her friends would have put it. She felt like she’d known him all her life – he was just another of the annoying lads in her year, but that had changed when they’d started sixth form. After a brief flirtation with Harley Morton – the main attraction being that he was new to the school – Annie’s attention had been drawn to Tom. Surprisingly he was interested in politics and music, and her. And there was something very appealing about being the focus of his attention. Of course, she’d been teased by some of the girls and shunned by others because she’d not been the only one to notice the change in the head’s son, so she’d spent four months keeping him at arm’s length. Her focus had been her mock exams – her grades, her escape plan – but, exams over, she promised herself that she’d explore the possibility of a relationship with Tom despite, or perhaps because of, her mum’s objections.

‘I’m off,’ Annie said, tightening the shoulder straps of her rucksack; even though she only had to carry it as far as the car the gesture seemed to add intent to her statement.

‘Give us a hug, then.’ Her mum stepped forward and held her arms out for what turned into an awkward embrace due to the heavy rucksack. ‘And text me.’

‘I will. There might not be much signal out in the wilds of Northumberland though.’

And then she was free. Out of the house and walking towards the car where Keely’s mum was waiting next to the open boot.

The drive to Carlisle was spent listening to Keely’s pleas for forgiveness and Tom’s explanation of why he’d been picked up early. Keely’s mum seemed to find the whole thing hilarious and, not for the first time, Annie found herself wishing that her own mum was a bit more chilled.

By the time they were standing on the pedestrian bridge over the River Eden in Rickerby Park, Keely was forgiven and their small group had split into two pairs – Jess and Keely in front with the guide book and the map, Annie and Tom following, deep in conversation.

‘I’m not sure about these boots,’ Tom said, stopping and looking round as though he were in a shoe shop and wanted to try on a different pair.

‘Blisters?’ Annie asked. Her own feet were feeling a bit sore, but she didn’t want to admit it to the others. They’d made good time for the first few miles and she didn’t want to slow them down.

‘Not sure. I think I need to have a look.’

‘Hey!’ Annie yelled to Jess and Keely who were a couple of hundred yards ahead. She made the ‘time out’ sign with her hands and felt instantly stupid. Who did that?

The two girls wandered back and stood over Tom who was sitting on the grass verge examining his left heel.

‘Bloody blister!’ he announced. ‘Anybody got any plasters?’

‘I’ve got some blister plasters. My mum insisted.’ Annie took off her rucksack and rummaged around in the top pocket. ‘You’ll have to put it on yourself though – no way I’m touching your feet.’

Jess sniggered and muttered something to Keely about ‘touching something else’. Annie thought about protesting but decided there really was no point. She did fancy Tom so why be embarrassed?

The repair seemed to hold and they managed to reach the first campsite – behind a pub in a gloomy dip in the path – only an hour later than planned, leaving plenty of time for dinner and to share the two cans of cider that Tom had nobly offered to carry for twelve miles.

And then it was time for bed.

Annie had spent the last two miles of the walk working out how to get from her own tent to Tom’s without disturbing Jess. Should she wait until the other girl fell asleep and then sneak out? She could pretend that she needed the loo and not go back, hoping that Jess would have fallen back to sleep. What was the point of pretending though?

She took a last swig of cider, marched over to the tent she was supposed to be sleeping in and grabbed her sleeping bag.

‘Judge me in the morning, bitches,’ she said, grinning at the shocked faces of her friends as she unzipped Tom’s tent and crawled inside.

Annie avoided Jess and Keely for as long as she could the next morning. She didn’t feel embarrassed or ashamed, she just didn’t want to face their inevitable questions. They’d want to know if she and Tom had ‘done it’ but Annie didn’t feel the need to explain that, while they’d not done ‘it’, they’d done ‘stuff’.

It had been Tom who’d suggested they wait. He’d argued that the campsite wasn’t exactly private and, as neither of them had condoms, it wasn’t the ideal situation and was far from romantic with their friends only a few yards away. Annie had been surprised by his consideration and concern and was glad that neither of them had felt pressured.

‘So?’ Jess asked, pouncing on Annie as she left the shower block. ‘How was it?’

Annie smiled. ‘Nice.’

‘Nice? No fireworks? No screaming for Jesus?’

‘Jess, it’s private and I’m not going to discuss the details. Tom’s lovely and we respect each other.’

‘So, you just cuddled?’ Jess’s dark brown eyes sparkled with glee.

Annie grinned again and flicked Jess with the end of her damp towel.

‘Ouch! Cow!’ Jess stepped back, keeping Annie at arm’s length.

‘Oh, shit!’ Annie grabbed for her, but she was just too late. Jess missed the last step down from the door to the shower block and landed awkwardly in the dust next to the flagstone path.

‘You okay?’ Annie asked crouching next to her friend, dismayed to see that the other girl was close to tears.

‘I don’t think so,’ Jess said. ‘I went over on my ankle.’ She got tentatively to her feet and tried to walk back to her tent but only managed a single tiny step before sitting down again.

‘Ow! Ow! Ow! I think

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