"Were we ever okay, really?"

His parting line sticks with me. It haunts me when I wake up in the early hours of the morning, visited by the ghosts of a much younger Ruby and Lewis. They've finally broken out of the metaphorical haunted mansion and slipped through that open gate, bringing along bittersweet memories to rub in my face.

Lewis is right. The adult versions of us have never really been okay.

But, once upon a time, a long time ago, Ruby and Lewis had the briefest of potential for the shortest of moments. Or so I believed, anyway.

So I guess it's time I let you in on my little secret.

Let's journey back to the spring of 2009 . . . I was 16 years old and had just joined the St Patrick's school debate team. I'd mainly made this decision as teachers were starting to put pressure on us about our university applications, and I thought debating might make me seem like a more well-rounded individual. I also quite liked arguing, so I figured I'd be pretty good at it.

An added benefit to this was that we got to attend a debate competition 50 miles away in the capital. Two days away from regular school and a cheeky wee overnight stay in Edinburgh seemed like the dream. (Apparently, I've never been able to turn down a nice hotel!)

They loaded my team into a coach put on for us by the organisers, picking up from several other Glaswegian schools en route. And when we stopped outside St Stephen's, we were in for a nice surprise . . .

"Ooh, look . . . boys!" My "friend" Rachel pointed out the window excitedly, wriggling around like it was her first time seeing a male. The reason I put "friend" in inverted commas is because she wasn't a particularly good one. We were only really on speaking terms at all because we were both on this team, friends of convenience. Otherwise, we had pretty much nothing in common.

Despite myself, I leaned over to peer out the window, too. Our school debate team consisted entirely of females, and most of the others already on the bus had a similar issue. The St Stephen's team, however, was mixed, with three boys and three girls. Interesting. I later found out the three boys had chosen debate over the threat of a six month detention. I'm still not sure what they'd done to warrant such a long punishment, but I knew their school was a lot stricter than ours.

"That guy looks a bit like Ryan Gosling!" Rachel said dreamily. Hmm. Maybe if you melted poor Ryan and then tried to reassemble him. "I'll take him if he's available."

I had no intention of fighting her for him.

"What about you?" Rachel asked. "Which one do you like?"

"The one who looks like a naughty pixie," I said, without thinking. The boy in question was lounging nonchalantly against the school fence, his shirt untucked, and his tie slightly askew. He was the type of cool guy I would never have the nerve to even approach, but I was just instantly drawn to him. As soon as I spoke, I wanted to retract my words. I didn't like to tell other people when I had a crush. These things were best kept to yourself, and I didn't trust Rachel not to embarrass me.

Not that this was even a crush, you understand. It was simply a silly little reaction to a cute male. He sauntered past our seat, and up close, he was even better. He flashed me a cheeky smile, and baby fireworks flared somewhere near my heart.

"Hmm, I don't fancy yours much." Rachel huffed and rolled her eyes in disgust. I ignored her. I'd always thought she had terrible taste in guys. Melted Gosling was a prime example.

Anyway, in case it wasn't already completely obvious, naughty pixie boy was Lewis.

Over the course of that morning, I began to get the measure of him. He was clearly a bit cocky and a practical joker, but he was also an exceptionally good debater. I don't remember the subjects we were covering in this contest, but I know he absolutely blew me away. It was a verbal boxing match, and the punches thrown were all his - he took the posh Edinburgh boy he was competing against down without any hesitation. Complete knockout.

His obvious intelligence made me like him even more.

And I was starting to think he might actually like me too.

That suspicion lay in the sidelong glances that I caught him throwing me every once in a while as we sat in the audience. Or in the way his gaze seemed to seek me out when he won his argument, as if silently looking for my approval, before his face broke into a victorious grin.

After lunch, my own turn was coming up, and as we ate, I got increasingly anxious at the idea of speaking in front of so many people. It was one thing debating with my team, or speaking up in class . . . But I'd never had to do it in front of such a large audience. I walked out into the hallway and found a quiet place to try and calm myself down, but my panic doubled in size rather than reducing. My breathing was too fast, and the room was starting to spin.

