‘Hello,’ replied Paul. He grinned, his relief that she had turned up evident and Claire felt her stomach contract with guilt and something else she couldn’t identify. She met his eyes briefly, the blaze of blue at odds with the black rock T-shirt, before she saw him glance away looking over her shoulder at her friends.

‘Yeah, sorry about that,’ said Claire with a shrug.

‘Shall we go in?’ he asked, clearly as keen to escape them as she was. They climbed the stairs and queued without speaking, listening to the loud screeches of female laughter echoing in the stairwell behind them, both silently urging the cashier to hurry up. When it was their turn, Paul waved away Claire’s purse as he paid for both of them and asked her if she wanted any popcorn. She said no but he bought her some anyway.

Why did he have to be so nice?

Claire felt herself relax a little as they entered the theatre. It was dark and quiet, a cave where she could imagine this was a proper first date and not some cruel challenge. They would sit next to each other in the red velvet seats, talking about music and school while waiting for the film to start. Every so often their hands would touch as they shared the box of popcorn and then the film would start and Paul would gently take her hand in his and she wouldn’t sweat at all.

‘Claaaaaaaire! Mwah, mwah!’

The heckle interrupted her daydream, the catcall altering her name to sound ugly and harsh. She resisted the urge to look around and instead sneaked a glance at Paul, his face staring intently at the screen.

*

Claire discreetly looked at her watch. The last hour and a half had been horrid. She hadn’t been able to concentrate on the film at all, distracted by the whispers and giggles of the girls sat a few rows behind her. Now, thank God, the film was almost over. But if she didn’t kiss him soon, she would miss her chance. How on earth was she going to do this?

She shifted in her seat using her hands on the arms of the chair to lift herself. As she moved, he glanced over at her, moving his own arm to make way for hers. She smiled at him encouragingly and hoped he would take her hand. He didn’t. She had no choice – she would have to make the first move. Staring at the screen, she wiped her damp palm on her jeans before tentatively reaching over, praying he wouldn’t reject her. As her fingers clasped around his, she sensed him looking at her in surprise, but he didn’t shrug her off and she felt his own hand close around hers.