Shaking

Manx and I hop off the bus

and walk to our lockers.

Rachel runs up from behind,

throws an arm around each of our shoulders

and swings between us.

‘Friday is my favourite day,’ she says.

Manx blushes and looks away.

I wonder if Rachel notices.

‘Vodka Cruisers to celebrate the weekend.’

She looks at me and winks.

‘Who’s going to jump in the lake first?’ she asks.

‘Not me, too cold,’ I say.

She digs Manx in the ribs.

‘Looks like it’s me and you, Manx,’ she says.

Manx mumbles under his breath.

‘Come on, Manx,’ Rachel says.

‘Don’t let me swim alone.’

‘What about Patrick,’ Manx mutters.

Rachel lets go of our shoulders

and stands with her hands on her hips.

‘Are you jealous?’ she says.

Manx bites his lip.

It’s not often he’s lost for words.

Rachel smiles again.

‘I’ll jump if you do, Manx,’ she says.

She turns and walks up the stairs.

Manx reaches for the key to his locker.

His hand is shaking.