"Hey, are you okay?" Suddenly, there he was. Lewis. Crouching in front of me, looking concerned. I was mortified that he was witnessing my meltdown.

"I'm fine. Honestly." I buried my face in my hands, silently willing him to go away.

"It's nerves, right?" He sat down beside me, obviously not taking the hint. (Some things apparently don't change.) "It's not that bad when you're up there, honestly."

"Easy for you to say; you've already got yours over with." I laughed bitterly, turning to look at him. "And you completely owned that guy: how did you do it? And don't tell me you imagined everyone was naked because I've always thought that would be way too distracting!"

He chuckled. "Agreed." He patted my hand reassuringly, and my skin immediately burned where he touched me. His eyes met mine, and I couldn't help but notice how dark and soft they were: I could easily have lost myself in them. "Look, I went up there and focused on that posh prick I was arguing with and pretended there was no audience. Just do that, and you'll be fine. I promise."

"I'm not so sure," I sighed, but I realised I was already feeling far calmer. There was something reassuring about Lewis. He wasn't just cute; he seemed nice, too. But I also sensed a sadness in him, barely concealed under that class clown facade, and I couldn't help but wonder what demons he was fighting.

"You're up against Kerry from my school, aren't you?" he asked, and I nodded. "Just give her lots of really intense eye contact - it freaks her out and makes her fumble her words."

"That's good to know!" I brightened at that. "But wait - should you really be giving tips to competing schools?"

"Oh trust me, you don't know Kerry - she's really fucking annoying," he grinned, standing up. "I already like you way better, Ruby. Good luck!" He walked away, and I stared after him, unable to stop smiling as I wondered how he knew my name.

And so, buoyed up by that little interaction, I went up there and absolutely smashed my opponent, in much the same way Lewis had. I saw him give me a double thumbs up as I came off stage, and a warm glow bathed my heart in happiness.

Deep down, I didn't know if anything would actually happen between us. But it was nice to imagine that something could. I'd hoped he might slip me his number at some point, but I didn't get a chance to speak to him again that day. Oh well, I thought optimistically, maybe tomorrow!

After we'd wrapped up for the day and ate dinner, Rachel tried to talk me into sneaking into the pub next door. I refused. Rachel looked considerably older than she was and frequently passed for 18, going out to bars all the time without being asked for any ID. I, however, very much looked my age. I also didn't really want to get into any trouble.

"Fine, I'll just go myself then," she sighed, grabbing her jacket and throwing the hotel door room open. "Later, loser!"

"Finally - some peace and quiet!" I muttered, settling down with my romance novel. I kept getting distracted, though, thinking about Lewis. Wondering if he was thinking about me, too.

Apparently not, as it turned out.

Rachel didn't return until nearly midnight - she crashed through the door, alcohol fumes radiating off her. "You missed out on a great night," she announced, completely oblivious to the fact I'd been fast asleep when she came in. "The boys from St Stephen's were there, so they kept me company!"

I found myself fully awake at that. "Oh really? Did you manage to pull your Ryan Gosling lookalike?"

She wrinkled her nose, flinging herself on her bed, still fully dressed. "Mark? Oh god, no! He turned out to be a total wet blanket, so I had a bit of fun with your pixie guy instead."

See what I mean about her not being a very good friend?

My heart sank like a stone. "You kissed Lewis?" I whispered.

"Oh yes . . . He was the best kisser, too!" She winked, and I inwardly cringed. I must have looked pretty devastated on the outside, too, because she rolled her eyes. "Sorry, I know you liked him, Ruby, but let's face it - it's not as if you were actually going to do anything about it! You never bloody do!"

She had a point, I had to admit.

I must have just imagined our connection, I thought later, wide awake while Rachel snored on the other side of the room. My heart just couldn't compute how he could have done anything with Rachel if he had genuinely liked me. I wasn't sure how I would even face him the following day.

It turned out that wasn't an issue: Lewis wasn't there the next morning.

