Chapter Twenty-One Homework and Headshots

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE HOMEWORK AND HEADSHOTS

The next few weeks passed by in a blur of classes, endless assignments, nightly phone calls about the upcoming Masquerade Ball, and meetings back at Evelina , where I learnt the names of every Marino in existence and watched as the Falcone boys disappeared at random times of the day and came back in the dead of night. They were in the city, scoping out Donata’s usual haunts, collecting information, turning Marino allies into snitches, dispatching those that couldn’t be persuaded. The house was busier than an airport at Christmastime. Donata and her remaining children, Marco and Zola (Franco, I learnt, was still in prison) had come back for Libero’s funeral – the most heavily guarded procession in Chicago’s history.

My father was still on the run, but I hadn’t heard so much as a peep from him. The police were patrolling Cedar Hill, on the lookout, following fruitless tips and making nuisances of themselves. I almost felt bad for them. It wasn’t hard to guess where my father was – at least if you knew what I knew. It wasn’t hard to guess what he was planning, but I couldn’t figure out what the hell I was going to do when I came face-to-face with him again. I wasn’t sure he truly wanted to protect me by sending me away to Colorado, but I knew he wouldn’t harm me, not deliberately. But if he was with Jack when we tracked him down, then we were going to have a problem.

The anniversary of Evelina’s disappearance passed and Felice sank back into his usual cartoon-villain self. I found it harder to be around him, knowing what he was capable of, and seeing how close he had come to actually doing it. He had left a ring of bruises around my neck, and I knew if I ever found myself alone with him away from Evelina , it might be the last thing I ever did. He could never know what my father had done to his wife, or I’d be dead for certain.

Luca spent all his time with Valentino, painstakingly planning and dispatching Falcones to far-off places in the state. For now, I had one duty and one duty only: go to school, stay in school. In the afternoons, I sat beneath the oil painting of Evelina Falcone in the library and forced myself to complete assignments I didn’t care about. As time wore on, Evelina’s eyes seemed to grow deeper, the sadness behind them rising to meet me like a terrible wave. Her face haunted my dreams, her lips twisting as she whispered to me in the night, I see you, Sophie Marino. I see your fate.

I knew Luca was against my role in the family’s violence, but he knew, too, that when the time came to face the Marino family in earnest, he wouldn’t be able to keep me away. I still had to prove myself. It was the only thing I cared about, the only thing I spent my nights thinking about. I was not going to be afraid. I was not going to hesitate. I was not going to fail again.

I spent the weeks getting myself ready mentally, honing my shot, preparing to face my uncle and Donata again, and hoping against hope that my father would be caught and hauled back to prison before then. At school I was a different Sophie – upbeat, engaged, innocent. The mask slipped on so easily, sometimes it was hard to take it off again.

A couple of days before Halloween, I was loitering in the Falcone foyer reluctantly waiting to be chaperoned to school, when Nic barged through the front door, a half-eaten breakfast burrito in one hand.

‘Hey,’ he said, lighting up. ‘How are you?’

‘Fine,’ I said, shaking my head as he held out the burrito in offering.

‘You sure?’ he pressed. ‘It’s delicious.’

‘I’m sure you need the energy more than me.’ You’re killing people; I’m studying poems and doing calculus.

‘I don’t mind sharing with my girl.’

He had taken to doing that a lot – referring to me as ‘his’, despite my repeated protestations to the contrary. Sometimes I wondered if he was just doing it to wind me up. ‘I’m not your girl,’ I reminded him. ‘As we’ve been over several thousand times.’

Nic rolled his eyes. ‘Right, right. I’m still in the friend-zone, but that doesn’t mean I can’t hop the fence.’

‘Actually, that’s exactly what it means.’

‘For the record, I disagree,’ he said, taking another bite of his burrito and laughing at my grimace.

‘What’s got you so giddy so early anyway, platonic male friend ? Where were you last night?’

