Читать книгу He Is Mine and I Have No Other - Rebecca O'Connor - Страница 12

Mar and I sat in the cloakroom at elevenses, as we always did.

‘Well, what’s the matter with you? I saw you moping up the lane this morning.’

‘I was up half the night,’ I mumbled, tearing the plastic wrapper on my snack bar with my teeth. Mar bit into her apple.

‘Up half the night with what? Are you sick? What happened you?’

‘Don’t laugh, but I think I’m in love.’

‘Ah, would you give over,’ she said, roaring with laughter. Bits of apple and spittle flew out of her mouth.

I knew she’d react like this. It was a weekday: where on earth would I have seen or met a boy to fall in love with? I hadn’t been near the shops. And there’d been no mention of him before. As far as she was concerned I had the hots for one of her neighbours, the one I’d played a game of pool with once in her garage.

He’d been going up to the graveyard for as long as I could remember, I told her, but only the night before had it suddenly occurred to me – like a flash of lightning, was what I said – that he was the one. I told her about the dream I’d had that morning. That seemed to convince her.

‘So who is he?’

‘He’s a boarder up at St Colum’s.’

‘You don’t even know his name? For fuck’s sake.’

We took our pimply legs down from the bench opposite to let two girls pass, then slouched back down again, our heads sinking into dozens of maroon-coloured coats and blazers. Mar took another bite out of her apple. The bell rang.

‘I suppose we’ll see him at the Colum’s disco anyway.’

‘Do you think we’ll be let go?’

‘No,’ she smiled, ‘but so.’