My feet keep tapping on the classroom floor. The class stretches out like it’s in slow motion, the clock hands barely moving. My brain keeps trying to come up with all possible answers Theo can give Ferdinand for his lie.
By lunchtime, I’m a bundle of nerves. When Ferd finally slides into the seat across from us in the cafeteria, his expression unreadable, I nearly knock over my water bottle.
“Well?” Sophie demands, skipping over any kind of greeting.
Ferd takes his time unwrapping his sandwich, the paper crinkling way too loud for my current stress levels. “Well what?” he asks, corner of his mouth twitching like he’s trying not to smile.
“Ferdinand Cole, I swear to God—” I snap.
“Okay, okay,” he laughs, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I talked to him.”
“And?” Sophie and I say at the same time.
Ferd’s teasing smile fades. “It’s… interesting. And weird. He said Amanda told him ‘her brother spent her birthday with Becca.’” He looks right at me now, eyes narrowed. “Which is news to me, Miss Rebecca.”
My stomach sinks. Oh god. I forgot he doesn’t know anything about Daniel at the party.
“I—” I start, but Sophie cuts in.
“Wait, you didn’t tell Ferd about Daniel?”
Ferd’s whole vibe shifts. “Apparently not. And you knew about it, Soph?” His voice is quieter, but annoyed. “Great. Love being the last to know.”
“It wasn’t like that,” I say quickly, my cheeks heating. “I met him at Amanda’s party—the one you invited me to and then immediately disappeared from, by the way. I ended up hiding in the living room, and Daniel walked in. We just… talked.”
“About what?” Ferd presses, still clearly hurt.
“Music, college, normal stuff.” I shrug, trying to downplay it. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Not a big deal?” Sophie chimes in. “You’ve been checking your phone every five seconds for weeks hoping he’d text you!”
I shoot her a glare, but she ignores it.
Ferd’s eyebrows shoot up. “So let me get this straight. You meet some guy, don’t tell me anything, obsess over him for weeks, and now you’re all weird about Theo… and you both kept this tiny detail from me?”
“I wasn’t obsessing,” I mumble. “And I didn’t say anything because it was embarrassing, alright? He never even texted.”
Ferd’s face softens a little. “Still… You should’ve told me, Bec.”
“I know.” I sigh. “I’m sorry, really! But can we circle back to the main thing… what did you tell Theo?”
He sighs, stuffing a crisp into his mouth before answering. “Told him there’s nothing going on between you and Daniel. It was hard to sound convincing when I didn’t even know about it.” He rolls his eyes. “This whole thing is getting ridiculous.”
“So why did Theo even care?” Sophie asks, voice casual, but I can see the glint in her eyes. She knows why.
Ferd shrugs. “He felt like an idiot for chatting you up that day, when you were apparently into Mandy’s brother.”
The cafeteria noise faded to a distant hum as his words sank in. “Wait. He was… chatting me up?”
“Apparently,” Ferdinand grinned, a sign of his good humor returning. “And now he feels extra dumb for lying about the umbrella.”
“That’s actually kind of sweet, in a completely ridiculous way.” Sophie concludes with a big smile.
“And then?” I could feel my heart skipping a bit. “What else? You didn’t say I was upset, did you?” I ask, suddenly mortified.
“Relax.” Ferd rolls his eyes. “I just said you noticed the inconsistency in the story. He actually seemed… relieved.”
“Relieved?” I echo, trying not to sound too hopeful.
“Yeah. And then he asked me to invite you to rehearsal this Thursday. Amanda said we could bring a couple friends. ‘Just a few’,” he adds with a high pitch voice, mimicking what I assume must be Amanda’s voice.
Sophie beams in excitement. “Yes! We are definitely going.”
“‘We’?” I ask.
“Obviously we. You didn’t think I was letting you walk into that band rehearsal alone, did you? Plus, I want to meet this Amanda person who’s started this whole thing.”
Ferd starts defending Amanda, saying she technically didn’t lie about it, but my phone buzzes with a message from my mum, and his voice fades into the background as I check it.
Back in London this weekend. Lunch on Saturday?
Bring Sophie if you want. xx
I stare at the message. No ‘how are you’. Or ‘sorry for not replying your last message’. It’s like an item she needs to add to her busy schedule, ‘lunch with my daughter’. Her sporadic appearances in my life always leave me feeling off-balance, like stepping onto uneven ground in the dark.
“Earth to Becca.” Sophie waves her hand in front of my face. “Who’s that from? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“It’s my mum,” I say, showing her the message. “She wants to have lunch this weekend.”
“Cool,” Sophie nods. “We should go. Maybe you can ask her advice about this Theo situation.”
I snort. “Right. Because my mum is such an expert on healthy relationships.” I slip my phone into my pocket without texting back.
“So I’ll see you both at rehearsal this Thursday,” Ferd confirms. “And Becca? Theo seemed really happy when I cleared things up.”
That flutter again. “Good to know.”
