Free The Girl With No Past by Kathryn Croft

my emailer.
    Missed you this eve. Was hoping to chat! Speak soon.
    I replied straight away, given that there was no thought needed for what I would say. I was following my heart for the first time since Adam and it felt good. Scary but good.
    Will go on tomorrow evening, hope to chat then!
    I studied my reply for a moment, making sure it didn’t seem desperate or needy. I had learnt from Maria that men detested that. When I was certain it was okay, I sent it, logged off and went to bed.
    It was no surprise that I couldn’t sleep again. I tried to think about Julian and how if I was a different person we might have been able to meet, but my thoughts were flung back to the emailer. I wasn’t sure what effect my reply would have but it was too late to worry about that now.

EIGHT
    As usual, Miss Hollis can’t be heard above the cacophony of voices in the classroom. Imogen and I sit at the back, our heads buried together, trying not to be overheard by any of our classmates.
    ‘Wait,’ I say. ‘Tell me that again. Slowly.’ Although I have heard exactly what Imogen said, I need to make sure because this is a huge deal.
    ‘Last night,’ she whispers. ‘Finally. It was weird but good weird not bad weird, I mean I liked it, course I did cos it’s Corey.’
    I should have seen this coming; she has done nothing but talk about wanting to lose her virginity with Corey for months now. But it is still a shock. Not a bad one, not really, because she is my friend and I want her to be happy, but I just feel sad. For myself. That there is no hope of me ever losing anything with any boy. I am also surprised because I thought Imogen was going to wait until her sixteenth birthday. But I will just have to be happy for her, especially after everything she does for me.
    ‘That’s great,’ I say. It’s not hard to mean it when I see the excitement on her face. ‘Do you feel…different?’
    She shrugs. ‘A bit. Kind of. Yeah, I think I do.’ But I doubt this. Surely it must all be psychological because it wasn’t like it physically made you any different. At least not on the outside. But I am no expert so I keep my mouth shut; I have never even kissed a boy.
    The door swings open and Mr Faulkner, our head of year, strides in. We call him Sergeant Faulkner because he bellows commands at us as if we’re in boot camp, but he’s not all bad. And his strictness is far preferable to Miss Hollis’s inability to take control.
    Behind him, following him into the room is a boy I have never seen before. He is wearing our uniform so must be a student here, but up until now I thought I knew everyone in our year, by face if not by name.
    The room falls silent and Miss Hollis quickly stands up, probably trying to make her presence felt now that Mr Faulkner is here. The head of year scowls. I bet he is angrier with her than he is with us; we are just doing what kids do, it is Miss Hollis’s job to keep us in order.
    ‘Year Ten, this is Adam Bowden,’ Mr Faulkner says, his voice loud enough to shatter glass. ‘He’s joined us from another school and will be in this form, so let’s all make him feel welcome.’ Beside him, Adam Bowden slouches and stares at the class, looking as if he couldn’t care less whether or not he is made welcome. I wonder how he can be so confident. If it were me standing there I’d be hiding behind Mr Faulkner, wishing the floor would swallow me up.
    But not Adam Bowden. No. He just stares at each of us in turn, from underneath his floppy dark hair, nodding his head as if making secret judgements about us, before strolling to an empty seat at the back. He doesn’t even wait for Miss Hollis to allocate him a seat. I am impressed. Impressed and a little startled by this boy’s behaviour.
    He turns to Imogen and me as he slumps in his chair and raises his eyebrows, smiling as he does so. It’s not a mocking smile, but quite a friendly one. And this is when I realise that, whoever this boy is, I think I like