He put his arms around me. “Polite’s my middle name.”

“I thought it was James.”

“Yeah, ‘Polite James’. My parents had weird taste in names.” He lowered his head to mine again, then both of us jumped as the doorknob rattled.

“Hey,” came a man’s voice. “Is anyone in there?”

I stifled my laughter against Alex’s chest. “Be out in a minute,” he called.

“What’s he going to think when we both come out?” I whispered.

“Well, the truth, obviously. Two wild teenagers, making out in a bathroom.” He gave me a quick kiss, and we pulled apart.

I went over to the sink and hastily splashed cool water on my face. In the mirror, my short hair was like an explosion from the wind and the crying. And it still looked very red. I held back a sigh as I tried to smooth it down, wishing I’d asked Alex to buy a hairbrush.

“You know what, I think that colour makes your eyes look greener,” said Alex suddenly.

I looked up in surprise. “Really?”

He nodded, studying me. “It really does. They look a lot more...vivid now, or something.” He touched a spiky lock of my hair, his finger stroking gently through it. “You look beautiful, Willow.”

He meant it; I could tell. I smiled. “So, you think you can get used to me as a redhead?”

“Hmm, tough call. Yeah, I think I can deal with it.” Alex dropped a kiss on my nose, then closed his eyes. I felt the slight shift as he lifted his consciousness up through his chakra points, until it was hovering somewhere over his crown.

“Okay, the parking lot’s clear of angels, at least,” he said after a second. “What about you, do you sense anything?”

I’d already been checking, relaxing my mind and imagining the service-station forecourt. No particular feelings came. “I think we’re all right.”

We left the bathroom holding hands. My cheeks were burning.

“Sorry,” said Alex to the man waiting outside. He didn’t sound sorry; I could tell he was trying not to laugh. The man shook his head and didn’t answer, disappearing inside and banging the door.

“He thinks I’m a floozie,” I said as we started back to the bike. It was almost dark now; the town’s street lamps were casting soft pools of light up and down the main road. Happiness that Mom was alive still pulsed through me, making my steps light and springy.

“Definitely,” said Alex. “But he thinks I’m lucky.” He started to say something else and stopped, looking across the street.

Following his gaze, I saw a run-down shopping strip with a Goodwill charity store on the corner. The lights were on, and I knew that Alex was thinking of going in, if it was safe. Neither of us had any clothes, apart from what we had on – and hardly anything else, for that matter.