The rest of the day blurs past. My thoughts keep circling back to two things: Theo’s misunderstanding, and my mum’s message. One feels like it’s just beginning. The other’s been unfinished for as long as I can remember.
I wonder what my mum would make of all this. Would she roll her eyes and say teenage crushes don’t matter? I bet she would say some cliche thing about being independent. Despite everything, some small part of me wants to ask her, to have that kind of mother-daughter moment you only ever see in movies.
After dinner, I sit on my bed and before I can overthink it again, I type out a reply:
Saturday lunch works. It will be nice to catch up. Sophie is coming too.
Her response comes surprisingly quickly:
Darling, so sorry but need to reschedule lunch. New shoot came up. Still in London though! Dinner instead? Let me know what works x
The familiar disappointment settling low in my stomach. Classic Anne. Career first, always. I type a vague reply about checking my schedule, even though we both know I’ll be free whenever she suggests. After seventeen years, I’ve mastered the art of flexible expectations where my mum’s concerned. Dad always put an effort to defend her. He says she is trying her best, and that even from a distance she cares about me. I don’t know how he can be so sure about it.
My eyes land on the bright pink umbrella leaning against my desk. I would give anything to hear what Grandpa would say if he were here. About Theo, about Mum, about everything.
The music room is already in full swing by the time Sophie and I step through the door. The band is deep in preparation mode for their upcoming gig at The Anchor, making the room pulse with focused energy.
Amanda stands dead centre, like that’s exactly where she belongs. Her voice cuts through the chaos, sounding very commanding. “Ferd, that bridge needs to be tighter. Let’s take it from the second verse again.”
She doesn’t even look at us when we walk in. Not a nod. Not a glance. Just keeps running the show like a popstar general. Ferd spots me and offers a small wave from behind his guitar. Theo glances up too and our eyes meet for half a second before Amanda snaps everyone back into position.
When Amanda starts singing, it’s infuriating. Her voice is ridiculous. Rich and effortless and so perfectly controlled it makes everyone else fade. She moves around the band with ease. She dances with the girl on the bass, adjusts her mic, leans on Ferd to reach her high notes. But every time she gets closer to the piano, something sharp and ugly burns in my stomach. Especially when she sings while looking at Theo. Like it means something.
Does it mean something? I mean, with all her confidence and precision and sparkly eyeliner, I could believe there was meaning behind every word and every move.
“Better,” Amanda says after their third run through the same song, flipping her hair back like it’s part of the performance. “Five-minute break, then we’re doing the new one.”
Theo walks over to where Sophie and I sit against the wall and drops down beside us, cross-legged on the floor. His eyes find mine first, soft but unsure, then flick briefly to Sophie, then away.
“Glad you came,” he says. There’s a pause like he wants to add something, but doesn’t.
Sophie catches the look between us and springs to her feet. “Toilet,” she announces, far too brightly. “Be right back.” She flashes me a subtle you’ve got this expression before slipping out.
Theo rubs the back of his neck, glancing sideways.
“I’m sorry about this whole thing. I just… I didn’t mean for things to get weird.”
“It’s fine,” I say quickly. “Nothing’s weird.” Except this knot in my stomach. This buzzing in my chest. This ridiculous awareness of the space between us.
He nods, but doesn’t look entirely convinced. “I don’t know what Ferd told you, but—”
“—Theo!” Amanda’s voice slices through from the other side of the room. “Can you help Rob with the drum timing before we start again?”
He sighs, not annoyed exactly, but like something delicate just slipped away.
“To be continued.” He gives me a small smile before getting up and returning to work.
I watch him go, my heart still thudding like it hasn’t gotten the message that the moment’s over.
The rest of the rehearsal follows the same rhythm. Stolen glances. Quick smiles. They call it done after almost two hours of intense practice.
“You guys sounded amazing,” Sophie offers when Ferd and Theo appear in the hallway.
“Thanks,” Ferd says, running a hand through his hair, which is sticking up in every direction after rehearsal. “I know Amanda’s intense, but she gets stuff done.”
“She definitely seemed… focused.” I try to keep my tone neutral.
Theo laughs. “That’s one way to put it.” He shifts slightly, his eyes flicking to me before he adds, “So… a few of us are meeting at Town Park on Saturday. Weather forecast says it’s going to be the first properly sunny day in weeks.”
My heart does this small, traitorous flip. “Oh?”
“Yeah, nothing major. Just hanging out. Maybe some music. You two should come.” He glances at Sophie, but his gaze lingers on me.
“Sounds fun,” Sophie jumps in. “What time?”
“Around noon? By the old oak near the pond.”
“We’ll be there,” she says confidently, nudging me with her elbow.
Theo’s smile stretches wider. “Great. See you Saturday, then.”
As he and Ferd walk away, Sophie turns to me with a smug little grin. “Well, well. Looks like you’ve got plans this weekend after all.”
I nod. It’s indeed a relief to have real plans. Gives me a clean excuse to tell mum. But my heart doesn’t feel relieved. If anything, I’m extra anxious now.
Sunshine, the park, Theo… suddenly, Saturday feels like something worth waiting for.