Page 66 of Under Your Spell

‘You might struggle getting your Pop Tarts delivered,’ I reply.

‘Please, Clemmie?’ he widens his eyes. ‘Let’s move to Holy Island and I can sing with the seals.’

‘That sounds like a euphemism, like “sleep with the fishes”,’ I say, trying to ignore the zing that comes with his casual mention of us living together. Honestly, his Theo-ness is relentless. I think I deserve a medal for holding out this long – I don’t doubt that, had I not been the only person around for the last five weeks, he’d have moved on long ago, but as things stand, every day that passes it’s becoming harder and harder to cling to all the reasons I must not fall for him.

Theo laughs, puts on an exaggerated mobster boss voice. ‘Clementine Monroe, if you don’t hand over the ice cream, you’ll be singing with the seals.’

‘I knew this would happen. I told you to get your own.’

‘I don’t want my own. It tastes better when it’s yours.’ The dimple peeps out and I roll my eyes but hand him my cone, which he polishes off in a few bites.

‘I’m glad we came here before we have to leave,’ I say quietly.

Theo frowns but before he can reply, his phone dings and he pulls it out of his pocket, looking at it in a way that I think is supposed to be furtive. ‘Right,’ he says brightly. ‘I think we should go home now. Not for any specific reason.’

‘You do know you’re being weird, right?’ I ask.

‘You’re the weird one,’ Theo replies, already tugging me back towards the car.

We get home without incident, but Theo keeps glancing at me, a secret little smile on his lips.

‘What?’ I ask, half-laughing after he does it the fourth time.

‘Nothing,’ he says. Then he reaches over and grabs my hand, lifts it to his mouth and presses a soft kiss across my knuckles. ‘I’m just glad you were born,’ he says, then he gently places my hand back in my lap and returns his to the steering wheel like nothing happened.

‘Oh’ is what comes out of my mouth.

‘Oh?’ The dimple flickers.

‘I mean, I’m glad you were born too.’

‘You can tell me that on my birthday,’ he says.

‘I don’t know when that is.’ I flex my fingers, trying to get them to stop tingling.

‘October 7th.’ Theo pulls the car into the drive.

He’ll be back in LA by then, I think as I get out the car. He won’t even remember telling me about his birthday. There will be a big party, one full of models and millionaires, and he’ll probably be on a yacht, actually. Maybe he even has his own yacht? He could have his own yacht and I don’t even have a flatshare. Serena’s words echo in my head as they have so many times of late: Theo Eliott is not for you, Clemmie.

While I’m busy spiralling, Theo has raced ahead of me, letting himself in the house.

‘Let’s go down to the beach,’ he suggests.

‘Oh, Theo, I don’t know,’ I hedge, ‘I’m pretty tired.’

‘Please?’ he asks. ‘Just humour me?’

I follow behind him, and I wonder if he has any idea how I feel, how I’m all tangled up over him. Would he be mortified if he did? Or is it just something he’s used to? All the girls with their Theo Eliott posters, swooning over him.

We have less than a week left here; I just need to keep it together for a few more days and then we can go our separate ways. And I can pretend the thought of that doesn’t crush me, just a little bit.

We make our way down the path, and then through the dunes, and right when we’re about to crest them, right before the beach comes into view, Theo reaches for my hand again.

‘Happy birthday, sweetheart,’ he says, and then he turns and I follow, and there, standing on the sand, are my family.

Chapter Twenty-Six

‘Ahhh!’ I squeal, already sliding down the sandy slope towards Serena and Lil, who are running forward. We tumble to the ground together in a untidy heap, laughing and screaming, especially when Serena starts trying to push sand into Lil’s mouth.