I give her a bemused look as I swing my backpack over my shoulder and pick up my suitcase. God, my back’s stiff after sitting on a train for that long. I think it seized up somewhere between Reading and Exeter. “Nice to see you too, Kath.”
She scowls, yanking the suitcase from me. “Fine. Hello, Sam. How are you? How was the journey? Did you sleep well last night?” Her voice is mockingly sweet as we head to the car.
“Ummm…” Luckily I’m saved by Kath’s Nan, who fills the drive with friendly chatter.
“What do you want to tell me?” I ask Kath as we finish unpacking my bag at the bungalow. She just gives me another pained expression.
“Not here.” She grabs two shopping bags and drags me out of the house, marching down the street with single-minded purpose.
“What is it?” I ask again.
Kath glances cautiously from side to side. I’m not exactly sure why she seems to think any of the people walking around Sidmouth would beinterested in our conversation. Once she decides the coast is clear, she grabs my arm and pulls me closer, whispering, “Isawtomkissingsomeone!”
“What?” I ask her, trying to decode the garbled sentence.
She takes a breath. “I saw Tom kissing someone,” she repeats. So I did hear it right the first time.
“OK. Um, cool.” I’m not quite sure what else to say. Why is she telling me this? I don’t know what I’m meant to do with the information. Is this what’s been making her act weirdly for the last twenty minutes?
“No, Sam. Not cool.Gross!” she whisper-shouts even though there’s literally no one else on the street. “I thought he liked Sophie. You know, the girl he’s on the cross-country team with. But anyway, he was at this party and my nan sent me round to go and get him as he wasn’t answering his phone. So I decided to walk along the beach to get there and they were literally snogging on the beach.”
“Are you sure?” I say doubtfully.
“I’m sure,” she shudders. “Ugh, I can’t believe I sawmy brotherkiss someone! It’s burnt into my eyes.”
We walk in silence for a few moments. Something about it makes me realise we’re not kids anymore. Not really. We’re not eleven-year-olds with grazed knees and juice boxes. Kath doesn’tlookeleven. She’s gone from all elbows and angles to somehow actually suiting her height. She’s long-limbed and starting to get curves and—Stop it, brain.
When she does another full-body shudder I can’t stop myself from laughing.
“Tom’s seventeen. It’s not that weird,” I tell her.
“Please stop talking,” she says to me.
“You snogged Bobbie last year,” I counter. “Kissing isn’t that weird.”
“Felt like a dead slug in my mouth.” She winces.
“You probably did it wrong.”
She elbows me. “You kissed Piri.”
“It didn’t feel like a slug.”
That night is seared in my memory. Ben’s fourteenth birthday and that game of spin the bottle, the curse of teenage milestones. In all honesty, I’m surprised neither of us had ever kissed anyone before. Almost all our friends have, and it was a source of constant teasing. I really thought that bottle might land on me when it was Kath’s turn. But it landed on Bobbie Reynolds.
I’ve never liked him anyway. He has a resting smug face. And he looked just a bit too pleased that the bottle landed on him. Stupid Bobbie with his stupid hair and excessive use of gel, or mousse, or whatever it’s called.
When we get back from the shops, Tom’s at home. He greets me with a wave and Kath immediately goes bright pink. She buries her face in the fridge, stacking blocks of butter with intense concentration.
“What’s on the timetable then?” I ask as we put away the last of the food. “I hope there are highlighters again this year?”
“Of course there are highlighters,” Tom says. “And this is what? Version four? Isn’t that right, Kath? And she’s even scheduled in study time for everyone. Though I have no idea why. It’s the summer holidays.”
“I just wanted to make sure we get to do everything we want to do,” she tells me. “Give me a second.” She disappears before returning with her A4 masterpiece. I look it over, checking out the swimming times and two gym sessions that I had requested.
“Do you want to come to the gym with me?” I ask Tom, who nods. “It says walk this afternoon.” I check it again. “Shall I make the packed lunch?”
“Already done,” Kath chirps.