I was really asking who did you kill? But I had quickly learnt that at the Falcone mansion, it is terribly uncouth to come right out and address the elephant in the room. They didn’t speak so openly of their murders. They were implicit things that happened beneath the fabric of their family.

‘You’re damn right I’m giddy,’ he said, shoving the rest of the burrito in his mouth and swallowing it in one giant gulp. ‘You’re not going to believe what I’ve got in the car with me.’ He bounded back outside. ‘Wait there!’

Dom came thudding down the stairs, and I scooted to the side before he shoved me out of the way. ‘Are they back?’ he asked. ‘Do they have the stuff?’

‘The stuff?’

He wrenched the double doors open so Gino and Nic could drag three black duffel bags into the foyer and deposit them on the marble crest. Gino was just as excitable as Nic, and Dom was rubbing his hands together as he stared at the duffel bags.

‘Who wants to do the honours?’ Nic asked, his gaze resting on me. ‘Wait until you see these, Soph. You’ll love them.’

‘Should we wait for Valentino?’ Gino asked.

‘He’s coming,’ said Dom, bending down and unzipping the bags. ‘I texted him. Come on, dig in. I want to pick my one first.’

Like little boys on Christmas morning, the three of them got on their knees and started rifling through the bags, pulling out guns bigger than my arms and legs. The kind of guns you see in war movies. The kinds of guns that spell instant, irrefutable death.

‘Whoa,’ I said, drifting towards the treasure trove of weapons. I knelt down next to Nic. ‘These are huge .’

‘Yeah,’ he said, smirking at me. ‘Eighteen automatics plus ammunition. Let’s see your uncle survive an assault from one of these.’

Before, a comment like that would have shocked me – scared me, even – but it barely registered now. The idea was as commonplace as the guns themselves.

He picked up a gun and hefted it into the crook of his arm, moving his shoulders around to get comfortable. Beside him, Dom and Gino were doing the same. ‘It’ll be heavier when loaded,’ said Dom, aiming his gun at me. ‘You think you can handle that, Sophie?’

Nic grabbed another gun from the bag and handed it to me, nodding at me to take it. I picked it up – it was heavy, even without the ammunition.

‘Relax your shoulders and grip it,’ said Nic, still watching me intently. ‘Here, like this. Look.’

He held the gun lower, at his chest, one hand on the front handle that jutted out almost parallel to the back handle, which he tucked into his ribcage, his elbow pulled back to make it fit. He directed it at Gino.

‘Say hello to my little friend!’ he said, before making a thud-thud-thud sound at him. Gino pretended to clutch at his heart and fall over. I had seen Gino like that before – only with real blood gushing down his shirt, his face as white as snow. Now, he was giggling in that high-pitched voice of his and writhing around on the floor, and I couldn’t help but find it strange how much he had distanced himself from the time he almost died. And yet, I was here, too, holding a machine gun to my chest and practising my aim in a puddle of assassins on a hundred-year-old marble crest that stood for blood and honour. And I don’t really know why, but I was laughing too.

Nic stopped faux-shooting and turned back to me, his smile as wide as I had ever seen it. There was something infectious about his excitement. I wanted to feel like that. I wanted to smile like that.

‘See?’ he said, still laughing a little. ‘Easy as that.’

I adjusted the gun as Nic had done, trying to push away the faint unease inside me. ‘Like this?’ I asked, swivelling to see if the gun was snug enough with movement. It was a little cumbersome.

‘Exactly,’ said Nic, winking at me. ‘You’re a natural with it. I knew you would be.’ Though I knew it shouldn’t, his approval made me smile.

Dom leant towards me, his pungent aftershave mixing with the faint whiff of hair gel that always emanated from him. ‘Maybe with this gun, the next time you shoot to kill, you’ll actually pull the trigger.’

