Free Diary of a Crush: French Kiss by Sarra Manning

from his seat. ‘Let me do it for you.’
    He was wearing a new pair of dark jeans (I’m sad enough to have his whole wardrobe committed to memory), a Beatles T-shirt and his scruffy leather jacket. As he reached up to put my bag away, his T-shirt rose up and I half-shut my eyes rather than look at his stomach, but I still got a glimpse. It wasn’t a six-pack, but it was sort of taut. Then I realised that he might have seen my tummy when I was trying to put my bag away. It might have been lack of sleep, it might have been the boiled egg that Mum had forced me to eat before we left (one of the reasons why we were so late), but seeing Dylan’s stomach and wondering if he’d seen mine made me feel slightly sick.
    I grunted something at him that might have been thank you and slumped down next to Shona.
    She was busy telling Simon and Dylan exactly why we were so late.
    ‘Well, then Edie discovered that she’d packed the jeans and jumper that she was meant to be wearing today, then she had a fight with her mum about eating a proper breakfast and then we were just about to leave when she realised that she hadn’t bought any film for her camera so we had to stop at a newsagent’s on the way. We had to go to three of them before we found one that sold black-and-white film.’
    ‘Remind me not to ask you for a character reference if I’m ever up in court,’ I snapped.
    Shona pulled a face at Simon and Dylan. ‘She’s been like this ever since she got up.’
    ‘You’re obviously not a morning person, Edie,’ said Dylan. ‘I’ll have to remember that.’
    ‘That’s exactly what I said to her and she did something very rude with one of her fingers,’ teased Shona.
    Silence was definitely the best form of defence. I peered round the coach. Mia and Paul, looking all snuggly-wuggly, were sitting at the back near Nat and Trent who waved at me. I summoned up enough energy to raise a hand in their direction.
    It was going to be hours before we got to Dover. I snuggled down into the folds of my dark green jumper and shut my eyes. It was funny, the night before, I couldn’t sleep at all because I was thinking about Dylan, but that morning, when he was just inches away from me, I couldn’t stop myself from nodding off.
     
    We’d been on the coach for five hours and every time I went to sleep, we stopped at yet another motorway service station. And I couldn’t be left sleeping on the coach, oh no. According to Tania, I could be attacked by a homicidal, axe-wielding maniac, so Shona had to wake me up and drag me across the car park. To make matters worse, she got Dylan to do it once. I could feel someone’s hands shaking me gently and I’m ashamed to say he got one of my fists in his face (I’m not a good riser, OK?).
    When a Dylan-like voice said, ‘Ow,’ I quickly opened my eyes to see him crouched in front of me, rubbing his cheek.
    ‘Sorry,’ I mumbled.
    ‘I hope you don’t do that to Josh when he tries to wake you up,’ Dylan drawled.
    I gasped. ‘He’s never been with me when I’m asleep. I mean, I haven’t… We’re not… It’s none of your business!’
    I pushed past him and practically ran down the aisle and off the coach.
    The next time I fell asleep, I knew I had a clear two hours before we stopped at Dover. I was just settling into a really good dream about, well, never mind, when I was startled awake by some icy-cold liquid drenching me for the second time that day.
    ‘What the…?!’
    ‘Ooops, sorry Edie.’ Mia was standing over me with an upended can of Diet Coke. ‘We must have hit a pothole.’
    ‘Yeah, right,’ spat Shona, who’d also got doused. ‘There’s loads of potholes on motorways.’
    Mia shrugged. ‘Whatever. I hope it doesn’t stain.’
    ‘I’m soaked,’ I whimpered. I could feel the Coke seeping into the seat underneath me. My jeans were wet through.
    ‘Oh Edie, you look like you’ve been caught short,’ Mia giggled.
    ‘Do me a favour, Mia – go and play in