‘For some proper milkshakes,’ Dawn said. ‘Not the powdered muck Joanne sells. You’re not allergic to nuts, are you? Because Gino makes peanut-butter shakes to die for.’ After offering a Polo to Morgan, she popped one in her mouth.

‘I love peanut butter. And Daim Bars . . . They make good milkshakes too.’ Morgan spoke with a little too much enthusiasm, and she reminded herself to play it cool. But her mind was whirling with possibilities. Up until now, she’d thought her crushes on girls were just part of growing up. Perhaps this was why her online relationship with Taz had never progressed into anything more. She never felt the same excitement when talking to boys. Was Dawn aware of the effect she was having on her? Was she playing up to it? Another thought entered her mind that made her snatch her hand away.

‘What’s up?’ Dawn said, coming to a halt.

‘Are you legit?’ Morgan said. ‘Because I’ve had plenty of people take the piss and they’ve all come to regret it.’

It was true. Morgan was what her father called a ‘scrapper’. She had learned how to defend herself from an early age.

‘Why do you think that?’ Dawn’s eyes searched her face.

‘Because you barely know me.’ Morgan swallowed, the words stuck in her throat. ‘People like you aren’t nice to people like me.’

‘People like me? Whoa, back up.’ Dawn raised a hand in the air. ‘Because you’re right, we don’t know each other. If you did, you wouldn’t say that.’

But Morgan wouldn’t allow herself to believe it. ‘You can’t be short of friends. I mean . . . look at you. Why would you want to hang out with me?’

Dawn responded with a smile. ‘Because you’re cool. You came here from London, didn’t you? Your dad is a legend. And this isn’t about him. I mean, you’re the most interesting person I’ve met in Nighbrook. You’ve lived in Scotland, London, America, you’ve seen the world. I’ve never been outside this shitty little village.’

‘Really?’ Morgan said, eyebrows raised.

‘People here don’t travel outside Nighbrook,’ Dawn continued. ‘It’s like we live in this little bubble and we’re not allowed to leave.’ She tilted her head to one side. ‘I want to hear all about America. There’s so much I want to know.’

‘And that’s it?’ Morgan said, slightly deflated.

Dawn touched Morgan’s hair, her palm coasting against her cheek. It flushed beneath the warmth of her hand.

‘That . . .’ Dawn said, taking a step closer, ‘is definitely not it.’

As Morgan stared into Dawn’s eyes, Morgan felt her stomach liquify.

‘Are we good?’ Dawn asked. ‘Because I don’t want to have my milkshake alone.’

‘We’re good,’ Morgan replied, slipping her hand back into Dawn’s.