Chapter 8

{c}”I think this is the part where you kiss me.”

“What was all that ‘lezza’ crap that Nugent was spouting last night?” Bobby asked. He and Will were in the common room playing pool. Ray Turner was sitting close by watching and munching on a chocolate bar.

“It’s because she turned him down,” Ray said between mouthfuls.

“How the fuck do you know?” said Will.

“He was bragging about it the other day. He reckons the only reason any girl would turn him down is because she’s a lesbian.”

Will huffed. “And it’s got nothing to do with him being uncultured and thick as pig-shit, not to mention misogynistic, rude, callous and just a downright nasty piece of work.”

“You really don’t like him, do you?” said Bobby. “What went on between you two?”

“I told you. We fell out. We disagreed about a few things.”

“What things?”

“Just things.”

“It makes sense,” said Ray.

“What does?” said Will.

“Amy being a lesbian.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Well, think about it. How many boyfriends has she ever had? None that I can remember. And it would explain why she keeps turning me down.”

“She keeps turning you down because you’re fat and ugly,” said Bobby.

“Ha Ha,” said Ray. “You both know I’m right.”

“Amy should have let me smack him,” Will said. “He’s had it coming. It would have shut him up.”

“It would have landed you with a bloody nose,” said Bobby. “Nugent’s pretty handy in a ruck. Remember the mess he made of James Stockwell?”

“Yeah. I suppose you’re right.”

“There is one way to prove she’s not a lesbian,” Bobby said.

“What’s that?” asked Ray.

“Will needs to ask her out.”

Will shook his head. “I told you before. I can’t. She’s a mate. It’ll make things too awkward.”

“Bullshit,” said Bobby. “She’s as hot for you as you are for her. And you know it.”

“She is?”

“Of course she is. It’s bloody obvious, mate. Have you seen the way she looks at you?”

Will shrugged. “I’m not convinced.”

“Yeah, well,” said Bobby. “Like I said, there’s only one way to know. And if you had any balls, you’d do it.”

During the last period of the day, Will, Julie, Lizzie and Amy sat in the library and worked on an essay for their English class. As usual, Will and Amy had written far more than either of the other two by the time the bell rang to signal the end of the school day. Julie quickly packed her things away and hurried off to meet Bobby, who’d had a maths class.

“Are you two coming?” Lizzie asked as she packed her books into her bag. Amy and Will were both still writing.

“I’m staying,” said Will. “I’m nearly done with the first draft. I’d like to finish it.”

“Okay. Are you doing anything tonight?”

“I don’t know yet. Give me a shout if you’ve got any plans.”

“Yeah, okay. What about you, Amy? Coming?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m nearly finished too. It’s probably not as good as William’s, but...”

“Fine. I’ll walk home by myself then.” She faked indignation then giggled. “I’ll call you later and see what’s what.”

She left Amy and Will alone as they kept writing. Will put his pen down and stretched. Their favourite table was by a window which most pupils had to pass on their way home, so there was a lot of bustle and noise at the end of the day. Whenever he stayed late, Will always found it hard to concentrate for these first few minutes after the bell rang.

“Fancy a drink?” he said. “I’m going to the vending machine for a Coke.”