asked Shelley. Pilates didn’t count as proper exercise, she’d decreed, because, allegedly, it didn’t involve sweat, which just went to prove she wasn’t doing it properly.
‘Because it’s good for us,’ I said, actually feeling a lot better than I had earlier. All that breathing, contorting myself into the right shape and using muscles that were usually left to their own devices meant that there was no space in my head to think of other things.
‘It’s good for you,’ she groaned. ‘With your taut, bendy body, and tiny boobs. Mine just get in the way.’
‘Stop boasting,’ said Bel. ‘You know we’d both love to have a cleavage.’
Shelley cheered up and pushed up her double Es with both hands. ‘I’ve got a body made for lurve, that’s my problem.’
We both burst out laughing.
‘Obviously, that’s where I’m going wrong,’ I said. ‘My body’s not even built for dating.’
‘I know someone who was very interested and he’s young, free and single, now.’ Her eyes gleamed with sudden delight and a sly smile lit up her face.
I ignored her, I refused to take the bait. It wasn’t the first time she’d attempted to fix me up with one of her random and completely unsuitable mates-of-mates.
She arched an eyebrow. ‘Don’t you want to know?’
‘No.’
‘Not even if it’s someone you really, really like.’
I glared at her. What? We were thirteen? Did she mean Sam?
‘You do know he’s broken up with his girlfriend?’
I didn’t need any more information. She did mean Sam. A rush of adrenaline crashed through me so unexpectedly that I dropped one of my trainers.
‘H–he has?’
She nodded, gentle for once, as if she knew it mattered. ‘Yes, sorry, I assumed you’d know.’ She lifted her shoulders in mute apology. ‘Mum was talking over the fence to his mum; she mentioned it.’
‘Wow,’ I said. For some reason I felt totally numb. Sam had finished with his girlfriend. I think I was too scared of what it might mean to dare to feel anything. ‘Do you know when?’
Was it before the weekend? After Sunday?
Shelley shook her head. ‘Mum didn’t say. I can ask her if you like.’
I gave her the look.
‘Uh, maybe not.’ Her quick grin was sympathetic. Given ammunition like that, Aunty Lynn would be straight round to Sam’s mum like a secret agent on a mission.
But now I was confused. Sam hadn’t made deliberate contact since he’d sent the Facebook friend invite. There’d been no further texts. Maybe I was imagining the mutual attraction, wishing it to be so, like some sort of reverse denial. People did that sort of thing all the time, didn’t they? Stalkers who were fixated on people, believing their victims returned their affection. Maybe I’d just read too much into those feelings? Maybe he was one of those guys who was incapable of not flirting? Maybe Sam was like that with any girl who gave him so much as the flutter of an eyelash and let slip a flash of attraction? A complete man-whore, who tested the waters but never went in deeper because he had a steady relationship that kept him safe. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became.
Bel and Shelley both kept quiet, for which I was extremely grateful. There were too many questions and thoughts churning around my head to make sense of anything.
As the sky was still cloudless and the sun blazing brightly, even though it was after nine, we walked home in our T-shirts and leggings. The pretty High Street was quiet, as if everyone had stayed home to enjoy the rare evening warmth. We walked along in near silence and I could feel Shelley and Bels shooting me concerned glances.
As we walked up the slight hill to the mini roundabout where Shelley would peel off, I put out my arms, catching both of them on the forearm. ‘Guys, can you stop worrying about me. Shels, I can almost feel you plotting. And Bels, you can stop fretting about me.’
‘Well, it’s just not like you to be…’
‘Quiet.’
‘So serious.’
I laughed as they spoke at the same time. ‘Well, you can quit worrying. I’m fine. Sam hasn’t even been in touch, so he’s probably not interested.’
That thought didn’t stop me going straight on to Instagram and Facebook as soon as I walked through the front door and my phone picked up the Wi-Fi signal.
Sam had posted nothing since Saturday on his Facebook newsfeed, where he’d shared a video which featured him hitting a cricket ball with an almighty thwack that seemed to reverberate