Falling Fast - L.S

13

I stared at him, genuinely shocked. "But the play's brilliant and so are you. You say the lines like you really mean them."

He shrugged. "I don't mean I hate the play, though I do think a lot of it's stupid. I mean I hate being in it. Having to do rehearsals and staying after school and all that."

I frowned. "So why d'you agree to do it, then?"

Harry glanced sideways at me. "Promise you won't tell anyone?"

I nodded, a little thrill shooting through me at the idea we had a Secret.

"Nichols begged me to play Romeo. I don't mean he got down on his knees, but he went on and on about it. I kept saying I wasn't interested. In the end he virtually said that if I wanted a good mark on my A level English coursework, I'd better do it."

I clapped my hand over my mouth. "You're kidding," I said.

The green eyed boy stood up. "So then I turned the tables, didn't I? I said, okay, I'll do the play - though I can't come to rehearsals if I'm working - but only on condition you make sure I get a good grade for my coursework."

My eyes widened. "No way."

I scrambled to my feet and followed Harry past the bushes and under the tree. We emerged onto the path together.

"Well, maybe it wasn't quite that blatant." Harry casually brushed the earth and stuff off the back of my shirt. "But we both knew what we were saying. Nichols needs me to be in the play so it isn't a complete frigging mess. I need to get an A* in my English A level. Sorted."

I looked up at him, my mind reeling. Now I understood why Mr Nichols always seemed so wary around the curly haired boy - and why he never made a fuss about Harry missing rehearsals.

It was hard to accept - a student and a teacher making that kind of deal. Still, knowing Harry's personality - and his acting ability - it made total sense.

"I guess you don't need me to tell you how good you are, then," I said sarcastically.

He put his arm round my shoulders.
"I like you saying it, though," he said, kissing my hair.

We walked on a bit further. I marvelled at how easy it was to be with him. How natural it felt that, even after all that passion, we should just be walking along this path together.

"Why are you good at it - acting and stuff?" I said.

Harry shrugged. "I've got a good memory, that's all. Nichols explains what the lines mean to me once and I remember. After that, all you have to do is say them naturally."

Saying them naturally was the hardest part, as far as I was concerned. But the last thing I wanted to do was tell Harry how brilliant he was again. "Why d'you say a lot of the play's stupid?" I said. "I love it, especially all the bits about Romeo and Juliet saying how they feel about each other."

The curly haired boy laughed. "There's just so much talking. I mean, you've got to feel sorry for Romeo. He has to go on and on about how fabulous Juliet is, when all he wants to do is have sex with her. I mean, that's what he'd do, if he could. Forget all the poetry. Well, most of it."

An ice-cold chill settled round my heart. "Don't you like poetry?" My voice sounded small and vulnerable.

Harry squeezed my shoulder. "If you had to choose, between someone you liked writing you poems or kissing you, which would you go for? You can only have one. Forever. Poems or kisses."

I thought about it. "Kisses," I said. "Because the person would be more there, in the kisses. And so would I. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't like the occasional poem as well."

He grinned. "Exactly," he said.

We wandered back onto the open green and sat down on the grass. The earlier sunshine had faded now behind a thin layer of cloud. I pulled my jacket out of my bag and started putting it on.

"I can't believe you think your rubbish-looking," Harry said, watching me. "When I saw you in the High Street that time, wearing that top." He rolled his eyes. "I wanted to kiss you the whole time we were having that coffee."

"Did you?" I said, a warm glow spreading right through me.

He reached over and pulled me closer, so our foreheads and noses were almost touching. "You know what you said, earlier?" His voice was low. "I don't want to spoil it, okay? We can take it as slow as you want."

I stared into his green eyes, my heart pounding. This was all some mad dream, wasn't it? He was looking at me like... like he really wanted me. The whole of me. Not just sex, like Taylor had said. Not cynical, like Mum had warned. But real.

Harry kissed me lightly, then sat back.
We talked for a while and then he rolled over onto his side. "What's the time?"

I checked my phone. "Almost five."

He got up. "I gotta go," he said. "I've got to pick Caitlin up from a friend's near home, then come back for Gemma at six. And I'm doing an extra shift at the café tonight."

"Jeez, Harry," I said, scrambling to my feet beside him. "Anyone would think you were responsible for your entire family." I meant it as a joke, but Harry stared at me with this icy look in his eye.

"I am," he said. "My Mum works two jobs . She can't be at home all the time. I have to look after the others."

I blinked at him, this panicky feeling rising in my chest. I didn't want us to part like this - him all cross. Not after how brilliant it had been earlier, when he'd said all that about taking things slow.

We stared at each other for a moment, then he slid his arms round my waist. God, he felt good - his back all solid and muscular. I sank against his chest. I could feel his heart beating under the thin cotton top he was wearing.

"I wasn't laughing at you," I said quietly. "I think it's amazing how responsible you are. Most guys our age only think about themselves."

He bent down to find my face. He kissed my nose, then my mouth.

We stood there for I don't know how long, just lost in that kiss.

And then he pulled away. "Sorry I snapped at you before," he said quietly. "I just feel guilty sometimes."

I wanted to ask him what he meant. Guilty about what, for goodness' sake?  But he was brushing the grass off his jumper, already walking towards the park exit. I strolled beside him, my heart in my mouth.

When am I going to see you again?

Despite all my earlier directness I couldn't quite bring myself to ask it. He didn't say anything until we got to the park gates and turned towards the High Street.

"So, d'you want to meet up tomorrow?" he said. "I've got loads of essays and stuff to do, but I could see you in the afternoon. Mum and Gems will be at work and Caitlin's doing some half-term school club thing."

I gazed up at his earnest face, suddenly seeing how much he wanted me to want to see him again.

"Sure," I smiled. "I'd love to."