Everything is Changed by Nova Weetman Page B

wanting any of the people walking past to stop and listen in.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜The girl. His …’
    Alex leans so close I can see the gold of his blazer buttons gleaming in the sun. ‘I know who you mean.’ Before the man, Alex didn’t get angry very often. But under that poxy fringe, his eyes are cold.
    I suddenly feel defensive, like I want him to understand. ‘I wanted to see her. Talk to her. See if she’s okay.’
    â€˜And did you take her out for a coffee? Buy her some flowers?’
    I shake my head, feeling ridiculous. ‘I didn’t talk to her … but I could … I know where she lives now. She’s just round the corner from you. You probably walk past her on your way to school.’
    Alex stares at me, making me look down at the ground.
    â€˜Jake, this isn’t anything to do with me anymore. You can do what you like, but leave me out of it,’ he says, slipping his hands into the pockets on his blazer like he’s cold.
    â€˜But it is, Alex. Whether you like it or not.’
    He shakes his head. ‘Nah. It’s not. I’ve moved on.’
    Now it’s my turn to be angry. ‘Moved on? How do you move on?’
    â€˜I don’t know. Just forget about it. You can’t change it.’
    â€˜I can fess up. So can you. Go to the police—’ I start to say.
    â€˜No. No police.’ He jumps up, swinging his backpack onto his shoulder and hitting me across the arm with it. Then he starts walking away, like this is over.
    â€˜It’s. Not. My. Fault!’ I yell at his disappearing back in its snug-fitting blazer and ridiculous grey shorts.
    He doesn’t even turn around. He just raises his hand in the air and gives me the finger.
    My eye is still throbbing and I know it’ll be black by tonight. And even though I’m not cold at all, I wrap my arms tight around myself and start to cry. Hopefully salty tears are good for a punched eye.

alex
    Sass helped me pick out the present. I’m not 100 per cent sure that it’s what Ellie will want, but Sass assured me that all the girls at her school would love them, so I went with it. Sass even helped me gift-wrap it because she said my fingers were too big to make the bow look dainty.
    Ellie loves that she’s a couple of months older than me. She keeps calling herself the older woman. Except that she’s tiny. Her head tucks under my chin and my fingers reach around her wrist. She never seems tiny. She’s strong and fierce and more independent than I’ll ever be. And now she’s sixteen.
    I wanted to take her to this posh restaurant Dad took me to a couple of weeks back but it’s not open for lunch on a Sunday, and Ellie’s parents weren’t all that happy about her going out on a school night so now I’m meeting her at this other place that I hope is okay. Again, I checked with my little sister and she said it was great. Not that she’d have any idea, because basically she lives on cheese pasta, but she liked the sound of it. It has a fancy French name so that’s something.
    Ellie’s late. It’s nothing new. She’s always late, but for some reason today it makes me nervous. We’ve been dating for ages and I’m never nervous with her. In fact she’s the only person I know that makes me completely comfortable. Maybe this feeling of nerves has nothing to do with her. Maybe it’s because I’m wearing a suit and I don’t like the feel of the jacket on my shoulders, and I wish I’d just worn jeans and a shirt.
    And then I see her. She’s half running and half skipping down the other side of the road, dodging people walking towards her. She looks all frazzled like she knows she’s running late and she’s trying not to, and just the sight of her makes me grin. I want to call out but I don’t want her to know I’m watching her so I wait until she gets close enough to see