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19
AVERY
Bryn doesn't call.
A small, deluded part of me expected him to contact me, but what sense would it make for him to date an ordinary girl who refused him sex. I mope longer than acceptable, until, a week later, I’m irritated with myself and draw a line under the episode. Whatever agenda Bryn had for our date the other night was successful, otherwise he'd ask for more.
But why kiss me?
Say those things?
The guy is messed up.
Sitting in pub where I often meet my friends after class, I twist my glass of coke around on the table. Ben approaches and dumps his messenger bag on the seat next to me.
“Evening, Avery.” He scoots across the seat next to me with his pint.
“Hey, hipster dude.”
Ben scowls and I stroke my face to indicate his thickening brown beard.
“Beards are sexy. Girls love them,” he says.
“Really? How's that working out for you?” I bite back a smile. “I must have missed the parade of girls heading to your bedroom.”
Ben shrugs and drinks. “How about you? Saw you on Insta with a rock star. Was that for real?”
“No. He's a friend. I was doing him a favour.” I clamp my mouth closed. A week since the party and Bryn was right; my fame lasted five minutes. One picture of us on social media, eclipsed by a scandal between a footballer and his best friend's wife.
“A friend? That’s weird.”
My thoughts exactly.
“Have you applied for your training next year yet?” asks Ben.
“Not yet. I can't decide whether to stay in London or move back to Wales.”
“I thought you didn't want to go back to Wales?”
I shrug. “I know, but I could train there. Maybe try and get a place training in my old school.”
Ben rubs his beard. “Hmm. No way am I going back to Gloucester.”
My doubt over being able to follow through and become a teacher won't leave. It was sweet of Bryn to say the things he did, but I'm a long way off being a confident woman about town. At least I chose to be a primary teacher; high school teaching would be a nightmare. Being taller than my pupils is an advantage, although I don't know what they feed kids these days because some primary kids are the same height as me.
“You have to make the decision soon, Avery.”
“Yeah, I know.” I lean back and place down my drink.
“Or if you're not ready, take a year out.”
“And do what?”
“Travel.”
“I don't think so.” Shy, impractical, and badly co-ordinated me travelling? Sure.
He yawns. “Why did I enrol in late classes?”
