by Jack Blatish

Created on: December 17, 2009   Last Updated: December 21, 2009

“My uncle lives up there,” I said to Caroline, the most beautiful girl in my school, whilst pointing to a disgusting block of flats in the distance; thinking for a split second she might be impressed.

“Which floor?” she replied a couple of seconds later in a voice with more interest than I could have imagined – or was it feigned?

“Thirteenth,” I shot back rapidly. “There is a really good view over London up there, you can see Canary Wharf, the Gherkin, loads of other flats – you should see it.”

“Yeah, maybe I should, if it’s that good,” she said, pulling her woolly coat further around her slim shoulders.

We had momentarily stopped along an uneven grey road in London to look up at my drug-dealing uncle’s flat in the distance. Could it be any more romantic?

The street was heaving with cars but not many pedestrians.

An old lady waddled past with her shopping but no-one else was in the immediate vicinity.

Double-Decker red buses made up half the traffic and the rest looked like mums and children on their way back from the school run.

We both stopped looking upwards and looked at each other briefly and smiled from opposite corners of our mouths, and then looked down the road.

Man I had thought. How on earth had I got into that situation? I was standing, talking to thee Caroline Cary.

And not only that, we’d been talking for four hours, with only slight awkwardness here and there.

She was chewing on one of my peppermint chewing gums, which I’d given to her -and she’d thanks for.

Even if I’d gone home right then and spent the rest of the night playing Nintendo, it would still have been just about the most successful day I’d had in a while.

I say walking home, but this was no where near my place, in fact, we had been by my house long ago.

I had been making up my address as we went along.

I had to, because well, this would never have happened in school.

She was in my science class – and well that’s about it. I think I gave her a gauze once, or lit her Bunsen burner. It wasn’t that memorable. Let’s just say we were aware of each other.

However, at the start of the week the heat had been turned up when our elderly teacher had paired us in an assignment on bacteria.

I had gone as red as a naked flame when it was announced, especially with the ‘lucky git’ murmurings uttered quietly by my mates.

The bacterial assignment sounds

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