She’d found Paul in the library, engrossed in his work, sitting at a table near the librarian’s desk. She was in the same classes as Paul for most subjects except French. She was in the second tier for that, the only blip on her tier-one status. She didn’t care though – she hated French. All the words seemed to run together making it difficult to understand anything. Not even the school trip to Calais in the first year of senior school had warmed her to the subject. She knew Paul was one of the few students in the top tier across the board and she was secretly impressed, although she knew he got grief for it.

Pausing behind a shelf of science books, she had a few moments to watch him unseen. His strawberry blonde hair was cut close at the back and longer on top, occasionally obstructing his view of his work and he brushed it aside almost constantly. His glasses were too big for his face and his pale, slightly acned skin was saved by the bluest eyes Claire had ever seen.

He’d looked up then and she thought she saw a glimpse of fear. It was quickly replaced by curiosity when he saw it was her. As she watched the librarian leave her desk and begin returning books to their shelves, Claire approached. She didn’t ask if she could join him, she simply sat opposite him and it was this assumption that she could see had made him nervous. It was the way he glanced over her shoulder to see if there was anyone else behind her, but Paul needn’t have worried, the library was empty. It was the reason why she’d chosen to ask him out during the lunch break. Claire decided to get it over with as quickly as possible.

‘So, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the cinema with me on Friday night? A few of us are going…’

They weren’t but having discussed it endlessly with Anne the night before on the phone, Claire thought it might make him more comfortable if it was a casual invitation. She also would have made it sooner than Friday, but she knew her mother would start asking questions if she went out on a school night.

Claire waited for a response but instead he just stared at her. She decided to continue.

‘I’m not sure what’s playing yet, but I can let you know. It usually starts at seven thirty.’

Still no response. She watched his eyes flicker to the left and right. Claire was starting to get annoyed. No wonder the lads gave him a hard time – he couldn’t even answer a simple question.

‘So…?’ prompted Claire.

‘Errr, yes, sure,’ replied Paul. As he answered, he picked up his pen and began flicking it between his fingers.

‘Great!’ said Claire, relieved. ‘Shall I meet you outside the cinema at quarter past seven?’