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much better.’
    ‘Is that an offer?’ I’d asked. ‘In your dreams, Zoe. Why don’t you get lost? Not in the mood for a slagging match.’
    ‘I’m not slagging her off. I’m just, you know, stating the obvious.’
    ‘Whatever,’ I said. ‘Come on, Soph.’
    ‘Guess it does look like we’re on a date,’ Sophie said as we walked away. ‘They don’t get how things are.’
    She was talking as if I knew what she meant. Suddenly I wasn’t sure I did. ‘And how is that?’
    Sophie shot me a surprised look. ‘You know – mates.’
    ‘Duh,’ I found myself saying. My reaction was totally at odds with what my heart was saying. ‘What do they know anyway? I want a girl who’s shorter than me, obviously – else I’ll develop a complex.’
    ‘Yeah, and you’ve enough of mine to deal with.’ Sophie nudged me, and I smiled. As we whirled on carousels and shot at plastic ducks and frittered coins on arcade machines I came to the realization that this ‘just mates’ thing wasn’t working for me. If I was honest, it hadn’t been for a while.
    The problem was what to do about it.
    I still wasn’t sure now and it was almost a year on. During the months I hadn’t seen Sophie it had been easy to forget about all that, trick myself into believing it didn’t mean anything. But we had spent enough time together this week for me to be pretty sure those feelings hadn’t gone away.
    Sophie snorted with laughter. Bond had just sent one of his foes flying out of the back of the helicopter, with a typically cheesy one-liner.
    ‘Hey.’ She glanced across. ‘You didn’t laugh. You OK?’
    ‘Uh-huh,’ I said, with a big fake smile.
    Sophie made a face at me. ‘Don’t look OK.’
    I considered telling her. But what good would it do? The thought that I might be interested in her as more than a mate hadn’t even crossed her mind. And I still didn’t understand why she’d cut me out of her life for so many months. Who was to say she wouldn’t do the same again?

SOPHIE
    When I woke up the next morning I wasn’t sure where I was. I could feel soft pillows around my head and smell sweetness in the air. As I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, it came back to me. I was in Reece’s house, and I’d slept better than I had in a long while. I took my time showering, trying out each of the shower gels in the en suite, posh brands, which, to my approval, were all free from animal testing.
    I got out, wrapping myself in a huge fluffy towel that matched the light green tiles, and found myself thinking about Reece’s invitation to stay. It definitely showed he was happy to be friends again – generally Reece didn’t do things he didn’t want to, and he wasn’t nice to people he didn’t like either.
    I heard a knock on the door.
    ‘I am making you Oat So Simple,’ came Reece’s voice. ‘Your presence is required in the kitchen in five minutes.’
    ‘Ten!’ I shouted. Quickly I rubbed myself down and pulled on the denim shorts I’d been wearing most of the summer and a lightweight top. After a bit of make-up and a quick hair brush I made my way downstairs. Reece was watching two bowls spin around in the microwave.
    ‘Perfect timing,’ he said without looking up. ‘The Oat So Simple is nearly fully formed and Mum and the poddling have just hit the shops. Wanna go down the cricket pitch later? I’m playing in a T20.’
    ‘Sure,’ I said, taking a seat and pouring myself some apple juice. ‘It’s been too long since I saw you in action.’
    The microwave pinged. Reece took out the bowls, brought them to the table and immediately started swathing his in golden syrup. I opened the local paper. It felt cosy and normal. Aiden and his car could have been a million miles away.
    When Reece and I arrived at Berkeley, there was already a decent crowd milling around, mostly enthusiastic parents and petulant-looking siblings, though there were a couple of girls I guessed might be girlfriends. I found a decent spot by the