‘Not like that. You looked around like you were sizing us all up. When you got to me, your eyes seemed to see everything about me. Like you were some wise owl or something.’

I remember that day. I stood outside the classroom for ten minutes, trying to persuade Tim that it was all going to be OK, that the stories we’d heard about ‘big school’ were exaggerated, even though I was scared too.

I did walk in ahead of Tim. Joel was sitting on a desk, already the centre of attention. When he looked up at me, it freaked me out. We’d never met, but there was such a strong recognition between us. As soon as I looked away, I felt embarrassed, as though I had no right to look at someone so special, never mind think we had a connection. I understood, without question, that throughout school, he and I were going to move in different worlds.

I trace my hand along his arm, sensing the power in his muscles, despite everything that’s happened to him. ‘Twit-twoo. I’m a wise owl!’

‘Not like that.’

‘You’re making it up, Joel. If you noticed me at all, it was because you knew I was the kind of girl you’d never talk to in case it damaged your street cred.’

He pulls a face. ‘Fair point. But it was my loss.’

I close my eyes and let myself imagine what it would have been like if he had climbed off that desk and come over to me and asked my name. If we’d been friends, first loves . . .

It’s so ridiculous that it makes me giggle.

‘Worth the wait,’ Joel says and when he reaches down to kiss my forehead, I think he might mean it.

Falling in love is not what I expected it to be. Yes, it’s intense and sexy and like being on a drug that makes you want everyone to be as happy as you are. Ecstasy without the risk of a seizure in the middle of a cornfield.

But love is also farcical: I have to creep out of the house as though I’m in a Carry On film, because I don’t want to hurt Tim’s feelings. Love is frustrating. I want to be spending all my time with Joel, touching him, leaning against his chest, listening to that magical heartbeat. Instead, I am meant to be revising for my A levels. Even when I force myself to come home, I can’t focus on my work because I am replaying our time together.