“What do you mean?”

“I—well, I don’t have many friends. I mean, I don’t have a big friend group, or whatever. Most of my friends from Primary School went to other schools and stuff…But I hang out with Niamh Maguire and Lauren Dempsey, a lot. In school.”

Niamh and Lauren weren’t what anyone would consider well known, but after a brief pause something in Connie’s mind clicked. “Jesus, even the mention of their names nearly puts me to sleep. No wonder you read the Telephone Book for fun. Do you have a boyfriend?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Why not? You’re pretty enough.”

My face flushed a deeper shade of red. I scanned her over once more for some sign of mockery. “I don’t—I’m not pretty.”

“I never said you were pretty, Ryan,” she teased, rolling her eyes. “I said you were pretty enough. There’s a difference.”

“Oh. Right. Well. No, anyway. I don’t. Like I said, not many friends.”

“Hmm. I still don’t want to tell you.”

“Why don’t you think of it as payment for all the chocolate I gave you this year?”

She pursed her cherry-red lips. “That’s not fair.”

“It definitely is. Do you have any idea how much that costs me?”

Connie made a show of pondering it for a moment. “Well, if you really must know…my favorite book of all time is Peter Pan, alright?”

“Alright,” I shrugged. I tapped my fingers along the desk. “I’ve never read it.”

“You’ve never read it?”

“Nope. Never even seen the movie.”

“You read a book the size of an encyclopedia for fun but you’ve never read Peter Pan?”

“Yeah. Why’s it your favorite, then?”

“My dad used to read it to me every night when I was younger. Over and over. Knew the whole thing almost off by heart.” She smiled to herself before shaking her head. “You must love this class. Reading all these stupid books.”

“I do. It’s my favorite. This and History.”

“Boring. I’ll never understand why History is such a big deal when they’re all dead anyway. Mine’s PE, obviously. Except when we’ve to do gymnastics.”

“Jesus, I hate PE.” I wrinkled my nose. “Sport’s never really been my thing. My grandparents pushed me into playing Gaelic when I was younger and I lasted maybe a week before the coach politely asked them to never bring me back.”

“Surely you weren’t that bad.”

“Oh, I was. I spent most of my time on the pitch talking to the girl I was meant to be marking about the founding and origins of the GAA. I’m almost certain she was the one who put in a complaint to the coach because shockingly enough, most seven—year olds aren’t too fussed about things that happened back in 1884.”

Her white teeth gleamed when she laughed. If she continued to laugh at me, I was sure I would wind up in the back of an Ambulance before the day was out. “Well. If I had been her, I wouldn’t have complained about you. I’m sure I would have been absolutely riveted.”