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Chapters (86)
  1. Title Page
  2. CONTENTS
  3. Love
  4. Before
  5. One
  6. ONE
  7. Two
  8. TWO
  9. Three
  10. THREE
  11. Four
  12. FOUR
  13. Five
  14. FIVE
  15. Six
  16. SIX
  17. Seven
  18. SEVEN
  19. Eight
  20. EIGHT
  21. Nine
  22. NINE
  23. Ten
  24. TEN
  25. Eleven
  26. ELEVEN
  27. After
  28. One
  29. ONE
  30. Two
  31. TWO
  32. Three
  33. THREE
  34. Four
  35. FOUR
  36. Five
  37. FIVE
  38. Six
  39. SIX
  40. Seven
  41. SEVEN
  42. Eight
  43. EIGHT
  44. Nine
  45. NINE
  46. Ten
  47. TEN
  48. Eleven
  49. ELEVEN
  50. Twelve
  51. TWELVE
  52. Thirteen
  53. THIRTEEN
  54. Fourteen
  55. FOURTEEN
  56. Fifteen
  57. FIFTEEN
  58. Sixteen
  59. SIXTEEN
  60. Seventeen
  61. SEVENTEEN
  62. Eighteen
  63. EIGHTEEN
  64. Nineteen
  65. NINETEEN
  66. Twenty
  67. TWENTY
  68. Twenty-One
  69. TWENTY-ONE
  70. Twenty-Two
  71. TWENTY-TWO
  72. Twenty-Three
  73. TWENTY-THREE
  74. Twenty-Four
  75. TWENTY-FOUR
  76. Twenty-Five
  77. TWENTY-FIVE
  78. Twenty-Six
  79. TWENTY-SIX
  80. Twenty-Seven
  81. TWENTY-SEVEN
  82. Twenty-Eight
  83. TWENTY-EIGHT
  84. Eleven Months Later
  85. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  86. Copyright

I’m ready now, but Adara’s right, it’s too soon. I only met Poppy a few hours ago. I suppose I should be pleased that I’m the one in control, for once. Usually I’m the one waiting. The one who messages too soon and answers too quickly and is left on read for days until I get a Sorry, babe. Been busy response.

This is the best and the worst bit.

The best because the promise of it is dizzying. I’ve never actually been on a first date, which is tragic, I know. Most of the girls I’ve dated – if you can even call it dating – have been messy hook-ups at parties after too much vodka and not enough self-control that I’ve tried – and failed – to turn into something more. The thought of going on one with Poppy, deciding what to wear and sharing a pizza and wondering if she’s going to kiss me, makes me feel light-headed. It shouldn’t – I’m not twelve, after all – but I just want to know what that’s like.

Just once.

It’s also the worst because I have to navigate my next move with the sort of care usually reserved for disarming a bomb. I have to be cool, but not cold. Flirty, but not creepy. Then, if I don’t manage to fuck up somehow and we go out, I have to worry if she’s going to turn up and if she does, if she’s going to come with some mates, assuming it’s a group thing, and if she does turn up alone, I have to spend the entirety of the date wondering if this is a friend thing or a more than friend thing. Even if she kisses me, I have to ask myself if it’s because she likes me or if it’s because she’s had too much cider and wants to see what it’s like to kiss a girl.

It’s exhausting.

‘Three days,’ Adara reminds me.

Three days.

Three

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THREE

As soon as I put my key in the front door, I hear my mother calling to me from the kitchen.

‘Hey, Mama,’ I call back. The whole flat smells of ginger and garlic – of home – and something in me realigns as I kick the front door shut behind me and bend down to unlace my DMs.

‘Ashana?’ she says again as I toe them off and drop my backpack to the floor. ‘Is that you?’

‘No, it’s an axe murderer.’ I shrug off my leather jacket and hang it up. ‘I’m just over-affectionate.’