Josh is waiting for me next to the entrance of the park, his hands buried deep in his jeans pockets. His dark hair shimmers in the moonlight. I run to him. He lifts me up, kisses me. I press my face into his soft hoody; breathe in his soapy scent.
Together, we climb over the railings like fierce, wild rabbits. We run down the path hand in hand, laughing. The park is dark – trees and bushes hidden in shadows – but we find a spot on the bank leading down to the playground. Here moonlight shines over the neatly mown grass. We sink to the ground, breathless, and I pull out the picnic blanket from the basket.
‘What’s this?’ Josh asks.
‘A feast,’ I tell him, taking out the containers of curry. ‘My mum’s food. You won’t have tasted anything like it.’
We settle down on the blanket. Josh reaches for a samosa and bites into it. I take one too, bite into the crisp pastry, the spicy lamb.
‘Oh my God! How have I not tried your mum’s food until now?’ Josh asks. ‘You could have snuck me some before!’
I look out towards the city lights beyond the park. ‘I guess I’ve always been a bit embarrassed,’ I confess.
‘Embarrassed? About what?’
I stare down at my samosa and think of all the times I’ve changed my clothes before going out because they’ve smelled of Mum’s cooking, of curry. ‘Well, about being different,’ I confess.
Josh doesn’t say anything. I force myself to look up at him again. ‘All I ever wanted was to be different from everyone else,’ he says. ‘It makes you special, Neena Gill.’
I gaze into Josh’s eyes. I’m so happy right now, with the whole world locked outside those gates. No one can reach us here. None of the day’s events seem real. It’s perfection. We grin at each other, eat in silence, dipping rotis into the daal, sharing chunks of buttery chicken. We watch the stars and the moon, our legs spread out in front of us. Josh names some of the stars as we eat and it makes me laugh.
‘What is it with you and stars?’ I ask him. ‘Do you seriously want to be an astronaut?’
Josh shrugs. ‘Anything that’ll get me far away from here,’ he says. ‘I just think it would be … cool.’
Suddenly I remember us as kids, in primary school, reading out our accounts of what we did in the holidays. We’d all written about things like going to theme parks and getting pet guinea pigs. But Josh had described camping in the garden with his dad, stargazing. How had I forgotten that?
‘I get it,’ I tell him, nodding.
He smiles but then frowns. ‘That was kind of freaky when you came over earlier, wasn’t it?’ He gives a nervous little laugh.
The moonlight seems to dim. I don’t know what to say.
‘But you’re OK now?’ he continues. ‘Aren’t you?’
I don’t tell him I still think the teachers are plotting against me – does that seem freaky to him too? And anyway I don’t want one of our last nights together to be weird or serious or sad. I just want it to be happy. ‘Yes, I’m OK,’ I tell him. ‘I feel … normal.’
Josh smiles again and I cheer up a bit. ‘Talking about normal … I know we’ve talked about this, and that it’s tricky, but I’d love to take you on a proper date. I don’t know – to the cinema, or dinner, or even just for a walk … Anything. Can we find a way?’
I rub the back of my neck. I feel hot. ‘I don’t know,’ I tell him. What if Mum and Dad catch me? Send me to Pakistan immediately? ‘But I … I’ll have a think … I do want to … But …’ My neck is getting hotter.
Josh leans into me; plants soft kisses on my neck. ‘It’s OK,’ he whispers. ‘I just thought I’d ask. But really it’s OK.’
‘It is?’
‘Of course.’
He continues to kiss my neck. They feel so good, his kisses. No one’s kisses will ever make me feel like this. I close my eyes. Josh kisses my ear. My cheek. My mouth. I kiss him back.
But then, for some reason, I think about Jay. ‘I have to tell you something,’ I say to Josh. ‘Something I should’ve told you a long time ago.’
‘Sure.’ Josh raises his eyebrows. Waits.
‘I … I …’ But I can’t tell him. It won’t come out.
For a moment, I think I see Akash in the distance, standing under some branches. But, when I blink, there’s nothing there. Just shadows. I wish he’d come and see me right now. I just want a hug from him. I look back at Josh.
‘What is it?’ he asks.
I want to cry, but I smile instead. ‘I want to kiss you forever,’ I say.
Josh smiles too. He leans forward and kisses me again. When he stops and looks me in the eyes, he laughs. ‘I can’t believe we’re in the middle of a park, having a picnic at midnight!’ he says, shaking his head. ‘This is definitely the craziest thing I’ve ever done for love.’
‘Love?’ I say, and it comes out light and breathless. Am I hearing him right?
He laughs again. ‘Isn’t it obvious? I’ve loved you for years, Neens. Ever since you held my hand when I fell off that bike in primary school and the other kids laughed. Remember?’
I nod. I remember! I do!
Josh tilts his head towards the dark sky, the stars, the moon. ‘I love you, Neena Gill!’ he howls.
I laugh. I want to say it back but I can’t speak. All I can do is kiss him, and hold on to his words. I let them wrap themselves round me like a blanket, soft and warm. Josh loves me. He loves me!
My alarm rings in my ears like a siren. I jump out of bed. Pull on trousers. Shirt. Sweatshirt. No time for a shower. I need to get to school: I can’t wait to see Josh and I need to show Miss Taylor my essay to prove I’m not a cheat. I rub my sore eyes. Another sleepless night, but this time for the most amazing reason …
Josh loves me. He loves me!
I waltz down the hallway to the bathroom. Brush my teeth. Wash my face. But, when I go back to my bedroom, I’m shocked. It’s a total mess. The carpet’s covered in clothes and books and pages and pages of revision notes. The duvet’s been flung to the floor. It’s as if someone snuck in here while I was in the bathroom and messed everything up. I feel dizzy. Unsteady. I need to clean it up. If anything in my life is ever going to be OK, I must sort all this out, get organized.
My phone buzzes as I start cleaning. A message from Fi. Again.
Meet me at breaktime? Nd to talk!
I push my phone aside. ‘I can’t trust Fi. She’s been spying on me for the teachers,’ I remind myself. I focus on tidying up, whizz round the room, folding clothes, putting books on shelves, lining up my shoes against the wall and making my bed again and again until it’s perfect. Getting everything in order. When I stop, I feel much better. I pick up my phone to check the time, but see that I’m late for school! It doesn’t make sense – it seems I was cleaning for five or ten minutes tops, not over an hour. I’ve missed first lesson and now it’s double English, which I absolutely can’t miss. I need to see Miss Taylor. I need to hurry.
But, before I leave, there’s one last thing I have to do. I step up on to my dressing table and take down my framed sky-sea poster. I know my brother gave it to me but that was before. Now I’m not someone who worries. I’m not someone who takes medicine for her anxiety. I don’t need to look at the picture to feel better, or less alone. I tuck it behind my dressing table.