the number one to arbury

heartbeat

I don't know Cambridge that well. Well, you don't get to know the city you just happen to go to when you have a whole army waiting for you in every corner and alleyway.

Lina gave me this address. 94 Lazarus Ave. With the little allowance I still have on my account, just to make sure no megabyte goes to waste, I pull up the map on my phone and search for the directions to that place.

I let the music on the radio play, turning it down so the sound won't cover the navigator's voice. Halfway into the journey I notice that the view resembles what I had on the first day. Maybe the address is near Rüveyde's house. This time no one is chasing me right on my tail, that's the difference.

I stand corrected.

When I look at the rear view mirror again, I see another car approaching me. They honk the horn at me and speeds up to the right. They open the window and the front passenger, who looks a lot like Solitude, knocks on mine, trying to provoke me into opening the window too.

I step on the gas pedal deeper, speeding up. And this time I'm glad I have set up the headrest because I might have got a whiplash from that if I hadn't done that. I didn't step on it too deep in too little time, but I still can't get the right intensity for this car. Not that I've really driven one before this one, but this car's a ten-year-old people carrier, which might not have been that delicate from the beginning when it comes to the throttle. I look at the rear view mirror again and they seem to be farther away right now.

A traffic light. They'll gain on me for sure.

When I get to the traffic light, it's still on green. I keep on driving then. As I cross the junction, the lights turn yellow. They're almost right in front of the light post.

Turn red anytime soon. Please.

The lights turn red right when I reach the other side. They are held there, one car behind the light post. While I have the chance, I get back to the speed I reached before the lights. Fast enough but not enough to earn a speeding ticket.

That was close. Not that close, but close. Solitude did get to tap on my car window, but she didn't pull out anything to break it even though I refused to open it for a good amount of time. That last tap was almost a punch, though. And I know she's a strong one, been involved in too many fights.

The map app goes into a loading circle. Recalculating route.

Good thing that thing does not tell me to turn around back to the chase route. It gives me another route back to the junction I went to when I was also chased four days ago, the one where I took a turn and ended up at Rüveyde's.

The only difference is that I have to turn right instead of left.

As I turn, I can faintly see Lazarus Ave written on the road sign, only lit by the one streetlight ahead and the lights from the house sitting in the corner of the turn.

And by sweet luck, number 94 is the house right opposite.

---

My last period today ends two periods before class ends. Which means one and a half hours of waiting. Another teacher seems to be facing the same thing. Arabella.

The first hour we don't talk to each other, busy with our own papers to mark. I wouldn't even think about bothering her in this state. One, because that would be rude. Two, because she's not the kind of person who multitasks that easily.

She finishes first – she's got a clear mark scheme and it's easier marking physics than English. My mark scheme is simple but complicated, enough to write on a sticky note but hard to decide when I have to mark actual works. I finish twenty-five minutes before class ends and put the papers in the drawer labelled MARKED PAPERS.

'So, Rue, already decided on who to invite?'

'I thought it was supposed to be the man asking you out. No one's asked me out yet and I haven't asked anyone out yet. And you?'

'Pete's going with his wife. The Lady with her husband. And Kier's with Maggie. I don't know about anyone else. But I've been thinking about asking someone out.'

'Who is it?'

'Someone. You'll have to see.'

The door opens and Pete walks in, carrying a stack of paper with him.

'Good afternoon, ladies.'

'Good afternoon. A little soon, sir?' Arabella asks.

'Quiz,' he says. 'Really quick. I thought they'd finish when the bell rings, but then someone brought the paper forward and the rest sort of followed. By the way, heard you're talking about the dance...'

'You really need to quit eavesdropping.'

'I just overheard it, really. I had no intentions.'

'No intentions never happen with Peter Alexandrian.'

'For once, Arabella Deane, won't you... I've always expected those kind of words from you, Rüveyde.'

'Sorry, but you might be looking for someone else who resigned last month.'

'Good riddance. Where's that boy now, I wonder.'

'I heard he's already hired by another school.'

'Well, that's amazing,' Pete says. 'But I'm not taking back my words about what he's done to me.'

'Maybe he's learned from his mistakes this time,' I say.

'Rubbish. Anyway, the bell's in five minutes. I should get ready.'

Pete goes to his station and tidies up his space, putting his bag on the now-empty desk. When the bell rings, he's the first one to leave the room. Now it's just the two of us again.

'So, as I was saying...'

'What is it, Ara?'

'About the dance...while no one's asked you out yet...'

'What, you're gonna ask me out?'

'Well...yeah. Rue, will you...go to...the dance...with me?'

'Uh...'

'What's wrong?'

'Nothing. It's just that...'

It's just that I don't know how to feel because now I know I might not be the only one but I don't know what you think of me as and what I think of our relationship right now somehow depends on that...

'So is it a yes?' she asks.

'I'd say it's a yes.'

'Right, see you later then. What do you think about Saturday night with me? As friends, as dates, however you think about us.'

And she's not even sure how she thinks about us. We're like sixteen all over again.

'I'm free. Where?'

'Just meet me at Market Square. We'll find the place then.'

Perfect. I might get something to go with the dress there.