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“To hire a graphic artist to draw up characters, do the world building...It must look professional before we present it.It’s a competitive market out there, Smidge.”
She shook her head.“I can’t believe you just took it without asking.”
“There wasn’t time.I needed it—” he snapped his fingers, “like yesterday.I meant to tell you but I—um—forgot.”
She heard herself laugh, almost hysterically.“Like you forgot to answer my calls this weekend.”The now-familiar chin-wobble threatened.If she cried, he’d get exasperated and she’d feel like a pathetic fool.
“Sorry Smidge.It’s just we’re so frigging busy nutting out the final prototype.When we hear back—”
“Hear back from whom?”Bewilderment made her shake her head.
“The company in Silicon Valley.We’re deep in discussions at the moment.C’mon, be nice, I just need a few more weeks.”
The truth dawned.“Is this why you didn’t want to come on holiday?”
“Kind of.But really, Smidge, the idea of hiking around Scotland wasn’t exactly tugging my chain.”
Looking at him, she had to agree.How blind had she been, thinking they could salvage their relationship with a walking holiday?But the fact he had been deceiving her, working on all of this behind her back, added an extra sting.
“And what if this project doesn’t come off?”She schooled her voice not to shake.“What happens then?”
He stared at the TV screen absently.“I’ll pay you back.In instalments or something.”
She let out an exasperated huff.She knew all about Mark paying her back.The desk, the ridiculously expensive computer system.She needed to stop colluding with him.
Jumping up, she threw up her hands in a gesture she hoped showed how upset she was.He didn’t even look at her.“Not in two or three months, Mark.A month, maximum.Promise me.”
“Okay, promise.”He smiled, heaved himself off the sofa and yanked up his pants.“You off then?”She heard the relief in his voice.He looked like he was going to give her a kiss, but she pulled back.The idea of him touching her was abhorrent.
“Don’t be angry, Smidgy.”Mark’s lower lip jutted into a mock sulk.And she realised that’s what he’d always done.Made out she was being unreasonable when all she’d ever wanted was for him to act like an adult.
She stalked towards the door.She’d promised herself on the way here she’d stand her ground.She turned around and forced herself to look at him, sprawled on the couch, with his gaze glued back to the giant screen.“I want it back.Every single cent, and no excuses.”
As she took the stairs, she felt a flicker of something like pride in her belly.
She hadn’t caved in.
It was a step in the right direction.
Streams of kidsin dark blue and grey uniforms flooded out the gates of St Catherine’s College.One bumped Carts with his backpack and didn’t even notice.Gangly arms hung at the boy’s sides, shoulder blades visible even through his school shirt.Carts couldn’t help a wry smile.It reminded him of how he used to be, bones sticking out every which way and not enough flesh to cover them.Surreptitiously he gave his stomach a pat and was reassured to hit a ridge of hard muscle.Yoga had been doing wonders for his abs, he realised.It had been gradual, but after a year he was building a not so bad bod.
He scanned the group of girls coming towards him, a sea of laughing faces, then he spotted Avery a good head taller than the purple ponytail bobbing along next to her.He guessed that had to be Zammy.
Avery’s face was relaxed.He was good at reading her features; she looked happy, if a little too eager to please, like she was hanging off the other girl’s every word.
When she spotted him, her smile broadened into a grin, and she waved.
As they got closer, he realised where Avery had got the weird kohl habit happening with her eyes.Zammy’s were rimmed completely in black.She was wearing purple lipstick.Did they allow them to do that at school nowadays or had she put it on in the bathroom afterwards?
Then he caught himself.He sounded like a wrinkly old prune—another of the arsenal of insults Avery sometimes hurled at him.
He made sure he slouched against the wall, dug his hands deep in his pockets and tried for a cool grin in return.
“Hi trouble,” he said
“Yo, bro.”Avery lifted her hand in the air, palm facing him, which he realised he was meant to slap.He took his hand out of his pocket and held it up to her.A boy following her swivelled and looked at them as he passed.Suddenly Avery wrapped him in a bear hug.Why did he think this was for show?Not that she wouldn’t hug him, but this was a “hey look at me” kind of hug.
Zammy observed them with a sulky turn to her lips, and something inside him flipped like a fish on a line.Like this girl was going to be trouble for his little sister in a way he couldn’t quite put words to but knew in some deep recess of his being.
