Free Casting Shadows by Sophie McKenzie Page B

happier than I’d ever seen him. He never shirked his chores or complained about having to do them. He ran every day, usually in the early evening when the sun was past its strongest. And I
knew he worked out and shadow-boxed too, though he never let me watch.
    He said that he often missed his mum – he emailed her regularly and spoke to her on the phone every week – and that he sometimes missed the gym and his mates there, too, but that
being with me more than made up for it.
    And me?
    I was happier than I’d ever been too. I thought I’d been in love with Flynn before, but this was different. After weeks of spending so much time together, you’d think
we’d get bored of each other but we just seemed to keep falling deeper and deeper in love. At night, when Flynn crept into my bed, he would hold me in his arms and whisper how much he loved
me.
    Not everything was perfect. I knew Dad fretted about the amount of time we spent together. I overheard Gemma reassuring him one day that school would start again in a few weeks and that our
lives would open out again.
    And then there was Leo. We often saw him in the distance, wandering about on his own. Several times I suggested we include him on our walks, but Flynn always refused.
    ‘He’s too weird,’ he’d say, wrinkling his nose. Then he’d grin. Anyway, I can’t share you, Riv.’
    It was funny, the way he said it. And flattering, too.
    But sometimes, just sometimes, I felt a bit suffocated. Flynn was always an intense person – and to be the object of all his intensity was like standing in the glare of the sun. Warm and
beautiful – but sometimes overwhelming.
    The weather grew cooler during the last week of August. I got my GCSE results – I’d done well in everything except French and Science, getting mostly As and Bs, with A*s in English
and Drama. Flynn had, predictably, got the highest grades possible in all of his AS levels, despite having had to fight to take them in between all his jobs. Now we had our results, our places at
Norton Napier were finally confirmed and it felt, suddenly, as if the summer was almost over.
    It was time for Dad to let Flynn move in. I was certain that he would. After all, Flynn had done everything Dad had asked of him and more, but as we stood together on the last Saturday in
August, waiting to hear what Dad said, I couldn’t help but feel anxious.
    I needn’t have worried. Dad gave us both a smile and said that Flynn had really impressed him over the summer and was free to move in properly whenever he wanted. No one mentioned the
issue of Flynn and me sleeping together but after Dad had gone off to water the vegetable patch, Flynn insisted that when he finally brought all his stuff over he was going to stop even pretending
to use the sofa.
    I was nervous about Dad’s reaction so I had a word with Gemma. She promised to talk to Dad about it and, much to my relief, Dad came to me the next day and said that Flynn and me
officially sleeping together was fine, so long as I didn’t feel under pressure to do so.
    ‘I don’t, Dad,’ I said, giving him a hug. It’s really what I want.’
    ‘Okay,’ he said, still looking a bit concerned. ‘And you’re definitely, you know, being safe . . . taking precautions?’
    ‘Yes,’ I said, blushing.
    ‘Then I guess that’s okay then.’ Dad sighed. ‘I mean, I’m not wild about it but . . .’
    He tailed off and I made some excuse to scuttle away, relieved that the whole business had been resolved at last.
    Flynn moved in the following weekend and, for the next fortnight, we were totally inseparable. In fact, the only times we were apart for more than an hour during that period were on the
Wednesday evenings when Flynn went for his counselling sessions. He’d had an assessment at the centre earlier in the summer and they’d recommended anger management group therapy.
I’d hoped Gemma would run the sessions but she explained that she wasn’t a youth