The Gap Year

Chapter 21

Please, in heavens name don't let it be true. I staggered along the dirt track away from the apartment, my mind cloudy because of what Katie has just said.

'Watch it lady!'

Shit, focus Emma! I jumped as a taxi beeped at me as I aimlessly wondered out in to the road. I need to sit down on the bench and think. It can't be true, there is absolutely no way that I can have the hots for Harry. It would be completely illogical to think so, and if there is one thing that I am good at it's logical rationale, the very essence of the skills required to become a future leading doctor, not only of science but of my community too. And thus by using such logic I hereby present my case for consideration:

· He is a barman (a very lowly profession, although continuous supply of red wine / ouzo is always welcome)

· He lives in Greece (okay so I know I do too, but that's only until the end of summer and then, as we are all aware, I'm going to medical school)

· He is from the North of England (I can barely understand a word he say's even though he claims to be from the posh part)

· He only dates blondes (as confirmed by the presence of his very blonde and beautiful girlfriend)

· He is ugly (like so ugly that he has to cover himself in all that flowing hair and golden tan)

· He is a terrible kisser (I was literally gagging, okay I flinched, okay I'm lying, he is a totally awesome kisser)

Oh dear. Woopsie. It would appear that Katie is right. I am totally gagging for it with Harry. That's why I kissed him so freely and why I'm now parading myself about town dressed up like a lady of the night. The question is what to do now? Again, let's be sensible and focus on the rational; namely turn around, go home and read the Bible whilst sticking hot pins in to my face, but do not under any circumstances continue walking towards Zorb's. Arghhh, but that's what I'm doing. Do you hear me feet, turn around right now otherwise the left one of you is going to stamp down hard on the right one.

'Oww!' I yelped.

'Hey lady, you okay?' Ugh, Adonis had witnessed my delirium. 'You just stood on your own foot. Why you wanna do that?'

'Go away!' I hissed.

'Hey Harry.' Oh no, he was calling him over. 'Your cute English lady, she's going crazy out here, stamping about like she thinks she's the Lord of the Dance. I told you she was crazy, but boy oh boy is she looking good tonight. You are in for a very good time my friend.'

How would Adonis know whether or not Harry is in for a good time? Because it's that obvious to everyone, isn't it? No doubt including Rebecca. Oh the humiliation; as if he's ever going to so much as look at a plain Jane like me when he's already enjoying sweet loving with the local beauty queen.

But it's too late for the level of analysis required to talk my way out of this one. He's here and looking all kinds of smokin' hot in his white t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, an effortless king of cool, but above all he's smiling, a huge full face grin, so genuine it seems that I'm starting to think that maybe me turning up, although an obvious surprise, is the best thing that ever happened. He looks so expectant that suddenly I don't have a clue what to do. My chest, my stomach they're all tightening; my poor hands they're trembling. Just smile back and the pain will release, it has to. But instead my mind is blank, my face rendered a mute canvass.