The Boy with the Blind Eyes

FOURTEEN

'So, you guys were just sleeping and someone came in?' Ali shook her head from her usual place, down the end of the huge table. It had been exactly two days since the interrogation with Mr. Smarty-pants, and Tamsin wasn't feeling any better. While their room continued to serve as a crime scene, Tamsin and Lina had been assigned to other dorm rooms. Tamsin was bunking with Johanna and Thea, while Lina was down on the first floor, with Camilla and Ali. Tamsin was just glad she'd ended up with people she knew.

'That's exactly what happened,' Tamsin sighed. 'I heard a noise so I got up, and then I bumped into someone—really small but really strong—and I got clocked in the head.' She shrugged. 'I just hope there's sufficient DNA for the forensics to be able to find the guy. Or girl.'

'But how would an intruder get into this place? I mean, have you seen the security here?' Blake shook his head scornfully. 'It's too hard to just break in—there's major security codes protecting us.'

'There would have been signs of a forced entry, wouldn't there?' Ali piped up again, chewing through her muesli.

'We think it's the same person who took my stuff, too,' Lina said. 'I mean, Tamsin said she smelt perfume, and there's no place else I would have put a thousand-dollar watch. There just isn't any other explanation.'

Tyrone gasped suddenly, brown eyes wide with worry. 'Did either of you consider that the intruder may not be from outside the complex?'

Tamsin frowned. 'You mean somebody from inside this place did it?'

Lina scoffed. 'No way. I practically know everyone here.'

'So?' Johanna intercepted flicking her glossy brown mane over her thin shoulder. 'Just because you're well-known doesn't mean your dorm can't be broken into! I'm sure there are people here who don't like you, Lina, no offense. I think Tyrone is onto something.'

'There are no likely candidates, Johanna,' Lina laughed. 'As if anyone here would ever rob me. Like I said, I know most of the people that go here, and I'm pretty much friends with them. And don't you think it's incriminating that they only stole my things?'

'Yes, but maybe they just liked your things better.' Johanna glanced at Tamsin. 'Again, no offense.'

Tamsin flushed. The people here didn't know she had next to nothing, and didn't need to. 'None taken.'

'Going back to what you said before Lina...' Ali frowned thoughtfully, 'you said that only some people in the school know and like you. Who are the people that don't?'

Lina fanned herself and laughed nervously. 'I can't imagine there's very many of them!'

'That's not what I asked.'

'Look, I don't know, okay?' Lina snapped suddenly, banging her fist on the table. 'We just don't know. Guessing isn't good enough anyway, we have to wait for the detective to piece it together in a few weeks. But guys. Come on. This isn't a big deal. So we have a maybe-burglar. Whoever it is, they'll be found and this will all be over. Okay? So can we drop this please?'

Next to her, Brett was unusually quiet. He took a bite out of his perfectly cooked toast, now cold, and sighed through his nose. Tamsin nudged him. She didn't know at what point they'd become so close, but she liked his friendship. He made her feel warm and safe and accepted, like when she was with him, nobody could ever question her past.

In response to her nudge, Brett smiled a little. 'You wanna go for a walk to the pond?'

Tamsin smiled back at him and accepted his hand. 'I would love to.'

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The forest was damp and isolated, as usual. Tamsin gasped at the memory of a few days ago—when she was on the floor, screaming like a tortured bird, Angus holding her and reassuring her without using words. She felt odd being there with Brett, like he could somehow look at the ground and know she and Angus had shared a somewhat intimate moment. But if he did, Brett gave nothing away. He took a seat on the bench and patted the space next to him for Tamsin.

She gladly did, nestled into the crook of his muscular arm, thoughts of Angus scattering away like frightened birds. Brett sighed and sat up, causing Tamsin to do the same. He had been acting strangely all morning, all quiet with a worried look in his eye. 'I need to say something.'

Tamsin nodded, prompting him. 'What is it?'

'It's about you.'

She frowned. About her? What could he possibly have to say about her?

Brett stood up in front of her, pacing in front of the pond anxiously. 'I don't know where or how to start.'

'Just say what you have to, Brett.' He was making her anxious now.

His blonde hair shone angelically in the sun, strands of gold running through his standard crew cut. Tamsin relaxed back into the bench as he began to talk, fast. 'I asked you here because it's away from people. I came to tell you that—well, uh...I'm just going to say it. I like you. I really do, Tamsin. Plain and simple, I have...' he exhaled sharply, 'strong feelings for you.'

Tamsin blinked, her mouth parting in shock.

'Don't feel obligated to say anything back,' he stressed, his oceanic eyes full of concern. 'I just wanted to tell you. I mean, if anything, I'm just hoping you don't walk away hating me.'

Tamsin gasped. 'Brett, I could never hate you. Why would I?'

'I don't know. Just worst case scenario I guess,' he smiled sheepishly. 'If you don't want me like that...like me like that...then that's perfectly okay, too. But I'm here, and...' he scratched the back of his neck nervously, 'available.'

Tamsin crossed over to him. 'Brett, it's not that I don't...have feelings for you too, it's just that I...I've never been involved with anyone before, and I don't want to hurt you because I see it all the time and— '

'Getting hurt in any relationship is inevitable,' he said quietly. 'If it's by you, all the better. Tamsin, do you...like me, too?'

She blushed, tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. 'I do like you,' she said slowly. 'I mean...yeah. I guess I do. I like you.' The more times she said it, the more certain it became. She did like Brett. He made her feel safe and secure and—dare she say it? —comfortable. She smiled. It was probably up there as one of the best conversations of her life.

The corner of Brett's lips tugged upwards. 'I wasn't expecting this. At all.'

Tamsin sighed gently. 'I'm glad it did. I'm glad you told me.'

'So...does that mean I can kiss you?'

Butterflies leapt into her stomach. Her mouth ran dry. Her heart accelerated dramatically. She'd never been kissed before, not properly! What if she got it completely wrong? What if he changed his mind afterwards and walked away? Tamsin closed her eyes for a moment, stilling herself. What if you say no, and he takes it the wrong way? What then? Her eyes opened and she nodded. 'You can.' She didn't know why dread crawled into her stomach and why her eyes watered instinctively. Wasn't a kiss meant to be smooth and magical and romantic? Why did this feel so awkward and formal?

Brett's hands met her hips expertly, and she wondered how many times he'd done this, how many girls he'd kissed before. Where did she put her hands? Flailing them about confusedly in the air for a moment, she settled for his shoulders. Almost possessively, Brett drew her hips into his body. And then his eyes fluttered closed. Taking his cue, Tamsin closed hers too. Together they leaned in, and their lips touched ever so softly. His lips were rough against her mouth; greedy. But his lips were smooth and tasted of Nutella.

A soft sigh escaped Brett. After a few seconds, Tamsin got the hang of what to do with her mouth, and a few more moments after that, the kiss was almost enjoyable. She pulled away, not sure how to feel. The kiss was nice, but she hadn't felt fireworks or anything. Was that normal? Oh, well, she thought. It was her first proper kiss ever, and he was pretty much a stranger. She supposed the kisses would grow better when they go closer.

'What does this mean?' Brett asked.

Tamsin shrugged and laughed suddenly. 'Let's just see where we go.'

'Why don't we do what all couples do and go on a date?' His cheeky grin surfaced.

'I'd love to.'

'Giovanni's, Friday night?'

She nodded, unusually nervous. 'Cool.'

'Pickyou up at seven.'

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