I had no idea why. I didn't know anyone on his team well enough to ask, but I felt his absence keenly, despite feeling more than a little betrayed by his actions. I'd connected with him even if he hadn't felt the same. But he was gone, and that was that.

For a few years afterwards, he would still pop into my mind every so often. I'd randomly wonder what would happen if we ever ran into one another on a night out. Glasgow isn't a massive city - I was always meeting people I knew . . . Usually ones I would have preferred to avoid, though. (I still run into Rachel a lot, for example!) So there was a chance we might meet again. Would we address what happened, or just make casual conversation, skirting cautiously around the subject?

In the end, it took twelve years before fate threw us together once more - when he turned up in my life as one of Drew's best friends, of course!

I still remember that night so clearly - the memory has never faded. I'd met Lauren and Drew at the pub - at this point, they'd only been together for a couple of weeks. "One of Drew's friends is here," Lauren had murmured in my ear when I'd arrived. "And he is a hotty."

"This better not be a set-up," I said sternly, and she laughed.

"It's way too early to try to set you up with one of Drew's mates! What if we split up and I'm stuck seeing him all the time because you're all happily coupled up with his pal? Not a chance! Anyway, it looks like he already has his hands full with that girl." She nodded towards the bar, and I glanced across to see a beautiful redhead all over a tall, dark-haired male. I could only see him in profile, but there was something heart-wreckingly familiar about him. He turned his head slightly to whisper something in the girl's ear, and I saw his face properly for the first time in well over a decade.

It couldn't be. Could it?

"Lewis!" Drew called, confirming his identity once and for all. "Come over here and meet Lauren's best friend!"

The whole room seemed to fall silent as Lewis made his way to our side of the pub. I'm sure that was just my imagination, but I couldn't hear anything apart from the blood rushing in my ears as I watched his approach. How should I react? In my head, I was suddenly sixteen all over again, and it was the morning after Lewis had kissed my friend instead of me. I could feel the same dark shadow of the embarrassment I felt then creeping slowly across my body, taking over everything else, and leaving me feeling like a gauche schoolgirl.

It didn't help that Lewis had improved with age, upgrading from the "cute" category into the "devastatingly handsome" one. I forced a smile, prepared for some look of recognition.

There was none.

Not even a flicker.

"Hey, I'm Lewis," he said in a friendly enough tone, putting his pint down and extending a hand.

"R- Ruby." I shook it limply, wondering if my name might provide a jolt of . . . well, anything. But his gorgeous face remained blank. Politely courteous, nothing else.

"Nice to meet you, Ruby." He picked up his drink again and addressed the whole table before I could even consider saying anything further. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to finish what I started over there." And he walked back towards the redhead.

Wow.

I felt utterly humiliated. His younger version may have made a massive impression on me, but it turned out his older self didn't even remember me! And his thoroughly dismissive attitude just amplified those feelings.

"That seemed a little rude," Lauren muttered. "He's not usually like that," she told me quickly. "I'm not sure what's got into him."

Maybe I should have told her then and there about our brief shared past. But I was far too mortified that I'd wasted any of my brain power on him when I apparently didn't even register on his life's radar. So the secret remained buried deep in my heart, any residual nostalgia hardening over time, crystallising with bitterness.

The shame of being completely forgotten didn't leave me, and, as a result, I never felt truly comfortable around Lewis again. Over the next three years, he would appear at group nights out, and we'd almost always somehow end up in a silly argument. Anything could set us off. It was quite ironic that debating brought us together as kids but tore us apart as adults. I always felt like he was laughing at me, finding me lacking somehow, and I quickly came to despise him.

Except apparently, it seems I haven't been doing as good a job at hating him as I thought. Because the second I thought I had a chance of finally finishing what we'd never actually started, I grabbed hold of that opportunity and . . . Had sex with it.

And I am definitely not okay.

So Ruby and Lewis do have a past . . . But Lewis doesn't remember it. Or does he???

And if you recognised either of the school names, it might be because St Stephen's was the same school Iona and Ryan attended in No Reservations, and St Patrick's was the school Em and Chris from Happy Hour are former pupils of. 😊