Page 152 of Shards of You and Me


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I’m trying to imagine another hair colour wrapped around my fingers. ‘And what did you say?’

‘I told her that girls would kill for her hair, and going darker won’t work with her complexion.’

I’m weirdly relieved. ‘Fair enough.’

She takes another sip of her drink, then says to Charlotte, ‘Should’ve gone with a premix.’

Charlotte nods in agreement, then pushes her dark hair over her shoulder. ‘I think the bottle’s been open a while.’

‘Not a lot of wine drinkers here,’ I say.

She meets my gaze, a faint smile on her lips. ‘Beer country, huh?’

I might be in the middle of a very long dry spell right now, but I recognise flirting when I see it.

‘She asked about you,’ Tamsin says. ‘I told her I hadn’t seen you in months.’

I nod. ‘Busy time on the farm.’

‘Next time I see her, I can tell her you’re venturing out. And have a mullet.’

I exhale through my nose. ‘She’ll love that.’

‘Break-ups are tough,’ Tamsin says with a sigh. ‘I don’t think she’s over it.’

I fucking hate that phrase. Annie and I never broke up. We just… broke.

‘Why’d you split?’ Charlotte asks.

I barely even talk to Sammy about it, so I’m hardly going to confide in this stranger.

Tamsin answers for me. ‘Hunter’s stuck here in Chirnside, and this is one place Annie can’t be. It’s such a sad outcome, but you never know what the future holds.’ She squeezes my arm, a gesture of comfort, then looks over at the band when a U2 song starts. ‘Oooh, we should dance.’

‘I’ll pass,’ I tell her.

Tamsin drags Charlotte onto the dance floor, calling over her shoulder, ‘Have a good night.’

I raise my nearly empty glass.

We end up staying well past my preferred finish time. Sammy’s flirting up a storm with Tamsin on the dance floor, and I don’t have the heart to ruin his night. He’s worked as hard as I have this past year and has earned a night of fun.

People have reached the point of drunk where they form one large messy group and are singing along to all the songs while spilling their drinks everywhere. And I’m stuck at the bar with Charlotte.

‘You know, I happen to look great in flannel,’ she tells me.

She’s like a bolder version of Tamsin. ‘That right?’

‘I’d be adorable on a farm.’

I watch her flirt, wondering if I could break the drought with this girl before me. A year is a long time.

‘Maybe you should invite me back to yours, and I can try on your clothes,’ she says, sipping seductively from a short black straw.

I’m fairly sure she’d be great company in bed. I’m single. She’s single. We’re worlds apart in real life but have been brought together for this one night. It doesn’t get much simpler than that.

Then I wonder what Annie would say if she were here witnessing this. I imagine her wounded expression as she says to me, ‘It’s okay. We’re not together. You can be with whoever you want.’

And just like that, I can’t fuck this girl. ‘Not tonight, sorry.’

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