"Heads! ...Oops, sorry..."

Enoch barely ducked in time to avoid the stray football as it flew by his head, courtesy of Hugh practising on his own in the middle of the oval. It was Enoch's free period and Hugh's last class for the day had been cancelled.

Enoch could have reached over and picked up the ball and thrown it back himself as it struck and bounced off the fence but instead he chose to ignore it, lowering his face back towards the picture he was working on as Hugh started to jog over.

"You know..." Hugh panted, rolling the football back towards him with his foot and kicking it up into his hands as he paused to catch a breath. "You'd probably be good at sport if you tried...probably be good for ya."

"Ya sound like my mum...not my choice of elective." Enoch lifted his head and raised an eyebrow, shielding his page from prying eyes with his body, "I fail ta see what use kickin' a ball 'round a field is ta anyone. Pointless, far as I'm concerned."

"Well, duh, it'd be a bit more painful to kick if it had a point, wouldn't it?" Hugh grinned and tucked the ball under his arm.

Enoch just rolled his eyes and graced the terrible joke with a scoff of derision as he went back to his preferred pastime.

"You could play cricket, everyone can play cricket and you've got a pretty mean swing when you want to. Actually...I'd pay good money to see you swing a cricket bat."

"Depends, are you volunteerin' for the ball?"

Hugh laughed and after a moment Enoch felt his presence right over his shoulder as he craned his head to see what Enoch was drawing. He stepped purposely to the right and trod on Hugh's foot hard. "Mind yeh own business."

"Don't be such a grumpy old git." Hugh prodded but, much to Enoch's relief, left him alone after that and kicked his ball back out into the oval and away from Enoch.

The darker haired boy let out a sigh and shook his head to himself as he tried to focus on what he was doing. He could have been, and should have been, working on his maths work as far behind as he was and it wouldn't take much at all for Mr Barron to send a note back to his parents and give him another detention. But Enoch didn't care, it was his least enjoyed class, slightly surprising perhaps given the close relationship it often had to science, but his work ethic was only getting worse and worse for it.

Stuff the trouble he may get in. He was starting to care less and less about everything lately.

Well, that wasn't entirely true at all. Not everything. Some things, namely one, Enoch was caring about more and more and he wasn't sure he was glad for that or not.

When he was around Olive now it was all he could do to try and focus on anything but her very comfortable presence, never mind how annoyed he got whenever another boy sat close to her instead.

He frowned to himself as he carefully shaded the cheekbones with close precision and deft strokes of the pencil. It didn't do justice to the subject, his impression of whom he was determined to hide from unwelcome, prying eyes, but it kept him busy.

Enoch knew that Olive cared. It had been almost blindingly obvious every time she had tried to start a conversation with him and her never dampened determination to get below the walls he had so carefully constructed. He knew too, or at least strongly suspected that she liked him more than she might want him to know. He wasn't stupid, she'd leaned in the same way he was pretending that he hadn't done on Halloween. So it wasn't for fear of rejection like Hugh might think, that kept Enoch from pursuing anything, he'd get over it and go back into his shell of solitude. It was the daunting and thoroughly unfamiliar idea of taking a great big leap out of his small comfort zone. He wasn't good in a group of people at the best of times, social and Enoch were two things that did not go together and he was still annoyed with his parents for making him go in the first place. Admittedly, having the satisfaction of being Olive's point of support had significantly lessened his annoyance.

The pencil lead snapped suddenly and Enoch swore quietly to himself. He hadn't even noticed he was pressing so hard.

"What are you drawing?"

"I swear if one more person asks me th-" Enoch growled at the unexpected voice. He'd been so deep in his thoughts he hadn't heard or seen anyone coming. He covered the page and turned around where his snap trailed off and his scowl lessened. "Oh."

"Okay, okay, you don't need to show me. I was just asking." Olive's eyebrows were raised and she had her bag all bundled up in her arms as she stood beside him. How long has she even been there?

"Hn..." Enoch grunted and tried to subtly close his sketchbook without looking too obvious about it. As if it had worked. As much of an enigma as Enoch liked to think he was, there was the rare occasion he was sure she could see right through him. "What d'ya want anyway, Olive?"

"I just saw you over here and thought you could use the company is all."

"Well I ain't one for conversation so..."

"That's alright, because I am. Emma was threatening to ask you herself if I didn't."

Enoch sighed and pushed his weight off the fence, turning around to toss his sketchbook onto the pile of the rest of his things on the steps behind them.

"You're really good at this not talkin' 'bout things, ain't ya?" He said dryly, not at all comfortable with the turn the conversation was taking. If Olive could pretend it hadn't happened at all then he could too and she could go back to just being his friend. Fat chance of that, apparently.

"You can't honestly tell me you'd be happier if Emma walked up and brought it up to you?"

"Still don't care what she finks."

"Then if you care what I think, you'll let me finish a sentence."

Enoch stopped. He was still facing away from her, just staring at the stone steps. He did care a good deal more what Olive thought. Somewhat reluctantly, he sighed and turned on the spot, looking her in the eyes for the first time that afternoon and saying nothing as he waited.

"Why me?"

Enoch raised his eyebrows and looked to the side in confusion for a moment before looking back at Olive. "Okay now I really dunno what ya talkin' 'bout..."

