spent enough time with me already tonight.’
He looked away across the car park and shook his head. ‘I’ll see you to your car.’
‘It will be just my luck to find I’ve left my lights on and the battery’s dead.’ I gave a nervous laugh, wishing I could stop saying stupid things.
‘Then I’ll give you a lift.’
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I sat quietly until I’d finished my tea. I didn’t rush; I didn’t want this to end. I wanted to stay here with Daniel. He was watching me; I could feel his eyes on my face. When I glanced up, he didn’t look away; he just smiled. I felt a blush forming and swallowed the last of my tea. Taking my cup, he put it with his and got up to put it in the bin.
‘Erm, I’m parked over here,’ I said, feeling awkward as he followed me towards my small white car, which was parked in the far corner of the car park. There were still plenty of people around and I breathed in the smell of exhaust fumes and warm rubber. Daniel walked beside me, our arms brushing occasionally, and we reached my car too soon. I turned to him with a smile.
‘Well, thanks again for getting stuck with me. You know, just for… being there.’
‘You’re welcome. I’m glad I jumped in there at the last moment, otherwise you’d have been alone.’
I nodded and unlocked my car with an electronic beep. ‘You don’t need a lift anywhere, do you?’
‘No, I’m good, thanks.’ He smiled, and I stared at him for a moment, trying to commit his features to memory. What was I doing, staring at him like that! I turned away quickly and opened my car door.
‘Can I have your number?’ he said, suddenly. I turned and blinked at him. ‘Just so I can check you’re all right tomorrow.’
‘Oh! Okay.’ I slipped into the driver’s seat and fished out my phone from my bag. ‘I don’t know it off by heart, I’m sorry.’
‘No problem.’
I reeled off the number to him as he programmed it into his phone, then my phone beeped with an incoming text message.
‘That’s my number,’ he said. ‘Call me if you need anything.’
My cheeks grew hot and my heart speeded up. ‘Thank you.’
He nodded and stepped away and I reached out to close the door.
‘It was nice to see you again, Elena,’ he said, and then he smiled and walked away.
I took a deep breath as I started my car and pulled out of the parking space. I could see Daniel across the car park, walking towards a white pick-up truck. He turned as he reached his door, gave a wave, then disappeared inside. My heart thumped and my skin tingled. I felt more alive than I had in months. Exultant. I’d seen Daniel Moore again, and he hadn’t ruined my memories of him. In fact, he’d made them better, because he was so nice and he’d remembered our kiss. I couldn’t believe it. Surely I had been one of many.
I probably wasn’t in the best frame of mind to be driving. My head was up in the clouds somewhere and my hands were shaking. Rachel’s house was closer than my flat, so I drove to hers instead of going home. I could phone Alex from there and tell him where I was.
Rachel had to undo three bolts and unlock the door with a key before she finally opened it. She peered out into the darkness suspiciously before realising it was me. ‘Oh! Hello! What’s up?’
‘I just got stuck in a lift!’ I said, rocking forward on my tiptoes.
‘Really? Oh no! Are you all right? That sounds horrific. Come in, come in.’
‘I’m okay,’ I said, stepping into her brightly lit hall as she rebolted the front door. ‘I’m not interrupting anything, am I?’ I said, taking in her pink silk pyjamas and heeled feather mules. ‘You’re not expecting Patrick?’
‘Oh no. You know I always dress like this. Are you hurt? You’re bleeding!’ Rachel peered at my leg before herding me towards her sitting room.
‘It’s just a graze,’ I said, sitting down on her pink sofa. Everything about Rachel was bright, from her red hair and vintage clothes, to her flamboyant taste in home decor. Going back to my flat after being in her house was like stepping into a black and white movie. Alex thought she was crazy, but I loved her. ‘You’ll never guess who I got stuck in the lift with,’ I said.
‘Who?’
‘You’re meant to have a guess.’
‘I’m rubbish at stuff like that. Just tell me!’
‘Daniel Moore!’
‘What? The Daniel Moore?’ Rachel’s eyes popped and she gasped. Sitting back down with a bump, she stared at me in disbelief. ‘The one you stalked in sixth form?’
I nodded, feeling mildly offended. These days I preferred to think of him as the boy I kissed at the prom, not the boy I stalked for two years. ‘Yes.’
‘Just the two of you? How did you cope with that?’ Rachel was looking at me askance, as though she suspected I might have taken all my clothes off and begged him to ravish me.
‘It was a bit of a shock at first, but he was so nice. I was really worried he was going to be vile and arrogant and completely spoil my memories of him, but he was just lovely.’
‘Oh God, please tell me you haven’t resurrected your crush on him. I don’t want you to get arrested. Stalking someone when you’re a teenager is different to stalking someone when you’re an adult.’
‘What? I had a crush on him, yes, but to say I stalked him is a bit much.’
‘Finding out his address from school documents? Check. Riding past his house on your bike? Check. Stealing items of clothing so you could sniff them in bed? Check—’
‘Oh, come on! It was just his scarf and I didn’t steal it, he left it behind. I just looked after it for him overnight. I left it on his chair the next day.’
‘I made you do that.’
‘Yeah, meanie.’ I pouted. ‘Anyway, I’m not seventeen any more. I’m a sophisticated young woman and I’m already in a relationship.’
‘An unhappy relationship.’
‘Geez! What’s with you tonight?’ I snapped. ‘Are you trying to piss on my parade or what?’
‘I’m just worried about you, Elena. I’m the one who mopped up your tears and listened to you go on and on about him for months after we finished sixth form.’
‘I did not. He kissed me and I was happy.’
Rachel blew out through her lips. ‘You were devastated, more like. You were on a high for about three days and then you crashed back down to earth big time. You moped all summer. I’d be like “You coming out” and you’d be like “No, I’m going through my Daniel box”.’
I gasped. Somehow, I’d forgotten about the Daniel box. Possibly because I didn’t want to admit to being that sad and pathetic. It was just a shoebox that contained bits and pieces I’d collected from him over the two years at sixth from. A piece of paper that had fallen out of his bag, pencil shavings, a pen lid indented with his teeth marks. A leaf from his drive. I’d written poems about him and drawn pictures too. What had happened to that box? Was it still in my old wardrobe at my parents’ house?
‘So what’s he like now anyway? Does he still have that long hair? Was he wearing a black leather jacket?’
‘No, he was wearing a jumper and jeans. He’s still recognisable, but older, obviously. He’s got short hair, bit of a beard, and he’s filled out. He’s