‘I’m thinking about doing English,’ I say.
‘Great,’ he says. ‘You’ve always liked reading.’
I think of Ty, how he calls me Writer, how he says I know my words. Ty knows I like to create, build with language.
‘Actually,’ I say, taking a deep breath, ‘I’ve started doing some journalism for the school newspaper.’
‘Really, that’s great,’ says Ollie. ‘What are you writing about?’
I explain how I’ve turned my Selena Says into an anonymous column. At the end he is silent.
‘What do you think?’
‘Is this not like a gossip column?’ he says.
‘No!’ I protest. ‘It’s my opinions.’
‘Then why not do it with your own name?’
I fall silent. This is not the response I want. Because I’m afraid of expressing my opinion out loud? But how could someone like Ollie, who is so confident in what he thinks, and never is afraid to say it, understand that?
‘Never mind,’ I say. ‘It’s a side thing. My classes are the main reason I want to do English.’
‘What are you reading now?’
‘We’re doingThe Great Gatsbyat school. It’s pretty good.’
‘Ah, we’ve started with Shakespeare. Good oldRomeo and Juliet.’
‘Enjoying reading about star-crossed lovers?’ I say, my breath hitching a bit. Maybe this will trigger something in Ollie. Maybe he’ll see us in the text. Without the tragic ending.
‘Not particularly,’ he says. ‘I wantedMacbethorHamlet.’
‘Fair enough.’ How could I have imagined he would say something else? ‘How’s school, then?’
‘It’s getting better. I’ve actually made a few friends. None of them on par with Selena Pia, of course.’
But I don’t want to talk about Ollie’s new friends. Especially as it was because of them I didn’t get the Rose Conrad tickets. I move on. ‘And how’s Manchester?’
‘It’s so cold here,’ he says. ‘Much more than down south. But all the lights are coming out now, and it looks really nice.’
‘The way Ty complains about the weather, you may as well think it’s Siberia down here,’ I say.
‘Ty?’ says Ollie, looking confused. ‘Who’s Ty?’
‘The new neighbour,’ I say. I feel a slight sense of panic about bringing him up. It doesn’t feel right and I don’t know why.
‘I thought you disliked him?’ says Ollie, raising his eyebrows.
‘I do!’ I say, and I watch as my eyes become wider in the corner screen. I need to make myself look more chill. ‘He is egotistical and annoying and has this really specific way of saying the wrong thing, but . . .’
‘But what?’ says Ollie.
‘But I see him all the time, so he’s impossible to ignore,’ I say.
‘That’s good,’ says Ollie. ‘I would hate to think someone’s replaced me.’
‘Oh, absolutely not,’ I say. Is Ollie . . . jealous? I smile at the thought. ‘You know you can’t be replaced. Even with a few weeks apart.’
