Sunburnt Veils by Sara Haghdoosti

Author:Sara Haghdoosti
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: book, YFB, YAF014000
ISBN: 9781743058299
Publisher: Wakefield Press
Published: 2021-04-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

He was waiting for me outside the pub, wearing a red plaid shirt over a loose white tank, leaning against the sandstone wall. His head tilted towards the stars. The glow of the streetlight caught his hair, accentuated the curl. Then he looked up and smiled. It wasn’t a big, toothy grin, just a curve of his lips—but that look, the way he took me in, the way his eyes shone, made me want to giggle with glee.

‘You look …’ He stopped, took a breath. ‘Hi.’

Now that I was closer, I could see it wasn’t the light that made his hair curlier. It was damp. I fidgeted with my phone to keep my fingers from itching towards his head.

‘Run here in a hurry, did you?’ I said, trying to keep it light, like the sparks between us were no big deal.

He brushed one of the curls behind his ear with his fingers.

‘Nah, ducked in at Redleaf for a quick swim. Needed to cool down.’ He said the last two words slowly, holding my gaze.

‘Oh,’ I said, unable to keep a ridiculously big smile from spreading across my face.

There was so much I wanted to say to him. That I couldn’t stop thinking about him, that I wanted to throttle Mitra for interrupting this afternoon when I was sure he was about to kiss me.

‘A bunch of my mates are inside. They’d disown me if I disappeared without buying my round.’ He shifted on his feet. ‘Is it okay with you if we hang out here for a bit?’

He wanted me to meet his friends. Butterflies danced in my stomach as I nodded. I could still feel the energy of the dance party, that freedom and fragility. It pushed me to stay in the moment. He offered me his hand. I took it.

Bodies were sardined into the pub. We had to push through friends and conversations to get through the crowd. I almost tripped when my foot caught a hole in the carpet, which was still a dull emerald beneath the grime. The whole place still smelt of smoke, the odour somehow lingering, though smoking inside had been banned for a decade. Alex helped me weave through the crowd and push out to the courtyard. I breathed in the fresh air. Fairy lights were garlanded through tree branches and over picnic benches and pop beats played above the chatter of the tables.

Alex’s friends waved us over, their faces flushed and decorated with big alcohol-fuelled grins.

I spotted Pete and smiled. He smiled back, nodding. Alex nudged one of his friends aside as he slid onto a bench at the table and made room for me to join him. He introduced me to Scott and Ben, who with their glasses and vintage-print shirts, had the whole laid-back librarian chic look down. I realised they were the same guys who’d been hanging out with him that first day, at Manning.

‘This is Tara.’

‘Hey,’ I beamed. Alex didn’t let go of my hand.

‘So what are your intentions for our boy Alex here?’ Pete said, giving me a deadpan look.

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