"I'm bored. I can't believe I'm missing rugby practice to go to a stupid museum."

I rolled my eyes. "Poor thing! How will you cope?"

"Shut up."

"I mean screw the trenches they were nothing. Missing rugby practice is far more upsetting."

"You've made your point."

"I always do."

Frank leaned back in his chair and exhaled slowly. "It's going to be a long day."

The train sped along. I read a bit of Frank's paper. We tried to share his iPod but couldn't agree on what to listen to. I ate a chewy bar and gave him half.

It appeared we weren't so comfortable with each other away from the classroom. Things felt a bit stilted, which wasn't usual for us.

Frank broke the slightly awkward silence. "So, do you know what you want to study at uni yet?"

University. Scary. I had tried not to think about it.

"We don't have to decide until next year, do we?"

"I know that, but you must have a vague idea. UCAS time will come up before you know it."

I'd had a few university prospectuses land through my letter box but I'd only skim-read them. I couldn't concentrate for long. I got too freaked out and chucked them under my desk.

"Well..." I said. "I did always want to do English but Ms. Gretching is kinda putting me off."

"I'm thinking of doing English too."

I was surprised. Yeah, Frank always got good grades but I didn't know he enjoyed it.

"Really? Not Sport Science?"

"Are you kidding? Do you have any idea how many girls do English?"

I elbowed him.

"Oww."

"You're really going to choose a university course based on its pulling potential?"

Frank rubbed his arm. "Not completely, but it's something worth considering. I don't want to spend three years surrounded entirely by men."

"So what female-friendly unis have you looked at so far?"

He ticked them off on his fingers. "Leeds, Edinburgh, Exeter, oh and Sheffield..."

I perked up in my seat. "Sheffield? I'm looking at there!"

"Really?"

"Uh-huh."

"Maybe we'll end up at the same uni."

"On the same course..."

"Maybe so."

We silently contemplated our futures.

"I don't think we would be friends though," I said.

Frank's face fell for a second or maybe I imagined it. "Why not?"

"Well, you would be in all the sports teams, wouldn't you? Rugby, football, cricket. Male chauvinism 101? You'd gallivant around the city en masse, boasting about having chlamydia and playing 'hilarious' drinking games with dares. I'd have to pretend I didn't know you."

Frank bristled. "Oh yeah? Well, you'd probably spend all your time watching obscure bands playing gross venues, hanging out in coffee chains arguing about communism, and organizing student protests. And I'd have to pretend I didn't know you either."

"See. I told you we wouldn't be friends at uni."

"Are we even friends now?"

"God, I hope not."

"Me too."

And we both laughed.

Frank began colouring in the squares of the newspaper crossword with a smeary biro. "What about your fella? What will Mr. Rock Star be doing while you further your mind?"

Noah.

Uni.

It was something that had briefly crossed my mind but I'd shoved it out of my brain violently and immediately. The thought was just too painful.

"We'll work something out." I couldn't meet Frank's eye.

His voice was sarcastic. "Yeah, because so many couples stay together when one of them starts uni."

His words stung like ice picks. Remembering what had happened in Dr. Ashley's office, I tried not to let the panic rise up in my throat.

"Well, it's not for some time yet," I replied, breathing deeply.

"It's only a year away. Think how fast a year goes."

I swung to face him. "Seriously, Frank, quit it! What's wrong with you? You jealous? Is that it? Or do you just hate seeing people happy? Well, shut up. I don't care. And I don't want to talk about uni, okay?"

Frank's face went through a number of emotions pretty quickly. He opened his mouth but didn't say anything. His cheeks went red and he looked down at his paper.

An agonizingly long silence passed while I thought it through. Had this awkwardness with Frank begun when Noah and I began? Was he jealous?

I shook my head.

No. That was impossible.

The train pulled into the station. Passengers began to stand up, fellow students included, and started pulling their bags down from overhead.

"Is it over then?" I asked.

"Is what over?"

"Your male equivalent of PMS."

"Me? PMS? You're the one that yelled at me."

"Yeah, well, you were being a dickhead."

"Maybe I was."

"No apology."

He sashayed his hand out like I was the queen. "I'm very sorry, Poppy Lawson," he said. "I'm sure you and Mr. Emo are soulmates and will be together for ever."

His words hit something in me and I got a sudden horrid feeling in my stomach that something was wrong.

"Does your silence mean my apology has been rejected?" Frank was giving me a quizzical look.

I shook my head. "Umm...no...it's fine. I forgive you."

"Poppy, are you okay?"

No. Something terrible is going to happen.

"I'm fine." I grabbed my bag and prepared to get off the train. "You coming?"

Frank stood up and stretched. His rugby shirt rose slightly, showing just the lowest part of his midriff. He caught me looking, and rather than joke about me perving, he just blushed and pulled his shirt down.

"Yeah," he sighed. "I'm coming."

"He fancies you," Noah announced, swinging his hand in mine as he walked.

"It's not like that. I'm not his type."

"Poppy." He steered me left. "You're most guys' type. Beautiful, smart, funny. What's not to like?"

I blushed. "You don't understand. We're just friends."

"For you, maybe."

"I don't agree."

"Well, I think he fancies you."

"Well, I don't think you're being very supportive of my problem."

"How can I be? You're basically telling me another guy fancies you."

"HE DOESN'T FANCY ME!"

A passing jogger looked at us in shock and Noah burst out laughing.

"Okay. Calm down, gorgeous."

"How can I be calm? You won't take my side AND you're making me go bowling."

Something peculiar had happened after the ballet and it was beginning to piss me off. When Noah and I did manage to see each other between rehearsals, he kept picking the unsexiest dates you could think of. They were always in the daytime. We were never alone. First there was the pancake house, then we went shopping, then for coffee, and now we were frickin' bowling.

"Seriously, Noah, no one bowls any more," I told him, as we walked up to Middletown's bowling alley.

"Then why are there bowling alleys?"

"To personally torture me with."

Noah stuck out his tongue. "It might be fun."

"Nothing involving shoes that ugly can be considered fun."

He grabbed my arm, pulled me inside and paid for two games.

We handed over our shoes to the grumpiest woman in the history of the world, who swapped my red ballet pumps for sweaty clown shoes.

"Isn't one game enough torture?" I hissed to him, slipping my foot in. "Eww! These are still warm."

Noah only laughed. "You look sexy in them."

"Shut up."

But, putting the ugly shoes to one side, I cheered up considerably the moment I bowled a strike on my first go.

"Woohoo!" I screeched, jumping up in the air in celebration. "Did you see that? I'm officially amazing."

Noah nodded in appreciation. "Lucky shot."

"Not lucky. Skilful."