‘I’ve heard of that,’ said Trip. ‘This travel blogger I follow was recommending it. Apparently it’s one of the UK’s coolest bars.’
Mei smiled up into his face. ‘You should try it if you ever come to Bristol,’ she said sweetly, fluttering her lashes.
‘Isn’t uni a blast?’ sighed Erin, taking a large swallow of her drink. ‘I really feel like I found myself there, you know? Like I became the person I was always meant to be.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Mei.
‘Totally,’ agreed Callum.
Ivy sat back, feeling more crushed than ever before, as they chattered away about the trips they were taking, the clubs they were joining and the adventures they were having. She and Raye had always rolled their eyes at the gang behind their backs, but now they seemed … happy. Fulfilled. Living rich and interesting lives. Whereas Ivy, in her paint-spattered DM boots and oversized cardigan, was the one who seemed lame.
‘And how’s the art going, Ivy?’ Callum asked at last, when there was a lull in the conversation. Ivy had just taken a gulp of lemonade and she choked on her drink as everyone turned to look at her.
‘Oh, um, it’s great, thanks,’ she managed. ‘It’s great to be around so many other creative types. To be challenged artistically, you know?’
Callum nodded politely. ‘You’re at the Cornwall Art College, right? My friend is there,’ he said. ‘Imogen, do you know her?’
‘Oh yeah,’ said Ivy, flushing. ‘Imogen. She’s … nice.’ Imogen was friends with Raff. What if she had told Callum about the loser at art college?
‘She was pulling her hair out over her final coursework. Apparently you don’t pass the first year without it?’ He shook his head. ‘That’sseriouslyharsh.’
‘Yeah, wow,’ said Trip. His wide brown eyes turned to her. ‘How did yours go, Ivy?’
‘Well, it’s a very competitive course,’ Ivy said, fiddling with her paper straw. She thought of her empty sketchbook and Jess’s worried expression at her last tutorial, the blank faces of her classmates as she had mumbled about impermanence. ‘I’m still adding some … finishing touches. But I’m very nearly there.’
‘The details are important,’ said Trip. ‘So what’s the story with Lou and Simi? I haven’t spoken to them much.’ Ivy glanced at him. Had he realised she was floundering and changed the subject?
‘One of the top love stories of Fox Bay,’ said Erin. ‘Simi was some high-flying management consultant till she gave it all up for this.’
‘My parents say she and Lou are being really mysterious …?’ whispered Mei. ‘They keep driving to Truro and giving vague excuses.’
‘Yeah and Mum said they’ve been sneaking off a lot lately and getting people to cover shifts,’ Erin said. ‘Do you think they got married? Eloped?’
‘Or maybe they’re house-hunting,’ added Callum. ‘And they’re planning to move.’
The attention moved on to Fox Bay gossip and Ivy sank into herself. She felt like a ghost. A sad, shadowy, drab ghost.
Trip, on the other hand, seemed like the brightest person inthe pub. Ivy kept sneaking glances at him, wondering how anyone could look so impossibly perfect. His sweatshirt clung to him in all the right places, his hair was tousled like he’d just come from the sunlit beach (despite it being pitch-black, damp and freezing when they had walked over) and he seemed to draw people to him. The gang clearlylovedhim. Other customers stopped to chat, asking about his accent. Even the pub dog loved him, resting his head on Trip’s knee under the table and looking at him adoringly, while Trip stroked his ears.
‘And what about you, Trip?’ Mei said at last, leaning forward. Ivy had forgotten how pretty Mei was, with her glossy black hair and long lashes. ‘What brings you to Fox Bay? Shouldn’t you be surfing in California?’
Trip laughed. ‘At this time of year? I don’t want to be a Californian stereotype.’
‘Oh?’ Mei leaned in still closer, clearly enjoying herself. ‘So you’re a rebel?’
‘I’ve been taking a year off,’ Trip said, and again Ivy caught that hint of discomfort she had sensed earlier, the slight flush on his cheeks. He was normally so easy that the reserve jarred.
‘Like a gap year?’ Erin asked.
Trip nodded. ‘Something like that. I wanted to see a bit of the world.’ He added quietly, almost to himself, ‘You can have a lifetime of adventures just by saying yes.’
‘A lifetime of adventures?’ said Erin, looking confused.
His flush deepened. ‘It’s a family saying,’ he said. ‘I’m trying to live by it.’
‘Where have you been?’ Ivy asked longingly. She had never left England.
‘Um. Everywhere,’ Trip said with a sheepish smile. ‘Mexico for a surf camp and to see some distant relatives. Iceland for a glacier hike. Rome for the history. Sardinia for the pasta. Paris for the art and the food. And now … here.’ He gestured around at the pub, like Fox Bay was just as special.
