All the boys wanted to be his friend, and all the girls wanted to be his girlfriend. Me included. Full of false bravado and egged on by so-called friends, I’d asked him out and he agreed, to my shock. We said we’d meet outside McDonalds at two on Saturday, but he didn’t arrive. I waited for an entire hour and wished I hadn’t when he finally turned up with two girls and a group of boys from his class. He frowned at me as I asked him what he was doing, and he said, airily, “Oh, I texted you. I can’t make it.”

Then he went inside, arm slung casually over one of the girls, as the group laughed at me. I ran all the way home and spent the entire weekend crying and listening to sad songs.

Rob was a bad boy to the core. He had a tattoo when no one else in school did. He smoked, cigarettes and weed. He drank. He had sex with probably half the girls in his class. Then he left as suddenly as he’d arrived. I never got over that sense of shame and the way every time his gaze landed on me, there’d be this weird mix of sneering and pity. As if he didn’t quite know whether to feel bad for what he did, or revel in it.

It put me off those kinds of boys for life. Now the grown-up version is in my space, and the fact he’s built like a tank, with a body you’d have to be dead not to be impressed by doesn’t help me remain calm.

Part of me wants to hate him, and part of me wants to get his attention, have him desire me. Not that a man who looks like him would ever go for a woman like me. I bet his type is blonde, busty, and loud. Funny in the way I’m not. The soul of the party.

Still ignoring him, I climb into bed and pull the duvet up and then curl on my side, back to him. “You can turn the alarm on. I think Brutus has learned his lesson.”

I expect him to say something, but he doesn’t. After a moment, his footsteps retreat and the beep of the alarm being turned on rings out in the silence of the room.

I hate this. I feel trapped and angry with the man guarding me, but terrified of the men threatening me, so I put on an audiobook and try to lose myself in the story, but my eyes grow heavy and my mind drifts away.