Cinnamon Twigs by Darren Freebury-Jones Page B

happen?’
                  ‘That’s precisely what I ask myself.’ I pulled a clump of grass from the ground and let the blades fall between my fingers.
                  I wished I could replicate Michael’s confidence. I’d been single for a year, and no girl had interested me. Maybe I didn’t have anything in common with this pretty blonde in Gorsedd Gardens, but if I didn’t speak to her I’d never know. She often caught my eye and poked her tongue out.
                  ‘She’s interested in you, mate, c’mon. Ex nihilo nihil fit - nothing’s gonna come out of doing nothing,’ Michael urged me.
                  I strolled towards her as her friends were buying ice creams. She looked up and beamed at me, her eyes like two blue-white diamonds.
                  ‘Hello.’ I winked at her.
                  ‘Well, bonjour .’ 
                  ‘I was just wondering like, if I could get your number?’ I hoped she wouldn’t hear my heart thundering in my chest. Maybe the wink had distracted her.
                  ‘And what would you do with my number?’ She ruffled her velvety hair.
                  ‘Maybe I could give you a call.’
                  ‘Would you like to know my name first?’
                  ‘That might help!’ I laughed.
                  I guess I’d been influenced by Michael’s assertion that names were only for marriage certificates.
                  ‘It’s Lauren.’
                  ‘That’s a very pretty name.’
                  ‘That’s very kind of you. And do you have a pretty name too?’
                  ‘That would be a matter of opinion. My name’s Daniel.’
                  ‘Hmm, I suppose that’s pretty enough.’
                  ‘Biblical, some might say. Where are you from?’ I asked.
                  ‘I was born in North Wales, but I’ve lived most of my life in Salisbury.’
                  ‘Have I seen you in my English Literature lectures?’
                  ‘Probably. I’m sure I’ve spotted you doodling in the back row. You should be studying Art instead; you’re a regular Jackson Pollock. I do a Joint Honors Degree with Law.’
                  ‘So, you like to read?’
                  ‘Oh God, what kind of dalliant question is that?’ She giggled. ‘You’re not too good at this game, are you? I like to read books, and I like reading people.’
                  ‘I take it you’re reading me right now?’ I grinned.
                  ‘Like an open book.’
                  ‘And what do you think of the first chapter?’
                  ‘You’re very good at putting out a confident image. But it’s taken you ages to talk to me.’
                  ‘I was just biding my time.’
                  ‘Oh, really!’
                  ‘What’s your number?’
                  ‘Ah, yes…’ She read her mobile number out for me.
                  ‘I’ll give you a call.’
                  ‘Does that mean you’re going to take me out?’
                  ‘Well, yeah. If that’s okay with you?’
                  ‘Of course. I look forward to seeing how good a read chapter two is.’
                  ‘Oh, it’s riveting.’ I floated towards Michael as Lauren’s friends came back with their ice creams.
                  The next rosy-fingered morning, while on the service bus to university, I gazed out of the window at the clear blue sky, and doubted it could ever turn grey again. 
                 
    CHAPTER SIXTEEN
    Talking Chemistry
     
    Lauren and I text each other over the