Read A Kiss in the Dark for Free Online Page A

someone playing a schoolgirl in a play. The first day of secondary school when I came down for breakfast decked out in my new clothes, Mum clapped her hands together and said, ‘Look at my baby girl, all grown up and off to big school!’ Dad smiled indulgently. Jamie laughed for five minutes straight. I didn’t even mind; I laughed right along with him.
    There was a strict no-phones policy at school, so I didn’t even have texts from Kate to get me through the horrors of Monday. I tried to convince myself that none of this mattered – the teachers droning on, the girls ignoring me, the boredom. This wasn’t my
real
life. My real life was skating and music and … Kate?
    I spent most of the morning thinking about Saturday, trying not to cringe at the moments I’dmade a right twat of myself. There weren’t too many, but that didn’t stop me going over them in my head, again and again, trying to work out just how lame Kate thought I was. When I’d had enough of beating myself up about things I focused on the good stuff. The way she laughed when I was trying to be funny, the way she looked at me all intense when we were talking about something serious, her shy smile when she thought she’d said something outrageous. These thoughts were enough to get me through double Maths before lunch.
    I always brought a packed lunch with me. Mum used to make it for me but she gave up a couple of years ago. She usually made fancy stuff like quinoa salad and Moroccan wraps but I was happy with ham sandwiches (white bread, a tiny bit of mustard), an apple and a banana. The way I saw it, there was no point having anything better. School was a depressing place to be and I hated the thought of it tainting any nice food Mum made for me. Ham sandwiches were inherently disappointing (to me at least), so they were the perfect lunch for schooldays. I never tried to explain all this to Mum because she wouldn’t have understood.
    I usually ate my lunch on some steps near the staff room. No one else hung around there, obviously. It was getting way too cold to sit out there though; my hands were numb by the time I’d finished my sandwich. Iwas just getting started on my apple (I always had the banana last – always) when I heard voices. They were getting closer and I was pissed off that someone had dared to invade my space. Two girls came round the corner, leaning against each other to hold themselves up, laughing and screeching. Anyone else and it would have been OK. Anyone else in a school of eight hundred pupils. But no. It had to be
her
. Heather Harris.
    Heather Harris with her stupid messy dyed red hair and her eyeliner and her pierced nose (totally against school rules but no one ever challenged her on it).
    Heather Harris, who somehow managed to make the school uniform look halfway decent. Like it had been custom-made to fit her just right.
    Heather Harris, who’d tried to kiss me last week. And succeeded.

chapter eight
    Heather Harris was this year’s New Girl. She’d arrived after the start of term and was specially introduced by the headmistress in assembly. Mrs Goldberg made Heather stand up in front of everyone. I would have died of embarrassment but Heather stood there like she didn’t give a toss that the entire school was staring at her. She looked like she was waiting for a bus and so not impressed that it was late. Whenever I saw her in the corridor after that, she usually had that same expression on her face. I couldn’t blame her: school was unimpressive in every way.
    For the first week or so Heather was by herself every time I saw her. It even crossed my mind that maybe I should talk to her. She looked different from the rest of them – she didn’t seem to be another clone of Marcy Davies for one thing. She looked like she might have something interesting to say for herself.Of course, I didn’t end up approaching her, because that’s not the kind of thing I would ever do.
    A few weeks before I met Kate, Heather