I Am Not a Number. Lisa Heathfield

up between us.

      ‘But what about the Trads putting up the age of consent?’

      ‘It’s to cut teenage pregnancies,’ Sara says, but I know her heart isn’t in it.

      ‘More like it’s to cut all the fun from our life.’

      Sara breathes out as though she’s fed up with me, fed up with it all. ‘Can’t you tell me something I want to hear about?’

      ‘Like what?’

      ‘Like why is grass green?’ she says. ‘If the bottom bit in the earth is white, how come the top bit is a different colour?’ Sara crosses her legs and we sit opposite each other with our knees almost touching. She’s like my mirror. ‘Because surely, if they’re exposed to the sun all the time, they should be bleached-white. Or at least a bit sucked-dry yellow from the wind and everything.’

      ‘I do actually know the answer,’ I say. Sara’s laugh is genuine this time. It makes me want to hug her tight and tell her that we’re going to be okay.

      ‘I thought you might, mega-plant-brain.’

      ‘It’s not really green,’ I tell her. ‘It’s the chlorophyll in them. It absorbs all the other colours and has no use for the green so sort of chucks it out again.’

      ‘Of course it does.’

      I hold Sara’s hands, one and then the other. ‘I’m not going to let all this Trad and Core stuff make us fall out,’ I say.

      ‘Nor am I,’ Sara replies. She puts up her pinky finger and hooks it through mine as we used to do at primary school.

      The thunder is so sudden that we scream. We’re laughing as we jump up and grab our bags. And I don’t care that the rain really starts on us as we run back to school, because I’ve got my best friend by my side, our fingers still linked.

      ‘Love you, Starry,’ I shout.

      ‘Love you right back, Rudey,’ Sara laughs, wiping under her eyes so that the rain can’t paint mascara down her cheeks.

      ‘Do you want a lift, Luke?’ Darren asks him.

      ‘I’m all right, thanks.’

      ‘You’ll get soaked,’ Darren tells him.

      ‘I like the rain,’ Luke smiles. There’s a soldier close by so I know he won’t want to kiss me, but he squeezes my hand. ‘See you tomorrow.’

      ‘Yeah.’

      ‘Get in, Ruby,’ Darren says through the window. ‘I’m blocking the traffic.’

      But it feels wrong to just leave Luke like this. Since we’ve started going out, I don’t think we’ve ever said goodbye without at least a hug. So I lean in to kiss him, just quickly, but enough to feel his lips on mine.

      A car horn behind us ruins it.

      ‘Ruby,’ Darren shouts.

      I don’t bother to check if a soldier has noticed us before I get into the car.

      ‘Not your wisest move,’ Darren says as he starts the engine.

      ‘They can’t lock me up for kissing my boyfriend.’

      ‘You might just have to play along with them for a bit,’ Darren says, as he starts to drive. ‘Until things settle down.’

      In the mirror I can see Luke walking away, his bag on his back.

      ‘What if I don’t want to?’ I ask.

      ‘They’ve got guns, Ruby,’ Darren says. And it’s enough, that one small word, to pull me right back into reality.