Page 9 of A Cornish Love Story
Kira’s description had been perfect, because I knew immediately that this was Ethan. He looked pensive, and his posture was good even when he was crouching,his shoulders wide and straight in his grey shirt. I couldn’t hold his gaze for long – there was something about his expression that made my dizziness linger – so I assessed the damage instead. I brushed at my bare knees, knocking off tiny nuggets of gravel, leaving behind red pockmarks and a couple of grazes where I’d broken the skin. I had on a navy dress and was relieved I hadn’t ripped the fabric. I didn’t have a whole lot of outfits that I was comfortable about wearing to school. ‘Shit.’
‘Does it hurt?’ Ethan squeezed my shoulder, his hand radiating heat through the cotton of my dress.
‘It stings a bit. It’s the shock more than anything.’
He glanced over my head. ‘We’re sitting ducks here. That ball’s bouncing around like Lego in a spin dryer.’
‘Aspindryer?’ I laughed. ‘How oldareyou?’ But when he held his hand out, I took it, and he pulled me easily to my feet.
‘I’m eighteen.’ He started walking, without letting go of my hand. ‘Same as you, I imagine, unless you’re still seventeen?’
‘I was eighteen in November.’ I didn’t try to take my hand back.
We walked across the courtyard together, and it was obvious that we were getting stared at. ‘Good,’ he said, and it took me a beat to remember what he was replying to. My age wasn’t something I had control over, but I was still glad that he approved.
‘Where are you taking me?’ I asked, as he pushed open the door into the sixth-form block. The linoleumsqueaked against the soles of our trainers, and the slightly stale scent of lunchtime chips wafted down the corridor. A student shouted from one of the floors above us, the sound echoing down the stairwell.
Ethan kept walking until we were outside the girls’ toilets, then he turned to face me, his shoulder skimming the wall. ‘You need to get your grazes cleaned up now.’
‘I will. Thanks.’ I brushed my palms together and he winced. ‘What is it?’
‘You could be pushing the gravel further in.’
‘I don’t …’ I looked at my hands. He was being far too cautious, considering it was just a standard playground fall. ‘I’m Georgie, by the way.’
He nodded. ‘Ethan.’
‘I know that,’I said with a grin.
‘Right.’ He sighed. ‘The new boy.’
‘You can’t escape it in a school this small.’
His gaze flickered behind me, down the corridor then towards the common room. ‘Come on.’ He pushed open the door into the girls’ toilets.
‘You can’t …’ I started, as he pulled me inside.
He elbowed the doors of each of the three stalls, and they flung inwards one by one, slamming against the walls. ‘Empty,’ he announced needlessly.
‘Anyone could come in at any moment.’
‘I’ll tell them it’s an emergency.’
‘It’s not though, is it?’
He dipped into a stall and pulled off a long roll of toilet paper that was, thankfully, a lot softer than thestuff in the main building. Ages eleven to sixteen you were apparently adept at coping with tracing paper, but once you got to sixth form you were allowed the dignity of something better.
‘You need to clean your cuts, and something tells me you wouldn’t do a great job yourself.’
‘Whatsomething?’I crossed my arms, but he gently prised them apart, then ran the paper under the cold tap and dabbed it against my left palm, which had fared worst. I winced at the cold and the sting, and then his warm fingers, gently pressing.
He shrugged. ‘You just seemed like you weren’t that bothered.’
‘I was, I …’ I remembered what I’d been distracted by: Mum, who that morning hadn’t got out of bed, who had told me she was fine and that I didn’t need to worry. I’d left feeling guilty, knowing she had really wanted me to stay, every step on the walk here cementing my status as Worst Daughter Ever. ‘My phone,’ I said forlornly.
‘It’s in my back pocket,’ Ethan told me. ‘I don’t know if it’s OK.’
‘Oh.’ Dread mingled with relief, because that Nokia was like a brick and I was sureit had survived the fall, and if I didn’t reply soon then Mum would call me. A couple of times when I hadn’t picked up, she’d phoned the school office, as if I was the one who needed checking up on. ‘Thank you.’ Thinking only of stopping that scenario playing out, I reached around Ethan, felt the back pocket of his jeans and slippedmy fingers inside, but it was empty and then … He’d gone completely still, tissue pressed to my hand, and I realized I was exhaling onto the side of his neck. A tiny muscle was jumping in his jaw. I pulled back quickly. ‘God, sorry.’
