‘Where exactly were you going for sunset?’ I ask coolly.
He shifts slightly, resentment triggered. ‘Janiculum Hill. It’s like, twenty-five minutes uphill from here.’
‘Nice,’ I say. I walk towards the coffee table and rezip his backpack. He jumps at the sound. ‘Let’s go.’
His face muddles into deep-set confusion. ‘What?’
‘We’ve got like twenty minutes until the sun starts setting and we can walk fast!’ I say.
He shakes his head instantly. ‘You’ve been on three dates today. You must be exhausted – you even said you wanted—’
‘To be horizontal, I know.’ I finish his sentence briskly. ‘I can do that as I sit and admire the promised panoramic views of the city.’
I run over to him, backpack slung around my shoulder as I attempt to pull him off his bed and towards the door. But he stays fixed in place, like immovable stone.
‘You don’t have to do this. I know that you’re tired,’ he says.
I wave his negativity away with a breezy flick of my wrist, tugging even harder at him with my other hand.
‘I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for free wine and an allegedly incredible view. Now, come on! We are literally chasing the sun and the longer we stay here the more it wins!’
He shakes his head at me once more in disbelief, but I catch the smile threatening to creep up his mouth.
‘Are yousure?’ he asks.
‘As can be.’
Finally, his feet touch the floor and he gives in to me.
The journey takes less time than expected. I attribute it to Noah’s freakishly long legs and my determination to keep up with him. By the time we reach the top, the sun has only just started to dip, washing everything around us in a soft pink glow.
We manage to pounce on an empty bench just as someone gets up, much to the chagrin of the other seat-watchers around us. I feel their beady eyes bore into us, but I simply don’t care. We’re sitting, face out, at the most perfect view; nothing else remotely matters.
‘Cheers,’ Noah says, thrusting his plastic glass of wine my way.
I knock mine against it, watching as the liquid sloshes against the sides and catches the light. Our smiles meet, both tired and a little downtrodden but pushing through regardless because at least we’re together. The dimming rays paint streaks of light down Noah’s face, illuminating him in an almost godly glow.
‘What a day,’ Noah sighs, looking out at the view.
‘Tell me about it.’ I take another swig. ‘Good ending, though.’
I see him smile out of the corner of my eye and think about how much this trip has linked us for life. Every time he so much as motions to smile, I feel my spirits lift in time with his mouth. He takes another sip of his wine, followed by a deep breath as he closes his eyes tightly shut. When they reopen, they’re brighter, washing away his sadness as if it never existed at all. He turns towards me.
‘So, go on, then, talk me through the whole day.’
I shrug. ‘Three men, three dates. I’m kind of over it.’
He laughs softly, his eyes crinkling at the sides. ‘You can’t be over it. You’ve got what? Like, forty dates to go?’
‘Forty-seven.’ I grimace.
I slump back against the bench as I run through the last thirty-three dates in my head. All the small talk about my favourite colour, my career, my siblings, blends into one misshapen, beige ball. Then I think about Nigel. I think about how the universeplaced the perfect, most understanding person in front of me. And how Istillmanaged to mess it up, because I’ve fallen for the one person I absolutely can’t fall for. I throw my head back and take a deep breath, then mutter under my breath, ‘It’s all just so pointless.’
He has his own goals. His own mission that does not include me. He needs serious and I’m not serious. I’m forty-seven dates away from serious.
‘Okay, there is a point. Money,’ Noah says.
He sits up straighter, twisting his spine so he can meet my eye properly.
