All dark, with his dark broody eyes. And his black hair. And his long black eyelashes.

He’s not good like Alex. Good and tall and brown-haired Alex. With his frilly shirt and his eyes and so on … he’s …

He was still just staring at me.

He doesn’t seem to know that staring is rude.

Well, two can play at that game.

I stared back.

And I’m not going to blink either. That will show him.

Then he stopped staring and came toward me and did up-close staring. His face was only about a foot away from mine.

Looking right in my eyes.

He said, “Tha’s got eyes like a wild cat.”

I could out-stare him any day.

Any day.

It suddenly started to hail quite heavily. I could hear the pattering and bouncing on my hat. I could see the hailstones on his dark hair, hanging there like handfuls of pearls. He didn’t seem to notice. Just went on staring right into my eyes. Then I felt a hailstone hit my face. It didn’t just ping off—it started slipping slowly down the middle of my forehead. Then it got to my eyebrows and I thought it had gone. But then I felt it start slipping down the side of my nose, like a tear. I went on staring. He was not going to win this staring competition. I could feel the hailstone had just got to my nostril when … still staring at me …

He did this thing.

He stepped right up to me, so I nearly went cross-eyed trying to keep staring and … then he licked his lips and put his tongue out and … and …

And he LICKED off the hailstone.

He was licking my nose. I could feel his hot, soft tongue on my nose.

And he was staring at me while he did it.

What? What?!

This wasn’t right.

This wasn’t even on Cousin Georgia’s snogging scale.

This was just wrong.

Very, very wrong.

Then a girl’s voice behind him shouted, “Oy, Cain. What’s tha doing? I’ve been waiting by the bike shed like tha said for half a bloody hour.”

He was licking my face!

Like I was an ice cream!

I nearly said, “I am not an ice cream! I am a human being!”

He said softly to me, “Tasty.”

Then he took a step back and turned around slowly. Behind him I saw Beverley approaching. Cain turned back to me and smiled his mean smile. Then he smiled his mean smile and made a clicking noise like you do when you say giddyup to a horsie. As he swished his coat round and walked off up the hill toward the moors I could see that Beverley didn’t look pleased to see me.

She didn’t say, “Gosh, how nice to see you again, Tallulah, on this inclement morning.” Had she seen the licking incident? She just stood with her arms folded looking at me. Even though it was hailing, she only had on a short-sleeved jumper.