After exams finish, summer officially starts. Free from school, I hardly see Finn. I get lost in London, which is so big you could go months without seeing the same face twice if you avoid certain haunts: the park, the cinema, the clubs. I feel like … I’m resting. Finally, I’m getting my breath back. The weeks melt away until suddenly results day approaches like a train rounding a bend in the track. I can see its headlights growing larger. I’m waiting on the platform but secretly hoping this particular train doesn’t stop here. Whichever way you look at it, tomorrow is going to be a momentously craptacular day. Judgement Day: Apocalypse. Fire and brimstone. There’s no avoiding it.
I haven’t seriously considered going with Georgia and the others to the big-results-day-blow-out in Brighton because I can’t think of a single plus point to the excursion. But when Isaac brings it up I feel the balance begin to tip in its favour.
“I thought we could go together.”
“Not your brightest idea ever.”
“We don’t have to hang around with those guys. We’ll do our own thing, go to the beach, chill out. Celebrate.”
“I might just have done enough to scrape through but I can’t see a big fanfare being necessary.”
“I’ll buy you an ice-cream.”
“With a flake?”
“And fudge sauce.”
“Hot fudge sauce?”
“Course.”
I grin. “Tempting, but … no. The last thing I want to do is watch Finn parade about with Miss Swish-Swish” – I flip my hair – “you know what I’m talking about. And then hang about with a bunch of people who haven’t – apart from Georgia – said one word to me since I was ousted from the group. It would feel fake.”
“I’ve talked to you.”
“That’s different. You’re not like them. You’re like … a stand-alone.”
“A loner, you mean.”
“No, someone who doesn’t need all those others around to congratulate you on your awesomeness. You’re just great the way you are.”
“Is that a compliment, Miss Carroll? Because it sounds like it’s trying to be one.”
“It is what it is.”
“Well, maybe I don’t want to stand alone this time. I could do with the company.”
“It’d be too weird.” But then I think of all the lovely things Isaac has done for me recently, and all without hope or agenda. The butterflies, the encouragement, protecting me from those boys in the park. If he can do all that, maybe I can take a little weirdness for him. He deserves it. “OK, I’ll come. But don’t leave me on my own with them.”
“Done.”