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Bridge squints. “What are we talking here?”
“Having a bit of a dry spell, are we Bridge?” Magnolia asks her sister.
Bridget gives her a dark look and skulks over to the bar. Parks dashes after her, not done sparring with her yet.
Henry gives me a long look.
“Friends, huh?”
I press my mouth together.
“It’s been, what, a fortnight?”
“A fucking long fortnight, man.”
“Are you done now?” he asks, eyebrows up. “With this friends shit?”
I shake my head at him.
He flicks me a look and nods his head towards the bar.
Big guy from our high school’s chatting up Parks.
Holden Carrick. Julian’s year.
Me and Hen walk over. I sidle up behind Parks. Extend my hand out to him. “Holden, man—”
He looks surprised to see me. “Ballentine.”
He looks from me to Parks. “Are you?”
“No.” Parks shakes her head emphatically. “We’re just friends.”
And it shits me. Makes me go tight in the chest. Fucking hate being her friend. Whose fucking idea was this anyway?
“Oh.” Carrick frowns, clocking me, confused. “So can I get you a drink?”
“No.” She shakes her head before gesturing to me. “He runs a very tight ship.”
He frowns more but I knock back a smile.
“Thought you said he’s not your boyfriend?”
“He’s not.” She shakes her head. “But we are in love, he and I.” Gestures between us.
“Oh.” Frowns more.
“But we have some toxic traits,” she concedes all rueful and I just want to kiss her. “Mine is that I use cute boys to hurt him — and, actually, you really are right up my alley.”
“Oh, thanks.” He nods, a bit affirmed.
“You’re welcome.” She smiles up at him. “How tall are you, anyway? Six-one?”
“Parks.” I give her a look.
“Right, no — sorry.” She shakes her head and points at me. “He’s actually six-three and we’re in love and we are friends now, proving that we can be, you know…” She purses her lips, struggles to find the word. “Normal.”
“This does feel normal,” Bridget interjects sarcastically.
