'Why don't you just leave?' she asked, swirling patterns in the ketchup smeared across the newspaper with a cold chip.
'Leave what?' he replied quietly and without taking his eyes from the foaming of the waves, as if he were merely answering his own thoughts.
Her hand stopped still. Slowly, as her mind processed his answer, she repeated it back to him, her cherry red lips delicately forming the words and casting them into the wind.
'...And go where?' he continued.
And in that moment she knew everything she needed to know about this boy. She balled the oily slick of fish skin and batter into the newspaper and stood up. Grey clouds rose up all around them like coal smoke.
'See you later then,' she said, gulping down the emotion that was already beginning to singe the back of her throat. She pictured the bus journey home alone and turned and walked away before he could see her tears.
He didn't react for a long time, turning only when the sound of her footsteps had faded completely and she was nothing but a speck of colour gliding along the promenade.
