A Kiss in the Dark by Cat Clarke

flowers in one hand, spoon in the other. ‘Don’t you even think about sticking to the bottom of the pan.Don’t you
dare
.’ Yup, she was talking to the rice. It was easy to see where Kate got some of her more eccentric qualities from. As for the rest, I had no idea. She hardly ever talked about her dad.
    Kate took my hand and said, ‘I’m just going to show Alex my room, if that’s OK?’
    I thought Mrs McAllister might have something to say about that – there might be a ‘no boys in the bedroom’ rule – but she just waved us on our way, too busy glaring at the rice.
    Kate led the way along the hall and into her room. It was small and very, very feminine. The walls were pink and the bed was covered with more cushions than there were in my entire flat. There was a white dressing table with a white stool in front of it. There were a few cuddly pandas dotted around the place, the largest of which had pride of place in the middle of the bed.
    ‘It’s a bit babyish, isn’t it?’ Kate sat on the edge of the bed.
    ‘Not at all. It’s … nice.’ It really was. There was something very Kate about it.
    ‘Really? I was going to tidy all those things away – get rid of the pandas, at least, but I decided not to. I … I think I wanted you to see it like this. I didn’t want to pretend to be something I’m not, you know? Ido enough of that at school.’ I sat down next to her and took her hand in mine. ‘I don’t have to pretend with you, Alex.’
    ‘You really don’t.’
    We kissed and I tried to focus on the kissing, pushing the guilt down as far as it would go. It was getting harder and harder to ignore. Whenever she said something like that, I was torn between wanting to punch the air in joy and wanting to drop down to my knees and confess everything. Nothing was simple anymore; every morsel of happiness was slightly tarnished. But even tarnished happiness is better than no happiness at all.
    Kate obviously sensed that I wasn’t feeling it, and she pulled away and looked at me questioningly.
    ‘Your mum seems really nice.’
    ‘Wow. You’re thinking about my mum when I’m kissing you? I’m clearly going to have to work on my technique.’
    I gave her a withering look. ‘Your technique’s just fine and you know it! I could kiss you forever and never get tired of it.’ Saying something soppy often seemed like the best way to distract her.
    ‘You do realize that you’re about as smooth as sandpaper, don’t you?’ She kissed my nose. ‘But I appreciate the sentiment.’
    ‘I appreciate your appreciating.’
    ‘I appreciate your appreciating my appreciating … Now this is just getting silly.’ She looked towards the door like she was using X-ray vision to check her mum wasn’t earwigging on the other side. ‘Right, here’s the lowdown: there’s nothing Mum likes more than good manners, so try not to talk with your mouth full or put your elbows on the table … not that you would – I’m just saying! Try not to talk about religion if you don’t want her to go off on one and quiz you about what you do and don’t believe. Um … other things to avoid … let me see … probably best to steer clear of politics. And she’s a total feminist, just so you know.’
    ‘You’re babbling again.’ I stroked the back of her hand with my thumb. ‘You told me to tell you when you babbled.’
    ‘Sorry. I know. I’m just … I was feeling fine about this – looking forward to it, even – but now that you’re here I just really, really want it to go well. I want you two to get along.’
    I pulled her into my embrace and held her tight. ‘There’s nothing to worry about, OK? Everything’s going to be fine.’ I said this as much to reassure myself as to reassure Kate.
    ‘DINNER!’ Mrs McAllister’s yell was loud enough to summon diners within a five-mile radius.
    I tried to remember my words as we headed into the kitchen.
There’s nothing to worry about. Everything’s going to be