Gino sat up. ‘What?’ he said, blinking at me and then at Dom. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Nic thumped Dom in the side of his head. ‘ Io non ci scherzerei tanto, fratello! ’

‘ Calmati ,’ said Dom, returning a jab to Nic’s right arm. ‘It’s a joke.’

‘I don’t get it,’ said Gino, still glancing between us.

I glowered at Dom. ‘A bad joke.’

‘A dangerous joke,’ cautioned Nic.

Dom shrugged. ‘She should have thought of that before she—’

‘Dom!’ I shouted, casting a wary glance at Gino. He didn’t know about my cowardice at The Sicilian Kiss, but the way Dom was dangling it in front of him, he was about to. And that would be one more chink in the secret, and one more step towards my eviction. Or worse. ‘Seriously, shut up!’

Dom raised his palms to me. ‘Calm down, tetchy. I’m just kidding around.’

‘What’s going on down here?’ Felice descended the stairs, his loafers padding softly on the stone floors, his grin fixed perfectly in place. Even now he was back to his old impeccably-turned-out self, I would never forget the version of Felice that had cornered me in that alcove, the manic look in his eyes, the thirst in his voice when he spoke to Paulie about Angelo. I would never forget how deeply he despised his role in the family, or how little respect he had for Valentino. He was more dangerous to me now than ever, and no amount of forced pleasantries or blithe indifference on his part was going to change that. ‘A special delivery, and no one thought to call me?’

‘We were picking our favourites,’ said Gino, twirling his own choice in front of him. ‘Didn’t want to get stuck with any duds.’

Felice arched a brow. ‘A delivery this precious from New York is unlikely to have any duds, Giorgio , and if the Di Salvos heard you say as much, they’d have your tongue cut out before lunchtime.’

‘Calm down, Felice.’ Nic was examining a longer, thinner gun now, which had a little tripod stand.

Felice hunkered down and took a gun for himself. I didn’t fail to notice the look of disdain he offered to the one sitting in my lap. It was probably the one he wanted. I clutched it harder, indicating just how sure my choice now was.

Elena swept through the hall a moment later, her pixie-like nose upturned at our huddle. ‘What a mess you all make sitting there like vagabonds,’ she said, eyeing the weapons over Dom’s shoulders. ‘Can’t we act like adults and place these elsewhere?’ She frowned at me. ‘And shouldn’t you be in school, girl?’

‘Valentino wants her chaperoned to and from school,’ said Dom, without looking up at his mother. ‘I’ll get around to it once I’ve chosen my favourite.’

‘Boys and their silly toys.’ Elena rolled her eyes and sashayed off into the kitchen, her heels clacking on the ground as she went, her voice fading. ‘And the Lord gave me five of them. La vita sa essere terribilmente ingiusta …’

‘So she doesn’t want a gun, then,’ I surmised.

‘Mamma doesn’t get her hands dirty if she can help it,’ Nic supplied. He was still examining his gun. His lips were puckered in concentration, his brows pulled together.

‘A lot of the girls don’t get their hands dirty,’ said Gino. ‘That’s what makes you so cool, Soph.’

Something fluttered inside me. Oh, God. Was I really this starved of praise and acceptance that this was making me smile? The answer: yes. ‘Thanks, Gino.’

‘Yeah, that’s what makes you different ,’ leered Dom. ‘Your extreme readiness to shoot people.’

I balled my fists. He just couldn’t help himself.

Felice was staring at me. Before he could interrogate Dom over that stupid comment, Valentino arrived. The wheels of his chair were almost soundless on the smooth floor, but Luca was with him, and their conversation, low and in Italian, preceded them.

‘Good,’ said Valentino, eyeing the delivery. ‘So the exchange went well?’ he asked Nic.

Nic disengaged from the guns and puffed his chest up. ‘And we have the Di Salvos’ support in New York too.’

‘Well done.’

Nic nodded, pride straightening his spine. ‘No problem.’

I stole a glance at Luca. He was staring at the automatic machine gun in my lap. To say he was frowning would be a colossal understatement.

