Ryan put the photo back on the bedside table and turned his attention to the books piled up next to my bed. ‘You’ve been working on Shakespeare.’
I nodded. ‘English is one of my first exams. I have a list of revision topics for Shakespeare.’
‘Let’s hear them.’
I shuffled through a file of papers. ‘Who is most responsible for the deaths of Romeo and Juliet?’
‘The apothecary?’ suggested Ryan. ‘He sold Romeo the poison.’
‘I think that Shakespeare is the most responsible.’
Ryan raised an eyebrow. ‘Because he wrote the play?’
I shook my head. ‘Shakespeare spells out what will happen in the play at the beginning, in the prologue. The chorus tells the audience that “a pair of star-crossed lovers take their life”. I think that he means that their future was already written. It didn’t matter what they did, or what anyone else did, they were destined to take their lives. I guess I’m talking about Fate.’
‘You could be right. Romeo and Juliet frequently see omens that suggest their fate.’
‘Evidence, please, Mr Westland,’ I said, mocking Mr Kennedy, our English teacher.
Ryan lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. ‘Just before going to Capulet’s ball, Romeo has a premonition that things will end badly – “my mind misgives some consequence yet hanging in the stars,”’ he said quietly, his eyes still gazing at the ceiling as though the words were written there. ‘ “Shall bitterly begin his fearful date with this night’s revels, and expire the term of a despised life, closed in my breast, by some vile forfeit of untimely death.”’
‘I take it you studied this play back in New Hampshire?’
Ryan nodded.
‘It seems they teach literature more thoroughly than they teach history.’
‘That was a backhanded compliment,’ he said, swatting my thigh with a copy of Romeo and Juliet. ‘So, Miss Anfield, how does Shakespeare explore the theme of Fate in his plays?’
‘That’s a massive question,’ I said, groaning. ‘You’ll have to narrow it down a bit.’
‘In Macbeth, is Macbeth the victim of Fate or his own ambition?’
‘Macbeth believed in Fate. But he also tried to prevent Fate from determining his destiny. Like when he tried to kill Banquo’s sons. But the prophecies all came true.’
‘Forget Shakespeare. Do you believe in Fate?’
‘No. I believe we make our own destiny. I hate the idea of Fate. It’s a cop-out. It stops people taking responsibility for their actions. I think that, until we make a choice, the possibilities are infinite.’
Like the choices I was faced with now. He was lying on my bed; I was sitting next to him, mere inches separating us. I could stay where I was, and ask him what he thought about Fate. Keep it friendly and platonic. Or lean over impulsively and kiss him.
‘And once you’ve made a choice?’
‘All the other possibilities disappear.’
Ryan sat up, leant towards me and gently placed one hand on my arm. ‘So imagine this,’ he said, a mischievous twinkle in his voice. ‘Imagine you travel back to the Victorian period. And imagine you walk in on your great-grandfather meeting your great-grandmother. Would you look at them and think that their possibilities were infinite? Or would you think that Fate had already determined their future? That they were bound to make choices that would eventually lead to you being born?’
I hesitated, thinking through his question. Downstairs, I heard the ring of the doorbell, registered vaguely that Connor and Megan had arrived. ‘I don’t know about that,’ I said eventually. ‘That’s different. And ridiculous.’
‘Humour me. Imagine that you were able to prevent them from meeting at all?’
‘I don’t suppose I could do that,’ I said. ‘Because if I prevented them from meeting, then I would never be born, in which case I would be unable to travel back in time and prevent them meeting.’
Ryan grinned. ‘And there’s the paradox.’
I smiled back. ‘Do you believe in Fate?’
‘I don’t think so,’ he said. ‘Ask me in a hundred years.’
A herd of elephants stampeded up the stairs and my door swung open. Connor came in first, with Megan right behind him. Ryan removed his hand from my arm. Connor was all smiles until he saw Ryan sitting on my bed.
‘Great,’ he said. ‘You’re here.’
Connor sat in the armchair and pulled a physics textbook out of his backpack. ‘Let’s warm up with some science, shall we?’ he said.
‘We’ve already warmed up,’ I said.
Connor looked at Ryan and then at me. ‘Bet you have.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I asked.
Connor shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’ll test you.’
Science – physics in particular – was his strongest subject and I suspected he chose this so that he could spar with Ryan in some silly intellectual showdown. Ryan answered every question Connor threw his way, in detail, a bored expression on his face.
‘If you already know all the answers,’ Connor said eventually, ‘why don’t you go home?’
‘Connor!’ I said.
‘It’s OK,’ Ryan said, standing up. ‘I’m quite good at science. Not so good at twentieth-century history. Let me know the next time you plan to study that and I’ll come along.’
He picked up his backpack and I walked him to the front door.
‘Wish you wouldn’t go,’ I said.
Ryan shrugged one shoulder. ‘I don’t want to, but Connor is going to be a jerk if I stay.’
‘I’ll tell him to leave.’
Ryan shook his head. ‘Don’t do that. Study with him. Maybe you and I could spend some time together tomorrow?’
My heart literally skipped a beat and I held on to the door frame to steady myself. ‘Let me give you my number.’
I picked up a marker from the phone table in the hall.
‘Do you have a scrap of paper in your backpack?’ I asked.
Ryan held out his hand. ‘Just write it on the back of my hand.’
His hand in my hand felt warm and almost too intimate. I dragged the pen across his skin, taking care to make the numbers clear.
Ryan read the numbers back to me. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow then,’ he said with a smile.
Back upstairs, Connor and Megan were tucking into biscuits and juice. Megan smiled sympathetically as I walked in.
‘What was that all about?’ I asked Connor.
He shrugged. ‘He’s such an asshole. Why come to a study session if you don’t need to study?’
‘He didn’t know we were going to be studying science,’ I said. ‘You chose the subject.’
‘He just came to show off.’
‘No. You tried to show off and it backfired.’
‘Why did you invite him anyway? You know how I feel about him!’
‘No, I don’t know how you feel about him, although it’s become quite clear this afternoon. What’s your problem with Ryan?’
‘He flirts with everyone. And it’s just irritating to see you fawning over him like every other girl in our year.’