The Wake-Up Call

by Beth O'Leary

something about Izzy Jenkins makes me want to behave very badly. I

I meet her gaze after a day of avoiding eye contact by every possible means.

He may say he doesn’t mind wasting his time, but life’s too short for me to waste mine.

is satisfying annoying Izzy. I like getting her to rise to the bait; I like making her eyes flare and narrow, and I like how her humour comes out when she’s snapping back at me.

But it turns out that making Izzy happy is a hundred times more satisfying.

‘No, Izzy. You’re not out of my system.’ It’s raining more heavily again, pattering at the branches above us. I reach out to brush a raindrop from her cheek with one slow swipe of my thumb.

‘Lucas,’ she says, softly now. ‘You can relax. It’s just me.’ It’s just me. Like she isn’t fucking everything.