I felt myself blush. ‘I think you should stop fishing for compliments.’
Chapter 6
‘Double maths and then it’s all over,’ said Megan, dropping her lunch tray on the table.
It was the last day of school before study leave started and I wasn’t sure whether to be sentimental or overjoyed. I was looking forward to the long summer holidays and then college after that, but there were things I would miss about this place.
I glanced at Ryan. Over the last few weeks, he had infiltrated our tight little group. At first he just sat with us on Monday lunchtimes before our art lesson, but recently he’d started sitting with us every day. He caught me looking at him and smiled.
‘What’s the probability of a fun last lesson with Stevens?’ asked Matt.
‘Absolute zero,’ said Megan, sprinkling salt over her double helping of cheesy chips. ‘He’ll make us go over past papers. Guaranteed.’
I prodded at the vegetables sitting underneath a thick grey pool of congealing sauce, trying to find something I recognised. I should have known better than to risk a veggie curry.
‘You want to share mine?’ asked Ryan, wrinkling his nose at my food. He pushed his tray between us and moved closer to me.
‘Thanks,’ I said, stabbing a piece of his pasta with my fork. ‘You can’t go wrong with pasta. My curry looks like dog vomit. What was I thinking?’
Connor looked at me. ‘Just get yourself something else to eat, Eden.’
‘It’s fine,’ said Ryan. ‘I don’t mind sharing.’
Connor glared.
‘What shall we do tomorrow to mark our first day of freedom?’ asked Megan.
‘The beach,’ said Matt. ‘The forecast is good.’
‘What do you think?’ Amy interrupted, waving a poster in her hand. ‘Melissa Whitlock did the artwork, but I designed the layout.’
She thrust the poster on to the middle of the table, where it absorbed a grease spot and turned translucent.
Leavers’ Ball
Saturday 23rd June
Tickets £15
There was a silhouette of a couple dancing and the entire poster was printed in silver and pink.
‘That looks great, Amy,’ I said.
She sat next to Megan and stole a chip from her tray.
Megan slapped her wrist playfully. ‘Get your own lunch. I didn’t get this gorgeous figure by sharing my food.’
‘Help yourself to Ryan’s lunch,’ said Connor. ‘He doesn’t mind sharing.’
Ryan smiled to himself.
‘What’s so funny?’ I asked him quietly.
He leant close to me. ‘If I tell you why I think Connor is being an asshole, you’ll just tell me that I’m wrong and imagining things. But I’m pretty sure this is all to do with who is going to pair up for the ball.’
‘It’s rude to whisper,’ said Connor.
Ryan caught my eye. I tried not to smile.
‘Tickets are on sale now,’ said Amy, stealing another chip from Megan’s plate. ‘Obviously Matt and I will be going together. Although he hasn’t asked me yet.’
‘You could ask him, you know,’ I said. ‘This is the twenty-first century. Women don’t have to wait to be asked.’
‘I could ask him, but I shouldn’t have to.’
Matt rolled his eyes. ‘Amy, will you go to the ball with me?’
‘I’d love to, Matthew,’ she said, smiling smugly. ‘What about you, Eden? Who are you going with?’
I shrugged. ‘I haven’t really thought about it.’
‘Yeah, right,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘Everyone’s been talking about it for weeks.’ She took another chip from Megan. ‘Who do you want to go with, Megs?’
Megan’s cheeks dimpled as she smiled. ‘I have someone in mind.’
‘Megan?’ I said.
She laughed. ‘Tell you later.’
‘What about you, Westland?’ Amy said, turning to Ryan. ‘Will you finally put Chloe Mason out of her misery?’
Ryan laughed. ‘I’m not that brave.’
Amy nudged him. ‘You have to go.’ She glanced at me. ‘Chloe won’t be the only girl in Year Eleven who will be disappointed if you don’t.’
‘When is it?’ he asked, dragging the grease-soaked poster across the table towards himself.
‘The twenty-third of June,’ said Amy.
Ryan’s eyes lit up. ‘Actually,’ he said. ‘I think I will go.’
‘I saved a special place for you,’ Connor said with a smirk as he passed me a black felt-tip pen and gestured at his chest.
‘Your left nipple?’ I asked, pulling a face.
‘My heart,’ he said, clutching his chest with both hands and sighing melodramatically. ‘You are my oldest friend. I sat next to you on my first day in reception.’
‘The happiest days of our lives,’ I said. ‘Why do people say that? Are we supposed to think that now our schooldays are over, it’s all downhill?’
I removed the pen cap and wrote on his shirt Connor and Eden 2000–2012.
‘I remember the first day of school so clearly,’ said Connor. ‘You arrived with your mum. You left her at the door and picked up a jigsaw puzzle and brought it to the table. You forgot about her right away but she stood there and watched you for ages.’
I wished I could remember that myself. I had no real memories of my mother, just things that Miranda told me when we looked at old photographs.
‘I remember you too. You wet yourself.’
‘Thanks, Eden. I can always rely on you to remember the good times.’
‘That’s what friends are for,’ I said, handing him back the marker. ‘Your turn.’
He looked at my shirt. Almost all the white space was filled with comments and signatures. ‘There’s no space left.’
‘The inside of my arm,’ I said, twisting my arm to expose the underside.
There wasn’t much room. He wrote the same as I did: Connor and Eden 2000–2012.
‘Not very original,’ he said. ‘But inspired by one of the best.’
‘Let’s capture the moment,’ I said, pulling my phone out of my bag. ‘Go and stand by the steps, under the sign.’
He walked over and turned towards me, a big happy grin on his face, his blond hair full of sunshine and light.
‘Say, cheese,’ I said, holding my phone up and snapping a few shots.
‘My turn, I want one of us together.’ He put his arm around my waist and held me close to him, the other arm stretched out, holding the phone.
‘Promise you’ll delete them if they’re terrible.’
‘No way. These photos will be online before dinnertime.’
The school bus sighed into the parking bay in a cloud of grey diesel fumes.
‘This is it,’ I said. Sentimentality was threatening to rear its sickening face.
‘We’ve still got exams to look forward to,’ said Connor.
I gave him a look.
‘And the leavers’ ball.’
‘Now you’re talking,’ I said. ‘That will be a fun night.’
Connor kicked at the ground. ‘Have you thought about who you might want to go with?’
I shrugged. I suppose I’d assumed that Connor would ask me. Like he said, we’d been friends for ever and neither of us had a boyfriend or girlfriend. It would make a sweet ending to twelve years of schooling. Me and Connor: best friends for ever.
‘Well,’ I began.
And then I saw Ryan. He was striding straight towards us, his shirt covered in scrawled signatures, his tie knotted halfway down his chest.
‘Eden!’ he yelled. ‘You haven’t signed my shirt yet.’
I smiled. ‘Doesn’t look like there’s any room.’
‘There’s always room for you.’
I could feel myself blushing.
‘I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Connor said.
‘At the beach,’ I said. ‘Can’t wait.’