Page 88

Ugh, eating. Nerves twisting, Evie lobbed her lunch into the nearest bin.

“Or at least Fi and I have.” Sunita tilted her head, concern lowering her voice. “You sure he’s coming?”

And there it was, the unspeakable question of the hour—and the thirty minutes before that.

“Definitely.” Evie forced a smile as she clung to her last slippery wisps of hope. She tugged her denim jacket closed over her white top, a recent online purchase. With its broderie anglaise embroidery and sweetheart neckline, it was trendy yet flattering, and hopefully something Nick would like.

“I’d text Rupert to see if he’s heard from him, but his phone’s off while he’s showing his gran’s baby bull,” said Fiona, dipping her strawberry sucker into a packet of lemon-flavored powder.

“It’s okay, Fi. He’ll be here,” said Evie. I hope.

“I bet he slept through his alarm.” The tail of Fiona’s oversized plaid shirt flapped in the wind. “Rupert said he was up late reading a script.”

Evie blinked. “Really?”

“Nikolai Balfour”—Sunita tsked—“too good for the County Show.”

Mid-candy dip, Fiona subtly elbowed Sunita. “I thought you were going to play nice,” she scolded. “And apologize.”

“I will—if he shows. And for our sake, I hope he does. My ears can’t take any more.”

“Any more what?” Evie halted beside the chair swing ride for little kids, forcing her friends to stop, too.

“You beating yourself up,” said Sunita. “If Nick doesn’t show, it’s not because of what you wore or how you kissed or any of the other things you keep moaning about.”

Due to Stuart dumping her twenty-four hours after they’d slept together, Evie’s fears of sexual inadequacy were looming over her like a pesky gray cloud. For twelve months (and counting), she had agonized over every little thing she did (and didn’t) do with Stu, ranging from Should I have given him more blow jobs? to Is my body ugly? The negative thoughts swirled and taunted, and now they risked tarnishing Thursday’s kiss with Nick.

“But what if I gave him too much tongue?” she asked.

“Would you STOP!” demanded Sunita. “There’s no such thing. Too much saliva, yes. Tongue, no.”

“You say that, but he barely said goodbye.” Unease fluttered through her. “He couldn’t leap off the trampoline fast enough.”

“Well, would you hang around if his parents caught you with your hand up his shirt?” asked Fiona.

Sunita smirked. “Shame Evie’s wasn’t down his pants.”

“Sun!” Evie playfully swatted her. “Nick hopped the fence before they got out of the car. Then Mum gave me a lecture about boundaries and consent, and how to be safe the first time you have sex.”

“Oh, Mrs. Sutherland!” Fiona laughed.

“Yesterday she left a box of condoms in my room.”

“That horse has left the barn and is halfway across South Ronaldsay!” said Sunita.

“Mum would freak if she knew.”

“But what does she expect? You’re seventeen.” Fiona dunked her sucker again. “Seriously, she never suspected you and Stu?”

“If she did, she’s never said,” Evie mused. “I think she knew I wasn’t really into him. She probably thought I’d wait.” Her attention strayed to the Outrage ride, a waltzer blaring old hits by Madonna.

“Oh, I meant to tell you!” Sunita leaned in. “Puggie said Rebecca got in shit for putting cannabis in her home bakes.”

“Which Becca?” asked Evie. “Petrol station or octopush?”

“Octopush,” said Sunita. “At her party. You know, the one you went to.”

Shit! Evie reeled. Nick ate her cupcakes!