Soul Beach

unfocused, undeveloped part of the beach. ‘ Triti ,’ he says, and there’s a question in his eyes.
    ‘Should we go to her?’ I ask.
    I can tell we’re both thinking that perhaps we should, but this feels like our moment.
    ‘You’re more help to her in your world than you are in hers,’ Danny tells me.
    I nod. ‘I’m working on it.’
    He smiles, as if he understands how tough it is for me. ‘I should let you go and do that.’
    ‘No,’ I say, but he’s already moving backwards.
    How do you say goodbye to the boy you’re falling for, but can never touch? Blowing a kiss, as I do with Meggie, seems too trivial.
    Danny answers my question. He mouths Goodnight, sweet dreams , and then raises his hand towards his heart. Like a promise.
    I do the same . . .
    I stare at the screen for more than a minute after the beach fades into the mist. Then I remember the text, and open up my phone:
    Don’t give up on Tim, Alice, he wants to tell you the truth, I’m sure of it. I won’t stop working on him till he does, trust me. Your friend, Ade.
    I stare at it. Something seems off about the tone, too intimate or too intrusive. But I can’t afford to alienate him, not if I’m to reach Tim and get the answers I need.
    So I text back Thanks , and then turn the phone off so I can focus on what’s just happened to me. Love, or something like it? Ever since my sister was murdered, happiness has seemed like something that only other people could hope to feel. I’ve felt like a spectator, watching a wild dance from the sidelines, unable to join in.
    But in the last few minutes, it’s as if someone has invited me back onto the floor.
    Danny is falling for me, and I am falling for him and nothing else seems important.

52
    ‘You’re different,’ Cara catches me outside the loos at break.
    ‘Am I? How?’
    Different? Different doesn’t begin to describe it. Everything has changed for me.
    ‘Well, for a start, I actually saw you smile in class, which hasn’t happened for years. And you keep humming.’
    ‘Do I?’ Everything in this world looks beautiful to me now, even though Danny can never join me here. Despite the distance between us, I hear love songs in my brain because somewhere , there’s one person who needs me more than anything, and I need him too. ‘Sorry. I know how irritating it is when Mum does it.’
    ‘Obviously, being your best friend and confidante, I’m sure you’d have told me if you’d found a bloke or something?’
    I feel myself blushing. ‘Me? I spend my whole life locked in my room listening to mopey music, according to you.’ I smile, to show I don’t mean it.
    ‘Aha. Yes.’ She grins ruefully. ‘But maybe you’ve found yourself an equally mopey boyfriend online, then?’
    ‘Could be.’
    ‘Get you, Little Miss Mystery.’ She looks at me closely. ‘Are you coming back to us, Alice? I don’t think I could stand getting my hopes up and then see you turning all bonkers again.’
    I wish I could tell her what she wants to hear: that we’ll be the way we were. But how can I, with everything I’ve seen and everything I know?
    ‘I’m a bit better, but don’t expect too much of me, Cara. It’s changed me. I’d be an even weirder person if it hadn’t . . .’ I look away.
    ‘Yeah.’
    She goes to hug me, and I hug her back, longing to be close to her again, but knowing that the very last thing my best friend needs is to know anything about my crazy, desperate new world.
    When we let go of each other, I feel sad; this is how we always were. ‘Enough about me, Cara. What’s the latest on Felipe?’
    And she begins to rattle off tales of high drama and crazy passion and hair extensions, and all I can think is that this shouldn’t be one-sided. We should be sharing our excitements and stories, like best friends do. But how can I?
    She pauses for breath, and I hold up my hand. ‘Sorry, I want to hear the rest, but I really do need the loo before the next lesson.’
    ‘I’ll come with you,’ she says, and picks up again with details of every text, and every rumour about her Argentinian boyfriend, shouting so I can hear her over flushing toilets and running water.
    When I come out, I check myself in the speckled mirror in the loos, and it’s the first time I’ve seen myself properly in weeks.
    Danny fell for that? The under plucked eyebrows and the ugly-bug curls and the skin that looks like it’s been bleached white by so many hours in front of a screen.
    He’s not