‘Shouldn’t you be at school?’ he asked me.

‘I’m just waiting for Dom,’ I said.

Dom was rotating two guns in either hand and humming under his breath. They looked exactly the same to me. ‘I’m nearly ready,’ he said, without looking up. ‘Just have to make one last decision… or can I just have both?’ He looked at Valentino hopefully.

‘Obviously not,’ said Valentino.

Luca muttered something to Valentino and then pulled his car keys from his pocket. ‘I’ll take you, Sophie,’ he said. ‘Come on.’

‘Don’t you want to pick your gun, Luca?’ said Nic. ‘Before all the good ones go.’

Luca was halfway to the door. He didn’t bother turning around to answer. ‘A gun is a gun, Nicolò, not a trophy. Just get them out of the way before the others come downstairs. I don’t want Sal and Aldo seeing them.’

Dom started laughing. ‘Geez, I can’t wait for Christmas so you can suck the joy out of that too.’

Luca raised two fingers over his head, and then disappeared into the driveway. I put my gun down and shrugged my bag on to follow him outside.

‘Good luck going to school under that black cloud,’ said Dom sarcastically. ‘At least we’ll all get a break from him.’

‘Grow up.’ Valentino slapped the back of Dom’s head. ‘Just because he doesn’t want to play with guns like they’re toys.’

‘Blatant favouritism,’ Dom muttered.

Nic caught me by my hand, tugging my attention back to him. ‘I’ll save this one for you. Jack won’t know what hit him, Soph.’ He smiled up at me.

I smiled back. ‘Thanks.’

His fingers were pressing into my palm, jolting warmth up my arm. ‘How high is that friend-zone fence now?’

Frustration careened over my gratitude. ‘One hundred feet high, and covered in barbed wire, Nic.’

Dom, who had clearly been listening in, snorted. ‘Keep climbing, bro, and die trying to get over it.’

Nic slammed the butt of his gun into Dom’s arm, and I left them behind me, bickering.

In the driveway, I slid into the front seat of the car and dropped my bag in front of me so I could put my seatbelt on. ‘Thanks for babysitting me,’ I said. ‘I think Dom is finally getting fed up of being my driver.’

Luca started the engine and reversed around the driveway in a wide arc, his hand slid across the back of my chair, his gaze over his shoulder. ‘I’m just sorry I interrupted such a precious bonding moment.’

‘With me and Nic, or me and my new gun?’ I asked the side of his face.

His laugh was short and mirthless. ‘Aren’t they one and the same now?’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Let’s not do this, Luca. We’re never going to agree about this, so why keep going round in circles?’

He wasn’t looking at me, and I wasn’t looking at him. ‘Sometimes I wonder if you make decisions just to piss me off.’

I glared at the road. ‘Sometimes I wonder if you give yourself too much credit in my decision-making.’

‘Do you have a death wish?’

‘I have a revenge wish.’

‘I have a problem with that.’

‘Then evict me.’

‘No.’

‘Then deal with it.’

He ground his fingers around the steering wheel. ‘And you wouldn’t consider taking a step back from the guns,’ he said, ‘and letting me handle it for you?’

‘What do you mean, handle it ?’

‘Let me take care of your uncle and Donata.’

‘And what, I just stay at home, looking wistfully out the window as you go forth and massacre my family?’

‘I’d prefer it to the alternative.’

‘Well, that’s not your decision to make,’ I said, carefully. ‘We’re all in this together now, and I don’t plan on failing again when my time comes.’

He set his jaw, a muscle feathering below his cheekbone. He chewed on the silence, and I fell into it, preferring it over the constant need to convince him, to avoid being convinced by him.

We were pulling up outside Cedar Hill High before he spoke to me again. He shut the engine off and turned to face me. My heartbeat immediately kicked into high gear, but I knew he wasn’t going to kiss me. That side of us was long gone. We were more like adversaries now, with a vague sprinkling of friendship every now and then, when we weren’t arguing.

