vii.

Cleo was more confused than ever.

It wasn't that she didn't trust Lewis's word that he wasn't dating Rikki. Not exactly. He wasn't the type to be sneaky, and if he claimed there was nothing between them, it had to be true. Unless he was afraid of people knowing. Zane seemed awfully interested in Rikki, and he and Lewis had never got along even without a pretty girl to make things complicated.

Maybe Lewis was with Rikki, but was afraid Zane might do something to hurt him if he found out.

Cleo shook her head. That was silly. What was Zane going to do? Bribe some goons to have Lewis roughed up? She doubted Zane had the stomach for brutalising people, regardless of his big mouth, and this wasn't a mafia town. Zane was just a rich kid with an attitude.

Whatever the case might be, Lewis was hiding something. She could tell by his nervous stutters and his trailing sentences when he'd come for a visit. They'd been best friends since they were barely six, and she was as familiar with his expressions and gestures as she was with her own family. Probably more.

Still, she was looking forward to their picnic. She had jam sandwiches, and carrot and cheese, and even some with sardines. Not because she liked them at all, but it was always on the menu for the sandwich platters Emma made her create for parties and it seemed wrong not to include them now.

If only Kim would leave her alone to pack the sandwiches in peace, she'd be a lot happier. Somehow the little beast had managed to deduce exactly what was going on. Cleo barely said a word on the subject, but Kim's round about nettling could not be deflected by eye rolls and noncommittal grunts.

"Why are you packing sandwiches away? You're using up all the carrots. Mum's going to be mad at you. Emma doesn't like jam sandwiches. You're not going out with the girls, are you? I know Miriam never invites you by yourself, and Emma's got swim practice today."

"How do you know she has practice?"

"Eliot. Anyway, if you're not going with Emma, and you don't have any other friends, you must be dragging Lewis on a picnic. And since those are your favourite plates and you did your hair nice, that makes it a date."

"No, it doesn't," Cleo said, feeling strangely defensive. "We're just spending some time together."

"Alone. On a picnic. You're dating him. He just doesn't know it yet," she added with a smug folding of the arms. "I read it in a magazine. You're definitely dating."

Cleo fumbled with the napkins and kept her focus on them instead of Kim's triumphant smirk. "Stop being stupid."

"I can't stop what I never started," she shot back.

"Could you just... leave me alone for two seconds?" Cleo thought she was being patient, but her tone was less than kind, despite her intentions.

Kim stared her down. "One. Two. Your time is up."

"Ugh! You are so annoying!"

"Girls," their Dad interrupted, "What's going on out here?"

"Cleo's getting ready for her date," Kim chirped, knowing that it was sure to get a rise out of him.

"A date? With who?"

"It's not a date, Kim," she said with menace in her voice. "It's just a simple lunch with Lewis."

"Lewis," he narrowed his eyes. "I don't know about that boy. Something's not quite right about him sometimes."

"Daaad. You're being unfair. Lewis is perfectly respectable."

"Don't let him try anything funny," he cautioned. "He's still a hormonal teenager, and I won't have my daughter..."

"Like I said, it's not even a date," she stopped him, sighing a little as she packed two plastic cups for the drinks. She would have liked to take glasses—the nice tall ones that had vines etched in the sides—but she was afraid with Kim and her dad hovering they'd make fun of it being a further sign that this was not just a picnic lunch between friends.

As her dad unintentionally distracted Kim by turning on a gruesome nature show about predatory sea creatures, Cleo's mind wandered back to the intentions of her picnic. It was kind of like a date, she supposed. It was easy to see how they'd get that impression, though she would never admit it to them.

Maybe... maybe while they were eating lunch, she'd call it a date in passing. Then if Lewis disagreed, he could say so. Or... or maybe she would ask him flat out so he wouldn't feel like she'd trapped him into a corner. Or maybe it was better just to pass it off as a joke, that way they could laugh it off with no awkward backlash.

Or it might be best just to forget about it completely.

Yeah. That was best. No need to make things weird and scare him away. Not if she intended on having a lot more non-dates with him in future.

Lewis arrived right on time with a rolled up blanket tucked under his arm, sporting another pair of trousers, this time with a solid blue polo shirt. Cleo still felt strange to see him on a weekend without tackle box and fishing pole in hand, but she wouldn't let it dampen her excitement to be spending time with him.

She did point out his choice in accessories. "You're wearing sunglasses. Inside."

"Oh. Yes, well, my eyes are a bit sensitive today."

"We can find a spot in the shade," she suggested. "Are you ready, then?"

He nodded, but then backed away when she handed him the picnic basket. "Is there... uh... anything liquidy in there?"

"Just the drinks. Don't worry! I've got lids on everything! I'll be right back. Gotta get my bag."

He took the basket with one hand, trying to touch it as little as possible. Cleo shook her head at his odd behaviour, but was back in a moment, beach bag slung over her shoulder.

"Have fun on your date!" Kim called from her place on the sofa, never taking her eyes off the telly.

Cleo turned deep red, and grabbed Lewis's wrist. "Uh... we'd better go before the best picnicking spot is taken. Bye, Dad." And with a surprisingly firm grip, she pulled Lewis out the door, shutting it behind them with a loud thud.