One Perfect Summer

about him now. Not tonight. Not ever. He couldn’t even be bothered to try to track me down. Damn him.
    Yes, I’m still angry, although my anger is waning. I think I might be moving onto acceptance, and then . . .
    The return to the willingness to love.
    I unwittingly snort with laughter as I recall Emily reading that out. ‘What are you giggling about?’ Matthew asks from beside me.
    ‘Nothing,’ I reply chirpily.
    Suddenly it’s Lukas’s turn again and there is only one stripe left: the one that he set up earlier. It’s an easy shot, and then he’s onto the black ball. It’s right up against the edge and it’s practically impossible to pot from this angle. He gives it a good go, though, hopefully making my job next time slightly easier.
    Matthew pots the rest of the spots, and it looks like he’ll pot the black, but he misses it completely.
    ‘Argh!’ He buries his head in his hands. Harry theatrically screams ‘No!’ and Lukas with a smile hands over the cue to me. I line it up and barely feel any pressure, thanks to the relaxing qualities of my good friend Smirnoff. I pot the black and the game is ours.
    Harry pretends to sob over the table. Then he looks up and brightly says: ‘Another game?’
    ‘Alice?’ Lukas asks me.
    ‘Why not?’ I reply with a smile, holding up my empty glass. ‘I might need another one of these, though . . .’
    By the time Lukas and I win three out of five games, I’m feeling extremely tipsy. He’s been drinking double whiskies, and must be a bit drunk by now, although you’d hardly know it.
    ‘We’re going to sit this one out,’ he firmly tells a disappointed Harry and Matthew, before leading me to a sofa underneath the window. He slumps down onto it, and it’s the least composed thing I’ve ever seen him do, so I figure I’m probably right about the drink thing. I sit down next to him and he wraps his arm around my neck and sighs. He’s been very tactile tonight, and it’s nice because we haven’t even kissed. In my insecure moments, I’ve wondered if he just likes me as a friend. I turn to look at him. He’s very close and he meets my gaze with those intensely blue eyes of his. We stare at each other for what feels like a long time, so much so that my heart starts to cartwheel.
    ‘Do you want to come back to mine?’ he asks quietly.
    ‘A coffee might be a good idea,’ I reply, not wanting to appear overly keen. I still feel a little bruised after the rooftop incident.
    He nods and we stand up. ‘See you later, guys,’ he calls at Harry and Matthew as we pass.
    ‘You’re not leaving!’ Harry exclaims.
    ‘Bye,’ Matthew replies with a half wave.
    ‘See you in the morning,’ Lukas tells Harry.
    ‘Okay,’ he says sorrowfully. ‘Bye, beautiful Alice!’
    I giggle and follow Lukas out.

 
    ‘Where do you live?’ I ask Lukas as we hurry towards the main gate. He must be absolutely freezing.
    ‘Just across the road.’
    ‘Why didn’t you bring a coat?’ I ask with astonishment.
    ‘I really am just across the road.’ He glances down at me.
    We pass through the gate and walk across the road to the wooden door I once saw him go into. He pushes it open and leads me right, up some stairs, then right again at the top. He nods at the small terraced houses in front of us.
    ‘This is home.’
    ‘No way.’
    He unlocks the door and pushes it open for me, then goes to the third door we come to, unlocking that too.
    He lives in a student bedsit above a bookshop on Trinity Street. His room is a lot larger than the one I had in Nightingale Hall in my first year, and there’s a single bed, a desk and a couple of comfy chairs in front of a gas fire. Out of the windows I can see Great Gate opposite.
    ‘I thought I lived centrally!’ I exclaim.
    ‘It’s too noisy here,’ he brushes me off, bending down to turn on the fire.
    ‘It’s amazing!’
    ‘Your house is nicer.’
    That’s the first complimentary thing he’s said about Jessie’s house, which surprises me because it is pretty damn incredible.
    ‘Come on, then,’ I say, looking around. ‘Where do you keep it?’
    ‘What?’ he asks with a frown, standing back up again.
    ‘It’s got to be here somewhere.’ I go to his wardrobe and pull open the doors. His clothes are neatly lined up in front of me and the smell of his aftershave wafts out. ‘Nope.’ I open the cupboard to my left. ‘Where is this cold compress that you keep?’
    He laughs and shakes his head.
    ‘Aha!’ I