He shrugs. "I don't have a phone, so I can't look her up."
"Ah, but I do." I get it out and unlock it before passing it to him.
He smirks as he taps something into the search engine and scrolls for a moment before handing it back.
I stare at the character on the screen. She has flame-red hair with golden highlights, huge blue eyes framed by long dark lashes, and a pointed chin that is almost pixie-like. She's stunning.
I glance up at him. Is this how he sees me?
"Okaaay," I say with a laugh, screenshotting the image.
We meet each other's eyes again, just as the bartender finally materializes to take our order. My every nerve ending is on alert.
As Ash turns toward the bar, I become aware of just how hemmed in we are, how many people suddenly seem to be clamoring for space. A trickle of panic starts below my rib cage as someone presses against me from behind. I go rigid. I can't see his face, but I know it's a man.
Ash looks over his shoulder at me and freezes. "What's wrong? Hey, can you back up?" he asks sharply, looking over the top of my head at whoever is crowding me.
"Where am I supposed to go?" I hear a deep voice retort.
I come to life, making a break for it. There's a group of potted palms and tree ferns by the railings and I head straight for them through the crowd.
"Sorry," I gasp as Ash joins me.
"Are you all right?" he asks, touching his hand to my lower back.
I flinch and he immediately retreats, which makes me feel even more wretched.
"I just got a bit claustrophobic," I try to explain, struggling to catch my breath.
"Do you want to leave?" he asks.
I nod. "But we need to pay for our drinks," I say weakly.
"I'm sure they'll give them to someone else."
"I'm going to head back to the hostel, but you don't have to come."
He scoffs. "Fuck that. I'm walking you back."
My stomach warms at his protectiveness, but I point out: "I've been backpacking around Europe on my own for almost three weeks."
"That's your choice. This is mine." He nods toward the exit.
But it wasn't my choice, I think. I'm not interrailing on my own because I wanted to feel free and independent—although I had hoped I would feel those things when I finally made the decision to go. I'm alone because my best friend couldn't stick to the deal we made when we were seventeen.
My heart aches later as I text her: I miss you so much.
It's just another in a long line of messages that have gone unanswered.
CHAPTER TWO
Ash and I agreed to meet at nine for our launderette run, but at nine thirty the next morning I'm still at reception, with no sign of him.
I'm more gutted than I thought I would be, given that I'd prepared myself for disappointment. I knew he'd have no trouble finding someone else to hang out with.
I stare down at my book, feeling miserable. It's taking monumental willpower not to open it. I want to read the last chapter of the last book Stella lent me tomorrow evening, on my final train journey to the Algarve to meet up with my parents. I thought it would be a symbolic way of rounding off the trip I'd looked forward to with my best friend for years.
Bracing myself against the sudden tightness in my chest, I check my watch. I feel weirdly sick at the thought of not seeing Ash again, but I'm just wasting time now. Doing laundry is already going to eat into too much of my day.
I really don't want to deal with the shitty comments that I know will come if I meet up with my parents with a bag full of dirty clothes, but am I being stupid? Is it worth sacrificing some of my last hours in Lisbon?
To hell with it. I get to my feet just as Ash tears into the lobby. "You're still here," he gasps, staring at me with wide, panicked eyes.
My heart flips at the sight of him. He's clean-shaven, but his hair is a hot mess.
