Noah stuck his lip out and I knew I'd forgiven him. This time, at least.

"Am I forgiven?" he asked, making his voice babyish to match his face.

I winced. "You're forgiven if you promise never to talk or look like that ever again."

Noah laughed and put his arm around me. We started walking.

"So why are you here anyway?"

"Is it a crime to want to walk my gorgeous girlfriend to college?"

Wow. I tried to remain upright when, inside, some sort of happy atomic bomb was exploding.

I'm gorgeous? I'm his girlfriend?

"So I'm your girlfriend now?" I asked, proud at my ability to remain nonchalant.

Undeterred, Noah kept walking. "Yep. Sorry, but you have no choice in the matter."

"Well, that hardly seems very fair."

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?" He didn't look concerned when he asked the question. Cocky bastard.

"What about Portia? Isn't she your girlfriend?"

He stiffened and I began to enjoy myself.

"Do we have to go there?"

"Why?" I said, all innocently. "What happened?"

"It's sorted. Don't worry about it."

"How's Jack's drum?"

"How the hell do you know about that?" Noah laughed.

"My best friend is the Sherlock Holmes of Middletown."

"Lizzie," he said, shaking his head.

"Was it bad?" We'd reached the alleyways and the sound of traffic was more distant than before.

Noah looked distressed. "It wasn't great. I felt like a right arsehole."

He'd acted like one. I kept walking, still with his arm around me, and looked at the trees growing overhead. The gaps in the branches cast puddles of light onto us. "I want to reassure you, but what you did was a little bit arseholey."

"I know."

There was a slightly uncomfortable silence. I hated how things were either wonderful or tense between us. I felt we were on the verge of getting involved in something we couldn't undo, and couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing. But when I looked up at Noah, the light falling onto his chiselled face, my stomach flip-flopped and I decided it was good. For now, anyway.

The awkwardness passed and I enjoyed having his body so close. The walk flew by and soon we were only five minutes from college and my English lesson.

Noah carefully extracted his arm from round me. "Sorry," he said. "It's been a bit more of a sombre walk than I'd hoped."

I tried to smile.

"It's just, well, I feel guilty about this Portia thing. I can't believe I used someone like that. I was just so desperate for you to realize your feelings."

I thought about what Lizzie had said. "Well, if it's any help, it's not like you urinated on Mother Teresa or something. From what I heard, she isn't the nicest person."

Noah nodded but then shook his head. "It still wasn't right."

"But she broke the drum. Doesn't that make you even?"

He laughed. "Yes, she did bloody break the drum. That was crazy."

I laughed too as I pictured it.

"Are you free after college?"

My heart sank. Dr. Ashley. I shook my head. "No. Not right after college anyway. I've got a thing."

"That sounds ominous."

I didn't look at him. "It's hard to explain."

I dug out my mobile phone to check the time. I was going to be late. Again. Noah saw me pull a face.

"You gotta go to class?"

"Unfortunately."

"Well, what are you doing after this thing of yours?"

"Nothing. Why?"

Noah picked a small piece of lint off my T-shirt and brushed it away. "I was wondering if you wanted to come over to my place and, you know, hang out?"

I remembered his reputation and gulped. What exactly did he mean by "hang out"? What was wanted? Expected?

I nodded my head slowly, trying to calm my quickened breath.

I needed advice. Oh no. I was going to have to tell Lizzie. But she would be so unbearable.

"Is that a yes?" He was looking at me curiously.

I nodded again.

"Alright. Well, I'll come round yours at six-ish and pick you up." He took my hand and squeezed it. Then, before I knew what was happening, he'd turned and left.

I wobbled my way to English, trembling at the thought of that evening. Part of me longed for it to be Saturday morning again. Then, I'd banished Noah from my mind and was getting on with living my uneventful, but ultimately unstressful life. Now, in just one weekend, I'd broken up a couple, acquired a boyfriend and begun panicking about whether I was expected to sleep with him already.

I staggered past desks and slumped into my seat without even acknowledging Frank's hello. I put my head in my arms and concentrated on keeping my breathing regular. But it was coming out in fast rapid pants.

"Poppy, are you alright?" Frank asked.

But I couldn't answer. I couldn't breathe.

Not another one. Not here.

Get a grip, I told myself. Squeezing my eyes shut, I began reasoning to calm myself down: You don't have to sleep with him. You only just got together. If he expects it, just say no. Kill him if he makes it a problem.

It worked a little. I felt my breathing ease. I began to hear Ms. Gretching teaching at the front of the class. Her voice got louder and less tinny.

You don't need to sleep with him yet, I repeated in my head. And, slowly, I felt strong enough to raise my head and meet Frank's worried eyes.

"Poppy?"

"Hi, Frank. What's up?"

"Are you okay? You were having a bit of a special moment just then."

I laughed in what I hoped was a realistic way. "Sorry about that. Didn't sleep well last night and just needed to mentally prepare myself for the next hour of joyous English."

Frank didn't look convinced but let it go. "You're such a weirdo."

"Takes one to know one."

I let Ms. Gretching's boring blaring become background noise again and returned to the problem. I needed advice. Lizzie.

She was easy enough to find at lunch, huddled over that bloody notepad.

I plopped down next to her, mentally preparing myself for the oncoming squeals. "Where are Ruth and Amanda?"

Lizzie looked up from her scribblings. "Ruth's stressing about her Travel and Tourism coursework and has dragged Amanda to the library for moral support."

I looked round. The canteen wasn't as busy as it usually was. Coursework fear must have kicked in and the library was now the social epicentre of campus.

I grimaced. "Poor Amanda."

"Never mind poor Amanda. Poor me! I need your Psychology coursework NOW."

I sighed, dug in my bag and handed it over. Lizzie grabbed it enthusiastically, looking a bit like Gollum from Lord of the Rings. I sat back as I let her go through it.

"I can't believe you've finished already."

"It's just a first draft, Lizzie. Why haven't you done it, anyway?"

She turned over a page. "I've been teaching myself shorthand in my spare time."

"Of course you have..."

She started taking notes and I noticed her copying huge chunks of my work word for word. It was time to ask her advice if only to stop her blatant plagiarizing.

"Lizzie?" I asked.

"Yes?"

"Can I tell you a secret?"

The Psychology coursework was forgotten. She leaped forward in her chair, her eyes gleaming.

"What is it?" she demanded.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

"Hang on. First of all I need you to absolutely PROMISE you won't tell anyone."

Her face fell and I could see her battling with herself.

"Am I going to have to say the words 'off the record'?"

Lizzie laughed. "No. Okay. I promise. What is it?"

I looked around the half-empty canteen to check no one was listening. Of course they weren't. Lizzie and I weren't of much importance to anyone.

"Well, I'm telling you this because I need your advice. Seriously. I'm proper freaking out."

Lizzie nodded solemnly. "I can do advice."

"Well, the thing is, I'm kinda seeing Noah Roberts."

I wasn't expecting her to scream. The whole building turned to look as Lizzie let out a high-pitched whoop, before her eyes bulged and she stuffed her hand into her mouth.

"Thank you for your discretion," I said wryly.

"Oh. My. God. Are you being serious?"

I nodded.

"Jesus Christ, this is good gossip."

I slapped her hand. "Oi! Off the record, remember?"

"Ahh, man."

"Lizzie. You promised!"