I raised my eyebrows. ‘Yes?’

‘Sophie.’ His eyes were the purest blue in the morning sunlight, his lips lightly parted so that his breath warmed his words. ‘Can’t this just be enough for you?’

‘W-what?’ I stammered.

‘School,’ he said. ‘Your friends. Normality. Isn’t it enough?’

My face fell. ‘Oh,’ I said, trying to harness myself again. ‘School. Normality.’ I grabbed my school bag, and popped the door open before my embarrassment could swallow me whole. I hopped out and ducked my head inside, towards him, trying very hard not to look at his lips.

‘Look,’ I said. ‘If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t totally disengaged from my old life. I’m doing the most normal high school thing ever tomorrow night. I’m going to the masquerade dance.’

‘The what?’

‘The dance,’ I repeated. ‘You know, Millie’s dance?’ And then I realized I had never once mentioned Millie’s dance to him, because, why would I? We didn’t talk about the light-hearted stuff, the falsities of my second life. ‘Tomorrow,’ I clarified. ‘I’m going. More or less against my will, but Millie was very adamant from the start and I kind of owe her, y’know?’

He was staring at me. It was not in a sexy way.

‘It’s going to be horrible,’ I added, feeling like I needed to play it down, like the idea of me having fun while he was at home helping Valentino with assassination logistics was an unfair one. ‘But I’m going. So there. That’s something normal. Will that tide you over?’

‘This is obviously a joke,’ he said. ‘This is a joke, yes?’

‘What? No.’

His lips parted in surprise. Don’t look at his lips. ‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Why?’ I asked, a familiar flash of irritation taking hold of me. ‘Is the idea of me in a dress at a dance really so shocking to you?’

He tilted his head to one side. ‘You’re actually serious.’

‘No, duh,’ I snapped.

‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘No way.’

‘I wasn’t asking you,’ I pointed out.

‘Well, you’re going to listen to me.’

I grabbed the doorframe. ‘Exsqueeze me?’

He came closer, undaunted. ‘I said there’s no way you’re going out at night unattended to a dance while we’re in the middle of an active blood war.’

My fingers tightened on the doorframe. ‘Do you want me to do normal things or do you want me to shoot guns? Make up your damn mind, you yo-yo.’

He glared at me. ‘You’re not going to that dance while Donata has her soldati out looking for you. She’s put a bounty on all of our heads, and I guarantee you, as a former Marino, yours is the highest.’

If he was trying to scare me into submission, it was working, but I was definitely not going to let him see that. ‘I go to school, don’t I? You’ve always been so insistent about that.’

‘That’s different. It’s the middle of the day, full of witnesses, and we bring you here and pick you up.’

‘There’ll be witnesses at the dance,’ I pointed out. I never imagined I’d be fighting this hard to actually attend the stupid dance, but now I really wanted to go, just to prove to him he couldn’t control me. ‘And I’m going with Millie and Crispin, so it’s not like I’ll be on my own anyway.’

‘And what exactly is a Crispin?’ Luca sounded like he could taste the word in his mouth and didn’t like it one bit.

I rolled my eyes. ‘A Crispin is a person , Luca. He’s Millie’s boyfriend. And the dance is being supervised in the gym. It’s perfectly safe. It’s the same as going to school.’

‘No, it’s not.’

‘Yeah, well.’ I shrugged my bag on to my shoulder. ‘Whatever.’

‘You’re not going, Sophie. I’m serious.’

‘We’ll see.’ I shut the door and flounced up the steps, feeling his glare on the back of my neck.

My phone buzzed.

It’s not happening.

