuck it, but don’t actually burn it… they’re called burners,’ I explained as she looked blank. ‘You’ve seen The Wire, right?’

‘No. They did this on House of Cards though.’ She reached out and took one from me.

‘On what?’

‘Never mind.’

‘People think Snapchat is safe because the messages vanish, and after thirty-one days, even Snapchat themselves can’t recover the content, they can only see if users exchanged communication, but people don’t realise the actual messages can save to your handset.’

She paled. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah. Don’t worry. We barely used it, but this will be a lot safer from now on.’ I pointed at the mobile she was still holding.

She smiled suddenly. ‘You’ve put a lot of thought into this.’

I blushed again.

‘That’s sweet. I have to go now though, so, good night.’

This time, I just got out – didn’t wait for her to kiss me or anything. After I’d closed the door carefully, I watched her pull away, feeling very happy for a moment. There was definitely going to be a next time. I should have been thinking, so what that I was wearing aftershave? but I wasn’t. All I was thinking about was when I’d see her again.

Once I got home, I texted her from my burner:

And was a bit disappointed when I didn’t get a response – although I hadn’t really expected anything.

I wish I’d stopped it then. I wasn’t in love with her. I’ve never told a girl I love her and I’m not going to say it until I mean it but, from then onwards, I was thinking about Alex a lot. All of the time.