‘This is a million times nicer than hanging out with those dorks from school,’ I inform him. ‘That was a good move, leaving when you did.’
Munching solidly, he shoots me a penetrating look and I can tell he is trying to read my mind, seeking the motive behind my words. I meet his gaze full on, and the corner of his mouth twitches upwards as he realizes I am being completely honest.
I give up on the food before he does and lean back on my elbows, watching him eat. He’s clearly starving. I open my mouth to tell him he has tomato sauce on his chin, then change my mind. My smile, however, doesn’t go unnoticed.
‘What?’ he asks with a brief laugh, swallowing his last mouthful and wiping his hands on the grass.
‘Nothing.’ I try to reel in the smile, but with his red-streaked chin, tousled hair, untucked shirt and grubby cuffs flapping loosely against his hands, he looks like a taller, dark-haired version of Tiffin at the end of a busy school day.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ he persists, regarding me quizzically, a touch self-conscious now.
‘Nothing. I was just thinking of what Francie says about you.’
A hint of wariness touches his eyes. ‘Oh, not that again . . .’
‘Your dimples are apparently very cute.’ I bite back a grin.
‘Ha ha.’ A little smile and he is looking down, pulling at the grass, a flush creeping up his neck.
‘And you have arresting eyes – whatever that means.’
A grimace of embarrassment. ‘Piss off, Maya. You just made that up.’
‘I didn’t. I’m telling you – she says things like that. What else . . . ? Oh yes: your mouth is apparently very snoggable.’
He chokes, showering me with Coke. ‘Maya!’
‘I’m not kidding! Those were her exact words!’
He is blushing hard now, peering intently into the Coke can. ‘Can I finish this or are you still thirsty?’
‘Stop trying to change the subject,’ I laugh.
He shoots me an evil look and swigs down the dregs.
‘She even said she caught sight of you through the open door of the boys’ changing rooms and you looked really—’
He kicks out at me. He is still half joking but it hurt.
I feel confused. Beneath the jokey exterior, he suddenly seems upset. I appear to have inadvertently crossed some invisible line.
‘OK.’ I raise my hands in surrender. ‘But you get the idea, right?’
‘Yeah, thanks a lot.’ He gives another wry smile to show he isn’t angry, and then turns his face away into the breeze. There is a long silence and I close my eyes, feeling the last of the summer sun on my face. The tranquillity is unnerving. Muted playground shrieks reach us from what seems like a million miles away. Somewhere amongst the trees, a dog lets out a couple of short, sharp yaps. I roll over onto my stomach and prop my chin on my hands. Lochan hasn’t realized I’m watching him, and all signs of laughter have been completely erased from his face. Elbows resting on drawn-up knees, he gazes out across the park and I can feel his mind working. Scrutinizing his face for lingering signs of annoyance, I find none. Only sadness.
‘You OK?’
‘Yeah.’ He doesn’t turn.
‘Really?’
He’s about to say something but then remains silent. Instead he starts rubbing at his sore with the side of his thumb.
I sit up. Reaching out, I gently pull his hand down from his face. His eyes dart to meet mine. ‘Maya, I’m not going to go out with Francie.’
‘I know. That’s OK. It doesn’t matter,’ I say quickly. ‘She’ll get over it.’
‘Why are you so keen to set us up?’
I feel awkward suddenly. ‘I dunno. I guess – I guess I thought if you went out with a friend of mine at least I’d still get to see you. You wouldn’t – you’d be less likely to go away.’
He frowns, uncomprehending.
‘It’s just that if you meet somebody next year at university—’ A small pain rises in the back of my throat. I cannot finish the sentence. ‘I mean, of course I want you to, but I don’t – I’m scared . . .’
He gives me a long, steady look. ‘Maya, surely you know I’d never leave you – you or the others.’
I force a smile and look down, tugging at the blades of grass. But one day you will, I can’t help thinking. One day we’ll all leave each other to forge families of our own. Because that’s the way the world works.
‘To be honest, I doubt if I’m ever going to go out with anyone,’ Lochan says quietly.
I look up in surprise. He glances at me and then away, an uncomfortable silence hanging between us.
I can’t help smiling. ‘That’s silly, Loch. You’re the best-looking guy at Belmont. Every girl in my class has a crush on you.’
Silence.
‘Are you saying you’re gay?’
The corners of his mouth twitch in amusement. ‘If there’s one thing I do know, it’s that I’m not!’
I sigh. ‘That’s a pity. I always thought it would be pretty cool to have a gay brother.’
Lochan laughs. ‘Don’t lose hope yet. There’s still Kit and Tiffin.’
‘Kit? Yeah, right! Rumour has it he’s already got a girlfriend. Francie swears she saw him snogging a girl from the year above in an empty classroom.’
‘Let’s just hope he doesn’t get her pregnant,’ Lochan says acerbically.
I wince and try to banish the thought from my mind. I don’t even want to think of Kit with a girl. He’s only thirteen, for chrissakes.
I sigh. ‘I’ve never even kissed anyone – unlike most of the girls in my class,’ I confess quietly, running my fingers through the long grass.
He turns to me. ‘So?’ he says gently. ‘You’re only sixteen.’
I pick at the stems and pout. ‘Sweet sixteen and never been kissed . . . What about you – have you ever—?’ I break off abruptly, suddenly realizing the absurdity of my question. I try to think of a way of turning it around, but it’s too late: Lochan is already picking at the ground with his fingernails, the colour high in his cheeks.
‘Yeah, right!’ He gives a derisive snort, avoiding my gaze, intent on the small hole he is digging in the earth. ‘Like – like that’s ever going to happen!’ With a short laugh, he glances at me as if imploring me to join in, and through the embarrassment I see the pain in his eyes.
Instinctively I move closer, stopping myself from reaching out and squeezing his hand, hating myself for my moment of thoughtlessness. ‘Loch, it’s not always going to be like this,’ I tell him gently. ‘One day—’
‘Yeah, one day.’ He smiles with forced nonchalance and gives a brief, dismissive shrug. ‘I know.’
A long silence stretches out between us. I look up at him in the scattered light of the afternoon, now nearing its end. ‘Do you ever think about it?’
He hesitates, the blood still hot in his cheeks, and for a moment I think he isn’t going to reply. He continues picking at the earth, still studiously avoiding my gaze. ‘Course.’ It’s so quiet that for a moment I think I might have imagined it.
I look at him sharply. ‘Who?’
‘There’s never really been anyone . . .’ He still refuses to look up, but even though he’s increasingly uncomfortable, he isn’t trying to get out of the conversation. ‘I just think that somewhere there must be—’ He shakes his head, as if suddenly aware he has said too much.
‘Hey, me too!’ I exclaim. ‘Somewhere in my head I have this idea of a perfect guy. But I don’t think he even exists.’
‘Sometimes—’ Lochan begins, then breaks off.
I wait for him to continue. ‘Sometimes . . . ?’ I prompt gently.
‘I wish things were different.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘I wish everything wasn’t so damn hard.’
‘I know,’ I say quietly. ‘Me too.’
CHAPTER SEVEN