I rolled my eyes. It was so happening. Otherwise Donata Marino would have to get in line behind Millie for my head on a plate. There was no logic in Luca keeping me from the school dance if he was prepared to make me go to school every day. The two were basically the same thing, and it’s not like Donata had the timetable for Cedar Hill High’s social events. Still. Best not cause an all-out civil war with Luca over it. A well-placed emoji should smooth things over. A giggling monkey? No. Too frivolous. Dancing Senorita lady? A definite contender, but perhaps a bit too taunt-y. Something that says ‘I’m not going to listen to you in this instance, but let’s just move on and not be mad about it, OK?’

I don’t respect your authority, remember?

I made my way along the deserted corridors. I was definitely late. Another ping back.

You are such a brat.

Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. I stalled outside my biology class and sent back one more text.

Try and stop me.

I shuffled inside, made my hasty apologies and slid into my seat, glancing surreptitiously at my phone one last time.

Watch me.

At lunchtime, Millie and I convened with sandwich wraps and smoothies outside on the bleachers. I had pushed the argument with Luca right to the back of my mind – into the filing cabinet with all the other ones.

‘Why do we have to do this here?’ I asked Millie, rubbing my arms through my coat. ‘I’m going to freeze.’

‘Well, at least don’t freeze with that frown on your face, cranky-pants. I don’t want anyone else to see these dresses. It would be a huge spoiler.’ She took a swig of her smoothie and nearly spat it out. ‘I hate kale so much. Why do I do this to myself?’

Mine was berry. And it was de-lic-ious. I gulped it down. ‘Because you’re trying to be healthy?’

‘It’s not worth drinking grass over. And my wrap is just feta and lettuce ,’ she lamented.

‘At least it won’t get stuck in your braces,’ I pointed out. Millie had just gotten her braces off and we were taking every opportunity to point out how bling-tastic her teeth were now that they weren’t hidden. Millie was beautiful already, but her new smile was an explosion of loveliness. It suited her. Pearly white, straight teeth to go with her long dark hair, a smattering of freckles over porcelain skin, and those shiny blue eyes.

She gnashed her teeth at me, scrunching her nose at the same time. ‘At least I can now eat things in an orderly and timely fashion.’

‘And look amazing all the while,’ I said, ‘not that you weren’t a vision before.’

She slapped my arm playfully. ‘You flatterer, you.’

We sat down and she pulled out two floor-length dresses from her bag and laid them in front of us, side by side.

My eyes grew, and something hitched up in my chest.

Something small and slumbering awoke inside me. A new sensation – or at least one so long forgotten that it felt new. It was a feeling of anticipation… of wanting. I was used to frequent pinches, feelings of anxiety, of fear… but this, this was unexpected. I thought that excitable, girly, teenager part of me was dead and buried, but here was a sliver of it, getting geared up for the Masquerade Ball. Suddenly, I really really wanted to go to the dance.

‘Royal blue or emerald green?’ Millie asked. She was still fluffing them out, showing their shape.

‘They’re amazing.’ I fingered the delicate green material, lifting it up and letting it flow between my fingers. ‘Are you sure? Won’t your mom mind?’

‘No way,’ she said, grinning. ‘She’d give you the moon right now if she could. Pick whichever one you want. I’m wearing a black fishtail one so you can have either of these. They’re pretty tight, but you’re outrageously hot, so it’s fine.’

I slapped her arm playfully. ‘Now who’s the flatterer?’ A smile caught in my cheeks. I stroked the material, loving the softness beneath my fingertips. And to think, just this morning I was as enthusiastic about the gun in my lap. What was wrong with me?

Which Sophie was I?

‘Hmmm.’ I lifted up both so I could see how they fell.

‘I think the blue one would bring out your eyes,’ Millie pointed out. I swished it around, admiring how the material tumbled like a waterfall. It was Grecian in style, with delicate straps that criss-crossed near the bodice. It was tight around the waist and flowed to the ground in tumbling waves.

‘The material slits halfway up the side so it swishes when you walk.’ Millie made a swish-swish sound and moved her hands in front of me in squiggling lines to demonstrate.

‘I do like to swish,’ I said.

