Before we had a name

A conversation begins

Chapter 2 -the conversation begins

The alarm on my bedside table went off at exactly seven o'clock.

I reached over, silenced it and buried my face back into my pillow.

Five more minutes.

That was all I wanted.

"Angel!"

Mom's voice drifted up the stairs.

"If you don't get up now, you'll be late!"

I sighed into my pillow.

"So much for five more minutes."

Dragging myself out of bed, I pulled the curtains apart. The sky was a dull grey, with thick clouds hanging over Manchester. Typical. It looked like it might rain, or it might not. The weather never seemed to make up its mind.

After getting dressed, I wandered downstairs, where the smell of toast filled the kitchen.

My younger brother, Noah, was already sitting at the table, one earbud in, completely absorbed in whatever was on his phone. Across from him, my little sister, Lily, was dramatically flipping through her homework as though glaring at the pages might somehow finish it for her.

"I hate Mondays," Lily groaned.

"It's Wednesday," I reminded her as I poured myself a glass of orange juice.

She blinked.

"Oh."

Noah laughed.

"That's embarrassing."

"Says the person who wore two different socks yesterday."

"It was a fashion statement."

"It was a mistake."

Mom smiled as she placed a plate of toast in front of me.

"Eat before it goes cold."

"Thanks, Mom."

Breakfast was always noisy. Noah had a joke for everything, Lily could turn the smallest inconvenience into a full speech, and Mom somehow kept us all organised without looking flustered.

I liked mornings like this.

For a little while, life felt simple.

When I finished eating, Mom looked at me.

"Straight home after your preparation course today."

"I will."

"And don't forget the milk."

"I won't."

She smiled, satisfied with my answer, and I grabbed my bag before heading out.

The walk to the bus stop was colder than I'd expected. I shoved my hands into my coat pockets and waited as the familiar red bus pulled up. By the time I reached the preparation centre, Chloe was already standing outside with Sophie.

"There she is," Chloe announced dramatically. "The girl who nearly made us start without her."

"I was two minutes early."

"You were one minute late."

Sophie laughed. "You two argue about the strangest things."

"It's called healthy friendship," Chloe replied.

"It's called you enjoying being difficult."

"I do enjoy it."

I shook my head, laughing as we walked inside together.

The classroom was busier than usual. Conversations bounced from one corner of the room to another as students compared homework and complained about the amount of revision they'd done.

I scanned the room without thinking.

Then I saw him.

Ethan was sitting by the window, absent-mindedly tapping a pen against his notebook. As if he sensed someone watching, he looked up.

Our eyes met.

He gave a small nod.

Not a wave.

Not some overly enthusiastic greeting.

Just a quiet nod that somehow felt... nice.

I smiled back before following Chloe and Sophie to our seats.

"Someone's in a good mood," Chloe whispered.

"I always am."

"Mm-hm."

"I don't like that 'mm-hm'."

"It means I'm observing."

"You're imagining things."

"Maybe."

She grinned before opening her notebook.

The lesson began, and for the next hour my attention shifted between equations on the whiteboard and the tutor's explanations. Every so often, I caught Ethan making a sarcastic comment under his breath that made the student beside him laugh.

He wasn't loud.

He didn't try to be the centre of attention.

But when he spoke, people listened.

During the short break, I headed towards the vending machines in the corridor.

The machine swallowed my coins.

"Seriously?"

I pressed the button again.

Nothing.

"I think it's protesting."

I turned to find Ethan standing a few steps away, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.

"It's refusing to give me my drink."

"It has standards."

I laughed.

"So you're saying I'm the problem?"

"I'm saying the machine has excellent judgement."

I folded my arms.

"You know, you're not very helpful."

"I never claimed to be."

For a second, we simply stood there looking at the stubborn vending machine.

Then, without another word, Ethan pressed a different button.

A bottle of water dropped into the tray.

"There."

I stared at him.

"How did you do that?"

"I asked nicely."

"No, really."

He picked up the bottle and handed it to me.

"Machines like confidence."

I narrowed my eyes.

"You're making that up."

"I'll never tell."

I laughed, shaking my head as we walked back towards the classroom together.

"You've got a strange sense of humour."

"I've heard worse reviews."

"I can imagine."

"My grandmother once said I was an acquired taste."

"And were you offended?"

"Not really."

"Were you always this sarcastic?"

"No."

"So what happened?"

He looked ahead with a perfectly straight face.

"I developed a personality."

I couldn't help it.

I laughed so loudly that a few students turned to look at us.

For some reason, that didn't bother me.

Neither did the fact that talking to Ethan felt surprisingly easy.

It was strange.

We'd only known each other for a few days.

