Free Lies Like Love by Louisa Reid Page B

said, because this time he really did want to know. She didn’t look quite right; Lorraine had been telling the truth after all. He’d wondered if maybe she’d been putting him off.
    ‘Are you better? I’m sorry you weren’t well. I came over – did your mum tell you?’ he said.
    She nodded and sort of smiled, her eyes blinking too fast, checking over her shoulder. Her shoelaces were untied, he noticed, her jumper on inside out. But her hair was neat and tidy, the long blonde wave tamed into two schoolgirl plaits.
    ‘I can come again, if you like. Help with the essay?’
    ‘No. That’s OK. I’ve done it.’
    ‘Oh, fine. Good, well, shall I wait for you after school? I was going to go to the talk, you know, this archaeology thing? Do you fancy it?’ He was determined not to losethe thread, sure he could get through if he kept trying, pull closer; mend this.
    ‘I have to get Pete.’ Her face was so hard to read today, opaque. Leo shifted his bag on to the other shoulder, the bell signalling the end of break telling him to get a move on. Right, so try something else.
    ‘Oh, yeah, I forgot. Shame. Well, do you want to get together tomorrow, then?’ This was starting to look like desperation. No more, Leo. This was her last chance.
    ‘No. Thanks though,’ she said, and walked away, hurrying into her classroom.
    Audrey disappeared for the rest of the week. As the next few days drifted past, blurring into the weekend, he began to wonder if the way he thought she’d looked at him had been real. Well, he was busy with his work, with the farm, helping Sue and with his running, a bit of drawing, reading. He had enough to do. But still, when he thought of Audrey now, he didn’t quite believe that he’d ever held her hand or that she’d smiled and screamed like she was on fire.

Audrey
    Most days were OK. Never better than that though, and I tried to forget that there could be more. OK would have to do.
    At least I had school, a safe place to go, so long as Lizzy wasn’t bothering me. She didn’t tend to when I was with Jen. Jen was solid, a proper girl, and I liked sitting with her and having what I had decided to call a friend.
    ‘You know what?’ Jen said to me the week after the fair, looking up and staring across the cafeteria, chewing her sandwich slowly.
    ‘No, what?’
    ‘Leo Bright is permanently staring at you, Aud.’
    My head swam, different dizzy, and I looked for my stomach, which had dived to the floor. I was trying not to think about Leo; it was dangerous to even look his way. I had put the night of the fair away, shut it up safe, and I couldn’t let myself go there or feel like that again. But it was all I wanted, really. That wild, free feeling and Leo’s arm round me. I remembered the scratch of his thick duffle coat on my cheek and how his hand was bigger than mine.
    ‘He isn’t,’ I muttered, not following the line of Jen’s gaze in case I caught his eye and he came over. Jen turned to me and grinned.
    ‘If I were you, I’d be well chuffed. He’s cool. And sweet, really nice. One of the few guys in the sixth form who’ll even acknowledge us pathetic Year Elevens exist. You should capitalize on this, Audrey.’ There were a lot of things Jen thought I ought to do: go round to her house, meet her older mates who didn’t go to college, go to gigs with her, exhibitions in town, even stay the night. She kept inviting; I kept saying no. Soon she’d get it, and then what?
    ‘Yeah, he is nice,’ I had to say, because I owed it to Leo. He was better than nice, but I couldn’t find the words for it, for how he made me feel. ‘He lives near us. So I know him a bit.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘And nothing.’ I laughed and shrugged, trying to get the message across. ‘Anyway, I’ve got to go.’
    Mum was waiting outside school in the car. She drove fast to the surgery.
    ‘So,’ said Mum, ‘you’re getting on all right, then?’ She took my hand, examined my fingernails and tutted.
    I