‘Don’t we all?’ said Millie, wistfully. ‘Those Falcone boys are going to drool when they see you.’

All the little butterflies inside me seized up. ‘That reminds me,’ I said, leaving the dress down again, smoothing out the bodice with my fingers, like I was lovingly petting a dog. ‘Luca says I can’t go to the dance.’

‘Huh,’ said Millie, screwing up her nose. ‘I didn’t realize Luca Falcone was your evil stepmother.’

‘What?’ I feigned surprise. ‘Are you sure? ’

‘Pretty sure,’ she said, stroking her chin. ‘So, what gives? Do I need to get you a pumpkin? Some helpful kitchen mice? A fairy godmother, perhaps?’

I was wondering how I could conjure a lie that would aptly cover up the fact that I was in the middle of a giant blood war with another Mafia family, reignited by the fact that they all thought I had just murdered a Marino soldato who I was also, conveniently, related to. ‘Luca’s just being protective.’

‘Buy him a kitten and let him protect that. He’s not your guardian.’

‘Yeah, I know,’ I said slowly. ‘I just don’t think he’s going to be pleased about me going. I’m not saying I’m not going to go, I’m just saying he’ll probably try and stop me, that’s all.’

‘Sophie.’ Millie levelled me with a dark look. ‘Luca Falcone does not want to get in the way of me and my dance. He’ll regret it.’

A laugh bubbled out of me. ‘Oh, yeah?’

She nodded, eyes wide. ‘Nobody messes with my plans. I don’t care how murdery they are. He’d better step back. Now.’

‘He’s a formidable foe,’ I said. ‘Trust me.’

‘Wait,’ she said, her eyes lighting up. ‘Why don’t you just invite him?’

I threw my head back and laughed. The idea was so ludicrous, so improbable… so pathetic. Pathetic that the only boy I was interested in would rather gouge his eyes out than accompany me on an actual date to a high school dance. I stopped laughing. It really wasn’t that funny.

‘No,’ I said, composing myself. ‘That’s not the solution, trust me. We haven’t really been getting on lately.’

‘Why? Are you flirting with Nic?’

‘I do not flirt with Nic! Why does a girl being nice to a boy always have to be construed as flirting? I am capable of having more than one agenda in my head at any given time.’

‘OK, OK, relax, I was just asking…’

‘And Luca doesn’t see me like that any more, anyway,’ I added.

‘OK, fine, no Luca. I get it,’ Millie conceded. ‘That’s probably a good thing. I really don’t want to scare Cris away.’ She smiled involuntarily at the mention of Cris, who had made the transition from casual hook-up to bona fide boyfriend in a matter of weeks. He was nice: normal, kind, and most importantly, safe. I liked Crispin. Even despite the hideous name. He couldn’t help that.

‘Don’t worry, for the sake of your burgeoning relationship I’ll keep my assassins as far away from your boyfriend as I can. But I can’t imagine anything would put Crispin off you,’ I added. ‘You are, after all, utter perfection.’

‘You can just call him Cris, you know.’

I smiled sweetly at her. ‘I actually really enjoy saying the full version, so you’ll just have to indulge me.’

I was rooting for Crispin. I was rooting for anyone that didn’t live in my world. I think deep down, I knew that I would have to leave Millie some day, in one way or another, and when I did, I didn’t want to leave her on her own.

‘How’s it going with good old Crispin anyway?’ I had been spending so much time worrying about myself that I hadn’t given her half enough opportunity to talk about herself – or let her gush about her love life.

Millie beamed at me. ‘I’m pretty sure he’s in love with me.’

‘No way,’ I said, stifling a squeal, the inner romantic in me alive and well. ‘How do you know? What did he say? When did he say it? Start from the beginning. Leave nothing out.’

She glanced away, as if checking for possible eavesdroppers. There was a thirty-yard radius around us, care of my infamy. ‘OK, so basically, the other night, we were watching Ghost at my house, you know that movie with Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore when they were both at peak hotness?’

