‘I’ve been waiting for days!’ her mother cried.

‘For...’

‘You went to speak to Norah, and you’ve not said a peep since.’

Poppy was trying to be stoic about it. She wanted to enjoy her new little secret. But she should have known her mother wouldn’t let that happen, the nosy mare.

‘Mum, I’m...’

‘Was it tough? Do you want to get it out? You can have a cry, love,’ her mother said gently.

Poppy folded her arms. ‘You’re assuming I got rejected?’

Her mother’s eyes widened in horror. ‘Oh. Um... I mean, no.  It’s just because you didn’t say anything. I thought that meant you were feeling sad about it.’

‘It’s private, that’s all.’

Her mother’s interest was piqued. ‘Is it? How private, exactly?’

‘Stop being such a sticky beak, would you?’

Her mother began to smirk. ‘OK, Pop. I’ll say no more about it.’

‘And stop looking like that,’ Poppy cried.

Her mother turned back to the dishwasher. ‘I think I have all the information I need. For now.’

‘You don’t know anything.’

‘OK. Sure.’

‘Cut that out.’

Her mother put her hands in the air. ‘I’m a closed book on the subject. Anyway, what would you like for dinner? That’s if you have time. You might need to be getting out soon?’ she asked neutrally. However, the question was anything but—she was fishing.

‘Yes, I’m going out. I’m gonna grab something,’ Poppy said casually.

‘Out. Yes. With the band, I expect?’ her mother said, getting glasses out and placing them on the side.

‘I’m not saying anything else,’ Poppy told her firmly.

‘No, of course not.’

Poppy headed upstairs to shower and get ready. She could hear her mother laughing to herself.

***

Poppy texted Norah to say she was outside. She wouldn’t have rung the bell at gunpoint.

Norah came to the door. ‘Hi,’ she said with a lovely shy smile.

‘Hi. Your mum about?’ Poppy asked nervously.

‘No, don’t worry. She’s at her book club,’ she said, stepping back to allow Poppy entry.

Poppy tried not to seem relieved as she walked in. ‘Your mum’s in a book club?’

‘She says she is. But I’ve never actually seen her read anything besides the TV guide. Do you want a coffee?’ Norah asked.

Coffee breath? Poppy didn’t need that. Not with her hopes for the evening. ‘Water would be good if that’s OK?’

They went into Norah’s kitchen, which was identical in shape to Poppy's, if a lot fresher. Norah poured two glasses of water. ‘So, there’s an absolutely crap thing on the Odeon about aliens...’ Norah began.

‘Sounds terrible. I’m in,’ Poppy said. She could kiss Norah in the back row if she was amenable.

Norah handed Poppy a glass of water. ‘Or...’ she began nervously.

‘Or?’ Poppy repeated.

‘I mean, the house is empty.’

Poppy nearly dropped the glass. ‘Oh, right. You’re thinking we might... hang out here?’ she said carefully.

Norah shrugged. ‘I mean, we could just watch something on TV? I don’t know what’s on, but...’

Poppy felt her stomach roll over in the best possible way. ‘TV sounds good. We can just surf. In the living room?’

‘If you don’t mind a smaller TV, we could watch it in my room. So we don’t get... interrupted.’ Norah took a sip of water and glanced at her shoes.

Poppy didn’t know exactly what this meant, and she didn’t want to assume anything. She’d have been more than happy to just sit next to her and hold her hand. But obviously, it would have been even nicer to kiss her. To run her hands over Norah’s body.

But Poppy was determined not to rush. Take it slowly, she warned herself. She just said let’s watch TV.

Norah popped some popcorn in the microwave, and they took it upstairs. Poppy was more terrified with every step. It had never been like this before. Boys were simple. You knew what was what, and you got on with it. This was different. The mystery of what precisely Norah wanted lay in front of Poppy. She had to admit, it was deeply hot.

Or was it simple? Was Norah actually hinting rather hard? Poppy supposed her ability to read her was impeded by the high stakes. They were putting a good friendship on the line, and they both knew it.

Norah led the way into her room, the air thick with anticipation. Norah sat down and flicked the TV. The news was on. She flicked to the next channel, horse racing. She tried again and got an Australian soap.

‘Hey, you gonna sit with me?’ she asked, noting that Poppy was standing like an idiot next to the bed.

Poppy’s heart raced as she settled onto Norah's bed, feeling the warmth of her proximity.

‘You OK with this?’ Norah asked, nodding at the TV.

‘Sure,’ Poppy agreed.

As they settled in to watch, a comfortable silence enveloped them, broken only by the occasional rustling of popcorn.