I clear my throat, desperately praying my voice doesn’t squeak. ‘Hey, Alistair,’ I squeak.
‘I’ve added you on Bebo,’ he mutters, kicking at the ground and my vision swims before me. Mum doesn’t let me use the internet at home except on Saturdays – how will I accept his add?
‘Cool,’ I say, unable to manage anything else.
‘Do you want a Monster Munch?’ He offers me the half-eaten bag. It crinkles in his hand and it is the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.
‘Nah,’ I reply in a faint voice. ‘I’ve got some Apple Tango. I really, really love Apple Tango.’
‘Cool,’ he nods and I think hegetshow great Apple Tango is.
There is a proper circle of onlookers now, all watching and waiting. The anticipation is thick in the air and I catch a muttered Borat impression from someone: ‘Alistair Morris thinks Fanny Adamsis niiiice!’
‘I, um…’ he trails off and I hold my breath, taking in the potent aroma of Lynx Africa aftershave and his hair, so slick with gel. ‘Um, I wondered if you wanted to maybe go to the cinema or something?’ He clears his throat, quickly adding, ‘With me, I mean.’
Louise cannot help herself and a low hum of squeal leaks out. I elbow her sharply. ‘Ermmmm, OK, yeah,’ I say at last and my voice sounds a thousand miles away. My heart is racing and I can feel sweat dribbling down my back under the school uniform and coat layers. Shelley tightens her arm in mine supportively. I think about dissecting all of this with both of them at my house after school. Is it even real? Am I really here?
‘Sweet.’ He nods a lot, and then offers up a half smile. His incisor is crooked and I decide this will be my favourite thing about him. My favourite thing about Alistair Morris. When I talk to Louise and Shelley later, I’ll be like, ‘He has the fittest smile, I love his crooked tooth, it’s my fave thing about him, y’know?’
I’m going out with Alistair Morris, Alistair Morris is going to be my boyfriend.
He bites his lip and smiles my new favourite smile again. ‘Can I have your number?’
‘Cool, yes, sure.’ I am flustered as I hand Shelley my Apple Tango. I pull out my flip phone and read the number aloud from my contacts.
We are going to fall in love – I basically love him already. We are going to be the envy of everyone in the year. We will speak every day, all day every day, learning everything about the other. We’ll be madly in love and then get married – not too old, like twenty – and I will tell people at our wedding that my favourite thing has always been his smile.
‘I’ll text you,’ he says, hitching his backpack further up his shoulder. ‘See ya later.’ He nods formally at Louise, then Shelley, before wandering over to his group again. They greet him with a cheer and some back slapping. Someone in the crowd does another Borat impression.
I can’t believe it. Me and Alistair Morris, together forever.
CHAPTER THREE
Bibi nods encouragingly as I sketch out a Dickhead Tree of my exes on the back of the magazine. I hand it over and she studies it, trying to make out the details I’ve written across an advert for Kardashian make-up.
She takes a drag on her vape. The stink of raspberry-flavoured smoke is worse than normal smoke. ‘So, will you start at the beginning? With your first boyfriend?’
Louise jumps up and down in her seat. ‘Aaaaah, Alistair Morris! Oh my god, that whole thing seems like a lifetime ago!’
Bibi gives her a dark look. She doesn’t like any overt reference being made to the fact that Louise and I have known each other longer; that Louise is the – unspoken – OG; that Bibi fills a hole left behind by Shelley dumping us. I gulp hard at the thought.
‘He was so nice and you had such a sweet relationship.’ Louise pauses, grinning impishly at Bibi. ‘They were snoggingconstantly, Bibi, you cannot even imagine the saliva wastage. Esther was dangerously dehydrated throughoutmost of Years Ten and Eleven.’ She turns back to me as Bibi barks a laugh. ‘How will you find him, Est?’
I scoff. ‘Same as everyone else finds anyone from school.’ She looks at me blankly, so I add, ‘Facebook.’
My hands shaking, I pull up Facebook Messenger, searching for his name.
There he is.
Alistair Morris was the one bright spot in my time at school. He was much, much more popular than Lou, Shelley and me – the star of the football team – but he was more than an idiot sports star. He was kind, funny, and a bit of a dork who had to pretend not to be as clever as he really was, in order to maintain his place in the cool kid gang. And when he noticed me – when he actually liked me – I assumed it would change my entire existence.
Maybe he still could?
He is – at the very least – a decent place to start in this mission. A safe, lovely person who it will be genuinely nice to reconnect with.
I start typing.
Esther Adamsonline
