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I put my hand on her arm to stop her. “Ronan can go, but not you,” I say, my words adamant.

Her eyes blink several times as she pulls her arm from my grip. “I’ll tell the principal about this,” she whispers, a weak threat.

“Go ahead. You’re still not leaving.”

Ronan coughs now, stuffing his things into his bag. “I, uh, I have to go get some stuff from my locker,” he says, giving Lana an apologetic look before scurrying away. Little coward.

“Ronan,” Lana hisses, but he doesn’t turn back

I let out a soft chuckle and pick the sandwich back up. “Seems like your knight in not so shining armour has fled,” I tell her with satisfaction.

She slumps back against the tree. “What do you want?”

“To have lunch together. It’s a beautiful day.” I gesture about the space.

“Mm-hmm.” She picks up the other sandwich and takes a bite, resigned to my presence now. We eat in quiet for a minute or two. She doesn’t look at me, but I’m staring at her like a lunatic, remembering my little self-love sesh last night in which she reserved the starring role. She’s taken her woolly uniform jumper off, wearing only the thin shirt beneath, and I can make out the edge of her bra.

“You were very rude to your mum yesterday at dinner,” she says, breaking the quiet. “She was upset after you left.”

Her words give me pause, but I pretend to ignore them by saying, “I can see down your shirt, you know.” I can’t see nearly enough, but that’s beside the point. She tugs the edges together and buttons it up, letting out a sigh.

I shift closer and give her a slow smile.

“If Sasha wasn’t gone to the dentist today, you wouldn’t even be talking to me,” she says.

“What do you mean? Of course I would be.”

“You know she’d give you an earful if she caught you stealing my lunch. You do realise you’re being such a bully stereotype right now, don’t you?”

I place my hand above my heart. “I’m not a bully. I’m sharing lunch with my friend.”

“You’re not my friend. You haven’t spoken to me in forever. What happened, are you bored or something?”

I’m never bored around you, I feel like saying, but I keep it locked inside. At this very moment some girls walk by, glancing over at me, whispering to each other and then giggling. The most confident of the bunch calls over, “Hey, Rob, are you going to the over-16s disco this weekend?”

I feel Lana’s attention on me, like she actually cares what my answer will be. Unable to help myself, I call back, “Yeah, don’t wear any knickers, and I might save you a dance.”

Wouldn’t you know, the girl actually preens and grins at that sleazy line.

“I’ll think about it,” she calls back, winking and then sauntering away.

When I turn back to Lana, I see her staring at the sandwich in her hand, focused intently on not looking at me.

“I suppose you’re too young to go,” I say, nudging her with my arm.

She nods. “Sasha’s going with some of the girls from her class. Discos aren’t really my thing anyway.”

“I could get you in,” I tell her in a considering voice.

“I don’t doubt that. But I wouldn’t want to go even if I was old enough.”

“Oh, are you too good for such base activities as discos?” I ask.

She is too good, way too good. Girls turn into total sluts at these things, wearing tiny skirts and drinking from Coke bottles laced with vodka. They also have competitions to see how many boys they can get with in one night.

“That’s not what I meant,” she protests.

“Sure it wasn’t,” I say sarcastically, finishing off the sandwich. “What else have you got in here?” I rummage through her lunchbox, pulling out a carton of juice and an apple. I take the liberty of punching a hole through the top of the juice with the straw and take a long slug. “Ah, refreshing. Here you go.”

I hand her the carton and she pulls out the straw, setting it down on the grass, before sipping directly from the hole.

I laugh. “I’m not diseased.”

Her eyes travel in the direction of the girls who just passed by. “I definitely don’t know that.”

“My, oh my, did you just infer that some slutty girl gave me an STD?”

“No,” she says, then smiles. “I implied it.”

I put on an offended expression. “Don’t tease me. You know I’m shit at English.”

Her smile falters. “That’s not…that’s not what I meant.” She shakes her head, knowing she’s repeating herself.

“Sure it’s not. There’s a cruel soul behind those innocent eyes. I knew it all along,” I tease.

She purses her lips and drinks some more of her juice. “You should really tell the principal about Mr. Brennan. He can’t be allowed to treat students the way he does. I see him being mean to Ronan all the time. He’s horrible.”

“There’s no point. The man’s worked here for like a hundred years. It’s not like they’re going to sack him. And anyway, it’s not like I don’t deserve the shit he gives me. I’m a prick. You know that better than most people.” My words come out unexpectedly honest, full of the self-hate that I usually hide behind exaggerated confidence.

Lana’s eyes get real big, in the way that always manages to entrance me. Her voice is barely audible when she says, “I don’t get how you can know you behave cruelly, yet you do nothing to try and change it.”

Her meaning hits me, but I don’t know how to respond. Without even trying she’s managed to burrow right under my skin and pull out all the mess that’s inside. I’ve never felt so exposed. This is why I need to stay away from her. This whole encounter started with me forcing my company on her, with me being the one in control, and with only a few softly spoken words she’s turned the whole thing around on me. She doesn’t even know it, but she might as well be clutching my beating heart in her gentle hands.

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