‘Turning eighteen has been fairly eventful,’ I say.
Ty sits down next to me. ‘It’s really sucked not speaking to you this week too,’ he says. ‘I was so mad at you. And I didn’t feel I had any right to be, but it made me not want to talk to you. But you’re my only real friend here, and it was so . . . lonely.’
‘So where do we go from here?’ I say, turning to him. I feel that invisible string tugging me towards him. It feels impossible to fight it now.
‘Let’s go back to where we were,’ he says, and my heart soars. ‘As friends.’
My heart crashes down like a kid’s kite in a park.
‘Friends,’ I repeat. Not sure if I’m saying a question or a statement.
Ty runs his hands through his hair. ‘I think it’s less messy this way. I don’t want to fall out again. Plus at the end of the summer we’ll go our separate ways, and . . . well, my dad still wants me to go back to the US.’
I feel hurt. I thought we had something and he felt the same way. But maybe after everything he doesn’t like me like that any more. And I don’t want to ruin things between us any further.
So, even if deep down I don’t want to, I say, ‘Okay.’
Forty-Three
Lights, camera, action
Can you feel the attraction?
I’m addicted to the fame
Addicted to the game
‘Addiction’ fromThe In-Between
Kira is still ignoring me. This is the longest I’ve gone without speaking to her ever. Faye has been splitting her time between us all weekend, and it feels like she’s a child of divorce, the way she’s had to trek from house to house.
But in big news, I’ve now sent off my UCAS form! Applying to study English Literature with English Language, all with London universities. And I’m waiting to hear back. Ty tells me he’s starting to be accepted both into UK and US universities. He’s still not told his dad how he feels.
Today is the first day of my work experience at the Croydon Post. Everyone else will be starting their final week of winter term. Tori and I have got permission to miss it for this. Despite Mum’s best effort in trying to get me to dress ‘smart’, even though the email clearly says the dress code is ‘casual’, I turn up in a carefully selected jeans and plaid shirt. What do journalists wear? This feels a bit businessy, but artsy enough to be aprofessional writer. If I’m overthinking the outfit this much, god knows how much else I’ll overthink.
Ty texts me good luck, as does Ollie. Ollie and I aren’t talking as much any more, but we still check in now and then. We share the big stuff. It’s a good way of honouring our friendship without creating any pressure. Last time I heard from him, he’d started going out with Keeley.
I arrive at the office and check in. I’m taken to get my photo done, a scenario I’m unprepared for, and handed a badge with my face printed on it. Great, if I had known this I would have worn something plainer than plaid!
Tori, of course, is already here, tapping away at a laptop she must have brought in with her. We’ve not even formally started the day yet.
I sit down next to her, and opposite a boy I assume to be the third intern, who’s tall and lanky with a smattering of acne on his left cheek. Horrifically, he’s also in a plaid shirt and jeans.
‘I’m Doug,’ he says, nodding at me.
‘Selena,’ I say back.
‘Tori,’ says Tori, waving her hand without taking her eyes off her laptop.
‘What are you even doing?’ I say. ‘They’ve not given us anything to do yet.’
‘Yeah, you’re making us look bad,’ jokes Doug.
‘Overworking is her thing,’ I say. ‘You’ll get used to it.’ I see the confusion on his face. ‘We go to school together.’
‘Same English class and everything,’ says Tori, not making eye contact. ‘I’m writing up the headlines of the different news outlets from this morning,’ she says. ‘In case it comes up.’
‘Are you guys on the same student newspaper?’ says Doug. ‘I’m the editor of mine.’
