I stand awkwardly, bopping my head, arms moving side to side like an idiot. But I can still see people looking, or more specifically, people looking at Kath. One of the football lads leans in towards her, trying to shout something in her ear. I have to clench my jaw and remind myself not to step in.
She’s not mine. She’s never been mine.
I wouldn’t be good for her, anyway. Actually, I wouldn’t be good for anyone. I barely have time to keep up with my schoolwork, let alone be there for someone else. Swimming takes up all my time, more so than it ever used to. And I’m not even on the same continent as her.
Something slower starts, and Kath hooks her arms around my neck. My hands land on her waist before I can stop them.
“I know you can do better than that.” She forces me to sway with her.
Time seems to fold in on itself and blur. It reminds me of that school disco all those years ago, dancing awkwardly in the gym. Except instead of Robbie Williams’ ‘Angels’ this is Ed Sheeran. Different song. Same girl. Same stupid grin on my face. Maybe dancing isn’t so bad if you have the right partner.
“You know, I think you’re bigger than when you left.” Her fingers brush my arm like she’s testing the difference.
I swallow hard at her touch. “Yeah? Coach has us doing a lot of weights. I’m still one of the smaller guys, though.”
Her hand curls back up around my neck, playing with the loose strands of hair, and I shiver. It feels too good. And it just reminds me of all the things I can’t have. I think I must make a face because she suddenly pulls back.
“Oh shit,” she blurts. “Do you have a girlfriend? Should we not be dancing?”
It’s like a bucket of cold water.
“What? No—of course not,” I say quickly, horrified she’d even think that. “I don’t do girlfriends, remember? That’s the whole reason… No. Definitely not.”
She exhales, then shakes her head, muttering, “God, I’m such an idiot.” Her hand slips from my arm, and for a second I think she’s about to leave.
I catch her wrist gently. “Kath—”
She looks up, cheeks flushed from more than the dancing. For a second, the air between us changes, and I’m sure she’s going to close the gap. My pulse hammers, waiting, wanting—
“We should go home,” Kath mumbles. “I’ve got to be up early to write an essay tomorrow anyway.”
“But it’s the Christmas holidays…”
She just shrugs and heads off to say goodbye to her friends. A few minutes later, we’re outside in the cold, her arm tucked through mine as we weave down the quiet street back towards her accommodation.
“You’re really going to study tomorrow?” I ask once the music has faded behind us.
“Yep, when you’re training. You said you needed to do a pool session, so I thought it would be a good opportunity to go to the library.”
I glance at her. “Kath, it’s the weekend. And it’s the Christmas holidays. You can’tseriously—”
“I have to,” she cuts me off, voice firm. “I want to stay ahead. There’s a mountain of reading I haven’t touched, and I need to make progress on my lab report before I go home next week. Otherwise I’ll fall behind, and I can’t afford that.”
“You’ve been at it non-stop since September,” I remind her. “Every time I call, you’re going to the library or just leaving it. Don’t you ever just… take a day?”
Her breath comes out in a white puff. “If I stop, I’ll lose momentum. And if I lose momentum, I’ll drown.”
There’s no humour in her tone, and the words sit heavy in my chest.
“You know, burning yourself out isn’t going to help either.”
“I’m fine,” she insists.
I let the subject go, but as we climb the stairs to her building, I can’t shake the thought that Kath’s running herself into the ground, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it, because instead of being with her all the time, I’m an ocean away, struggling not to drown too.
When we get back to her room I stare at the queen-sized bed, suddenly feeling awkward. I knew we’d be sharing. There’s no way we could fit a spare mattress in here, but knowing we’d be sharing and actually doing it somehow feels different. Maybe it’s because the last time we shared a bed we were doing a lot more than sleeping in it. But neither of us have brought that up since we ended our arrangement.
Kath goes to the bathroom, and when she comes back I do a double take.