Yet somehow, it already felt as though we'd skipped past the awkward stage of getting to know each other.

Maybe some friendships were just like that.

Part two

The second half of the lesson passed more quickly than the first, although I couldn't have told you a single equation we'd covered.

I blamed the weather.

Or the lack of sleep.

Definitely not the boy sitting three rows ahead of me who somehow managed to make sarcastic comments without getting caught.

"...and that's why you always check your answers," the tutor concluded, placing the marker back on the desk.

"Right, everyone. I'll see you on Friday."

Chairs scraped against the floor as students packed their bags.

"Finally," Chloe sighed, stretching her arms. "If I look at another equation today, I might actually cry."

"You say that every lesson," Sophie said.

"Because every lesson gives me a new reason."

I laughed as we walked into the corridor together.

"I'll meet you two outside," Chloe said. "I'm buying crisps."

"And I'm making sure she doesn't buy half the vending machine," Sophie added.

The moment they disappeared around the corner, I felt someone walking beside me.

"Your friends are funny."

I looked up.

"Ethan."

"Last time I checked."

I smiled.

"I meant... hello."

"I assumed as much."

We walked towards the exit without saying anything for a few seconds.

The silence wasn't uncomfortable.

It was the kind that didn't demand to be filled.

"So," he said eventually, "have you always been interested in astrology?"

I looked at him in surprise.

"How did you know that?"

"You mentioned your horoscope this morning."

"Oh."

"And during class you had little stars doodled in the corner of your notebook."

My mouth fell open.

"You noticed that?"

"I notice things."

"That's... slightly concerning."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

I laughed.

"It wasn't meant to be."

"It is now."

We stepped outside.

The air smelled like rain, even though the sky had started to clear.

"I know people think astrology is silly," I admitted, "but I don't believe it controls my life."

"No?"

I shook my head.

"I just think it's interesting. Sometimes it helps me understand why people behave the way they do."

"So if I tell you my birthday..."

"I'll probably guess your star sign."

"And then you'll judge me?"

"I'll analyse you."

"That sounds worse."

"It probably is."

He smiled.

"So what have you analysed about me so far?"

I pretended to think about it.

"Hmm..."

"That bad?"

"No."

I folded my arms.

"You're observant."

"I'll accept that."

"You think before you speak."

"Usually."

"You've got a strange sense of humour."

"I've accepted that."

"And..."

"And?"

"I think you're kinder than you let people see."

For the first time since we'd met, Ethan didn't have a clever reply.

Instead, he looked at me for a moment before letting out a quiet laugh.

"That's... surprisingly accurate."

"I know."

"Confident."

"I prefer 'perceptive'."

"Of course you do."

"My turn."

I nodded.

"Go on."

He looked at me thoughtfully.

"You smile when you're nervous."

"I do not."

"You just did."

"I smiled because you're wrong."

"You keep saying that."

"Because you keep being wrong."

"Hmm."

"What does 'hmm' mean?"

"It means I'm deciding whether to prove my point."

"You can't."

"I probably can."

"Oh?"

"You also apologise when something isn't your fault."

I blinked.

"...What?"

"You apologised to the vending machine earlier."

"I did not."

"You literally said, 'Sorry,' after it stole your money."

Heat rushed to my face.

"Oh my goodness..."

"I rest my case."

I covered my face with my hands, laughing.

"Please tell me you imagined that."

"I wish I had."

"That's embarrassing."

"I thought it was quite wholesome."

I lowered my hands.

"You weren't supposed to notice."

"I told you."

He smiled.

"I notice things."

For some reason, hearing him say that didn't make me uncomfortable.

It made me feel... seen.

Not judged.

Just seen.

We'd reached the front gates before either of us realised we'd walked past Chloe and Sophie, who were waiting near the bus stop.

"There you are!" Chloe called. "I was about to file a missing person's report."

"I think that would be a bit dramatic," Ethan said.

"So is she," Chloe replied, pointing at me.

"I am not."

"You apologised to a vending machine once."

I whipped my head towards Ethan.

"You told them?"

He looked genuinely offended.

"I didn't."

Chloe frowned.

"Wait... you actually did?"

Sophie's shoulders shook as she tried not to laugh.

I sighed dramatically.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Chloe burst into laughter.

"I love this story already."

"I hate all of you."

"No, you don't," Sophie said gently.

I smiled.

She was right.

I didn't.

A bus pulled up at the kerb.

Chloe nudged my shoulder.

"That's ours."

I nodded before turning back to Ethan.

"I'll see you on Friday?"

"If you're lucky."

I grinned.

"You stole my line."

"I thought I'd borrow it."

"Borrow implies you'll return it."

"I'll think about it."

