‘Yeah, sorry.’
‘It’s OK.’ Dina offers me a smile that quickens my pulse. ‘By the way, I talked to Jade. She said she got in touch with Laila.’
‘Really?’ Dina has come through for me twice now, in ways that I couldn’t have even imagined. ‘Thank you.’
‘You should thank Jade, not me,’ she says. ‘And wait until she actually does something to help Laila out. For all we know, they’re at each other’s throats.’
‘I can definitely see that,’ I say with a chuckle.
A door squeaks on the other side of the hall, and Dina freezes for a moment, her smile dropping.
‘I should go, right? Before your boss catches me here,’ I say.
‘Probably … I’ll see you around?’ Dina says it like she hopes that will be the case, but I don’t know if I’m just reading my own hopes into her words.
‘Yeah. See you.’
I turn around and head out of the double doors, feeling lighter than I have in a long time.
All this time, I’ve thought that Dina hated me with every fibre of her being, but now I wonder if there’s still some part of her that cares about me. It may be a part that’s buried down deep inside of her, but maybe, just maybe, it exists. And maybe there’s a chance that the two of us could go back to what we once used to be.
Chapter 21
Maya
Thirteen years ago
Ms Nichols checks her watch, and then her register. Not that she needs to. Not that any of us need to. Weallknow who’s missing from our group: Dina. Once again, she’s late. Except, this time, it’s not just for class, it’s for our once-in-a-lifetime trip to Spain. The one that we’ve been counting down the days to for what feels like forever. And now that it’s finally here, we’re all waiting just inside the airport for Dina to show up.
‘Who’s friends with Dina? Can you call her and see if she’s almost here?’ Ms Nichols asks, eagerly looking around for people’s hands to shoot up. I look around too, but everyone looks as annoyed as I feel. Which actually makes me feel a little less annoyed. It also makes me feel a pinprick of guilt. Nobody raised their hands because Dina doesn’t really have many friends – maybe not any. She’s always at the outskirts of everything. Sure, there are a few girls that she hangs out with here and there, but she doesn’t have her group, like me, Nadine and Gwen.
‘Maybe if she had friends she’d actually show up to things on time,’ Gwen says, a little too snidely for my liking. I can’t even say anything because I would have said the same thing only moments ago.
Thankfully, a car pulls up outside just then, and Dina’s familiar figure climbs out of the passenger seat. Followed by her older brother, Deen. From the driver’s side, her dad emerges, and all three of them rush towards the entrance.
I heave a sigh of relief. It isn’t that we are massively delayed. Ms Nichols has made a schedule that has accounted for the fact that there are thirty of us going on this trip, which means that things won’t always be running smoothly.
Dina doesn’t immediately run towards us though, instead she has an entire, rambling conversation with her dad, before she finally makes her way over. Her face is a little flushed, and I don’t know if it’s from running from her dad and brother towards us, or embarrassment. Maybe a little bit of both.
‘You’ve finally made it, Dina,’ Ms Nichols says. She sounds a little chiding, and Dina doesn’t respond. That niggling feeling of guilt grows in me, even though I haven’t done anything.
We get through security and to our gate, and by the time we’re boarding our plane an hour later, my strange sense of guilt has faded away. When I get to my seat and see Dina seated next to me, I expect to feel annoyed. But I don’t. I stuff my backpack underneath the seat in front of me and sit down, buckling my seat belt. Dina gives me a scathing look before turning to stare out of the window.
Her hand grips the handrest with a little too much intensity, nails digging into the foam so hard that I’m surprised she hasn’t torn into the handrest.
‘Are you OK?’ I find myself asking, against my better judgement.
‘Fine.’ Dina doesn’t even turn to look at me.
Rolling my eyes, I sit back. I shouldn’t have asked. What else did I expect from Dina?
But as the plane starts to move, Dina seems more on edge. Her grip on the handrest tightens – if that’s even possible – and her legs go up and down, like a nervous tic.
‘Is it your first time flying?’ I ask.
‘That’s none of your business.’ And that’s Dina’s way of sayingyes.
‘Don’t be nervous. More people die from car crashes every year than plane accidents, so … you really have nothing to worry about.’
