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qualifications to be a teacher, so I can go into it if I want to. What do you want to do?’
    I laugh, so hard that I give the most unattractive snort. ‘I have no clue.’
    He shrugs. ‘That’s okay. I have mates who still don’t know what they want to do.’
    And after that, talking with Sean is easy. I tell him more about me – like how I quit Sixth Form because I thought I’d never get my grades up (and how Cathy was the one who convinced me to give college a try and not give up on myself), and how I passed my driving test first time with only two minors.
    I learn that Sean’s dad is Irish – but his parents had a rough divorce when he was little, so he only sees his dad a couple of times a year because he lives in York now, and Sean and his mum and little sister live in Swansea. He tells me that he broke his arm falling out of a tree when he was fourteen, that he took three tries to pass his driving test, and my jaw drops when I hear about the two A* grades he got at A Level.
    â€˜You probably could’ve got into Oxbridge.’
    â€˜I didn’t bother applying. It would’ve been too much pressure.’
    â€˜Fair enough.’
    We talk about music, movies, TV shows we like, and when we realise we both love watching Game of Thrones (but he’s read the books and I haven’t) we talk about that for about twenty minutes, mostly debating over Sansa Stark’s character.
    Being with Will used to be easy because we liked so much of the same stuff, and we were so alike. And even though Sean and I have things in common, it’s different – it’s like almost everything he says is a surprise to me. And that’s good.
    But I’m not going to start dating him, I remind myself. I won’t. I’m not in the right place to do that. Emotionally or mentally. I need a break from dating. And with my disastrous history when it comes to romance, I’m starting to convince myself that I must be jinxed.
    We spend almost two hours in McDonalds.
    If I’m honest, it’s was a much better way to spend my night than pushing away drunk, groping guys under strobe lighting.
    I’d stay longer with Sean, but we’re both starting to yawn. And I know that if I spend too much longer with him, I’m at a serious risk of forgetting about my ban on boys.
    Just as I’m wondering how to tell him I want to head back home, I’m saved by the bell: my phone starts to ring.
    I give Sean a look that says ‘sorry’, and answer. It’s Julia.
    â€˜Where are you?’ She’s shouting, and I can hear other voices in the background calling to each other, and, behind that, music with heavy bass and some guy rapping over the top of it.
    â€˜Nice talking to you, too. I’m in McDonalds.’ I tell her which one, describing where I am. ‘Are you still at the club?’
    â€˜We’re just about to call a taxi. Are you getting one with us? Or going back to Lover Boy’s?’
    â€˜He’s not –’ I break off, blushing. I can’t call Sean ‘Lover Boy’ (whether he is or not) when he’s right there in front of me, hearing my every word. I just hope he can’t hear Julia. Self-conscious, I press the button on the side of my phone to turn down the volume.
    â€˜I’ll meet you guys and come back with you,’ I tell her instead. ‘Where are you?’
    When I hang up, Sean smiles easily at me, and starts to stand. ‘I’ll walk you back to meet your mates.’
    â€˜Oh, you don’t have to do that.’
    His smile turns to a smirk. ‘Can’t have a pretty girl wandering around all on her own. Come on. Where are you meeting them?’
    â€˜Maddison,’ I tell him, picking up my bag and slinging the strap across my body. I try not to think too much about the fact that he just called me pretty. ‘You really don’t have to walk me there, you know. I don’t