AllFreeNovel
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I pinch Chase’s arm. ‘You’re it.’ I don’t wait to see if he follows as I whirl and race down the field, towards the beach and the ice cream van I saw on the way in.
Halfway down I dare a glance behind me and he’s there, no more than three feet away. I giggle breathlessly and put on a burst of speed. But we’re no longer playing tag; as he keeps pace beside me, he’s racing me.
My lungs and my arms and my legs burn, but I push harder, faster, until I can’t stop myself at all. I’m thankful the road is cordoned off because I streak straight across it and onto the beach and right into the shallows of the sea. Chase tackles me, and we go down in gasps and pants and breathless laughs as we topple into the water.
He jabs me in my side. ‘My phone,’ I say around my giggle.
He stares at me as he helps me stand. ‘Are you ticklish?’
I glare at him, trying not to glance at the water making his button-down cling to his stomach, the droplets dotting his skin. He’s gone headfirst into the sea, and the front of his hair drips it over his face.
‘No,’ I say as I make my way onto the sand.
He gives me a slow smile. ‘Liar.’ He lunges for me, and I’m not fast enough. I can’t control my laughter as he tickles my sides, my stomach, my neck—
‘Last one to the ice cream van smells like shit,’ I say, and I manage to break free, but he doesn’t head for the van. He chases me as I bolt for it, and I skid to a halt before it as he catches up to me.
I bend forward with my hands on my knees as I catch my breath. ‘You smell…like shit,’ I say.
Chase snorts. ‘Coming from the woman who let one rip in English.’
‘If I recall correctly, only you know the truth. The entire class believe you farted when you took the fall for me. And it smelled proper dutty as well—‘
‘I’m the one driving, remember?’
‘I’ll clamber into the boot when you’re not looking.’
‘Need the key to unlock it.’
‘Well… then I’ll hide in the back.’
‘You could—only you’d need to get in the car first. Do youknowhow sneaking works?’
I sigh. ‘I’ll bat my lashes at some old man and ask him to give me a ride.’
‘You’ll need to be more specific. He might take advantage.’
I elbow his ribs, and he chuckles. ‘I hope a seagull shits on your icecream.’
‘I hope you get a wet dressing gown sleeve.’
‘I hope you step in something and get a wet sock.’
‘I hope your pillow is warm on both sides.’
‘I hope you forget to turn the light off only after you’re in bed.’
‘I hope you get a packet of bourbon biscuits without the cream in the middle.’
I grimace. ‘Too far. That’s actually disgusting.’
He bursts out laughing. The queue moves forward, and we saddle up to the small window in the van, greeted by a weathered old man who looks like he’s two minutes away from becoming a corpse.
Chase gets two cones of coffee ice cream, and I opt for biscoff and mint chocolate chip.
‘Why do that to yourself?’ I ask him as we stride along the sand.
‘There’s a lot of things I do to myself—‘
