I don’t know why I said that. I have no conditions because I really don’t want to do it, but she’s successfully broken me in record time.
“Art,” I blurt.
“Art?”
The word popped into my head and then fell out of my gob before I could really think it through.
“Yeah, you have to take lessons from me about art.”
“Eden, I possess zero artistic ability. Ms Billings lets me do other work in class because she knows I’m a lost cause.”
“And I have the athletic ability of egg salad, but here we are. Those are the T&Cs, Bishop. Take it or leave it.”
Sloane goes back to biting her lip and I fight the urge to swipe my thumb across it to stop her from hurting herself.
“Okay, it’s a deal. I’ll come up with a plan and get the go-ahead from Porter.”
“What exactly do you need the go-ahead for?”
“Because I plan to get you out of the next semester’s gym classes.”
“What?”
She’s nodding again, and I’m thoroughly confused.
“You’re doing something that you hate. Like literally hate, and I recognize that. If I can get you to do a 5k run by the beginning of our last ever semester at Holcroft, I think you should be allowed to skip class in the Spring.”
“That’s in like four months, Sloane. The end of this semester is in less than sixteen weeks.”
“Exactly. It will be super impressive.”
I’ve lost control of this whole situation. We’ve gone from walking together to training for a bloody five-kilometre run. Sloane is a sapphic witch! It’s the only explanation because there’s no way I would’ve agreed to any of this if she’d not cast some sort of witchy spell.
“I’m going to tell Porter. This is so exciting.”
“What? Sloane, wait!”
Too late, she’s bolted.
I’m still standing by the gym door when Pia and Todd come out smelling like the school locker room. Sweat and socks. They too have clearly chosen to shower at home.
“There you are. Did you bunk off?”
“Nope, I had a lovely stroll around the school with Sloane. Apparently, that’s what we’re doing now.”
“Wow, so she’s really working with Porter in a bid to get you to do something other than shuffle on a treadmill?”
“Yeah, can you believe it?”
Pia cackles, and Todd rolls his lips. Pia knows the real reason I hate gym, but that doesn’t stop her from enjoying Porter’s attempts and my predictable reactions. She’s got a dark sense of humour.
“That’s not the best of it,” I huff. “I’m being forced to run, Pia!”
Pia suddenly turns serious. “Hey, do you need me to step in?”
I love her for it. Pia would absolutely go to the mat for me if she thought for a second I was experiencing what I did back in primary school.
My hand goes to the back of my neck as I find the words to confess this is all a situation of my making and Sloane’s witchcraft.