There was a brief pause before Ethan rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost... unsure of himself.

"Actually..."

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering..."

He gave a small, almost embarrassed smile.

"Could I have your number?"

For the first time that afternoon, I was the one who didn't answer straight away.

Not because I didn't want to.

Because my brain had already started racing.

Why does he want my number?

Is he just being friendly?

Angel, stop overthinking.

"Only if you promise not to send me terrible maths questions at midnight," I teased.

"I can't promise that."

"I knew it."

He unlocked his phone and handed it to me.

I typed in my number, saved my name, and gave it back.

"There."

He looked at the screen.

"'Angel.'"

"What else was I supposed to put?"

He pretended to think.

"I was hoping for something a little more exciting."

"You haven't earned that privilege yet."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Fair enough."

The bus doors opened.

"I should go."

"Yeah."

"I'll see you Friday."

"You will."

I climbed onto the bus and found my usual seat by the window.

As the bus pulled away, I glanced outside.

Ethan was still standing at the stop.

He looked down at his phone for a second before slipping it back into his pocket.

For some reason...

I had a feeling that wouldn't be the last conversation we'd have that day.

That evening, just after seven, my phone buzzed.

Ethan:

You laughed at my jokes today.

That's either a compliment... or your sense of humour needs serious help.

I couldn't stop smiling.

Me: Definitely the second one.

His reply came almost instantly.

Ethan: Brilliant.

We're both doomed.

Part three

That evening, just after seven, my phone buzzed.

Ethan

You laughed at my jokes today.

That's either a compliment... or your sense of humour needs serious help.

I smiled before I could stop myself.

Me: Definitely the second one.

The three little dots appeared almost instantly.

Ethan: Brilliant.

We're both doomed.

I laughed quietly, shaking my head.

There was something strangely effortless about talking to him. We'd only known each other for a few days, yet texting him didn't feel awkward in the way texting someone new usually did.

I typed another reply

Me: You've accepted your fate rather quickly.

His response came less than a minute later.

Ethan: Resistance seemed pointless.

I stared at the message, smiling to myself.

He's ridiculous.

Before I could think of a reply, another message appeared.

Ethan: Have you recovered from your traumatic experience with the vending machine?

I laughed.

Me: I'm choosing to believe it was broken.

Ethan: It worked perfectly for me.

Me: Don't start.

Ethan: I'm just saying... it clearly had something against you.

Me: You're actually defending a vending machine?

Ethan: Someone has to.

I shook my head, laughing at my phone.

There was no reason that conversation should have been so funny.

But somehow...

It was.

I laughed so loudly that Noah poked his head through my bedroom door.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing."

He narrowed his eyes.

"You've said 'nothing' while smiling at your phone."

"I can smile at my phone."

"You never smile at your phone."

"I do."

"When?"

"...Sometimes."

He folded his arms dramatically.

"Who's the boy?"

"There isn't a boy."

"There is definitely a boy."

Before I could answer, Lily squeezed past him and wandered into my room carrying a teddy bear almost as big as she was.

"Can I borrow your coloured pencils?"

"They're in the second drawer."

She opened it, found them immediately and smiled.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

As she skipped back towards the door, Noah looked at me again.

"I'm going to find out eventually."

"You should focus on your homework instead."

"I can do both."

"You really can't."

He sighed dramatically before leaving.

"Fine."

"But secrets always come out."

The moment the door closed, my phone buzzed again.

Ethan: I'm guessing someone interrupted you.

I frowned.

Me: How did you know?

Ethan: You usually reply faster.

I paused.

He'd noticed that already?

Me: My little brother decided to investigate my life.

Ethan: And?

Me: He thinks I'm texting a boy.

There was a longer pause this time.

Long enough for me to wonder whether I'd said something strange.

Then his reply appeared.

Ethan: Technically... you are.

I stared at the screen.

Then I laughed.

Not because it was particularly clever.

Because it was true.

Me: Don't encourage him.

Ethan: Too late.

I placed my phone on the bed beside me and leaned back against my pillow.

It was strange.

Just a week ago, Ethan Foster had been another student in a classroom full of strangers.

Now, somehow, he was the reason I couldn't stop smiling at my phone.

I wasn't thinking about romance.

I wasn't imagining a future.

I simply liked talking to him.

Sometimes, I think that's how the most important people enter your life.

Not with fireworks.

Not with grand speeches.

Just one conversation at a time.

Outside, rain began to fall against my bedroom window.

I reached over and switched off the lamp beside my bed.

My phone buzzed one last time.

Ethan: Goodnight, Angel.

I smiled in the darkness.

Me: Goodnight, Foster.

It was the first time I'd called him by his surname.

For some reason...

It felt right.