"Why are you nice to me? You're never nice to anyone else like that."

It was happening and Enoch didn't know what to think about that. Olive wasn't letting it go. She took another step towards him while he stood rooted to the spot.

"Oh for-'aven't you asked me this before?"

"And you never answer it." She persisted, "You avoid it every time...I mean...I wouldn't expect you to answer it but...I would like you to now." Enoch rolled his eyes as she began to ramble on in the way she did when she got embarrassed or flustered, "I don't even care what the answer is because I'll still want to be your friend any-"

"Oh just shut up already."

"Excuse me?"

"Well if you expect me ta talk, ya gonna have ta let me." The boy shook his head to himself and stuffed his hands into his pockets where he could safely clench his fists unseen.

"Are you going to?"

"No."

Something flashed in Olive's eyes that Enoch rarely saw on her face. It wasn't just frustration, although she definitely seemed that, but disappointment. Olive was like the epitome of hope, and usually for him to come around to some idea or conversation and for a moment, Enoch regretted his blunt reply and thought for once she may actually give up.

But she didn't.

She planted her feet, only standing about two feet away from him, and tilted her chin to look him in the eye.

"You think that showing you care about anything makes you weaker but it doesn't. I don't know why opening up just a little bit bothers you so much but it doesn't have to. I don't care if you really don't care about me one jot, Enoch O'Connor, but until you tell me to go away and mean it, you're stuck with me because I will always choose to see under that wall and I think you need someone to."

Enoch was stunned to say the least and he was sure it showed on his face. His jaw had slackened and his eyes widened slightly more as he could not look away from her face. The flash of disappointment had gone almost entirely and there was as much fiery determination in her eyes as there had been when she'd stood up to Jack. Damn it all she was attractive when she found that in her.

She knew, of course she knew, that he wouldn't tell her to go away really. If she genuinely annoyed him he would have told her the first time she tried to sit with him, Enoch did not spare the insults when he disliked someone.

It wasn't even the first time that day he'd felt like she could see right through him. She certainly had now.

There was a long moment of silence in which neither of them moved or even looked away before Enoch finally broke free of his taken aback daze and shook his head slowly. Even if he wanted to tell her just how much of an effect she made on him, he didn't think he had the words to do it.

"I...I don't not care..." was the best, thoroughly awkwardly phrased, reply he could come up with. "Don't make me say it any other way."

She softened considerably and smiled a little, sweet smile that was so very Olive that Enoch couldn't help doing what he did.

With his heartbeat louder than ever in the otherwise silent atmosphere and being a good deal more conscious of his movement than he had been on Halloween, Enoch took a half step closer. He heard Olive's soft intake of breath when he leaned down, felt her rise up on her toes to meet him halfway, felt her nose brush his accidentally as he awkwardly struggled to aim correctly with his eyes half closed and then his lips were on hers and he didn't care about any of that anymore.

It was soft, unfamiliar and slightly clumsy, no more than a couple of seconds before Enoch leaned back. His head felt slightly foggy and it took a moment for his eyes to focus on her as he took a step backwards. Olive had turned a bright shade of fire truck red and it was all he could do not to touch his mouth where his lips were tingling slightly. There was certainly no denying it now. Had Enoch had less control over himself he might have tried to kiss her again as the bubble of warmth that sometimes swelled in his chest around her burst and spread down his arms. It felt...nice.

"Th-that was..."

"Enough of an answer?"

"Uh huh..."

Olive beamed and her smile was infectious, ear to ear as she just stared at him like he was a whole lot more than Enoch knew he really was. But he couldn't help it. His lips curled upwards into a barely there, but still definitely present, smile.

"I knew I was right to see the best in you."

"Yeah...well...if you weren't so damn nice..." Enoch's little smile turned into a smirk and he felt a small surge of pride when Olive giggled. She had a sweet bell like laugh that could have showcased her whole personality all on its own.

He moved away first, kneeling down to pack his sketchbook back into his bag when the bell rang from the school building. Hugh must have already left, he realised as he glanced towards the empty oval, much to his intense relief that he hadn't interrupted again. Enoch may have actually killed him if he had.

"Enoch?"

He stood up with his bag over one shoulder and turned to face Olive again. She was holding a scrap of paper out to him which he took and raised an eyebrow at.

Olive was clutching the book she must have torn it from to her chest and looked even pinker than before. Surely the embarrassing part was over. "My number...I mean, if you want it, you don't need to use it or anything, I just thought-"

"Okay."

"Really?" She beamed again and Enoch had to look away, under the excuse of watching students start to leave the main building, or he might have let her eyes draw him right back in.

He tucked the slip of paper with her phone number into his pocket alongside his phone and together they started to walk back towards the school entrance. "Don' wait for me for the bus, I gotta work today."

"Alright....Enoch?"

But by now they weren't alone. Students were starting to trickle out all around them and Enoch was not going to talk about anything in front of the whole school.

She left him at the bus stop with a quick "See you tomorrow" and a gently touch to his arm that Enoch a day ago wouldn't have paid attention to. Now it made him want more.

As he started the walk down the pavement in the direction of the family's funeral parlour, and was slowly left behind and separate from other pairs and groups of students walking that direction, Enoch slowly brought his fingers up to his lips.