‘Either that, or things got a little rough with—’
‘I got stuck in the supply closet and couldn’t get out,’ Iexplain, to stifle whatever insinuation Mairi was going to make. I don’t feel like adding that Luca was with me the entire time.
The guy makes a noise that could be a chuckle or a snort.
‘Sorry, I don’t think I caught your name,’ I say.
‘I’m Jacob. I just moved here.’ He has a nice voice, much deeper than I’d expect from someone our age, and there’s a shadow of an accent. ‘We share a few classes,’ he adds, and somehow it sounds like a dig. Like I should’ve noticed him in the two weeks since school started. But even when Luca and I aren’t caught up in town drama, we tend to focus on ourselves. I don’t need anyone but him. But I never expected this closeness to blow up in my face.
‘I’m Simo,’ I say, trying to sound friendlier than I feel.
‘I figured. You’re hard to miss, what with the noticeboard.’
I grit my teeth, almost biting my cheek again.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. It was just sweet to see. I’m from a small town too, and they’d never be this supportive of two –’ He stops when he sees my expression. ‘Anyway, I spotted a cute shop over there that I’m gonna check out before I dig myself a deeper hole.’
‘Forgive him. He’s French,’ Mairi says, and watches Jacob stride off towards Betsy’s flower shop with a bemused smile.
‘OK . . .?’ I say, puzzled.
‘He can be very direct. But he’s a nice guy.’
I remain quiet, holding back the snide comeback. Mairi hasn’t done anything to deserve my ire. Despite her vibrant exterior, she’s more introspective in person. An observer rather than an instigator; I’ve always felt we’re alike in that way.
‘Did you go a little sticker-mad?’ She interrupts my thoughts and nods to the window behind me. Someone’s plastered a whole section with recent additions. I recognise the trans and intersex flags that Librarian Joni always hands out, as well as the logo of Dad’s estate agency and a cartoon drawing of Anton the Highland bull, all shiny and new.
‘Uh, no. I hate stickers.’ They cling to your skin and make that foul sound when you pull them off. Worse than Velcro. But I don’t divulge any of that to Mairi. Instead, I suppress a shudder and inch away.
Mairi watches me with raised eyebrows.
‘I’m not weird,’ I mutter.
‘I never said you were,’ she laughs. It’s a pretty sound, husky.
‘So, are you guys a thing?’ I ask.
‘Me and Jacob? Oh, no, he’s not –’ She clears her throat. ‘No, we’re not.’ Mairi fiddles with one of her braids, suddenly self-conscious. I’d feel bad, but for once it’s refreshing not to be on the receiving end of that question. ‘But I’d better catch up with him. I promised to show him around town.’
‘Don’t forget to introduce him to Anton,’ I say, and point to the sticker. ‘They’ve got the same hair.’
‘Be nice to him, Simo,’ she says instead of a goodbye, but I spot the grin before she turns. When she reaches Pott’s Flowers, she waves over her shoulder without looking back, then disappears inside.
A sudden coldness against my chest makes me look down, and I see a hand holding out a cup of lemonade – Luca’s hand. He sips from a second cup that’s drippingwith condensation. He’s lost the apron and changed into a blue T-shirt that only intensifies the colour of his eyes. The necklace I gave him glints golden on his skin. He looks like the personification of the summer sky.
I take the cup and search his face for a sign that I didn’t imagine the sudden intensity in the supply closet. He scans the stickers on the window, then his gaze lands back on me. I could be wrong, but for a second something cuts through the expression of ease, a flicker of raw emotion. It’s gone before I can make sense of it. It plants a seed of doubt, whether I know him as well as I thought I did. Whether I know myself at all.
‘Dad kicked me out. Says if I want to chew someone’s ear off about ghosts, he’d rather I pick someone else.’ He slurps on the straw, and his throat jumps with every swallow. ‘And I pick you.’
I let his words wash over me, let them steal away the doubt, at least momentarily. Then I set my lips to the straw and drink, ice cubes clinking. My teeth hurt from the cold, and I’m on the brink of a brain freeze, but I keep sipping. Flavour bursts on my tongue. Sugar, lemon, mint.
‘Go on then,’ I say. ‘Chew my ear off.’
CHAPTER 7 – LUCA
When I enter the cafe, an older couple are on their way out, so I say a goodbye and take their mugs to the kitchen. For a Friday afternoon, it’s quiet. Normally students would be rushing in and out of the shop, iced drinks melting in their hands, while adults finish work early and drop in for a cheeky pastry at the end of a long week. Now the place is deserted. Everyone’s down at the beach, soaking up the last of the summer before autumn arrives in earnest.
I return to the counter, where Dad is poring over a list of orders and invoices, a fresh cup of coffee by his side. He’s humming an old Sugababes song, which means he’s in a good mood despite the lull.