‘Of course.’

‘So, we were on the couch and Cris had his arm around me and I was lying back against his chest, and we were watching that scene where they get all sultry with the clay while ‘Unchained Melody’ plays in the background, and I was saying how Ghost did for pottery what Benedict Cumberbatch did for Sherlock Holmes. Made it sexy, you know? Anyways, next thing I know, he’s stroking my hair, right… and then… he kissed me on the head! Like he just leant down and kissed the top of my head.’

She was practically jumping up and down in her seat.

‘Um… what?’ I said.

She pointed to the crown of her head, where her parting split her long hair evenly. ‘He kissed me here. On the head.’

‘He kissed you the way a parent kisses a newborn baby? He kissed you… like, paternally?’

‘Oh, Jesus, Sophie.’

‘What? I don’t understand! Your rants are always so vague. I feel like I need CliffsNotes.’

She placed her palms on her knees and drew in a deep breath. ‘Have I never told you this theory of mine?’

‘Oh, I love your theories,’ I said, leaning back in my seat and getting comfortable. ‘Please. Proceed.’

She smirked at me. ‘I have long been convinced that when a boy kisses you on the head – not in a sexual way or a hint-hint-I-want-to-have-sex-now way – just tenderly, like in a way that comes naturally to him, almost like a reflex, it means he has crossed over the threshold of “like” or “lust” and has fallen in love with you. Sometimes they don’t even realize it. It’s like their body and their reactions understand it first and then their brain gets it a while later. But mark my words, it is a sign .’

I was trying my hardest not to smirk.

‘A kiss for the sake of a kiss, and nothing else,’ she said. ‘I’m telling you, it’s a sign.’

‘Where did this theory come from?’

‘My mum,’ said Millie. ‘About two months after she started seeing my dad, they were standing outside the cinema and it was freezing cold. He had his arms around her and she was hugging him back, trying to steal his body heat, and they were laughing about something in the movie they’d seen, and he just leant down and kissed her on the head, and she said that’s when she knew.’

‘Knew that she was in love with him?’

‘No!’ Millie scoffed. ‘That he was in love with her . Have you seen my mum? She’s way hotter than my dad. He had to play the personality game to get her. It was a longer process.’

‘Uh-huh…’ I said, coming around to the idea. I had never really experienced it, so I supposed I couldn’t say for certain whether it was bull or not. Even though it did sound pretty suspect. I could, however, believe that a boy was madly in love with her. That part on its own was easy. ‘So, Crispin loves you, then?’

She nodded, her hair curtaining either side of her face. ‘I could just feel it.’

‘Well, that’s cool,’ I said, grinning at her. ‘And I’m not surprised, either.’

‘He’ll probably say it at the dance. I don’t know what I’m going to say back yet.’

‘Do you love him back?’ I asked.

Millie shook her head. ‘Nah, not yet.’

‘You could pull a Han Solo, and say “I know” when he tells you.’

‘Your nerdy sci-fi knowledge notwithstanding, Soph, that is actually not such a terrible idea.’

‘Yes, it is!’ I said, alarmed. ‘Don’t say “I know”. That’s so mean! I was kidding!’

‘I’ll think of something,’ she assured me. ‘ Anyway , returning to my earlier point. You don’t need to worry about some poxy Falcone curfew barricading you in your princess tower. Cris and I will just come and get you tomorrow evening, and we’ll all go together. You can have your Cinderella moment. I will make sure of it.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, in earnest. ‘I think I’ll make a rather dashing third wheel.’

‘You’ll be the sexiest third wheel in the history of Cedar Hill High. And if you’re feeling uncomfortable, just say the word and we can ditch Cris, because as I’ve always said, Soph, you’re my real true love.’ She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. ‘There’s no love as real as that of a girl and her best friend.’

‘Damn straight,’ I agreed. ‘I love you, Mil.’

She winked at me. ‘I know.’